Tender Taps was, as his name implied, not the hardest sort. An Earth pony dancer with a soft orange coat and a purple mane and tail that made ponies think he was related to a certain local pegasus speedster, he'd never been bulky or muscular. Granted, he had his innate Earth pony strength, and as firm a chin as any colt could ask for, but he wasn't a jock.

And he liked it that way. A dancer had no need for swollen, hard muscles, after all, and doing a forward split was difficult enough without any added mass encumbering him. Still, he wondered sometimes, particularly when it came to his new friend.

"Howdie, Tender!" Apple Bloom greeted as he walked to his dance school.

Their dance school, now. Apple Bloom had signed up officially after her disastrous first performance, the one she'd done with him that had gotten him his cutie mark. Apple Bloom was a local legend, a farm girl the likes of which he'd never dreamed would want to consort with him. A strong girl, who was already old enough to help out on her family farm, kicking apples down from trees and whatnot. Tender wasn't sure if he could even make a tree wobble, let alone drop its juicy bounty. He could almost feel her eyes on his flank, checking him out. He couldn't wait to get dressed again in his loose attire.

"Hey, Apple Bloom."

"What's the matter?" she asked.

He sighed. That girl really didn't need much to read his mood for some reason. "Nothing's the matter. Why would anything be the matter?"

"Well, you're lookin' a tad greyer than usual, is all." She looked more closely at his arms and legs. "And you ain't got the same hop in your step you usually do. So what gives?"

He rolled his eyes as the school building came into view. From school to school to home, that was his routine. His old routine, at least. "It's nothing. Just been a little too t-t-t-tense the past couple of days, having trouble sleeping," he said. "My muscles get too stiff when I'm nervous, and the doctor said it's better if I don't try to fix that with pills, so she said I just need to go get a massage after practice for a couple of days. I've had it before, when I had that awful stage fright. No biggie."

"Oh. Well, gosh, it's nothin' serious, is it?"

"No, of course not. It's just to be safe, make sure my muscles don't lock up, and make sure they grow properly. And to make sure I don't get sick. I've been feeling really warm lately for some reason, my mom thinks it's a growth spurt waiting to happen."

She bumped her rump against his. "Want any help with that, then?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "Umm, I'm already getting a massage at the parlour, so..."

"Not like that. I mean with the sickness. Here, I got these bon bons." She ruffled through her bag and gave him a hoofful of treats. "Made'em for potion practice, mostly it's mint and some roots. It's a herbal treat."

That eyebrow quirked up even further. "Herbal treat?"

"Yeah, herbal treat. My family used to be pioneers, you see, they had to keep their medicine handy all the time. It's an old recipe: mint, some Heart's Desire, couple of mountain herbs, helps keep the fever at bay. It's mostly for little foals, especially when they're due for a growth spurt, so they don't get sore or nothin'. It's totally harmless."

Mountain herbs and something to help cardiac problems certainly sounded good. "Have you taken any, then?"

"Well, no, but I'm not feelin' hot for no real reason, and I'm not due for a growth spurt, either. If you think you might be getting sick, it'd help. What do you think? Wanna try some?"

He carefully took one of the green treats and eyed it, before turning to the entrance to school. "How does it work?"

"You take one every day, just one, when you’re feeling too warm. It's supposed to, ah, facilitate your metabolism to its optimal state, like, is what the book said, helps against growing pains. I reckon it's kinda like a magic diet pill, only not really."

"Wouldn't this count as cheating?"

"Cheating at what? It's not gonna make you grow; just make sure you don't get hurt when you grow. Plus, it keeps down fevers, if you've got the flu or anything like that. It's just a bon bon that makes growing less awkward and keeps you cool. If you don't want it, it's fine."

He needed no further encouragement than that. He gulped down the first treat, as any gentlecolt would when presented with a kindness from the girl that got him his cutie mark and, more importantly, had helped him clear the biggest hurdle to his dreams. "I'll take your word for it, then. But this had better not turn me into a monster. I don't wanna be a t-t-t-terrible snowpony or anything." He mentally slapped himself. After all his training, he still stuttered, but only for certain words, it drove him crazy sometimes.

Apple Bloom paid no heed to it and patted him on the back, before giving him a bag with enough treats to last a week. "Just let me know how you feel after practice. I promise, it'll help."

To be fair, Tender was feeling tired and sore, but not completely wrecked after practice. The treat Apple Bloom had given him had left a sweet and minty taste in his mouth, with herbal-y undertones, and it stuck with him even now. Maybe it needed more time to kick in. Or maybe it was just regular candy, and Apple Bloom was pulling the old 'magic feather' trick on him.

He had a spring in his step again as he trotted over to Ponyville spa. He hadn't even shed his clothes, but then he usually didn't. Everypony knew he was a dancer, anyway, and it's not like he smelled bad. After all the twirling, the jumping, the running on walls, or even just the constant, relentless rhythmic tapping with his hooves, he hardly smelled at all.

Part of him nagged at the back of his head about that, that he must not be working hard enough. Ponies like Apple Bloom's brother, Big Macintosh, they sweated.

Good boys smell. Big boys sweat good.

Where did that come from?

"Hey there, little tapping guy! What's the hap?"

Tender Taps smiled up at the white, blonde-maned mountain of muscle that greeted him. "Hey there, Bulk Biceps. Nothing much, just here to get the soreness out again."

A pink pony with a blue mane and tail waved the boy over. "Ah, Mister Tender, come right this way. And take off your clothes, you know you do not need them here."

Tender Taps eagerly trotted over to a back room and took off his shirt and pants, before flopping on Aloe's table.

"You seem perkier than usual," she said. "Good practice today? Been impressing the fillies, I should hope?"

"Sort of," Tender replied. "Well, not exactly. I told Apple Bloom about my problems, and she gave me this minty bon bon. She said it would help keep down fevers and stop any growing pains. I think it did."

"Oh, isn't that nice?" Aloe cooed as she started rubbing up and down his back, a gentle warm-up to the session. "You should make sure to thank her properly for that. Now, where do you need my attention today?"

"Err..." Before he could reply, he felt the mare's hooves press into the muscles of his butt. "Umm, there, yeah, right there. That's t-t-tight."

He felt, more than saw, the smile on her face. "I thought as much. Must take good care of your legs, after all."

He blushed, as the tender caresses made him feel warm all over, especially between his hind legs. Something throbbed there, and he suspected the treat was finally kicking in.

A shuffle behind him, and the noise of baths and steam in the background faded. Aloe had closed the door, giving them some privacy.

"Uhuh. That's why I'm here," he said. He was so tired all of a sudden, but he couldn’t think why. Aloe was good at her job like that.

"Exactly. Lie back and relax, Tender. You seem to be a bit... well, tender today."

He sighed contently and nodded. Soft, gentle pressure kneaded him, his soft muscles giving way like dough, warming up, unwinding after a long practice session. The memory was still fresh in his mind: everyone looking at him in anticipation, his hooves moving lightly across the floor, the ooh's and ah's of a captive audience.

His flank tingled at the thought.

Then that tingling moved to his loins again. He wriggled to make sure it was still hidden. It wouldn't be proper, even if it wasn't his fault.

"Falling asleep again, Tender?" Aloe asked.

"Huh? Nuh-no. I'm awake, Miss Aloe. What do you want to talk about?"

"Hmm..." Her hooves moved to his scalp. "If you need a nap, you should sleep. Do not worry, I know exactly what to do. I do not mind, you know that."

"Huh? But I-" His eyes fluttered open and shut as that pressure built up in his head. "Okay... just a little nap, then."

“There you go. Just let go of all that tension for me. You’ll feel much better afterwards, I promise. If you ever feel uncomfortable, you can tell me, okay?”

He nodded numbly. “Okay.”

That sweet minty taste in his mouth was still there. He could feel it churning in his stomach, fighting the burning in his veins.

As she let his head back down, he closed his eyes completely and let go. His legs were stroked and kneaded, squishy little boy muscles being warmed and treated to some relief, before more attention was brought to his butt. His hind quarters were always tense, but it didn't take much effort to unwind that. Up and down, his cheeks were stroked and tended to, hard-working fibres being eased into a more comfortable state.

Then his back, the only part that had a little bit of bona fide firmness to it, if only because every pony had a hard back. Lastly, his arms, little fleshy tubes didn't have much fight in them as strokes and kneadings got all the tension out.

The little boy could never keep track of how long he was there. This was his third session now, his first to follow right after a class, but he kept forgetting how long this took. What he did know was that once the tapping began, it was time to wake up.

A round of slapping and tapping from his neck to his hind hooves to back up his neck wrapped up his session.

"There, all done. It shouldn’t take long for your troubles to dissipate now, especially if Apple Bloom is feeding you."

"You really think so?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Of course. Applejack's little sister has a way with potions, you know. I'm sure whatever she gives you to help, will be very effective indeed."

"I hope so." With that, he hopped off the table and got dressed again, absent-minded. He wanted to smell his own smell again, not the fruity aromas of the spa. "See you tomorrow."

"Until tomorrow, Tender Taps. Rest well."

Tender felt sensitive all over, as he changed into his dancing clothes. He picked up the skintight white nylon shirt and wriggled his arms through, then pulled up his golden tights, blushing as he did. His cock was swelling again, giving him a nice little package up front. The fabric hugged him, accentuating his round belly and every little curve of his soft young body.

He let out a snort as the final piece came on: his shoes. Red dancing shoes, shined up to the point he could see himself in them. He shuddered with delight when he put on the one on his right hind leg. His cock twitched when the left was wrapped in the same shiny redness, making him stop to rub over his tender fabric-coated fur. His head pounded, he gulped as warmth spread through his body.

He couldn't dally. Good boys came when they had to.

With his hind hooves tended to, he slipped the final two shoes on his front hooves and went into the class.

The smell hit his nose like an anvil, and his body twitched again, especially his cock. He could feel that meat rising below, rubbing up tantalisingly against the fabric. He looked up and left at the clock, right above the window looking out on Ponyville. Five o'clock in the afternoon, plenty of sunlight left, perfect.

Then, he danced.

His hooves lifted up on their own accord, sending him into a flurry of movement. He gasped, he panted, he stared at his reflection, dumbly dancing with no music or teacher to guide him.

Good boys didn't need music or teachers to do what they had to.

Good boys listened to their bodies.

So he went on and on, going over his tap dancing routine like a machine. He ran up to the wall and did a backflip, barely stopping long enough to hold a pose before doing it again. He did a forward split, practically humping the ground with his legs spread, then didn't even flinch when he jumped up and did it again, pushing that soft, welcoming fabric against his tender flesh.

What's going on? Why can't I stop?

He was sweating like crazy now, his body taken over by the need to move. He looked up at the clock again.

Four in the morning. Darkness had fallen. He'd been dancing for over ten hours straight. But that was impossible.

Right on cue, fatigue caught up with him, and he collapsed. His breath came in ragged, his legs refused to move, he was sure he'd be cramping in agony in just a few seconds. But that was a good thing, because good boys like him didn't need to move when they did their duty. Other ponies would take care of him.

How did he know that, though? Where were all these strange new thoughts coming from? Had he learned about all this in school? He would have remembered taking notes on that sort of thing, surely? Maybe it was a lecture he hadn't been paying attention to? But he was a good boy; he always paid attention, didn't he?

With a lustful moan, he managed to bite on the edge of the shoe of his right front hoof and pull it off. His cock twitched again, and something in his bum clenched. With renewed energy, he shed the left front shoe, and almost cried out when he felt the air on the frog of that hoof.

Just a little more. He had to take his clothes off, relieve that pressure down below. He struggled to move his sore and tired muscles, but he finally managed to get a clumsy grip on his hind hoof shoes and get them off.

When they were free, he collapsed back onto the hard wood of the dance floor.

He lay there, feeling a drip coming from his cock. The clothes he still had on throbbed along with the rest of him, and he could almost swear there was a tube forming around his cock, something to suck and gulp down that icky mess.

He reached down to the hem of his shirt, and the tights.

"Just gotta pull it off..."

His hooves couldn't find any traction. The nylon was stuck.

He'd been cocooned. His suit was a part of him now.

Breathing in and out, it was almost like it was getting tighter, hugging him closer like a corset. The thing moved up towards his neck and down to wrap around his arms and hooves, pulsing, throbbing, stroking.

It was sealing him away. And it felt wonderful.

His cock throbbed harder, sending waves of pleasure through his little body.

Good boys are soft. Good boys are sensitive.

"W-what the..."

His tugging turned into rubbing, gentle touches going over his now nylon skin. Every touch sent ripples of joy through him, and made his cock drip in encouragement. Something inside him, close to his butt, clenched hard and it made him moan.

Good boys listen to their body.

"Please... I wanna..."

Tender is a good boy.

Tender Taps gasped, and put a hoof to his chest. His heart was trying to burst out of his chest, it was beating so hard. Every fibre of his being felt like it boiled. He barely registered his other hoof was on his boyhood, and getting quite slick in the process.

"Ow, my head." He wiped his brow, and only half noticed that was just getting some of the slickness on his forehead. He must have been really sweaty, to get so sticky. No matter, his mane covered that up most of the time, anyway.

Looking at his arm as he reached up, he was struck with confusion. He could have sworn his arms were usually thicker. His belly felt off, too, like someone had pressed down on him and taken away his healthy round pony belly. In its place, they'd left a deflated piece of fur, from the looks of it.

After a long minute of taking stock of himself, he finally had the presence of mind to switch off his alarm clock. He got out of bed and plodded downstairs, tucking in his boyhood as best he could.

"What a weird dream."

Author's Note

Hoo, boy, this one. This the most rushed thing I've written yet, and that's keeping in mind stories I've cranked out in a single weekend. The editing had to happen fast for the deadline, so there may be some hiccups here and there. Normally I'd have done two or three more edits before publishing, but hey, shouldn't be too bad.

Anyway, why write this? Primarily for the signal boosting (obviously), but also because, as regular readers may know, I already have a muscular colt OC who will be the main character in my next big story. I need the practice in describing him as well as the mental imagery involved in stimulating muscle growth. The dream sequences in this story are all inspired by hypnotherapy, specifically hypnotic imagery. I also needed to practise writing borderline behaviour in adults, which is where Aloe's gentle but entirely professional touches come in.

Plus, muscle foalcon. What? I'm a chaoist: my religion demands I write stuff like this from time to time, look it up. It's in Muhuly Book.