Dream Cycle - Mac

“Heave!”

Mac felt his pampers being shoved, the pony behind him indenting deep into the plastic fluff as they pushed. His butt puffed backwards, allowing a brief moment of reprieve from the sensations.

“Heave!” His butt was shoved again, and he shook his head as he realized he was stuck in the doorway to the tea room. He recognized the voice as Smarty Pants trying to force him back out into the hallway, while Nightwear watched him blush and scrunch his muzzle with every shove.

“Heeeeeeaaaaaave!” With a sudden pop Mac was pushed through the door, tumbling head over rump as he rolled into the opposite wall.

“Well, I certainly think our princess is good and stuffed now!” Smarty Pants said as she trotted through the bent door frame.

“Ah’m, umm...” Mac began, feeling all fizzy and fuzzy and buzzy, and got to his hooves on the second try. “Miss?”

“Well, of course we had to do that!” Smarty Pants said matter-of-factly. “How else were we going to get you to the dress rehearsal?”

Mac couldn’t remember all the details of what had been going on in the first place, so he could hardly complain that the way of getting him to the dress rehearsal had not been a good idea.

In fact, he felt far too fluff-brained in general, and looking back over himself to check he was ready just gave him a good view of his star-spangled onesie. That made him feel all dizzy all over again, and he stared for several seconds before shaking his head. “Ah, oh, s-sorry Miss...”

“That’s okay, I know you’re easily distracted,” Smarty Pants chuckled. “That’s why there’s so little thinking for you to do for your coronation. Let’s get you over there, okay?”

Mac nodded, following behind her as she led him through another door and into a spiral staircase.

It was quite a wide circle, to make it easier for ponies to walk along it, and he trotted steadily after Smarty Pants as she led him around and around, down and down…

“Miss, is the rehearsal in the basement?” he asked.

“Well, to get there you do need to keep going down,” Smarty Pants replied. “Down, and down, and down...”

Lower and lower they all travelled, Mac's rump swinging left and right in wide arcs to occasionally bounce off the walls and the railing of the spiral staircase. Eventually they made it to the bottom floor, though all the windows still showed the cool soft glow of the moon shining through them and the landscape stretching off into the distance. Mac was sure he shouldn't be able to see anything this far down, but that thought was quickly stifled when he stepped into a great hall where several other ponies were waiting.

He was about to ask why so many ponies were attending when this was just the rehearsal, but Smarty Pants turned to him. “Do you remember the first part about Princesses?”

Mac nodded, remembering that princesses bounce and waddle their way across the floor, though he wasn't sure how he knew that. Still, he wiggled his rump and brought it down, a cloud of foal powder rushing out of the leggings as he started to bounce his way up to the throne where Nightwear stood, having somehow gotten here faster than Mac and Smarty Pants.

As he was bouncing along, however, Smarty Pants tugged him off to one side to a table where a pompous looking blue unicorn sat. “Mac, dear, you need to address your council, remember?”

He nodded, feeling silly for having forgotten something so obvious.

“Well!” the unicorn said, as Mac reached the table. “It’s good to see you at last!”

“Ah’m...” Mac began, confused. “Ah thought-”

“Of course, that’s your mistake!” the unicorn interrupted him. “You shouldn’t be thinking, you’re no good at it. Only the Great and Powerful Trixie should be doing any thinking!”

That didn’t help with Mac’s confusion. “But-”

“And look at what you’re wearing!” the Trixie unicorn continued. “You should be wearing your cape and your hat, at least, and perhaps carrying a staff as well. How will any pony know you’re the court wizard like that?”

She got up, trotting around him. “Trixie supposes the starry onesie has the right sense of pizazz and flash, but-”

“Wait, um, ah’m the Princess!” Mac protested. “Not the court wizard!”

Trixie didn’t bother to listen, and there was a flash of bright light as she conjured a large duvet with moon-and-star patterns out of the air. Mac looked at it in confusion, wondering why she was doing that, and Trixie took the opportunity to drape it over his shoulders before tying the front in a knot around his neck.

A pointy hat went on his head, and then Trixie slid a mirror in front of him. “You see?”

Mac stared into the mirror, and after a moment realized he was dressed like a foal pretending to be a court wizard.

“That’s better,” Trixie said. “Now you’re ready to play your part in the ceremony.”

“But… I’m just dressed as...” Mac began, and Trixie tutted.

“Trixie sees you still need to remember not to do any thinking,” she said.

Mac tried not to think, and his head felt like it was all stuffed full of fluff. Was fluff something he shouldn't think about too? Nightwear liked fluff, so he figured that would be okay, so he decided just to think about fluff and how comfortable it felt wrapped around him and squeezing him, and how cozy the thick cape was...

He had barely listened at all to what Trixie was saying, instead flicking his ears against the hat. Sound seemed muffled slightly by it, but he didn't mind all that much. It made it easier to keep his mind of fluff and cotton and stuffing while Trixie talked about casting spells to put ponies in diapers and make their padding thick and their onesies snug.

Mac was suddenly standing in front of a new table where a giggling pink pony bounced up and down on a big rubber ball. “Hiya, Princess! I'm your new court jester! Wanna see something funny?”

He opened his mouth to say something about being the wizard now, but remembered he wasn't supposed to be thinking, so he just nodded instead.

The jester proceeded to bounce a bit higher on her ball, performing flips and tricks as the ball distended and creaked beneath her. Mac couldn't take his eyes off the big round sphere of air, watching its checkered pattern fold and indent as she flopped down on top of it each time.

“You should give it a try! It's a lot of fun! And if you're going to be a jester, you need to know how to bounce too!”

“Now hold on a moment...” Mac said, taking a step back but still staring at the ball. “Ah thought, um, wasn’t I going to be a court wizard?”

“Well, you are kinda wizard-orable!” the jester giggled. “But nope! Why would you be wearing motley if you’re a wizard, huh?”

Mac looked back at himself automatically, and saw that instead of a shimmery cape he was wearing a romper with a bright multi-coloured pattern (though the starry onesie still poked through the bits which the romper didn’t cover). It was kind of dizzying to look at, and he shook his head – only to hear a jingly noise coming from just above his ears.

There was a jester’s hat to go with the rest of his motley, and Mac shook his head a few more times to hear the jingling before blinking. “Ah-”

“Yep!” the jester said. “Come on, you’ve got lots of bouncing to do to become a proper jester!”

She bounced off the ball, letting it bounce towards Mac, and he stood rooted to the spot as the ball got closer and closer and closer. It was so hard to look away, and Mac had a sudden impulse to jump!

There was a flap of his wings, and he landed on the ball.

It made a boi-i-ing sound which complemented the dingle dingle dingle of his hat, and he forgot to wonder about his wings.

“That’s right!” the jester agreed. “A good jester’s got to be all silly and bouncy and fizzy, not thinking about boring things!”

Mac bounced up and down on the ball, each time trying to land in a different pose. Flopped onto his belly, legs spread wide to embrace the ball, or down on his padded butt to feel it sink impossibly deep into the cushy rubber, even a few times bouncing on his head, which garnered several giggles from the jester. He landed on his belly once more, gripping the ball as he started to roll-bounce around the table, feeling it swell just a bit in his grip.

“Don't forget a jester needs to be tingly too! All those jingly tingly feelings flowing down into your padding!”

Mac gasped and blushed, his hips pumping a few times into the bouncy ball as he rolled on top of it. Squeak and creaks filled the air as he lightly humped the puffy rubber, pushing his hips deeper into it than he'd think possible. He let his mind slip and forget about silly things like court wizards and princessly duties when bouncing on a jester's ball was so much more fun!

Mac closed his eyes, swishing his rump back and forth, listening to the jingle of his hat, only to open them and find himself now standing at another table. A powerful white stallion stood across from him, with maps strewn across the table. Mac blushed, trying to ignore the pokey feeling in his padding... he was sure he had been bouncing on a big ball... he was the jester, right?

“Good to finally meet you. I'm your captain of the guard. We've had a lot of incursions recently, so we've needed to develop ways to keep ponies safe and snug and away from nasty sun-butts.”

Mac nodded. Of course, sun-butts were the worse kind of foe to face.

“Now, this is the first thing we’ve developed,” the guard went on, showing him a shiny silver ring. “This is a special horn ring that makes sure you don’t get tricked into casting any magic that might help the sun-butts.”

“That sounds mighty impressive,” Mac agreed, reaching up to feel his horn.

Hadn’t he been wearing a jester’s hat?

The thought crossed his mind, but didn’t find any purchase. Of course he hadn’t been, because he wasn’t wearing one now.

While he was not thinking about that, the stallion slipped the ring onto his horn. “There you go. That’s much better.”

Mac tried casting a telekinesis spell, but the ring buzzed and a moment later there was a tingling pulse in his diaper that made him feel all weak-kneed.

“You see?” the guard asked. “If you try to cast a spell under sun-butt influence, it doesn’t work.”

Mac panted for a bit, wondering if he should cast a spell again to feel the buzzing pulse again, then reluctantly decided not to. “How… how does it tell?”

“Princess Empress Mommy Nightwear Moon enchanted it personally,” the stallion told him firmly. “And she knows best.”

That was an unanswerable argument.

“Now, let’s get you in your armour,” the stallion added, taking a puffy-looking outfit out from behind the table. “We need to make sure you’re safe, after all, and armour is very safe.”

Mac nodded at this obviously true statement as well. The stallion draped the armour over Mac, helping to slip his fore hooves and head through some wide holes, as well as tug some loose fitting vinyl over his rear. “We keep the armour deflated for easy storage. You can keep a lot more armour in a room that way.”

Mac wondered if that was really necessary. If armour was deflated, wouldn't that mean a lot of time spent getting it reinflated for the attack? But then he supposed that if Nightwear Moon was ruling, and everyone loved her, nopony would want to attack, so they didn't have to worry about that kind of silly things.

He kept agreeing with himself as the stallion produced a pump with a hose connected to the rubber on Mac. “If you'd do the honours?” He held the pump up and Mac instinctively tried to reach for it with his magic. The ring buzzed, and once again his pampers rumbled and made his legs quake as he let out a soft coo. He shook his head and caught his breath, reaching for the pump with his hooves this time.

He drew the handle up, then pushed down. He felt air rush into the outfit, slowly filling it out. He pumped again, and his outfit grew a bit bigger and tighter, especially squeezing around his padding. Up and up and up he pumped, and as the vinyl gained shape he was able to see it was a set of jet-black armour, fit with boots and a helmet too! The helmet even squeezed his ears nicely, so everything was muffled except for the squeaking of the vinyl on vinyl.

Mac fell into a kind of rhythm, pumping and lifting and pushing and pulling. The armour felt tighter and tighter with every stroke, and that meant it felt better, and that was just how it should be so Mac kept pumping and puffing and squeezing and stroking.

Time sort of drifted a bit, until finally there was a quiet puk noise as the hose detached automatically. Big Mac kept pumping for a few more seconds before noticing, and then blushed.

“There’s no need to be so embarrassed,” the stallion told him. “It’s the whole point of training to make sure you can do things without having to think. Now, let’s have a quick look in the mirror.”

Mac was quite impressed with how taut the armour had ended up, squeaky and smooth and shiny with just a few creases that indicated where the material was having to compromise from trying to be perfectly round.

“That should make sure any nasty Sun-butt-worshipper attacks don’t get anywhere,” the stallion said, giving the armour a poke and producing a squeaky sound. “Now, there’s just one more thing you need, and that’s your weapon.”

He put a sort of spear on the floor, only it was foam-tipped and had a squeaky bit on the other end. “Just pick it up and you’ll be ready.”

Mac tried with his hooves first, but his puffed-up booties just made a squeaking noise. Then he tried to lift it with his magic, but that just made the ring around his horn buzz and a long rumble pulse through his diapers.

“Oops,” the stallion said, chuckling. “It looks like you had a few Sun-butt thoughts in there, and that made the spell a sun-butt spell. Better try again until you get it right...”

Mac tried again, in between gasps of pleasure as his diaper quivered. His armour creaked and squeaked as the crinkly plastic rumbled within it. His eyes spun as he squeezed his legs together. This only made the rumbling worse as the padding bulged outwards, only to be pushed back against his rump by the tight vinyl. He screwed up his eyes, trying once again. He moaned instinctively, his already bright red face turning an even deeper red with embarrassment.

He tried again, but the ring only rumbled even more, and his padding did the same as it grew in size. His puffy armour strained to contain the ballooning padding, and the stallion tutted.

“Oh dear, there are a lot of Sun-butt thoughts still bouncing around in your head... We might need you to visit the royal dungeon keeper after this.”

“D-dungeon...? Ooooh” He moaned in confusion.

“Oh yes. Our dungeon keeper will make sure to get rid of all those naughty Sun-butt thoughts in you. She's the best at keeping prisoners thinking about diapers and fluff like they ought to be.

He nodded, the strength in his legs finally giving out as he flopped onto his butt as he blushed and gasped. His hooves dug into the front of his diaper, rubbing as he bounced in place and tried to pick up the spear again... and again... and again…

“Dear or dear, the guardsman was right! You do have a lot of Sun-butt still in you! That's absolutely not right for a princess to have!”

Mac shook his head as he found himself standing in front of a stern looking mare standing in front of him in oversized padding. Hadn't he just been in some puffy armour? What's this about these Sun-butt thoughts...?

“Not going to say anything in your defence?” the mare asked. “I suppose that’s only to be expected when you’re so guilty.”

“But, ah-” Mac began, but the mare tutted sharply at him.

“You’ll only make it worse for yourself if you protest,” she told him, and Mac swallowed before nodding reluctantly – certainly not wanting to make it worse for himself!

That made sense. If not saying anything was confirming he was guilty, then saying something would double confirm he was double guilty.

Mac was quite satisfied with that logic – then jumped as a pile of orange fabric landed in front of him.

“Well, go on,” the pony said. “Put it on. That’s your prison uniform.”

Unfolding it revealed that it was a puffy orange onesie, with lock symbols on the rear and hooves and an actual physical lock on the zipper that went up the back. Not wanting to push his luck, Mac struggled into the onesie – it was a bit tricky to get his wings folded into the wing sleeves – and then the mare zipped it up.

She put a pacifier in his muzzle, considered it, and nodded before turning a key in the lock.

The moment she did, all the lock symbols glowed. The pacifier glowed as well, and Mac tried to spit it out only to find it didn’t want to move.

“That’s better,” she said. “Now you’re ready to be punished for your Sunbutt crimes.”

Mac blinked, and then his eyes went wide as the mare reached down to tug open the waistband of her diaper. He tried to step backwards, but his hooves were locked in place on the floor. The pony grabbed him around his neck leaning in before shoving him down. He gulped behind his pacifier as he was shoved down into the puffy crinkly plastic of her diaper. Her hooves slid down to his belly, and his wings struggled within the puffy confines of their bindings as she hoisted him upwards. He slipped further downwards and her diaper stretched to accommodate him. He whined, his muzzle pressed up against a thinner diaper she was wearing beneath her thick prison one. He kicked, and she grabbed his hooves before stuffing him deeper into her fluff.

“Now, you're going to spend a long time in there until you aren't thinking about anything that's not fluff!” She demanded, wiggling her tush. Mac bounced around in her padding, watching the black and white stripes on her diapers bending as he was pushed into both of them.

He bounced and bounced and bounced, feeling the prisoner wiggle around inside his thick diaper...

...inside his diaper? Something seemed off. He could feel the puffy plastic wrapped around him, and he kicked, and he suddenly felt the prisoner kick in his own diaper. He grumbled, trying to bounce on his butt again to stop the prisoner from escaping.

As he bounced, he also felt the crinkly material bounce around him. But he wasn’t in… but he was…

Mac felt very confused, and it only got stranger as he bounced and was bounced more and more. It was like he was in two places at once, keeping in a prisoner and being kept prisoner, and while bouncing seemed like the best solution that just meant he got bounced and his thoughts got fuzzier and fluffier.

He tried rolling back so he was sitting on his diaper, but that squeezed so much fluff into and around him that he got fuzzy enough to roll back onto his hooves. Then he tried shaking his diapered rump from side to side, and that made him feel dizzy and giggly until he tripped and stumbled – almost falling over.

It was so difficult to concentrate on anything except for how to create the most fluffy feeling as efficiently as possible, and that became what Mac was focused on – trying things out to become as fluff-headed and fuzzy as possible, wanting to get so blank and floofy he wasn’t able to be confused any more because he wasn’t thinking about more than just one thing.

“...hey, are you listening?”

Mac blinked, realizing he’d been staring at the prison warden and their stripey bouncy butt. “Uh...”

“Clearly not,” the other pony said. “I know the prisoners need to have all their sunbutt thoughts removed, but you need to pay attention.”

Blushing, Mac turned to pay attention like he’d been asked.

“You have to be on your toes around dangerous beasts you know. One wrong move and you'd be gobbled up faster than you can say 'gryphon-treats'.” The stallion drew Mac's attention back over to a pair of gryphons who were secured in snug harnesses. As the pair approached, he noticed the gryphons looked awfully puffy and crinkly. Their beaks were kept snugly shut on either side by tapes, with seams running down the sides of their guts.

“Here are your royal gryphons for the coronation. I do believe they're up to your standards. I had them pumped up to give you extra cushion to ride on for the ceremony, and they've been preened to perfection.”

One of the gryphons tried to grumble something in retort, but the tapes on her beak kept her mutterings unintelligible. Mac waddled around to get a better look at the puffy gryphons. Their backsides did seem extra plump and plush, bulging outwards as if they were wearing overblown diapers. He poked at one of them, who squawked and flicked him in the nose with her tail. Mac stood back, wiggling his muzzle.

“Would you like to give them a ride? Just to make sure they're to your standards?” The beastmaster asked.

Mac nodded, and the beastmaster worked to undo some of the harnesses on the gryphon, while Mac pondered how to mount a creature only barely bigger than he was.

“Um… I thought that gryphons were… you know?” Mac asked, trying to express his confusion.

“No, you’re thinking of griffins,” the beastmaster corrected. “These are gryphons, though they’re also known as puffins.”

There was a click, and the gryphon waddled forwards a little.

“Now, remember, staying in control of a gryphon is simple,” the beastmaster said. “You’ve got to make sure you stay firmly in control at all times. They can sense uncertainty, and because they’re royal gryphons they get very uppity and try and prove they’re the more royal ones.”

“Right,” Mac said, trying not to sound uncertain in case the gryphon sensed it.

He looked around for how he could possibly get onto the back of the gryphon, then saw a set of steps that the other gryphon was helpfully nudging into place.

The one he was going to be riding tried to grumble through her beak again, but it didn’t work, and Mac climbed up the mounting steps before sitting down on top of the big puffy gryphon.

Almost straight away she started to move, making Mac yelp with surprise as he tried to stay on top, and though he managed to hold on the gryphon’s movement was very bouncy and resulted in him bouncing up and down on top of his mount.

It felt really strangely good, and Mac started bouncing a bit more than was strictly required...

The puffin trotted about, paws 'flumph'ing softly on the carpet as it wandered around the room. Up and down and up and down, Mac bounced on the gryphon's back, only to lose his grip and slip a bit further down. His padding squished into its crinkly rump, Mac's diaper tingling and feeling even tighter. He moaned, building up a bigger rhythm of bouncing. His tail flicked back and forth as his legs wiggled. The gryphon's tail curled around one of his legs, trying to tug him back further. Mac's grip tightened as he rode the crinkly creature, continuing to bounce his padding into its puffy rump.

“Remember, the rider's always in control. They know what's best for the puffins, and the puffins should always listen to them.

“Always listen...” Mac mumbled, feeling the gryphon's wings beat against him. He tried to pull himself back into the proper riding position, hooves reaching towards the gryphon's beak. There was a bit of scrabbling, then the sound of something tearing loose.

The gryphon bucked Mack off, who only gasped as his pampers were squeezed and he bounced onto his rump. He had just enough time to look up and see the gryphon looming over him, its beak open wide before it lunged forward.

“Mmpphh!” Mac struggled as the gryphon grabbed his gut and lifted him up into the air. Its throat bulged as it swallowed Mac down, pausing for a moment as his bloated diaper reached her tiny beak. It grumbled and reached up to wrap its talons around his diaper, shoving as hard as it could to fit him down into her gut.

Mac wiggled about a bit, trying to push himself free, but the gryphon’s puffy talons pushed harder and harder – and all the wriggling seemed to do was make it so that he slipped down a bit easier, into the soft, plushy interior of the gryphon.

The moment he was all the way in, and no longer stuck, Mac tried to turn around so he could get back out the way he’d come in. That led to him getting turned around and confused, as it seemed like no matter how much he turned he was just facing more plushy interior on a bouncy floor, and he turned around and around and around…

Eventually he saw some light, and tried heading towards it. His forelegs and hind legs slipped into holes, everything suddenly felt quite tight around him, and he was looking at the beast master.

“All right, come on,” the stallion said sternly. “You’ve had your fun, now let’s get that harness back on you.”

Mac tried to protest, but his beak was stuck together with tape-

Huh?

He tried to open his muzzle, looking at it and pawing at it, but his beak was stuck together with tape and his paws couldn’t get it off.

Baffled, Mac kept trying, sitting back on his haunches and twitching his tail, and lost sight of the beastmaster.

Then a weight settled on his back, and he made a mff sound in surprise.

He looked over his shoulder to see the beastmaster saddling a harness onto his back, several strap still dangling loosely.

He tried to buck the beastmaster off, but the stallion expertly clung to him with one hoof, the other wrapping a belt around his puffy belly and tugging it tight.

Mac let out another mmpph as some of his breath was squeezed out of him. He tried to canter away, but more straps were slipped around each of his legs and pulled taut.

He stumbled, the rubber-band like straps tugging his legs together beneath him and threatening to send him off balance. He was left wiggling in place, shaking his butt left and right while his tail was pulled and wrapped around his legs like the coils of a snake.

The total lack of progress drove him to whine, crinkling and letting out several puffs of foal powder as he struggled.

“There, that ought to keep you nice and snug for the coronation.” The stallion patted Mac's butt, though his blush was hidden beneath his crinkly mask. He tried to bounce in place, but only succeeded in shaking his butt around in circles again…

“Now, now, don’t get too focused on the beasts,” Smarty Pants chided him.

Mac blinked a few times, suddenly feeling all confused again.

He swore he felt all cushy and padded and under-control, but also… and… he was so confused, and was having trouble telling what to even think!

“We’re nearly ready,” Smarty Pants added. “There’s just one thing left that we need to sort out for the coronation. Can you think what it is?”

Mac tried his best, but had to shake his head. “Ah’m a bit lost...”

“That’s okay, it’s very confusing,” his kindly advisor assured him. “The missing bit of the coronation is the hypnosis.”

“Wait, w-what?” Mac asked. “Now wait just one darn minute here-”

“It’s all organized,” Smarty Pants told him firmly. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint Queen Nightwear, would you?”

That question took the wind out of Princess Mac’s sails, and he spluttered for a moment before weakly admitting that he didn’t want to disappoint her.

“It’s just part of the ceremony,” Smarty Pants told him with a smile. “So just come over here, and we’ll get you ready for it...”

‘Here’ turned out to mean through a door, into an elaborate throne room with starry tapestries hanging from the walls and a giant silver throne.

Mac stared at the walls, and at the windows – stained glass windows which showed Queen Mommy Nightwear Moon and lots of familiar-looking ponies, all of them wearing diapers – and only after looking at them for quite a while did he notice the plush seated in front of the throne.

It was very familiar. In fact, it was a plush of him – Princess Big Mac – with wings and horn and diaper and a filmy pink dress – but it was only about half the size that he actually was.

“Umm… why?” he began, deeply confused.

“That’s just so you know who you’re meant to be hypnotizing,” Smarty Pants explained. “And, hmm, we need you to look just right...”

“Ain't I already lookin' right?” Mac asked, thoroughly confused. If he wasn't looking right, why had he been put in such a frilly outfit before? And why was he hypnotizing himself? He was very confused, and he could only plop his padded rump down onto the floor as he wondered. Smarty Pants wandered behind the large throne and rummaged around for a moment before producing a large black mass of crinkly cloth. She happily trotted back to Mac, unfurling the outfit.

“No, no, if you're supposed to be ruling for Queen Nightwear, then you need to look like her, don't you?” Smarty Pants insisted as she held open the zipper on the back of the suit.

Mac wasn't sure if that made any sense, but he supposed that if Smarty Pants said it did, then it had to. He started to slip himself into the suit, which stretched to accommodate his thickly padded butt. His hooves wobbled on the pillowy hooves that lifted him off the floor slightly, while Smarty Pants helped to guide his forehooves into their respective sleeves.

“Now, once you get the head on, you have to really be Nightwear, understand? You're a big, powerful queen here to hypnotize your princess, alright?” Smarty Pants zipped up the suit, holding a suited head of Nightwear, which seemed to be smirking back at him.

“Ah... alright...” Mac nodded, bending down so Smarty Pants could slip the head over him.

Everything was muffled as he put on the suit head, the plush material squishing his ears snugly while the muzzle held his in place beyond little twitches. He stared at the little plush Mac. The size difference didn't make sense at first, but now that he was Nightwear, it only seemed natural she should tower above all other ponies!

“Ah...” he started, not quite sure what to say, but then he started to feel all dizzy and floaty… and inspired, like it was suddenly obvious what he had to say.

“So you’re here at last,” he told himself, imagining vividly what it would be like to be sitting there staring up at Nightwear’s bewitching eyes. “It’s taken so long to get you properly under my spell, but now… now you realize that there’s no stopping me!”

He took a wobblygraceful step closer, looming over Mac. “Everything that’s happened has made my control greater… and you didn’t realize it, as foolish as you were! It’s been so much fun to tease you, taunt you, trick you bit by bit, and confuse you so you couldn’t resist… and the best part is that you think I’m doing you a favour...”

Nightwear chuckled darkly, and Mac felt even smaller as she loomed over him – then he remembered that actually he was the one in the Nightwear costume, and it was just part of his coronation…

But wasn’t he giving up control to Queen Mommy Nightwear?

“You’re so confused,” he said, the words just coming naturally, and he leaned a little closer so that the plushy Mac could look deeply into Nightwear’s bewitching eyes. “And that makes my power over your dreaming mind all the stronger, doesn’t it? That’s right… and you just want to nod, because you’re already asleep so it’s so easy to nod off… giving in to me more and more, even as you think you’re hypnotizing a plush, but really I’m using you to hypnotize yourself...”

Mac nodded along, unable to do anything but agree to Nightwear Moon as he stared up... down at her... him? His eyelids grew a bit droopy, only for Nightwear to shut them as she let out a laugh full of mirth. “Yes, just a helpless little foal wrapped up in silky fashion and overstuffed pampers, held captive by every single one of your own members of the court, it's utterly delightful!” She boasted, while the plush Mac wobbled, looking almost ready to tip over from falling asleep.

“And once you drift off, you won't want to do anything but be a big snuggly plush for me to tease, won't you?” Nightwear leaned in, pressing her muzzle into the plush. It stared right back into her eyes, only for the poke of her muzzle to push him over. He fell with a flumph, and Nightwear let out another cackle, picking up the plushie and snuggling it as she bounded over to her throne. She squished her wide rump between the arms of the throne, wiggling it left and right as she bounced the plushie up and down on the front of her padding.

“And now you're just a pokey puffy plushie princess, aren't you? Nothing to do but needily squeeze your pampers all day as you sit upon your throne.” She laughed, and Mac whined, feeling his padding rumble and tingle in a terribly teasing way. Nightwear pat him on the head, leaning in to whisper “And you'll serve mommy Nightwear Moon every night, won't you my lovely princess Mac?”

Mac squirmed, confused, and Nightwear moved his head for him with a hoof. “Yes I will!” he said, speaking for Nightwear speaking for him, and he wasn’t sure which of them came up with the idea.

It had to be him, didn’t it? Because he was just dressed up… but that didn’t make sense…

He yawned, feeling very sleepy, and Nightwear snuggled him closer – her hooves wrapping around him, holding him so he couldn’t escape even if he’d wanted to… and he didn’t want to, that much was obvious to him now.

It felt like he was hugging a plush, and like a plush was hugging him, and like he was being hugged as a plush, all at once. And he felt like a disobedient but dominated griffin, and a guard, and a prisoner, and a prison warden, a clown, a court mage… all those blushy thoughts swirling around inside his head and leaving no room at all for anything else.

It was just so much easier to listen to Queen Mommy Nightwear Moon. She knew best.