"Whoo," says Applejack, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat from her glistening abdominals, "We put in a good day of work, you and me. How's about you join me in the shower and we can jack each other off?"

You sigh. That's Applejack for you. Apparently being the Element of Honesty means having absolutely no guile when it comes to sexual advances. Not that you exactly mind the straightforwardness, but it's heartbreaking to turn down such nakedly honest propositions (from an honestly naked pony) day after day. At least when someone's being subtle, you can both pretend they weren't trying to fuck you.

"No, sorry," you say, taking a step towards the barn door. "I'll just shower at home."

"All right," says Applejack. At least she's not angry, or offended. There's a trace of disappointment on her face, but you know she won't hold it against you. "See you tomorrow!"

She waves you off, and you set off towards home, walking between freshly bucked apple trees. To be honest, you could use a handjob; even though you've serially rejected her, there's no denying that Applejack is a sight to behold. At six-four, she's a fair bit taller than you, and a lifetime of hard work has given her muscle definition that shows through her velvety pony fur. You're into all that, it's just... her dick is kind of intimidating.

Not only is it huge, it's always hard, at least when you're around - it stiffens instantly when it catches sight of you and it stays that way for hours and hours as long as you're around, fitfully drooling and spurting precum all the while. Occasionally she'll excuse herself to jack off - usually just walking ten feet away and putting a tree between her and yourself - and it never goes down.

Not that she's alone in that regard; the same can be said for almost every mare you've met ever since you landed in Futaquestria (God, even the name is an inescapable reminder). Regular stallions don't have to deal with this - just you, the world's only human, are universal sexual catnip for every mare in this world. You almost feel bad; apparently you're the sexiest person alive and you refuse to fuck anyone.

As you step off Applejack's farm and take the short stretch of road back to Ponyville proper, the eyes of mares begin to follow you and dicks harden in your wake. That's another thing - the population is ninety percent women at least, which makes the attentions of mares impossible to avoid. You exchange friendly greetings with the mares you pass, but their version of a friendly greeting usually involves bedroom eyes, one hand on their cock, and a sensual purr.

Carousel Boutique approaches on your right, and it's no surprise that Rarity bursts through the door and waves to you. She's well-acquainted with your schedule, and right around your "quittin' time," she begins watching the windows, eager to exchange a few words. And fluids.

"My, my," she says, circling you appreciatively. Her long, slender cock is already hard, but not yet dripping precum - she's generally a bit less "messy" than most mares. Probably because her balls, at roughly the size of plums, are what Futaquestrian women would probably consider "dainty."

She puts her nose up against your chest, and her cock smacks into your sweat-drenched shirt. She takes a long, lusty breath, and sighs with satisfaction. "What is that delectable scent you're wearing, darling?" she asks. "I'm simply mad for it!"

"That's just my sweat," you say, "I'm not 'wearing' anything."

She grins slyly. "Would that that were true," she says. Well, you set her up for that one. "It is a shame that you insist on wearing clothes all the time, dear. I feel like a traitor to mares everywhere, covering up that body of yours."

Upon your arrival in Ponyville, Rarity had indeed created a versatile wardrobe for you, but it took a week of convincing to get her to make anything remotely modest. She'd innocently presented you with racks of revealing, even slutty outfits before your immovable refusals forced her to make you some simple shirts and pants.

"Well, I feel good in these clothes, Rarity," you say, "So no matter what anyone else thinks, I'm happy with them."

"You do look good, even fully dressed..." she says. Ah, there's that first bead of pearly precum. "I'd be happy to take those sweaty clothes off your hands, by the way. I'll clean them and have them back to you tomorrow." She hooks a finger under the hem of your shirt and tugs lightly.

"No, thanks," you say, "I'll just wear them home." You did take Rarity up on her offer to do your laundry a couple times, before you got used to washing them manually, but you stopped after the time you visited her to pick them up and found her having some "private time" while sniffing your unmentionables. You took the whole sticky pile of laundry back to your place, washed them by hand until they no longer smelled like mare seed, and never trusted her for that particular task again.

The incident had taught you to be careful around the women of this world. They'd never tried to force themselves on you - consent was one of their society's basic virtues, you'd learned - but their sex drives were hard to contain, and their extreme sexual openness meant that they didn't seek consent for things like cumming on your stuff or casual contact with their dicks. Both of those things were largely unavoidable, really, given how much precum they tended to leak and how much space their dicks took up.

You pull away from Rarity and wave a nervous goodbye. The rest of the walk home is uneventful - at least by your new standards, in which long looks and hard cocks from passing dickmares count as non-events.

You step inside and lock your door. Most doors in Ponyville don't lock; the dangers the town faces, while neither minor nor rare, are generally of the sort that a locked door wouldn't stop. You insisted on a locked door, and when you got pushback, you played your trump card. "It's part of my culture," you said, which was more or less true.

You strip and shower, and while the hot water cascades down your body, you... deal with yourself. You feel a little betrayed by your own libido when the constant attention of this world's women turns you on, but you can't blame yourself, really. Futaquestrian mares look like women, talk like women... and they look good. Like, model good. The ones that aren't slim are deliciously curvy, and the ones who aren't either of those things are jaw-droppingly fit. Like Applejack.

And they're constantly hitting on you, so you need to jerk off a lot. And you suspect that Futaquestrian food has some kind of aphrodisiac property, because your sex drive went way up after a little while living here. Twilight has been keeping track of how your new environment affects your biology, and while there's definitely been some interesting effects, you've been hesitant to share any sexual data with her. You get the feeling that she'd develop an insatiable desire to put you to the test.

You're toweling off when you hear a knock at the front door. You sigh. The girls are fun to hang out with, honestly, but you feel like you never have a moment's peace. The constantly on-the-table offer of sex casts a musky pall over any and all hangout sessions.

So you're pleasantly surprised when you open the door to see Bon Bon. Bon Bon is an honest-to-goodness lesbian in a world where bisexuality is overwhelmingly the norm. A woman who doesn't want to fuck you is a rare and precious jewel in Futaquestria.

"Bon Bon!" you say, "Come on in!"

She obliges. As she enters, you notice the box in her hands - she frequently brings by homemade candy, but this box is extra big and extra fancy. This is more than just leftovers from the day's sales; this is a gift.

Bon Bon sits her bare, cream-colored ass on your sofa. She's every bit as naked as everyone else in this world, but her dick lies flaccidly over her left thigh. It's always a relief to see. She hands you the box, and you accept it with thanks. Bon Bon's shit is the real deal.

"So what brings you here?" you ask, taking a seat next to her.

"It's good news," she said. "Lyra finally proposed."

You break out in a smile. "That's great!" you say. "Took her long enough, huh?"

"It certainly did. And... we talked about it, and we'd like you to be our third."

Your eyes go wide. You know enough about Futaquestrian relationships to know that you should be honored. And you are - being the "third" in a relationship is a formal acknowledgment of closeness with the couple, sometimes including cohabitation and a sexual bond. But...

"How's that going to work, exactly?" you ask. Bon Bon sighs.

Your first day in Ponyville was a somewhat stressful one. Not as stressful as your first day in Futaquestria - when affectionate, well-intentioned, big-dicked women nearly gave you a heart attack with their mere presence - but it was still a trying time. You were settling down and meeting the locals in a place where you'd be living for the forseeable future, and you still weren't sure how safe you felt.

Twilight cast a long shadow in the afternoon sun. At eight and a half feet tall, she wasn't the biggest of the princesses, but she was an imposing presence. Her dick alone would have been intimidating - it was as thick as your thigh, nearly three feet long erect, and - at least when you were around - it burbled with a fitful stream of precum, leaving a thick, milky trail behind her. Her balls were bigger than your head, but even that didn't explain where all that cum was coming from.

You tried not to pay her genitals much attention as she led you around (she'd offered to let you ride on her cock - an offer that was earnest, and certainly achievable - but you turned her down). She was showing you the sights, giving you all the information you'd need to live independently in Ponyville - while reminding you that you were welcome to stay and sleep at her castle at any time. Just climb into bed with her, whenever you feel like it, she'd said.

Near the farmer's market, she spotted someone she recognized as a friend. "Oh! Lyra!" she'd said, waving to the pale green mare. She turned and looked down at you. "Lyra's just going to love you," she said. "She's actually got a well-known academic interest in humans..."

Lyra set down the tomato she was appraising and looked at Twilight. Then she looked at you. Almost robotically, she walked over to you and grabbed your hand, running her fingers over yours. She looked up from your hand, straight into your eyes.

And then she fell to her knees, a long, deep moan climbing up from her throat and growing in intensity. Her cock, thick and hard, began to twitch, and it spurted a long rope of cum, coating your lower legs and staining your shoes.

And then she came again, moaning, weakly stroking your hand with her fingers. You jerked your hand free and stepped out of the way of her ejaculations, but they didn't stop. A puddle was forming where you had stood, a growing pool of Lyra's sudden, powerful arousal. Her musk, powerful and masculine, hit your square in the nose.

No longer holding your hand, Lyra fell backwards, her cock pointing straight up in the air, and began to shoot a geyser of marecum into the sky, easily ten feet up before it came to rest on her body. She murmured in between bursts, and exploded in passionate cries when orgasm rocked her, over and over. She was thoroughly glazing herself, her baseball-sized testicles somehow providing enough cum to completely coat her body.

Twilight assured you that she'd tire herself out, but it just didn't seem to be happening. Minutes passed with no sign of slowing, and Twilight eventually decided to usher you out of sight. With you gone, Lyra soon recovered - although she was woozy and thirsty for a while - and your tour continued.

And it kept happening. Ever since then, every time Lyra saw you, she'd collapsed into an uncontrollable, neverending orgasm. The two of you just couldn't be around each other. Not that she didn't try - for a while, she approached you on a daily basis, occasionally managing to get two or three words into a sentence before she erupted in an intense, endless orgasm and you were forced to leave. You started feeling bad for her, especially because - according to Twilight and Bon Bon - she really wanted to get to know you.

You started exchanging letters with Lyra, and came to a surprising realization: she was exactly the kind of girl you would normally be attracted to. Very little of her personality had shown through in your interactions with her, but she was exactly your type - funny, artsy, a little dorky. In writing, you and her hit it off marvelously. It was just a shame that the sight of you reduced her to a writhing, incoherent fountain of cum.

You snap out of your flashback, still unaccustomed to the feeling of it. You've been having actual flashbacks - slightly hazy, mostly accurate visions of past events - ever since coming here. Twilight, your go-to resource for cross-world information, assured you that was normal. It was so normal that it took her a while to understand what you were asking her; you'd had to explain that memory didn't work that way in your world.

As usual, almost no time had passed in the present. Bon Bon finishes sighing, and speaks. "We might have a solution. We told Twilight about our engagement, and we made a special request. She's come up with a spell that she thinks will dull Lyra's sexual response to you. Pretty big request to make of a Princess, but she and Lyra are old friends."

"Cool," you say. "So when do I meet up with Lyra?"

"Anytime that works for you, really," said Bon Bon. "How's tonight? You can have a dinner date. Something casual like Hayburger. If seven-thirty works for you, I'll pass the message along to Lyra, and you can tell Twilight to come on over and cast the spell."

"Heh," you chuckle. "Sounds good. I've always wanted a chance to, you know... really meet Lyra. And, uh... you're okay with having me as the third in your relationship?" you ask, leaning forward. "I know you're not, like... attracted to me."

"But we are friends," said Bon Bon. "I can honestly say I'd be happy if you moved in with us. And Lyra would be... more than happy. She's told me how much she'd love to see me fucking you in the ass, and lesbian or no, that's a small price to pay for the mare I love." Bon Bon notices that you're avoiding her gaze. "Oh!" she says. "I'm sorry. We so rarely talk about sex, I forget you're... a little uncomfortable around the subject. I hope that's something we can work on." she gives you a supportive smile.

"I hope so too," you say, and you're surprised to realize that you mean it. You kind of do want this arrangement to work out. It's the best you've felt about any pony's propositions since coming to Futaquestria.

Psyching yourself up to see Twilight always takes a moment. In truth, she's one of your best friends here - you've relied on her for most of your adjustment to this new world, and she's always eager to talk with you about the world you're from. And as with Lyra, you feel like you've got compatible personalities. She's a huge dork - both in that she's extremely dorky and eight and a half feet tall - and you have a good time hanging out with her, when you can make yourself forget about her dick.

Which you pretty much never can. It's not constantly cumming while you're around, the way Lyra's is, but it's certainly always aroused. And while most ponies' interest in you seems to be mostly physical, she actually seems to like you. It's pretty obvious she wants to be more than friends, more than even fuck buddies, and on top of that she feels largely responsible for your discomfort around sex. And to be fair, she did bear some responsibility for that. She hadn't made the best first impression on you. Her behavior towards you has always been half friendship, half attraction, and half apology.

You knock on the castle's front door, and you hear the sound of Twilight's teleportation on the other side. She usually lets Spike get the door, but when she's expecting a friend - you, in this case - she sometimes warps space to get to the door quicker.

The door swings inward, and you crane your neck up to meet Twilight's eyes, looking past the bountiful ridge of her bustline. Her curves were gigantic, even on her amazonian frame; her gravity-defying tits, with their thick purple nipples, were considerably bigger than her head. Her hips swept outward at an obscene angle, forming the curve of a massive, perfectly rounded ass that she'd caught you staring at on more than one occasion. Cock aside, there was no denying that Twilight had the body of a living goddess, and you had a hard time hiding your fascination with it.

You'd seen photographs of Twilight in earlier years; apparently she'd "ascended" a few months before your arrival, and before that she'd been a normally proportioned mare of 5'5". She'd still been a little curvier than your average bookish nerd in those days, but some of that curviness had shown through as a cute little pudge. These days her tummy was flat and toned; she'd actually bought up Sugercube Corner's stock for a week as an experiment, just to see if it were possible for her to gain weight, but her body had stayed relentlessly perfect. You'd sat in on a few of her bingeing sessions, watching goggle-eyed as she put away trays of cupcakes. That had been a weird week.

Twilight leans down and hugs you, trapping you between her thick arms and the deep well of her cleavage. The feminine smell of her body is usually cut with the musk of her enormous male genitals, but between her breasts her smell is all woman. You feel your cock start to rise, surging to life from the overwhelming feel, smell, and warmth of the flesh surrounding you.

Twilight's cock is also reacting. It had been soft when she answered the door, hanging down past her knees, but you feel it begin to rise and press against you. Twilight pulls you tighter, moaning softly. Clearly she sees nothing wrong with the situation, but you wriggle and pull away, and she reluctantly releases you.

"So," you say, brushing your clothes back into place, "Bon Bon tells me you've got a spell to help out Lyra and me."

"Yes!" she says. She's instantly lit up with enthusiasm. "Come in!"

You follow her to one of the many rooms in the castle that's lined with bookshelves. The castle has a dedicated "library" elsewhere, and this one handles some of the overflow. It mostly contains lighter fare - the Daring Do series is stacked behind you - and Twilight uses it to entertain small groups.

"The spell I'm using is a variation on the 'Want It, Need It' enchantment," she says. It's probably unnecessary for you to know all this, but Twilight loves explaining her work, and you like learning about it. "That spell works by essentially making the subject only capable of thinking about their desire for the enchanted object. I was able to selectively invert several parts of the spell, so the new version should make Lyra, our subject, incapable of thinking about sex. Now, this will be my first test of the spell, so I want you to take note of any undesirable effects - assuming it accomplishes the desired goal at all."

Your brow knots with concern. "You're not sure if it'll work? It's not going to hurt her, is it?"

Twilight waves her hand in a placating gesture. "No, no," she says. "It's actually very difficult to accidentally harm someone with magic. Ponies' bodies are strongly attuned to magic, and if a spell isn't designed to cause harm, the body sort of... adapts to it, as part of their biology's overall flexibility. The same is increasingly true of your body, as you spend more time in Futaquestria and live off local food." She smiled. "That also goes for your physical flexibility. After you spend a little more time here, you could probably take my cock even without that ring I gave you!"

Her hand goes to her mouth. She probably hadn't meant to bring up sex around you; sex was just such a common topic in Futaquestria that it was genuinely hard for people to avoid it. "Sorry," she says.

You run your hand over your pocket and feel the plain-looking steel ring that Twilight gave you on your third day in this world.

As she dropped the ring in your hand, Twilight had explained that your body wasn't "stretchy" in the same way that ponies' bodies were, and that the ring would make you more resistant to harm. You slipped the ring on without hesitation; your independent streak, shocked into paralysis by the experience of teleporting into another world, had yet to reawaken. Plus, resistance to harm sounded fine. But you quickly discovered that the ring had a secondary effect.

Your ass began to tingle, and you clapped your hands over your cheeks just in time to feel it swelling. The flesh beneath your jeans ballooned out with an audible stretching sound, and even as its growth burst through seams, tearing your pants and underwear to shreds, there was no discomfort. It felt good, actually, even though confusion and humiliation dominated your mind. Twilight was entranced by the growth of your ass, her precum production now in overdrive and spilling an almost uninterrupted flow onto the marble floors.

By the time it stopped, you'd grown a bubble butt of inhuman size, wide enough that you'd have to squeeze through standard door frames. Even on a curvaceous woman it would have looked excessive, and on your otherwise masculine frame it was entirely out of place. The rest of your proportions were largely unchanged, but your upper thighs had expanded slightly to support your bigger bottom.

You turned to Twilight with a slackened jaw. She was still gazing in wonder at her magical handiwork, and mistook your expression for shared wonderment. "You look great!" she said, "That big bouncy ass should be able to stretch around any cock in Futaquestria... even mine." She rubbed her hands over her drooling cock invitingly. "Plus it's self-lubricating! Want to... try it out?"

You'd reacted with horrified betrayal, pulling the ring off and hurling it to the ground. As your ass slowly shrank back to normal size and you backed away from Twilight, the princess desperately, stutteringly tried to figure out what was wrong. From her perspective, altering your body to permit you to get your ass fucked was a straightforward act of kindness. Letting you live in a world where your ass was too small and not stretchy enough to be fucked by marecocks would have been an unforgivable failure in her duty as a princess.

From your perspective, a purple sex giantess just turned your ass into a fuck toy without your consent. This cultural misunderstanding had tainted your interactions with this world's women ever since - you couldn't help but be reminded of the betrayal you'd felt. You'd slowly come to understand that mutual pleasure, freely shared, was a big part of Futaquestrian culture, but a part of you still felt like these women just wanted to use you. It probably would have taken you a while to seriously consider the prospect of letting a woman fuck you in the ass anyway, but this moment had sowed seeds of distrust that would take a while to uproot. And Twilight, quite rightly, blamed herself.

You snap out of another flashback and wave off her careless sexual advance. You might not be comfortable with them, but you can take them in stride these days.

"Anyway," says Twilight, "I'll just pop over to Lyra's place and cast the spell on her, and you can meet her at the restaurant. Sound good?"

You agree that it sounds good, and she teleports away. You see yourself out.

Hayburger is a decidedly low-pressure choice for a first date, which suits you fine. The eponymous hayburgers are godawful, at least to your alien palate, but there's decent stuff on the menu. You know Lyra likes it, too - you've occasionally had to turn away from the restaurant because she was already eating there. On a couple occasions, she saw you before you saw her, and her explosive orgasms had made a mess of the place.

As you walk through the doors, an unfamiliar voice calls your name. You turn to look, and realize that you actually do recognize the voice - it's Lyra! What was unfamiliar was the way she was completing entire words without breaking into orgasmic moans. She's sitting behind a big circular table in the corner of the restaurant. It looks like the table is designed to accommodate six people or more, and by the nervous smile on her face, you guess that she chose it so that she could tuck herself into the corner of the room and put some distance between you and her. You wouldn't blame her for being nervous about having her first in-person conversation with the guy she'd been helplessly cumming in front of.

"Hey, Lyra!" you say, and take a seat on the opposite side of the table. You're grateful that the table hides her cock; the spell seemed to be working, so it presumably wasn't rock-hard under there, but most of your experience dating women hadn't involved staring at their foot-long dicks, so you were on more comfortable footing when it was out of sight. It apparently hadn't occurred to her to wear a shirt for your date, though, so her tits were on full display. Not that that was unusual, though - clothes were rarely seen in Futaquestria.

Nonetheless, your eyes are drawn to Lyra's chest. Her breasts were big, fatty handfuls, oversized even in comparison to her fellow Futaquestrian mares. This was partly due to Lyra's layer of chub, which ringed around her midsection in a cute paunch. It also gave a pleasant roundness to her face, which was grinning eagerly - but still nervously - as you looked each other over.

"It looks like the spell is working," you say.

"Yeah!" says Lyra. "It's so great to be able to be around you, without... uh..."

"Right," you say. You consider completing her sentence for her. Without coming all over the place. But there's no reason to make this more awkward than it needs to be. "You want me to grab our food?"

"Yeah!" she says, "Can you get me a couple of triple hayburgers and an extra-large drink? And some onion rings!" You nod and head for the counter to place your order. Lyra's appetite doesn't come as a total surprise; most ponies eat a lot more than you'd expect for their size. You'd explained that "hungry as a horse" was a common expression back on your world, but no one here seemed to find the humor in it. Once you return with the food, Lyra digs in immediately, devouring her portion with a gusto you can't help but marvel at. It's cute, and it's also nice to finally get to know Lyra's actual personality.

"And because I never said I polymorphed back to normal, the whole town was freaking out when I got back!"

"Well that's silly," you say, "Like your character was a giant serpent for the entire walk back to town and no one in your party noticed?"

"Yeah," says Lyra, "But that's just the kind of GM Twilight is. I think she learned GM'ing from some really oldschool guy. She's trying to be hardcore, I guess." She pops another onion ring into her mouth. Her appetite has been going strong for a while; you've been chatting for nearly an hour, and you've gotten up to get her more food on three occasions. Even for a chubby girl, she can really put it away. She might be a bit of a nervous eater, but she hasn't seemed too nervous. The conversation has been casual and comfortable, exactly as you'd hoped. You're starting to think there's really a future for the two of you.

And not only is she not cumming uncontrollably, she hasn't brought up sex once. In fact, you're the one who's having to hold themselves back a bit. Lyra's musk has grown thick, bathing you in the smell of her cock and balls, and although you'd have a hard time admitting it out loud, the smell is a pretty big turn-on. You've breathed in the musk of more than a few marecocks - Twilight's in particular, since hers is so close to nose-level - and it usually leaves you with a boner you have to take care of later.

"There's such a thing as 'tough but fair,'" you say, "And that isn't it. Hey, now that the two of us can be in the same place, maybe I could join your Oubliettes & Ogres group? I can help rein in Twilight's awful GM'ing."

"That'd be great!" says Lyra. "I'm sure Twilight would love having you there."

"Oh, I know she would," you say. Twilight rarely turns down an opportunity to spend time with you, and she's told you she'd love to have you at her O&O sessions - but before now, Lyra's presence made that impossible. "But now we can both sit at the same table without you jizzing all over Twilight's meticulously painted miniatures."

"Huh?" says Lyra, cocking her head to the side. 'What was that?"

"Does she not use miniatures?" you ask. "I just assumed."

"No, not that. What did you say just before that?"

"Oh," you say. You suddenly feel a little guilty about mentioning Lyra's uncontrollable orgasms. It's hardly a secret, but it hadn't occurred to you that she might be embarrassed by it. You lower your voice to a whisper. "I was just... talking about how you normally jizz all over the place when I'm around."

Lyra cocks her head in the other direction. "What?" she says. "Sorry, I'm not understanding you."

You consider your words, trying to come up with a way to make yourself clearer. "You... normally ejaculate uncontrollably when you see me."

She gives you an uncomprehending look. A suspicion starts to bubble up in your mind, and you ask her, "Lyra, why is that we couldn't normally be around each other?"

"Oh," she says, "Well... when I saw you, uh... something would... I would, uh... Hmm." She scratches her head, clearly confused.

"You don't remember?" you ask. "Your dick would get hard, and-"

"My what?"

"Your dick," you say. She looks confused.

"Lyra," you say, "Repeat after me. Penis."

"Uh..." Lyra shrugs. "I didn't catch that, dude. Is that a human word?"

"It doesn't matter where it's from!" you say, getting a little frustrated. "Can you just repeat the two syllables? Pe. Nis."

Lyra is a little cowed by your mild outburst, and her face scrunches apologetically. "Sorry," she says, "I don't think I'm hearing you right."

"Great," you say, "It looks like Twilight's spell actually made you incapable of thinking or talking about anything sexual. I don't think that was quite the desired effect. Hey, if you're done eating, do you wanna go talk to her? I want to make sure you're gonna be okay."

"Oh!" says Lyra. "Uh, sure. Hey, uh... it sounds like you're kind of upset about something, and I can't quite figure out what it is. Did..." she looks across the table at you, hope suspended in her eyes like a delicate crystal. "Did our date go okay?"

You wave your hands in what you hope is a reassuring manner. "Yes!" you say, "Yes, I had so much fun, I want to hang out with you more, you're really great, I'm just... concerned about some possible side effects from the spell."

"Okay," she says, visibly relieved. "Sure, let's go talk to Twilight." She tries to stand up, but her body seems to catch on the underside of the table, jolting her back down. "Oof," she says. "Hey, can you move the table away from the wall? I'm having some trouble scooting out."

You nod, and pull the table as Lyra pushes. As you move it away from her, though, you see something underneath. Something that hadn't been there before. There was a huge, fleshy mass, the same pale green as Lyra's coat, taking up almost all of the space underneath the table. And it was unmistakably attached to Lyra. Lyra's cock and balls had grown to massive proportions - her ballsack was larger than the entire rest of her body, and her cock rivaled Twilight's when soft. And Lyra's cock was still soft - for all its size, there was no trace of physical arousal.

"Lyra!" you shout, attracting the attention of everyone in the building. "Your balls!"

Lyra gives you the same uncomprehending look. "Damn it," you say, "Come on, you have to know that this isn't normal!" You reach down and pat your hand on her scrotum for emphasis. The texture of her balls is the same velvety fur as the rest of her, and the motion of your hand kicks up a heady whiff of musk, enough to make you briefly light-headed. Shit, no wonder the smell was so intense throughout the meal. Her balls have been growing the entire time!

She looks down at your hands, but she doesn't seem to even see her overgrown genitals. In desperation, you lift your hand and bring it down in a full-force smack on her scrotum. She should be crying out in pain, not to mention furious, but she doesn't even flinch.

Damn, this is serious. She can't talk about sex, she can't see or feel her own balls... this is definitely not what Twilight intended. You need to talk to her. "Hey, Lyra, get up okay?" You grab Lyra's hand and pull her upward. "I think we need to go see Twilight about that spell."

"Uh, sure," she says, and stands upright. "I still don't understand..."

"Just trust me," you say.

Lyra tries to step out of her chair, but she stumbles forward as her feet catch on her own giant ballsack. "Woah," she says, "I think I stood up too fast." Damn, this isn't going to work - she can't walk forward if she can't see her own giant balls. It would be difficult even if she could see them. You tell her to "Just trust you" again, and start dragging her backwards towards the front door. Progress is slow, with her balls dragging on the ground, but at least she's not getting in her own way anymore.

You're still attracting attention from the other restaurant-goers, but none of them are especially concerned. Some of them probably heard you mention Twilight, and they presumably figure that she'll get it under control. There's also the fact that hyper-engorged genitals aren't totally unheard of in Futaquestria. You first noticed the phenomenon for yourself while working the fields with Applejack; on one particularly busy day, you and her were working together and she didn't have the opportunity to jerk off throughout the whole ten-hour work day. Over the course of that time, her balls gradually grew from apple-sized to melon-sized. You asked Applejack to explain what was going on, and then sought out a less folksy explanation from Twilight. Twilight explained that sexual arousal, if not dealt with, could build up inside a mare and enlarge their genitals with no known limit. Until she had sexual release, they'd just keep getting bigger. It rarely reached the level you were seeing with Lyra, because enough built-up arousal tended to result in spontaneous orgasm.

But Twilight's spell had robbed Lyra of all sexual sensation, so arousal is still building up - and there's no obvious way to relieve it, if she can't feel anything. But getting her outside would be a good first step. Not an easy one, though - her ballsack is too wide for the door, and you have to squeeze through one ball at a time. As you press your hands against her balls, you can feel them growing, pushing outward, filling the air with more of her scent. They seem to be responding to your touch, even though Lyra can't consciously feel it. There's no way they were growing this fast while you were eating, but now that you're touching her, they've sped up considerably.

It's too much. You're not going to be able to drag her all the way to Twilight's castle. Her balls would be house-sized by the time you got there. You could leave her here and run to get Twilight, but... maybe it's your growing affection for Lyra or the thick, pungent Lyra musk in your nostrils, but you can't bring yourself to leave her alone. If you can just make her cum, she'll be all right...

Her cock has been growing slower than her balls, but it's still been getting longer all this time. The flare of her cockhead is as wide as your face, and that gives you an idea. You lift her limp shaft, bring it to your face, and begin to make out with it, darting your tongue in and out of her slit. You surprise yourself with your enthusiasm; the taste of her cockflesh is delicious, like licking up a concentrated mouthful of her scent.

"What are you doing?" says Lyra. She's not objecting to your tongue-job; she just still doesn't know what's going on. But her cock is reacting; a thick drop of her precum leaks onto your tongue, and you lap it up greedily. You've never tasted cum before, but Lyra's jizz drives you even further into your frenzy. You want more. You want all of it. You're face-to-face with a scrotum twice as big as your body, and you want everything inside it. You drink each drop of precum as it reaches her tip, and before long her cock starts to harden. You cling to it as it rises, still feeding your newfound addiction to the taste of Lyra's cum.

As her cock lifts into the air, you climb onto her balls to keep your face level with her cockhead. You kick your shoes and socks off and sink your toes into the soft green fur of her nutsack. As she nears a full erection, you wrap your arms around the underside of her cockhead, and rest your upper thighs on her medial ring. Her cock is supporting the full weight of your body now, and the flow of precum is increasing.

"Oh..." moans Lyra, "I... I'm starting to feel something... d-don't stop..." You lick faster, and run your fingers along the head of her cock, but you're starting to worry that you might not be able to bring her to orgasm. Her cock is massive, and your hands and tongue can only do so much...

Your hand reaches down to the ring in your pocket. Twilight said it would make your body "stretchy" enough to take her cock. Lyra's cock was even bigger, now, but it might still work...

You dig the ring out of your pocket ad and slip your pants off. You hear a hooting from ground level, and you look around to see that a small crowd of mares had gathered. Not surprising, really. You're the guy that all the women in town want to fuck, and you're getting naked and climbing a giant marecock. You reach the top of Lyra's dick, set your ass down on it, and slipped the ring onto your finger.

The excited cheers from the crowd grow in intensity as the horny mares see your ass start to expand. Before your rump even reaches its full size, you begin to slide downward, your asshole opening up effortlessly to accommodate the circumference of Lyra's cock. Your body shivers with pleasure as you feel the flesh of Lyra's shaft pressing against the walls of your ass. You would never have dreamed that having a cock in your ass would feel this good. If you'd known, you never would have turned down the women of this world. You'd have let Applejack rut you in the apple fields. You'd have let Rarity lay you down on velvet sheets and make love to your ass. You'd have taken Twilight inside you, all of her.

Or you would have tried, at least. There seemed to be limits on the flexibility of your body, even with the magic ring. Your ass is impaled on Lyra's cock, and you slide down further and further - so far that the shape of her flared head begins to show through your belly, pressing on your skin from the inside. You run your hand over the outline of her head, marveling as it distends your body more and more. Finally, you feel your ass hit her medial ring, and you feel like you won't be able to get any further.

"What's going on?" asks Lyra dreamily. "It feels so good..."

"Lyra!" you shout, "Move me up and down! Use your magic!"

Lyra's horn glows, and her magic surrounds you with a strong, formless grip. She pushes you upward, then pulls you back down, and the sensation drives the breath from your lungs. You try to cry out, but only a pained, choking sound comes from your throat. Lyra, still unable to totally feel what was happening, only moans with pleasure. She lifts you up again, then drops you, and soon her magic is moving you faster and faster, pumping you up and down, using you as a cocksleeve to get herself off. Hot jets of precum splatter against the inside of your ass, and you feel the flesh of her cock twitch with each new burst. The rapid, jerking movement of your body makes it hard to focus on anything, but you see mares on the ground masturbating, sucking each other off, cumming on each other... you and Lyra have become the centerpiece of a growing orgy.

You feel yourself approaching orgasm. Every thrust of Lyra's cock stokes the fire in your loins and presses against your prostate - not to mention every other part of you - and you cum harder than you've ever cum in your life. It's nothing compared to the orgasm of a dickmare, but it seems to go on forever, shooting rope after rope of cum onto the appreciative crowd below.

But even as your own orgasm is going on, you can think of nothing besides Lyra's orgasm. It's getting nearer now - her cock's twitches are growing stronger and coming closer together. "Lyra!" you manage to shout, "Cum in my ass, Lyra! I want you to fill me with your cum!"

This seems to spark a realization in Lyra's brain. "I..." she stammers, "I'm... I'm fucking you!" She sounds disbelieving, as if waking up from a dream. "I'm fucking your ass! I... I'm gonna cum! I'm coming!"

And she is. Her jizz hits you like a punch to the gut - only from the inside. Your belly swells, and the next burst, flowing into your sloshing stomach, doesn't hit you quite so hard. You place your hands on your belly, feeling its growth, feeling Lyra's cum flowing through her cock, rumbling past your ass and exploding into your stomach. There's no discomfort as you expand - the growth of your body feels natural, as if you were always meant to be filled with a dickmare's hot, thick cum.

You must look strange, swelling like a balloon on the tip of Lyra's cock. Your body loses its shape, becoming almost spherical, and each fitful spurt pumps you with more and more of Lyra's liquid love. Your increasingly spacious body begins to slide further down her cock, taking more and more until she's balls deep inside your huge, bloated body. Finally, her orgasm dies down, and you feel her dick begin to go limp inside of you. "I'm... coming..." Lyra repeats, and then drifts off to peaceful slumber.

You feel like you could sleep too, but your drooping eyelids snap open when you see Twilight emerge from behind a building and shout your name. It takes her a moment to recognize the cumflated blob as you, but when she does, she slows to a walk, looks up at your face, and places a hand on your swollen belly. "You look good," she says. Her cock, already hard, begins to drool with precum. "This is a good look for you."

"Twilight!" you say, trying to sound serious, "Your spell screwed up."

"I can tell," she says, patting Lyra's gigantic balls. "But it looks like your date went great."

Author's Note

Created for Megapone's Super July Clop Jamboree. Pretty sure I got that name right. Anyway, I might have gone a little heavy on the worldbuilding, but this was fun to write!

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