Scootaloo Springs Up

“C’mon squirt! You’re slacking!”

Dash slowed down her sprint and stopped once she reached a bench. She and Scoot had just finished their run through Whitetail Woods. Well, almost finished, Scootaloo was lagging behind, but not because she was winded or tired as was the case a week ago. Dash just happened to have longer, stronger legs and was, of course, going to finish first. The water bottle Rainbow had left for herself next to the bench before her run was getting dangerously close to lukewarm. In ten seconds, Dash had cracked the cap and drank half of it. Scootaloo jogged up to Dash a few seconds after taking her drink, crouching down to get her own water bottle.

“Whew…how…how’d I do?” she asked, twisting the cap off her water bottle and guzzling the water.

“Waaay better than last time. I think you’ve got a new personal record,” said Dash, fishing her phone out from between her tightly squeezed tits and scrolling through her workout notes. “Seven whole minutes faster! Plus you didn’t stop for a breather at any time during this run.”

“I feel like I shoulda stopped. My feet hurt,” complained Scootaloo, switching from her crouch to sit on the ground.

“Lemme see,” Dash squatted down, her breasts straining through her sports bra. “Where specifically?”

Scootaloo grabbed the top half of her shoe to show, “Here, on the sides, and the front.”

“Hm,” Dash scanned Scootaloo’s sneakers,” Yup, there's your problem. The stitches on the sides are breakin’ off. I can see your socks through your shoe where it’s tearing on both sides,” Dash punctuated this by poking where she could see the white fabric, and then pressed her thumb against the tip of Scoots’ shoe. The bumps of Scootaloo’s toes were right there, pushing against the top.

“Geez Scoot, how old are your sneakers?” asked Dash, looking at Scootaloo incredulously.

“They’re uh, like, three years old, I think?” replied Scoot, absently scratching at her chest.

Dash raised an eyebrow at her.

“What? You know I’m mostly on my scooter with these things and not running… they wouldn’t wear out as fast. Plus, it’s not like they stopped fitting right all that time…” sighed Scootaloo.

“Well, in any case, these sneakers are toast. I’m not letting you run in broken shoes,” Dash stood up and gulped the rest of her water bottle. “C’mon, let’s go back to my place. You’re lucky that I make impulse buys, because I bought a REALLY cool pair of sneakers that are too small for my feet, but should be enough to fit you. I think you can have ‘em.”

Scootaloo gasped, jumping up in excitement, “Really!? I can just, have them? Just like that?!”

“Of course,” Dash grinned, already walking towards her house, “I’ll never fit in ‘em. Plus, I lost the receipt.”

“Thank you thank you so MUCH!” Scootaloo practically skipped after Dash, heading down the trail after her. After a few minutes Scoot stopped momentarily to peel off her old sneakers, following after Dash with her shoes in hand.

“So how cool are these sneakers anyway? On a scale from bleh to awesome?” asked Scootaloo, sitting on the floor of Dash’s room, peeling off her dirty socks and bundling them.

“Totally awesome! If I can just, find, these dumb things,” grunted Dash, tossing out all kinds of footwear from her closet floor. Scootaloo watched in mild amusement as slippers, sandals, boots, clogs, and all kinds of different pairs of sneakers landed around her. A pair of individually toed rubber… things landed at her feet and Scoot picked it up, intrigued at what the heck wearing this would feel like.

“Feels pretty weird, in case you were wondering,” Dash said over her shoulder, “Impulse buy. At that split-second I thought they were cool.”

“Yeah, they kind of look it,” Scootaloo tossed them behind her, wondering how much all this stuff costed Rainbow to buy. A giant sized pair of pink flip flops flew past her ear. Scootaloo picked it up and laughed at how huge it was. Size 15. More than twice the length of her foot!

“Why would you buy these, Rainbow?” Scootaloo clapped the two sandals together.

Dash rolled her eyes. “That was a gag gift from Pinkie Pie. She thought it would be funny because I made a joke about girls with big feet.”

“What was the joke?”

“Uh,” Dash paused her search, wincing. “It wasn’t a very good joke, actually.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Aha, found it!” Dash exclaimed, pulling a shoe-box out from deep in the back of the closet. “Heh, I forgot they were in the box. Thought I just let them scattered on the floor. Check these babies out!”

“Whoa…” Scootaloo’s eyes went wide once Dash unpacked them and set them on the floor.

They were one of the more expensive brands of running shoes, like the pair Rainbow Dash had on currently. Each sneaker had a slightly different color variation, and looked like it was a pair of white sneaker that had been splashed with various buckets of neon bright paint. The laces were a criss-cross of different colors, and the signature of the designer of the sneaker was scrawled on the left shoe in bright gold ink. They were also high-tops, which provided some ankle support. Scootaloo just gazed upon them in their brand new shoe glory.

“Gimme your foot,” said Dash, sidling closer to Scootaloo and beckoning with her fingers. Scoot scooched forward and lifted her leg up.

“Wait, these aren’t my size,” Scootaloo groaned in disappointment, looking at the number inside the sole. “These won’t even fit me.”

Dash grabbed her around the ankle and pressed the bottom of her foot against the rubber underside of the shoe. To her surprise, the tips of Scootaloo’s toes were not that far away from a perfect fit. Maybe a few centimeters? Scootaloo’s eyes were as wide as frisbees.

“I think they’ll fit ya,” smirked Dash, dropping Scootaloo’s ankle and unlacing the sneaker, “so put some fresh socks on and try them out. They might be a little bit loose, but you should be fine.”

Scootaloo had some new socks on in a flash, and a few seconds later, had the shoes on and was walking around the room in them.

“These fit! I can’t believe they fit!” Scootaloo exclaimed, jumping up and down. “I’ve been the same size shoe for like, ever!”

“I bet your shoes fell apart because you’re just outgrowing those worn out things,” Dash stood up and inspected Scootaloo, who had stopped jumping to admire her new digs in the mirror. “I think you got taller too, Scoot.”

“No way! Am I taller? How do I check?” Scootaloo looked like she was going to jump up through the roof in her excitement.

“I check,” emphasized Dash, rummaging through her closet drawers. After a few seconds she pulled out a tape measure, tugging out a few feet of yellow plastic. “Step on this with your shoes off,” she directed.

Scootaloo immediately kicked her shoes off and stepped on the end of the tape measure, butterflies in her stomach. Dash ran her fingers up to the top of Scootaloo’s head, pinching her thumb where the tape measure lined up.

“How tall didja say you were, Scoot?”

“Four foot, ten inches!”

“Not anymore! Scootaloo, you are officially five foot nothin’.”

“NOWAY NO WAY!” shouted Scoot in excitement, turning around to look at the tape. Sure enough, where Dash had lined up her fingers matched. Scootaloo had grown a whole two inches taller.

“I can’t believe it! Best day EVER!” Scootaloo fistpumped, spinning in a little circle.

Dash beamed, crossing her arms under her bust, “Well, that is super cool to here. I guess my totally rad diet and exercise routine is just what your body needed. Now, c’mon, I think it’s time to do some lifting to celebrate.”

Scootaloo nodded in agreement, watching Dash saunter out of the room to her basement gym. As soon as Dash was out of sight in the hallway, Scootaloo pulled her arm through the hole in her T-shirt to scratch at her chest again. She had been itchy earlier, and the sensation had resurfaced. Or maybe it wasn’t itchy, her chest felt tender, moreso than it ever had. A couple days she had tripped on a tree root and fallen on the ground there. Was she just bruising now?

“Scootaloo! Are you slacking? I said lifting time!”

“Comiiiing!” called Scootaloo, slipping into her awesome new sneakers, wiggling her toes in the extra roomy shoes.

“So, how was your first real workout?” asked Dash, doing some post-workout stretching on the mat.

“You mean last week’s workouts were just warm-ups?” moaned Scootaloo, wincing as she stretched out her legs. Now that she was looking, she noticed her socks didn’t roll up as much past her ankle. It wasn’t like she had much personal time yet today to freely inspect herself.

Dash scoffed like a schoolteacher who was just asked for a third bathroom break. ”Of course. You don’t start climbing a mountain at the halfway point. Or something. Point is, things have to be gradual. Especially for exercise so you can adjust. Believe me, if I skipped last week’s plan and just went into this today, you woudn’t even finish.”

“Makes sense,” agreed Scootaloo, twisting her torso to grab her leg, and stretching that too. “I don’t feel as dead exhausted as I felt last week, even after doing some of the bench pressing.”

“Psh, believe me, Scoot, after we’re done here, you’ll be pressing that thing fully loaded as if it weighed nothing,” said Dash, encouragingly, pulling a seat at a small fold up table that was off to the side in the gym. It was currently carrying the burden of their phones, keys, and water bottles. And now, with Dash sitting there, both of her heavy tits resting on the table’s surface and revealing a veritable valley of cleavage.

Scootaloo laughed, walking over to sit, “You can’t even bench that much weight, Dash!”

“Well I’m not the one adhering to a super-strict diet and exercise regimen, you are,” Dash opened up a candy bar right in front of Scootaloo, and took a big exaggerated bite out of it. Scootaloo gasped, then started laughing from the absurdity of it. Dash gulped, then tossed the other half of the bar into the trash.

“That was waaay too sweet for me,” Dash took a mighty swig of water and rinsed her mouth. “No more comedy chocolate.”

“K,” grinned Scootaloo, fighting back her giggling. “So now what?”

“Now, Scoot, we arm wrestle,” Dash lifted up and firmly planted her elbow onto the table, opening her palm.

“…are you serious?” Scootaloo said uneasily, putting her elbow on the table as well. Dash's arm was firm, taut, and slightly slickened with sweat, her forearm muscles much thicker than Scootaloo’s own, and Dash’s bicep was popped out and bulging. It wasn’t bodybuilder extreme huge, but as far as Scootaloo could recall, was bigger and more prominent than any other woman’s she could recall seeing. It was like the size of a baseball, and nearly as intimidating as one flying towards her face.

“One hundred percent serious. As a weekly test of your strength, we’re gonna arm wrestle, and no playing around for me, I’m going to give it my all, every single time,” Dash balled her fist, knuckles cracking, “and every time, you’ll resist a little more, and get closer and closer to putting me down. A real test of your strength and a way for you to feel it.”

“Okay…” Scootaloo clasped her hand against Dash’s larger palm, squeezing tight, and looking into her rosy eyes with some determination.

“One.”

Scootaloo gulped.

“Two.”

Dash tensed her muscles.

“THREE!”

The table jumped from the force of Dash slamming Scootaloo’s arm down. Scootaloo yelped, swiveling in her seat. The sudden movement automatically made her adjust, and she stared sideways up at Dash (but mostly her incredible cleavage) in shock.

“I wasn’t kidding, squirt,” Dash grinned triumphantly. “Don’t sweat losing. A couple months and you’ll actually have a chance of winning. That’s why strength training is going to take a bigger role in our workouts in the coming months. A few more weeks of tandem running heavy cardio, and you’ll definitely have burned off your belly fat. Now, it’s meal time for you. Head upstairs while I go shower up, kay?”

“Kay,” said Scootaloo, rubbing the back of her hand and watching Dash sashay upstairs. She was just amazing looking in those spandex. As she was busy ‘mirin, Scoot realized she’d switched from rubbing her hand to scratching her chest again. Now that she was alone, she walked up to one of the full length mirrors and lifted up her shirt. Scootaloo gasped.

It was her belly fat, or lack thereof. Where once a little bulge stuck out in front of her, there was now none at all. Scootaloo reached down to her belly and traced her fingers along the smooth contours of her stomach. It was flat, smooth, and warm. She wasn’t even sucking it in or anything! The other cause for her discomfort was obvious as well. Her chest had been bothering her lately, and now she could see why. Where there was once flatness and near featureless features on her chest, were two slightly protruding puffy mounds. Her areola, which was nonexistent as far as she could remember, had darkened and spread around her nipples in a wide circumference, and her two little nipples had developed, lengthened and perked out. When Scootaloo pulled her shirt down and stretched it tightly, she could see the outlines clearly through her shirt. It was official! She was growing bigger there too!

Letting her shirt drop, Scootaloo bounded upstairs. She was so excited that she took two steps at a time. This month was going to be great.