A DAY AT THE BRONY CONVENTION

– Well? Where is she??

Issy & Essra Mango, livid with rage, stand – curiously invisible in their tart, comely little busty-cosplayer bodies – amidst a thronging sea of oversexed, titty-obsessed fanboys anxiously awaiting the prophesied rearrival of their massive-uddered internet meme-idol who, it is said, shall soon perch once more at the storefront of ~~Twilight's~~ FLUTTERSHY'S ^GRANDE EMPORIUM (a division of H.C. Enterprises) as fortuitously foretold mere minutes ago by the great EQD (on what's rumored to be a hot tip from the store's manager himself!).

Issy stamps her foot impatiently, groaning.

– Arrrgh, what's the fuckin' deal? Wasn't she just here 10 minutes ago? Where the fuck did she go??

– Lemme check her Insta... this whore posts new shit like every 5 goddamn minutes, like she's some magic fuckin' Instagram machine...

– We gotta take this bitch out... WE'RE the busty pegasister cosplay stars here, not this deformed mutant-titty freak...

– Holy shit, she's got over 1 million followers...!

– These goddamn bronies make me sick... Well? Has she posted anything? Where is this bitch...?

– Nothing new.

– What's the deal??

***

Hysterical, lurching, practically pulled to the floor with every step from the sheer bounding gravity of her massive, leaky, milk-laden breasts, a certain internet-famous Fluttershy BE/macromastia fetish-idol stumbles fitfully towards her manager & boyfriend, sobbing uncontrollably, her distended see-through T-shirt sopping wet with hot, creamy milk and cold, disconsolate tears. Her delicate elbows buffeted fitfully by her heaving, unavoidable udders, she struggles through tearstained eyes to snap the perfect selfie with her phone at just the right angle for her fans, tugging fiercely at her collar in a frantic bid to flaunt as much cleavage as possible for the camera.

Oh great. Now what?

He sighs.

– Fluttershy, babe...? What's wrong, babe...?

She kneels, wailing on all fours, blubbering pathetically into his shirt, clawing dimly at his torso in remorseful penance, her monstrous, drooping, dripping tits hanging low like the hormone-fattened teats of an overfed, genetically-modified factory dairy cow.

– What the fuck's the deal, babe...?

With her long pink hair she hides her ashamed face from his gaze. Her wringing hands slide dejectedly from his pants, plunging into her own overabundant mass of cleavage, lost from sight in their seething, jostling immensity. Her forearms rest elliptically atop her bulging O cup boobs, buoying her torso from his legs like vast, corpulent, fleshy airbags.

Although she's so distraught she can hardly speak, she gravely removes a sleek, pink cellphone decked out with adorable anime charm trinkets from her Urban Satchel Louis Vuitton Bag and, turning aside, hands it over to a more-than-willing bystander who proceeds at her unspoken request to video-record her latest vlog update for the BTF ("Big Titty Fluttershy") fan community dutifully standing by, mashing that refresh button.

Quickly facing her super-rich megasexy businessman boyfriend once more, she chokes up, blubbering into his crotch dramatically, spilling big, fat, wet tears down his pants, dribbling down into her big, fat, wet cleavage.

– I... I'm so... sorry, Daddy...

She hangs her head low in abject shame.

– I've been... bad...

She looks up into his eyes sincerely, dramatically.

– I... it was... another man... he...

Choked tears of sorrow break her fractured, penitent voice.

– F-felt up... my tiddies...

Her voice drops to a despairing whisper.

– A-and... the truth is... I-I... sorta... liked it...

Suddenly her words grow grave & urgent.

– But I... I didn't mean to!! He... he just... grabbed me, a-and I didn't know... what to do...

Her wide, blue, tearful eyes beg forgiveness from his stoic gaze.

...

Finally, he speaks.

– I see.

She wriggles in desperation.

– O, I'm so sorry Daddy!! Please punish me!! I've been very bad...!

He thinks.

– Yes, yes... You've been a naughty, nasty little girl, and I'm very hurt by your thoughtless, selfish actions. I will have no choice but to punish you. Severely.

Her heartbroken head hangs repentant.

– ... with my cock tonight. The nastiest fucking imaginable. I'll break that pussy in half.

She looks up, stunned.

A smile breaks out over her face.

Overjoyed, she smooches his burgeoning crotch, bleating with gratitude.

– Oh, Daddy!!

Grabbing her by the crown of her head, he digs his fingers deep into her flowing hair. Savagely, he forces her mashed face up against his pelvis, rubbing her open mouth rudely in a vigorous circular motion across the obvious bulge of his throbbing, painfully-erect cock. He whispers mockingly in her shame-cocked ear.

– You dumb fuckin' heifer... you just don't know what you're doin', that's all... you're as dumb & excitable as a horny fuckin' chihuahua, aren't you...? "Thoughtless actions..." you can't even think anymore at all, can you, babe? Poor baby girly just wanted someone to milk her mean ol' fat titties, didn't she? Aw, poor baby...!

He slaps her ass, laughing.

She bucks her hips, whimpering, simpering, thankful, smiling.

– Don't worry, babe, I'll take care of those titanic tiddies soon enough... tonight, remember...

He taps his cock.

– Your punishment...

She bites her lip, pleading like a needy, famished Pavlov's dog.

Suddenly, a strangely familiar voice echoes in her head.

– Geez, that guy's ditz fetish has really done a number on your brain there, huh Stephen?

Stephen...? Who's "Stephen?"

She shakes her head dismissively.

There's no "Stephen" here...! Just me – my name is Fluttershy!

– Ha! This is too rich! Not only has your previous identity been utterly eradicated by that man's petty fetishistic desire, you've become his ideal big-fat-tiddy little slave girl – a sad man's brainless fucktoy!

Hey! That's not very nice! For your information, I am not just some mindless bimbo...! I just... really like cock, that's all, and I... um... forget stuff...? alot... recently... and maybe some words & stuff sometimes... but I'll have you know that my Willy really loves my big fat titties...! He says they're the biggest he ever saw. A-and... he says he doesn't even mind that they hurt my back a whole bunch!! Willy is super-sweet... and it's really sad that you'll never understand what we have...

She nods her pretty head defiantly.

In fact, I'm pretty sure you're the dumb one! Everypony knows there's no such thing as being "too rich"...! 'Cuz being rich is good, and my Willy is rich, and he's good, and I really...

The cold voice cackles.

– Whatever you say, "Fluttershy"...!

Her boyfriend's dark, masculine voice snaps her back into reality.

– But anyway, right now, babe... hey! Are you listening?

He flicks her little snout playfully. She giggles.

Willy is so funny!

– Anyway, right now...

Rolling his eyes, he pulls back the store's curtain to reveal a ravenous horde of bronies flooding the second floor landing, waiting for her.

A deafening, thunderous roar of adoration erupts.

The chatter rolls around.

At last...

SHE'S HERE.

– ... the customers are waiting! I don't pay you $9.50 an hour to be standing around cryin' your fuckin' eyes out all the time... breaktime's over – get back to work!!

Glued to the ground by the formidable ballast of her swollen tits, she struggles to stand up.

– B-but Willy... my titties are l-leaking!! My bra & shirt are soaked through!! I look like a freak!!

– Good to hear! We'll triple the base photo price! The customers will love it!

He shoves her reluctant, shivering body out into the storefront.

– B-but...!

Voracious fans claw, wrestle, and bite their way to the cashier table in a feverish, rabid frenzy. Trembling, she rests her burdensome chest on the cash register, nearly engulfing it in the process, granting her sorely overworked spine & shoulders the briefest smidgen of repose.

She sighs.

The icy voice returns.

– Ding ding!!! Refractory period's up! Having trouble holding those things up now, are we? Ha!! I doubt you'll be able to walk without help ever again after this round...! Have fun in your new gigantomastia-fetish body!

Suddenly, all fetishistic desires of the bronies assembled to ogle her ridiculous chest become one with the will of her genome. Her cellular structure listens intently, hushed, ready to please.

Then, the inevitable.

A familiar rumbling builds deep within the core of her breast along with a pins-and-needles sensation in her stretched skin. Blood vessels rush to supply nutrients, new capillaries forming rapidly to allow for even greater bloodflow. Slowly, surely, her mammary glands & fat cells begin to split & multiply – apparently, for her newly-reprogrammed pituitary gland, her current basketball-width O cup breasts are simply not massive enough.

Her breasts begin to grow.

They grow so slowly as to be virtually imperceptible. One by one, eager customers pose with her at $30 a pop. She does her best to meet their desires by all means necessary (without angering Daddy again, that is) – jiggling her chest, twerking & shimmying her rump, resting her boobs on heads, letting them wrap an arm around her waist, etc – all the while blissfully unaware of her growing problem.

Her multiplying mammary glands strain to double her milk production, causing her taught, overtaxed breasts to swell still larger, forcing her huge nursing bra to expand to accommodate her growth. Pressurized and full, her nipples relieve themselves with a steady trickle of hot milk, further saturating the soaked material of her bra.

Her shirt, stretched and warped, begins to fray, tearing like tissue paper under the incredible burden of her expanding assets. Just as the fabric – brutally tortured far beyond its intended limit – begins to rip loudly in two, tiny nanomachines gracefully reshape the rupturing material into an elegant green satin dress, deeply cut to expose her phenomenal, incomparable cleavage for all to behold.

Her spinal column shudders under the ever-increasing burden of her billowing jugs. She grits her teeth.

They're... soo... heavy!!

The Mango Sisters stand close in line, their turn almost up.

Issy whispers to her sister, pointing with hushed awe at their distracted quarry.

– She looks like she's about to keel over...

– Yeah, I've got an idea...

As her mammary glands continue to ramp up milk production to meet the crowd's subconscious demand, the fatty tissue cells deep within her breasts continue to multiply. Her center of gravity shifts even further along into her massive, protruding bust, further thwarting her sense of balance. A merciless fatigue begins to overtake her.

Oww... my back!!

Are these things growing again??

She rubs her shoulders, arcing her spine and wincing in pain. Her breasts, hogging most of her body's bloodflow, deprive her brain of basic oxygen. Her neglected lungs gasp for air, but the endless parade of photo-op hungry bronies totally fail to notice her suffering. Mindlessly they pay, mindlessly they stare, mindlessly they pose.

Her body, rapidly being drained of its most vital resources, desperately in need of food & water, weakens drastically under her body's callous, unceasing demands for breast expansion & milk production. Her head spins, dizzy and half-conscious.

Even the simple act of breathing can't help but cause the generous adipose tissue in her copious chest to jiggle sympathetically with her every labored inhalation – triggering dense nests of overly-sensitive nerve-endings, inexorably spewing her pussy with incessant gobs of carnal lubrication, seeping viscously into her drenched panties.

Swooning amnesically, her interactions with customers become increasingly lewd, suggestive, & desperate as relentless pressure builds within her burgeoning milktanks and simmering quim, forcibly draining what little sense she had left in her increasingly vacuous skull, repurposing her withered brain to serve only sensual, animalistic ends. Ravenously hungry for cock, an empty, yearning, yonic void, she can't help but rub herself lubriciously all over each & every male body that comes within 2 meters of her perpetually-soaked pussy, again totally forgetting her absent boyfriend, the rational centers of her cerebral cortex having shut down entirely. Biting her lip, she jiggles & flaunts her overdeveloped mega-knockers like an experienced "specialty-interest" Vegas stripper.

Needless to say, this only increases her popularity.

Her boobs now hang like huge, full-grown twin watermelons from her small yet ludicrously voluptuous frame, quaking violently at the slightest motion, yanking harshly at her aching torso, still growing, bigger than a OO cup at this point, nearing a P cup. Sadistically, the tiny heels of her little ruby slippers begin to rise up in an ambitious, misguided attempt to complement her opulent new dress. Soon tall, gold, sparkling stillettos lift her luxuriant rear-end provocatively, making her already uncertain balance ever-increasingly precarious.

Issy & Essy stand next in line.

Essy steps up to her hated rival, feigning friendship.

– Hi! It's soo nice to finally meet you! You're looking absolutely fabulous today...!

Fluttershy's oblivious face replies with a vacant stare, her mouth hanging open dumbly as she mechanically fondles herself, eyeing the parade of cocks still waiting impatiently in line behind the scheming Mango Sisters, whom she totally fails to recognize. Her upper body jerks forward periodically as her breasts continue their cruel, incessant, ineluctable expansion.

Issy ducks down, crouching maliciously on all fours behind their ill-fated mark as Essy continues to force vapid chitchat.

– This summer has been lovely this year, hasn't it? Haven't you had a nice summer?

She winks at her sister.

– But you know... autumn's really coming on fast, don't you know...

Issy stifles a muffled guffaw.

Essy sighs knowingly, relishing the sweet taste of what's about to go down. She turns slightly as if preparing to depart.

– Anyhow, my sister and I really must be going now...

Without warning, Essy suddenly lunges forward, forcefully shoving her stunned target, who trips backwards gracelessly over Issy's crouched form, collapsing spectacularly onto the hard, waiting floor in total shock.

– Have a nice fall!!

When Big-Titty Fluttershy hits the ground, her implausibly bloated breasts ripple and flop voluminously from the sheer force of impact, nearly crushing her torso, flopping out of her dress entirely, smacking her in the face, splattering milk everywhere, her enormous, rigid apricot-sized nipples & dark dinner-plate areolae bared totally naked to the unforgiving air. She cries out in humiliation & agony, meekly sobbing on the ground, confused, lost, and miserable, while onlookers gasp & gawk, tittering with hushed awe of astonishment.

The Mango Sisters hi-five each other.

The crowd jeers angrily.

Several bystanders, in a race to take advantage of the circumstances, surge forward, cameraphones ready to snap rare photos & video of poor prone, topless Fluttershy's peerless baby-feeders. Others, who had failed to witness The Mango Sisters' vicious assault, gossip distastefully.

– Hahahaha!! Her tits're so big she can't even stand up!!

– Have you ever considered a reduction, ma'am?

– Is this part of a sketch or something? 10/10.

– Nice publicity stunt, ya attention-whorin' bitch!!

– Damn, that dress held out longer than I thought it would!

– Do you think she's ok?

– Oh please! She's hamming it up! She's loving this!

Fluttershy's boss rushes out, attempting to marshal control of the situation.

– Alright, alright, move back, move back, nothin' to see here! Everybody – show's over, nothing to see here! Alright, step back, get lost, you fucktards – get LOST I say!! This is my hole!!

Lending his hand to Fluttershy's crumpled form, he guides her exposed, elephantine lobes back into her low-cut dress – struggling to lift their matchless mass, even with both hands – and helps her slowly to her aching, high-heeled feet. She immediately falters, totally overbalanced by her own absurd assets and excessively top-heavy figure. Her PPP cup breasts are simply too gigantic for her to maintain equilibrium with while wearing high heels. Gently, carefully, her manager helps her take them off.

She leans on him heavily, wrapping a feeble arm about his strong upper body, groaning weakly, struggling to walk even on the uncovered soles of her black pantyhose-swaddled feet. Wincing, she clutches pitiably at her woefully thin, soggy attire and tender, burning chest.

– Oh noooo...! My big tiddies spilled milk all over my fancy new dress... they hurt...

She pouts, nuzzling her boyfriend (who still can't believe his luck) sensuously.

Suddenly remembering something, her frail hand snaps reflexively, searching instinctively for her purse... and her smartphone.

– I... I never got my phone back from that nice man... what will my f-fans think of me...?

Her tired, reddened eyes well up anew with fresh tears.

– It'll be alright, sweetie... I'll buy you a nice new phone tomorrow...

Both of her breasts are now easily twice the size of her head – or bigger – and still growing – dribbling thick, white milk at an alarming rate, marinating her lime-green outfit until her entire front is dark with rich, sticky moisture. Her breasts lurch intermittently with fierce, jarring, forceful lactation. Their great, backbreaking weight sways ponderously with each & every plodding, labored, arduous step, jouncing robustly like a pair of flabby, elliptical beachballs, doing their damnedest to yank the rest of her fragile form down to the floor and very nearly succeeding.

Sniffling, shaking from fatigue & fright, she wipes another tear from her eye with her free hand.

– I wanna go to bed, Daddy... take me to bed?

– Come on sweetie... let's get you back to the hotel... you can stay with me in my room...

His unsubtle cock threatens to burst from his jeans as they stagger awkwardly from the scene.

The Mango Sisters jump up on the table triumphantly.

– She's gone!! Your beloved lifesize walking-dakimakura fantasy is gone!!

The crowd boos.

– We're here now...!! We've got big titties too – you know, uh... realistically big titties!!

The crowd howls with hatred.

– You pathetic, ungrateful pieces of shit!! As if any of you fucking virgins has any right to be fucking picky!! Now, line up for your fucking photos!! It's us or nothing, you shit-eating swine – $15 a pic!!

And slowly, obediently, the reluctant crowd complies.

...

The Mango Sisters made a killing that night.