A DAY AT THE BRONY CONVENTION

Gotta stay focused.

Daddy – er, Willy – says this is important!

An absurdly top-heavy Fluttershy trots cheerfully across the con floor, her ridiculous M cup titties bounding and swaying uncontrollably with every step, jerking her otherwise compact, lissome figure rudely down in rhythm with her stunted pace. Bronies gawk, eyes wide with astonishment. One con-goer drops his prized Scootaloo plushie. Shocked girls stop and point in jealousy, disgust, and amazement. A con staff member covers the eyes of his young son, gasping indignantly. Others openly laugh at sight of the poor girl laboring with the task of toting such a tremendous load.

Oblivious to all of this, she rolls her shoulders vacantly, her tired mind wholly consumed by the achy, bouncy burden pulling incessantly at her ribcage.

Golly, these things are heavy...! Even just walking is starting to hurt...

Have they always been this big??

Behind her, she hears a voice.

– Excuse me – ma'am?

She swivels around, inadvertently sending her bounteous, overstuffed bazongas careening against one another, shifting nimbly on her supple haunches to maintain a modicum of stability. A little brony with a sharp little beard shakes nervously with his little camera before her.

– You're the most b-beautiful cosplayer I've ever laid eyes on... C-can I take a picture with you??

Flattered, she blushes hot pink. She shyly curls a salmon-pink lock of hair about her pale flaxen finger. Her equine ears flatten sheepishly.

– Of – of course!

– C-cool!

Carefully, he wraps one arm about her slim waist. Even at 4'11", she's nearly head-and-shoulders taller than he is. Each of her boobs is easily bigger than his entire head. She does a little "V for Victory" hand gesture, grimacing awkwardly, maneuvering her extravagant rack deftly to narrowly avoid bopping him in the nape of his neck with her fulsome funbags. Shivering, he snaps the photo.

– T-thanks!

And he runs off to upload the photo to 4chan.

That was nice, but I really do need to hurry!

Wait... where was I going again?

– WOW!! That's an AMAZING Fluttershy outfit!!

– Super sexy! Oops, was that rude...?

– Ahem! I think what my friend means is... you look awful pretty!

– May we take a picture with you??

Three adolescent girls, dressed in custom Cutie Mark Crusader outfits, circle with wide-eyed admiration.

I guess one more photo op won't hurt...

– C-Certainly!

– Awesome!!!

They crowd around her body, smiling ecstatically. She musters a meagre grin as a passerby takes the picture.

– Take one with us too, please!

A pair Lyra and Bon-Bon cosplayers have approached.

– S-sure...!

– And us!!

A small line has formed, and begins to grow.

– May I have a photo as well?

– Us too!!

– Don't forget about us!!

***

Such wonderful people!

Everypony is being so nice to me today, for some reason... I feel like a celebrity! Gosh, I must have posed for 20 or 30 photos, and there's still more coming! At first I was a little hesitant, but I've been having lots of fun with these last 15 or so! For one person, I pretended to be very sleepy, and rested my big tiddies on top of his head – I hope he didn't mind! For another one a guy wanted me to crawl around on all fours like a kitty cat, and my boobies kept dragging across the tile floor and I couldn't stop whimpering 'cuz my nipples were rubbing the floor pretty hard... he seemed like such a nice person I couldn'tve just let him down! But, um, to be honest... I really got into that last one, jumping up and down and pretending like I was a cheerleader while that nice man with the fedora took a video of me on his phone... even though I'm exhausted and sweaty and my chest hurts from all that bouncing, but ever since I've kinda started getting out of my shell, it's really been a lot of fun!

Everypony is just so nice to me here...

Suddenly, an insultingly obese middle-aged man with a Princess Celestia doll approaches.

– Hey, what about me?? I wanna take a photo with Big-Titty Fluttershy!!

She blanches.

"Big-Titty Fluttershy"...?

Absentmindedly she brushes the plump top-halves of her solemnly heaving headlights.

Is that all I am to these people...?

Just a pair of... big tits...?

Salty tears begin to well up in her big, innocent turquoise eyes. Disoriented, she wanders away sadly from her excitable queue of expectant fans, hazy and unsure of herself, anxiously wringing her coral tail, stroking at it forlornly, fretting fearfully.

– Where is she going??

– What's the deal??

– Hey!! Get back here, bitch!! You owe me a photo!!

...

I used to be different...

Didn't I...?

Who was I back then...?

I used to be...

She tries hard to remember. A vague memory wafts through her withering mind.

A balding geek in the mirror.

... a boy...??

And now I'm...

She squishes her breasts together, feeling their great weight roll against her tiny hands. Letting go, they wobble back into place, yanking her upper body slightly forward in the process. She flutters her little wings nervously.

No... no... that's impossible...

– Hm... your figure seems to be filling out quite nicely... For such a tiny little thing, you certainly have become an awful BIG girl up top, now haven't you Stephen?

That name!! What was that name you just called me!?

– How would you feel... if they were to get... just a little bit... BIGGER??

Wha...? No!!

Please...

Don't...!!

A viciously familiar tingling sensation begins to smolder deep within her huge M cup chest, glowing hotter and hotter. Fat cells divide and then re-divide rapidly in a cancerous, red-hot, burning burst of unwelcome growth & stimulation. Her humongous hooters quiver painfully against the increasingly constricting grip of her already overburdened brassiere, searing pain rippling through her virulent, blossoming rack as new blood vessels, screaming nerve endings, and visceral veins of subcutaneous fat proliferate with sadistic vengeance. Clutching desperately at her throbbing, billowing bust, she sobs pitifully, compressing them as hard as she can in a vain attempt at halting their inexorable growth. Her nipples cut like bloated strawberries into the fabric of her heavy-duty orthopedic bra, which slowly strains to morph itself in a bid to accommodate her expanding size.

It hurts!!!

T-they're too big!!

– Yes, a special present from me! A little something to tide you over 'til your next big, fertile growth phase... By the way, I've been following your little internet peepshow – you're quite the little starlet! ... Ah, but you really must try harder to please your most devoted fans... Here, let me help you get started...

Suddenly, something like a hormonal switch flips deep within her endocrine system. Then: slowly, surely, uncomfortably, an ominous pressure gathers in the twin cores of her ballooning tits. Her mammary glands – overgrown, impatient, fed by thick, hot, rich blood full of succulent nutrients – begin to feverishly manufacture thick, hot, rich milk deep within their painfully overstimulated lobules. She groans in surprise & humiliation as the skin on her breasts stretches agonizingly taught. An impressive new NN cup nursing bra forms, its thick absorptive pads cradling the distended, darkening nubs of her fat nipples.

Owwww... my boobs feel like they're on fire...!

Bits of shivering titflesh bulge and spill from their immense (yet somehow still too-small) containers as her growth spurt mercifully eases to a halt. However, a dim, pulsing, churning sensation persists deep within her breasts – the silent stir of her now (over)active mammary glands.

– That oughtta do it for now...

"Fluttershy" whimpers pitiably, clearly frightened by the ominous, unrelenting pressure that continues to build within her throbbing, stretched, veiny knockers.

– Ah, yes... and congratulations!! Those ridiculous, fat cow udders on your chest ought to begin giving milk in no time!

Her breasts now cover nearly the entirety of her upper body. Stopping just short of her waistline, they hang rotundly like two bulbous elliptical basketballs drooping from her otherwise trim & fit torso. She weeps bitterly, cursing her fate, her massive boobs stretching the material of her T-shirt into near-transparency. Her big white brassiere is clearly visible through the fabric. Its wide, painful straps dig mercilessly into her shoulders & back. Her huge bust quakes from side to side in time with her groaning sobs.

...

You – you called me "Stephen"... that's who I really was – who I really am – isn't it?

– Not any more you're not.

A tiny burst of milk production deep within her glands advances her bust a millimeter further against the tight cups of her nursing bra. She winces.

– Nowadays people call you "Fluttershy." They gawk and fantasize about your bloated tits. They run to touch themselves in the privacy of the nearest restroom. Men jizz their pants involuntarily at the sight of you. They see you as a piece of meat. Secretly, they hate you because they know they cannot have sex with you. Women live in bitter envy of your bloated mammaries and their hypnotic effect on men. They begrudge you the attention you've stolen. They mock your intelligence behind your back.

She clenches her teeth in rage and despair.

Bitter tears vanish into her cleavage.

– You're just a pair of huge tits. No one really loves you. No one ever will.

Wrapping her arms around the underside of her bust, she gazes down at her expansive rift of dark cleavage in resignation & sorrow, cradling in helpless arms the twin existential horrors which presently define her very being.

I'm gonna be trapped in this walking advertisement for sex for the rest of my life...

She runs her fingers across her severely overtaxed promotional T-shirt.

... aren't I...

– Ding ding ding!!! We have a winner!!

She lurches forward from a slight spasm in her mammary lobules – another tiny burst of involuntary milk production, pressing her breasts even harder against soft pads of her enormous, overladen nursing bra. Deep within her firm, full milk factories, she can feel their insatiable need to make more...

more...

MORE!!!

...

I didn't want this... I never wanted this...

Tears of anguish fall from her cheeks onto her immense chest, staining her T-shirt.

...

Suddenly, a sharp jab of pain jolts through the side of her huge left boob, causing her to cry out in surprise and agony. A passing stranger has just elbowed her HARD in the chest, his head absorbed in his Nintendo 3DS game.

– WHOOPS!

He wheels about.

– Holy shit! I am SO sorry ma'am... I wasn't watching where I was going and...

She is doubled over, gnashing her teeth, choked with racking sobs at the unfairness and cruelty of life.

– ... are you okay?

She continues to clutch her chest, moaning feebly, too terrified even to speak. Slowly, the pungent pain in her chest begins to subside, though the dark knot in the pit of her stomach remains.

Damn, are those things real?

– ... ma'am?

Fearfully, she cradles her immense bust with one arm, striving hopelessly to cover as much of her chest area as possible. Her other arm tugs desperately at her tiny blue miniskirt in a futile attempt to mask the luxurious, sweeping arc of her full hips. Failing utterly, she whimpers pathetically. Her obscene body refuses to be hidden.

That's gotta be the most impressive Hootershy cosplay I've ever seen...!

– I... I didn't mean to make you cry...! I feel... horrible...

At last, she summons the courage to speak.

– Oh, no! It's not your fault! It's...

– Not my fault?? Excuse my language, ma'am, but I elbowed you in theTIT. It is my fault. And I am so sorry.

– No, it's not that...! It's just that...

She turns away from him, practically swatting him in the face with her silky pink tail in the process.

– ... it's... it's these awful boobies...

She spins around once again to face him, fresh tears flowing down her tortured face. Her breasts knock against each other like huge sacks of bouncing gelatin, severely upsetting her sense of balance. Mortified, she clasps her arms to her bust, quickly facing away once more in shame.

– They're... horrible...

Her body rocks once more with miserable sobs.

Holy fuck, they are real!

– They're all anybody ever thinks about whenever they see me. I bet you're thinking about them right now.

Well, yeah... duh...

– Heck, they're pretty much all I ever get to think about! ...well, ok... that and cock...

She drools a little bit, unconsciously fondling her insatiable orbs.

Catching herself, she recoils her wayward hand in terror.

– You see?? No matter how much I squeeze them and touch them and suck them and rub them, they're always yelling at me: Squeeze us! Touch us! Suck us! Rub us! They drive me crazy!! And...!

She stomps an indignant foot, sending a shockwave rippling through her lavish, overripe tits. Attempting to cross her arms in anger, she only succeeds in looking ridiculous, forcing her arms apart across the impressive 12-inch shelf formed by her exceptionally prominent bust.

She breathes a beleaguered sigh.

– ... they're really heavy, so whenever I lay down it gets really hard to breathe... and they wobble all over the place wherever I go, and they're really really sensitive so every step I take they jiggle & hurt & I get really horny and I can't think straight! And I can't even cross my arms anymore when I get mad!! And they hurt really bad every time I try to run or jump! And... and now they've started making milk... pretty soon they'll be lactating!! And... and... it's kind of hard keeping my balance and they make my back hurt really really really bad all of the time and I feel really dizzy all the time and I'm pretty sure everyone's always looking at my nipples 'cuz they're really big and stick out so much and I can't think straight because my boobies are just so gosh-dang-darn-freakin' HEAVY!!!

Tears streaming down her face, she stares into his eyes, scanning desperately for the merest trace of sympathy or human understanding.

Geez lady, oversharing much...?

Averting his gaze from her pleading eyes, he gawks at her huge, fat, round, heavy tits. Her improbable bra and unmatched cleavage are easily visible through the translucent fabric of her straining T-shirt. He licks his lips.

... not that I'm complaining, I guess...

Seeing the animal lust in his uncaring face, she hangs her head in sorrow, filling her entire field of vision with her own distracting, all-consuming, indifferent bust.

Her face scrunches in deep disappointment.

– I... HATE them...

A black desolation darkens her face.

...

Awkward...

...

Well shit, I guess I've gotta say something...

– W-well... um...

He sputters.

– D-do you have a boyfriend??

What am I saying???

...

... meh, worth a shot...

She looks up, sniffling slightly.

– Well... kind of... Y-Yes.

Her face slowly brightens as she speaks.

– He's very kind, and he always helps me whenever I forget stuff I'm supposed to do. He's cute and he's very good at making lots of money!

Her eyes glow mischievously.

– And even though I haven't seen it yet, I'm pretty sure he has a really nice, big cock...!

Her tiny wings stand erect. She giggles.

He looks down at his feet, dejected.

Figures. Of course. Fuck. Every single time...

And here I thought for a moment she might be into me, telling me all about her titties out of the blue like that...

He takes a moment to recompose himself. Forgetting his disappointment, he firmly grasps her surprised shoulder, looking her straight in the eyes.

– Listen to me. You're worrying too much about what other people think. If all they can see in you is a just a dumb pair of walking tits – fuck 'em!! They don't matter. It sounds to me like you are in a relationship with a very special – and very lucky – man.

His eyes stray inevitably into her veritable canyon of cleavage.

– And, call it a hunch, and don't ask me how I know, but somehow I'm certain that he loves you VERY much. And I'll bet that nothing – not even your big, fat, wobbly, gigantic, painfully bloated titties – could EVER get in the way of that love.

She wipes a tear from her eye, looking up at him, tilting her head gently sideways, an expression of thankfulness & awe dawning upon her features.

– You... you really think so...?

– I know so.

A huge grin bursts across her face like a flashbulb. Scrunching her slender forearms gleefully against the sides of her basketball-sized boobs, mindlessly mashing together a bulbous mountain of cleavage, she does a little happy dance that nearly sends her precariously top-heavy frame toppling to the floor.

– W-whoa...!

Phew!

I can't believe she bought that shit... Her brain must NOT be used to thinking about anything other than cock and her own fat tits...

Sigh...

Wistfully he watches her improbable pornstar fetish-model body wobble its way back to equilibrium, waving arms for balance. An erection throbs impatiently in his jeans.

...

I wish her boyfriend would keel over dead.

She should be sucking my cock...!

Stupid bitch...

***

Stupid bitch!!!

Beating his meat furiously for the fourth time that afternoon, a certain Spike cosplayer grits his teeth with rage over the unfairness of it all. Those huge tits – getting bigger!! She was his girl – at least, in his fantasies. He couldn't stop thinking about her. With every new photo she'd upload, those luscious titties just kept on growing! His fingers ached to recall the experience of grazing those magnificent melons. So close! His brain cursed his hand. He flicked through her photos on Instagram for the hundredth time, edging himself closer & closer to climax, leaning back on the toilet seat.

Suddenly, he gets a notification. She's uploaded a new photo – another selfie of her as Fluttershy, holding up the camera to show off her unbelievably top-heavy figure in a semi-profile. Her breasts look absurd and blimplike on her petite body, even larger than before. A caption reads "my boobies have started making milk... and now they're even BIGGER!!! did you guys cause this???" She pouts with staged disappointment, pointing haughtily at her gigantic, indecently, irresponsibly overfilled chest.

FUCK!!!

He cums.