The Chapter About A Princess
Princess Big Macintosh trotted to the window, and looked out over Appleville.
It wasn't quite nine o'clock in the morning yet, and he could see fillies and colts rushing to make it to the schoolhouse on time. Last night's rainclouds were being ushered away by a flight of pegasi, sent over towards the orchards to be wrung out for what was left, and the morning sun shone steadily down on the happy, bustling town just outside his palace.
The sight made Princess Mac's heart sing, proud as he was of the job he'd done in running Appleville just right, and he nodded to himself. His wings spread, and he took a deep, cleansing breath before pausing – trying to come up with the right words to express the poetry in his soul.
“Eeyup,” he decided upon. “Mighty fine town.”
“Princess?” his advisor Smarty Pants called, from outside the door of his suite. “Does that mean you're awake?”
“Yup,” he called, turning from the window. His horn lit for a moment as he pulled the door open, letting Smarty Pants know she could come in any time, and his good friend took the invitation.
“It's a good thing you're awake at last,” Smarty Pants said. “There's a lot to do today, you know.”
“Ah know being a Princess ain't all swanning around in dresses, don't you worry,” Princess Mac reassured her.
“Well, swanning around in dresses is some of what's going to be done today,” Smarty Pants told him. “Let's see… I think there's a coronation ceremony, and then a royal visit as well. It's going to be very busy, your Highness.”
“Busy ain't a problem,” Mac said firmly. “Let's get 'er done.”
Mac trotted over to his closet as Smarty Pants followed suit. He opened the double-doors, only to pull out nothing but a thin nightgown. “Oh dear, it's wash day, isn't it?” He asked. Smarty Pants nodded, looking equally concerned.
“Our staff is taking the day off too. You might need to be the one to do the wash today, miss Mac!” Smarty Pants picked up the hamper and handed it over to Mac. Part of him wanted to speak up, wondering why the staff would be taking a day off when there was a coronation being held, but Smarty Pants was already pushing him towards the hallway. “You hurry down to the laundry room, it's just down the hallway, left, left, right, downstairs, left, upstairs, right, right...” Smarty Pants continued to list off twists and turns as Mac stumbled over his own hooves somewhat. Before he could speak up, she shut the door in his face, leaving him to give a small sigh and start to make his way through the castle.
He did his best to rush, but in a princessly fashion. He couldn't let anypony know he was in a rush, after all. He tried to think back to Smarty Pant's instructions as he wandered through the halls. He was sure there must be a faster route through the castle, but he trusted his adviser. Still, it felt like he was going around and around in circles as he wended his way through halls as the early morning sun shone through the stained glass.
Some of the stained glass windows were, admittedly, quite pretty, and Mac found it hard to resist stopping for a look at some of them. The one which showed him having a diplomatic meeting with a tribe of Hippogriffs was nice and pleasant, and the one where a unicorn was doing a magic show looked fun as well.
There was one that was just a night-sky art, though, and that was a bit strange. Princess Mac looked at it for what felt like just a moment, but which might have been several minutes before he finally shook his head and kept going.
Fortunately, it wasn't all that much further to reach the laundry room. At first it looked empty of ponies, but Mac noticed a guard pegasus washing half-a-dozen frilly outfits in the corner.
It wasn't any of his business, and when the guard bowed to him he just shrugged his wings and told the pony to keep on keeping on. That dealt with, he found one of the washing machines and set the hamper down next to it.
Opening the hamper with a flicker of magic, Princess Mac frowned at the mix of clothes.
He couldn't just throw them all in the same wash, could he? It looked like the machine was big enough, sure enough, but silks and cottons needed to be treated totally differently. And that was before even getting into cashmere wool and other such types of clothing, and whether colours would run in the wash!
Checking the washing machine, though, Mac noticed that one of the settings on the dial was 'Magic Princess Wash', for all clothes and other fabrics. That sounded about right, so he twisted the dial to that and started loading it up.
He was surprised by just how much fabric needed to be stuffed into the machine. He didn't think he had worn this much over just a week... maybe it had been longer? He certainly had enough clothes to last a while if the amount he was stuffing in was anything to go by. He even heard the muffled clang of some regalia falling into the washing machine as well. Pausing, he wondered if he should try to fish out the metal, but figured that the label did say it was for all clothes for magic princesses, so he shrugged and tossed the now empty hamper aside. His horn lit up as he levitated over a bottle of detergent. “20% more bubbles!” The label boasted. Mac wasn't entirely sure why bubbles would be particularly necessary for washing clothes, but if it had 20% more of them, it had to be better.
He poured the soap over the pile of clothes, only now really noticing just how high above the lid it sat. His horn lit up as he tried to push the clothes in deeper, but even his magic wasn't enough to squeeze it all in place. Now that he had poured the soap all over, trying to move it all would just leave a mess on the floor, so he flapped up into the air to land on the pile of fabric. He sank in a bit more than he expected, but he didn't think much on it as he started to jump up and down.
His hooves squished into the fabric, the soap starting to froth and bubble beneath him. Mac bounced higher, and the bubbles grew bigger as everything squished and sloshed around. Up and down and up and down, he was slowly managing to squeeze the clothes into the machine, until he suddenly felt the ground fall out from beneath him and his heart jump into his throat. All the clothes became unstuck and slid easily into the machine, and before Mac could react he fell in after them as the lid slammed shut.
The machine started automatically, and Mac tried to reach out with his magic to try and stop it – or maybe use his wings to fly out somehow?
Neither of those ideas worked, and nor did kicking out to use his alicorn strength. There was so much fabric – and so many bubbles, too – that the force got cushioned, and there was a loud sloshing sound.
Before he'd had time to do more than that, though, the paddles were starting to turn. It wasn't completely full of water, so there was easily enough space for him to breathe, but the movement around and around quickly started to make him dizzy.
The guard pony's head appeared through the gap, and Princess Mac tried to tell him to hit the off button or the stop button or open the machine or something. It would mean a lot of mess all over the floor, sure, but it was a bit past that now as far as Mac was concerned.
There was a nod from the pegasus, but then he flew off instead of hitting a button. Mac wondered what the guard could possibly have thought he meant, but the sloshing and the spinning around and the clothes everywhere made it a bit hard for Mac to tell what he'd meant and he'd been the one saying it.
It was really hard to focus as he kept going around and around, faster and faster… soapy, bubbly water sloshing everywhere, and colourful clothes of all kinds swirling around him...
Big Mac's eyes spun as bubbles frothed around him, their smooth surfaces refracting the light into pretty rainbows that danced in the air. Despite his earlier struggling, Mac found these swirls of colors rather enticing. He was a princess, after all, and what was more princessly than a rainbow? Pretty puffy pink, he supposed, but there was certainly plenty of that in the mix of silky fabric he was spun around in. Occasionally he would be tossed especially hard in a certain direction as his hooves snagged on a tangle of clothes, and he felt like he was slowly falling deeper and deeper into their grasp. Now the bubbles were large enough to rival his own head, pressing tightly into him as he tried to push them away halfheartedly.
He thought he heard some muffled speech from outside, but it was easily drowned out by the sloshing, squishing, and popping of bubbles around him that he didn't bother to pay it any mind. He wasn't sure how long he had been in the washer until there was a small 'ding' as everything came to a stop. He shook his head, trying to regain his senses as magic suddenly surrounded him. He, along with all the clothes, were being hoisted up out of the machine.
“He's looking awfully soggy. You better stick him in the dryer, just to be sure,” a voice that sounded quite a bit like Smarty Pants said. Mac wasn't quite able to place the voice as he was suddenly squished into another cramped space. He had just enough time to see Smarty Pants through the warped glass of the front door before everything started to spin again, growing soporifically warm.
At first he was still soggy and bubbly, and so were all the clothes, but the warmth and the air rushing through the dryer started to draw it away. Mac tried to get his bearings, but even with the rainbow-patterned bubbles all gone the swirling of the clothes was still enough to keep him dizzy and confused and all kinds of mixed-up.
The speed of the dryer seemed to keep changing. Sometimes it was so fast that he went right around the loop stuck to the wall the whole time, and sometimes it went slowly enough that he would drop off halfway up the side or even just roll over and over getting tangled up in the pink bolts of cloth all around him like a burrito.
Then the dryer would slow down and tumble in a different direction entirely. It would roll Mac over the other way, so he couldn’t even get used to which way he was going.
It left him feeling dizzy, but not queasy at all. That might have been strange, but with the warm dry air surrounding him, and the soft cloth tangling him up like a nest of blankets, it was just so hard to concentrate – and easy to yawn, and drift off…
“...now, now,” a voice told him. “I know I’m the ruler of sleep, but it’s not very polite to be asleep when I arrive...”
Mac yawned, blinking a few times, and rubbed his eyes. That helped him wake up a little, and he looked up at Smarty Pants leaning over him.
And, smirking down at them both…
“Ah!” Princess Mac gasped, and tried to jump to his hooves. He was all tangled up in sheets, though, and just wiggled around a bit. “Princess Empress Mommy Nightwear Moon! Ah didn’t know you’d got here!”
“Please, just call me Nightwear, or Mommy Moon,” the bigger alicorn chuckled.
Mac struggled for a few more moments before finally managing to dislodge himself from the mass of cotton... but even as he did, he still felt oddly soft all around. “Y-yes, Nightwear,” he said as Smarty Pants helped him to his hooves. Her own hooves sank into him just a bit more than he would have expected. Which is to say, he was surprised they sank into him at all. He looked down at himself, expecting to see a few more blankets still wrapped around him, but instead, he was simply met with his favorite ruffled dress sitting over his stitched legs-
Stitched?
He shifted on his hooves, listening to his thick diaper crinkle-
Diaper?
“Ah'm s-sorry Nightwear, you might have caught me at a bad time...” Mac said, looking over his newly plush, cuddly, slightly pudgy form.
“Oh? And why is that?” Nightwear asked while still smiling smugly. “Surely you're not saying you aren't prepared for your pampered plush princess coronation?”
Mac suddenly remembered why he and Smarty Pants had been rushing around this morning to get his dress ready. “Mah coronation! No, no, Ah'm ready, Nightwear!” He said, trying to reassure her even as he tried to recall everything else that needed to be done.
“Wonderful. Then I suppose you wouldn't mind me helping with the dress rehearsal, would you? I need to make sure all of my princesses meet my standards when it comes to fluff and puff, after all.”
Mac wobbled on his hooves a little nervously, but before he could interject Smarty Pants spoke up,
“Of course, Nightwear! Your input is the most important of anyone's!”
Nightwear chuckled, clearly enjoying the flattery. “Then let's start with our princess. She's hardly plump enough, look at how flat her tummy is! We'll need to fill her with fluff if she's to be properly snuggable.”
Mac looked down at his belly, feeling a little disappointed that he wasn't a cuddly enough plush yet.
“Of course, that’s easy to do,” Nightwear went on. “All you need to do to get a properly plushy toy all plump is to give them fluff to eat, but you need to make sure it’s all princess-y or it’ll ruin the effect we’re going for.”
“Ah, Nightwear, ma’am?” Princess Mac began, raising a hoof. “Ah’m kind of… confused about all this, right enough.”
“Confused?” Nightwear repeated.
“Come on, Princess,” Smarty Pants asked. “Surely you remember what’s going on?”
“Well… ah,” Mac said, trying to express his reservations. “Ah don’t remember why I’m all plush? I thought I was a normal pony...”
“Of course you’re not a normal pony,” Smarty Pants told him. “You’re a Princess pony, aren’t you?”
Mac nodded. That was obvious – he had nice big wings (even if they were a bit plushy at the moment, with the divisions between the feathers stitched on instead of actually being feathers) and a fluted horn on his forehead (even though when he reached up to feel it it was a little bit squishy).
“And since you’re a Princess pony, you’re not a normal pony,” Smarty Pants went on. “Doesn’t that make sense?”
It did, so Mac nodded again.
“So that’s why you’re a plush pony,” his advisor concluded. “You’re not a normal pony, and being plush isn’t normal, so there you go.”
Mac frowned, sure there was something wrong about that.
“Very well explained,” Nightwear told Smarty Pants. “But it’s okay if Princess Mac is a bit confused. Silly fluff-head plushy ponies are always a bit confused, but they know who to listen to.”
At her words, Mac calmed down a bit.
It still sounded confusing, but apparently that was okay.
“And here’s the first fluff to fill up with,” Nightwear added, floating over a plate of marshmallows – some of them white, others a delicate yellow or pastel pink.
Smarty Pants took one from the plate with one hoof and got a hold of Mac’s neck with the other, gently guiding the pink marshmallow into Mac’s mouth.
It tasted… odd, was the first thing Mac thought. It was definitely made of fluff, but at the same time it was all sweet and more-ish.
Mac chewed on the marshmallow, feeling it squish and smush in his mouth, but not quite breaking down like he would expect a marshmallow ought to. He shrugged, figuring it was just because he was a plush pony, and plush teeth were awfully soft too. Swallowing the marshmallow, he picked up another, chewed, and swallowed. And another. And another. And another.
He was starting to take a few marshmallows at a time. Then a mouthful. He expected Smarty Pants to say something about how it wasn't very princess-like to have a mouth stuffed full of puff, but she didn't object, so he figured it must be fine to continue.
As he swallowed another mouthful, he could feel his belly bulging outwards slowly. The extra fluff was weighing him down ever so slightly, and as he poked a hoof into his belly, it certainly was feeling like it would be better served for somepony to snuggle.
Once he finished off his plate of marshmallows, he was greeted with a plate of large macaroons. He greedily grabbed at the cookies, stuffing them into himself. His legs were spread by his growing pudge, and he eventually fell onto his but with a flumph. The waistband of his padding was stretched more and more as his belly grew outwards and upwards.
Smarty Pants wandered over, poking at his puffy diaper as he rocked back and forth slowly. “Hmmm, I think we'll need a bit more fluff for your rump after this.” She said.
Mac nodded, reaching toward the plate, only to find he had already run out of macaroons. His vision was quickly filled with even more fluff, however, and he was forced to bite down to see what was being presented before him. A basket of pillows was now sitting in his lap, with one already half-way into his mouth. He chewed, feeling how the fluff filled his mouth, and giggled as he imagined it filling his belly. He stuffed it in, his cheeks, throat, and then belly bulging as he swallowed it with a powerful gulp!
He wrapped his hooves around the basket, burying his head into the pillows as he started to much on another. The feeling of the fluff filling his mouth, and his belly, was getting him... stuffy. He wasn't sure if that was the right word, but his padding was feeling a bit tighter not just from his expanding belly. He pushed it into the pillows as he ate, growing slowly fatter and fatter and fuller of fluff.
All too soon – or was it eventually? - the piles of fluff and stuff came to an end.
Mac felt full, and fluffy, but he also felt… tight. Like there was something building up, some kind of energy or desire that he needed to satisfy, but it was oddly hard to think about what.
There was one pillow left, and Mac thought for a moment about eating it as well – but that didn’t sound as nice as keeping it, holding it so that he was sitting on one end of it and pulling the other end up towards his muzzle.
Smarty Pants said something about him feeling all soft and hard at the same time, which sounded kind of funny… though it made Mac blush, as well.
“Yes, that kind of feeling is quite common,” Nightwear said, her voice like dark velvet. “Feeling a little light-headed, a little fluff-headed, a little dizzy… and a little needy, as well.”
“Uhm...” Mac began, blushing. “Are you sure...”
“That’s not something a Princess needs to worry about,” Smarty Pants assured him. “A Princess like you can just listen to the Queen. She knows better than you, after all.”
“And it’s so hard to think, when you’re so soft,” Nightwear agreed. “Your thoughts all soft, so you can’t keep hold of them… and anything hard going straight down to your diaper, because it feels so good like that.”
“Y-yeah,” Mac agreed, shifting a little and pulling the pillow up again.
It felt good to rub like that.
“Sinking down into the softness,” Nightwear said. “Listening to anypony who knows better. Like your Queen… or your assistant.”
It made sense that Smarty Pants would know better. She was smart, after all.
“Sinking down… and feeling soft and hard,” Mommy Nightwear continued. “Ready to learn just how to be a good Princess for your coronation...”
Mac wanted to be a good Princess.
“To be a good princess you must be properly pudgy,” Nightwear said as she walked around Big Mac. He nodded slowly, poking his plush belly to feel how much pudge was now stuffed full of it. Nightwear wrapped her hooves around his shoulders, tilting him back and forth atop his puffily padded rear.
“Properly pudgy...” Mac repeated.
“And pamps full of plush,” Smarty Pants added on, wandering up to the front of Mac as he tugged up on the pillow again. She leaned in to inspect his padding, giving it a few pokes. Mac gasped, tugging on the pillow as he pushed his diaper into it again.
“Pamps full of plush...” Mac nodded. His horn glowed of its own accord, and with every tug and push of his diaper into his pillow, it started to sink a bit deeper into the material. He whined, clutching at the pillow as he tried to tug it closer, but it only sank in more and more. His diaper ballooned outwards as it swallowed the pillow, spreading his legs as he leaned back into Nightwear, only to fall back and land with a flumph onto her own diaper. She grinned down at him as his hooves dug into the front of his swelling diaper, Smarty Pants continuing to poke and prod at it to make sure it was the right size for a princess as big as he was.
“You won't even need to waddle around at your coronation. You'll be so swaddled in fluff, you won't have to do a thing but focus on being plush and puffy and a cuddly toy for your queen and your assistant.” Nightwear's eyes seemed to swirl, and Mac tilted his head listening to the crinkle of her rump against his ears.
“M-my assistant?”
“That's what a plush princess does. They have to be a big cushy toy, so naturally their assistant is the one taking care of everything, aren't they?”
That sounded kind of funny, to Mac, but it was such a good point and he felt so good when he listened to it. “Y-yeah...”
That admission made Nightwear smirk, or smile, and Smarty Pants poked a bit harder this time.
“That’s right,” Nightwear told him. “You just listen to your assistant, and do whatever she says… she’s the one who’s paying attention, after all. Any Princess knows that.”
“I, ah…?” Mac began, frowning. “Ah thought...”
“That’s your mistake,” Smarty Pants told him brightly. “Thinking is one of those things that’s just confusing you. Don’t think about anything.”
Mac still wasn’t sure, but then he felt how stuffed his diaper was and how firm the plush inside it was packed. He shifted so he could rub it, and when Nightwear whispered the same thing into his ears it slipped in without him really thinking about it.
He did feel all fuzzy, puffy, plushy… so it was just right to nod…
“Nodding because you feel sleepy,” Nightwear added. “Sinking deeper, feeling soft and hard… finding it so hard to think...”
Mac couldn’t even concentrate enough to say whether there was a problem with that idea, feeling fuzzier and more empty-headed with every nod – yawning and nodding, feeling sleepy and compliant.
It made so much sense that Smarty Pants was the smart one, now he wasn’t thinking too much about it. She knew so much, after all…
“...need to choose how to dress you up,” Smarty Pants said.
Mac blinked a few times, feeling even fuzzier than before, then looked down at the thick pile of plush pillows he was resting on.
It felt really good to rest his weight on them… and to rub, too, so he almost missed what Smarty Pants said next.
“A sailor?” Smarty Pants suggested. Nightwear pulled a white sailor outfit out of the closet with her magic, levitating it up to where Mac was relaxing into his pillows. Smarty Pants looked for a moment, thinking before shaking her head. “No, no, it's not princessly enough.”
“Perhaps a simple palette swap will help?” Nightwear asked. With a flash, Mac saw the outfit... remain the same. He blinked, shifting on his pillowy throne before catching his reflection in a nearby mirror. He was no longer his usual soft red but a vibrant pink, with matching almost-neon red pampers. Smarty Pants giggled while Mac blushed deep enough to match his new diapers.
“Oooh, perhaps he should match his great new queen?” She suggested. Another flash of light and Mac was now a jet black just like Nightwear, with his diaper resembling a large plush moon wrapped around his flanks. He even spotted a little set of bars in the pattern, a Luna print sat behind them with her hooves wrapped around the bars.
“A bit too on the nose, I think. The coronation is for celebrating Mac's new puffy padded princess posterior, after all. The moon menagerie will be later this year.” He returned to his usual self, and Mac shook his head. All the swirls of colors in the mirrors were making him dizzy, and he wanted to just sink deeper into his pillow throne to not have to think about them so much.
Smarty Pants and Nightwear suggested a few other outfits. Resembling his sister in a set of snug overalls tugged over his diaper that make him squirm and feel so much harder than softer, a swimsuit resembling the tricolors of a beachball, a frilly frufru dress that felt just a bit restrictive, which straps holding his hooves in place as he suckled on a pacifier.
“Ah, I have just the thing!” Smarty Pants suddenly said. She dug around in the closet before emerging with a onesie patterned with so many stars it made Mac's eyes lose focus just looking at them.
“That looks ideal,” Nightwear declared. “After all, a Princess is less important than a Queen, and this Princess is meant to be commanded by me, and I am the Queen of the night.”
Mac was distinctly confused by the whole argument, but it sort of slowly began to make sense as he let it drift around in his mind a bit more.
So Nightwear was in charge of the night, and dreams… and he kept feeling sleepy and dizzy and day-dream-y. And the onesie had stars all over it, and she was in charge of the night sky, and she was in charge of him, so when he put that onesie on it was just representing how she was in charge of him.
Smarty Pants picked him up easily, shifting him so that she could start putting his legs in the onesie one at a time, and Mac shifted a little – partly because he felt a bit uncomfortable being ponyhandled like that, and partly just because of how good it felt to get any friction on his plush-puffed diaper at all.
“Fluff-headed toys don’t fuss,” Smarty Pants chided him. “They get posed. Just relax and feel sleepy.”
Max did as he was told, relaxing, and he did feel sleepy. That got him a quick rub on his diaper as a reward, making him feel all stiff with pleasure and nervelessly limp at the same time, and it was just easy to luxuriate in the feelings and let the smarter Smarty Pants pose him to put him in his starry onesie.
It looked sort of like the stars spelled out something, but he couldn’t make it out.
Or read?
Princess Mac wasn’t sure if he was a reading sort of princess or not.
Smarty Pants had to tug a few times to squeeze the onesie around Mac's bulging diaper, which garnered several muffled moans from him as Nightwear stuffed a throw pillow in his face for him to chew on. Even with how pudgy his belly had become, it was nothing to the curve of his diaper, so once the onesie had slipped past the waistband it slid smoothly to hug the rest of him. He was pushed gently down to the floor as Smarty Pants pulled the zipper up to seal him in the snug sparkling suit. He lay there obediently, letting Smarty Pants grab his tail to hoist his rump up into the air. He stood on his hind hooves, forehooves still stretching out ahead of him.
Even as he was posed, he couldn't help but swish his butt left and right, staring at the pile of pillows in front of him. Smarty Pants giggled, poking the words on his diaper. “Heehee, it looks like the poor Moonbutt's begging for more pillows!”
Nightwear used her magic to push him by his rump closer. Mac wiggled his forehooves reaching out for the plump cotton before him, grabbing at one and tugging it free. A cascade of pillows fell on top of him as he was lost in fluff again.
“Good moonbutts love their onesie. They're never without it, except to get a thicker diaper...” Smarty Pants' voice echoed through the pillows.
Mac was a good moonbutt, and he showed it off by pressing his star patterned rump into the pillow to push against it. He was sinking again, loving the sensations of fluff squeezing in from all around, Smarty's voice echoing all through his ears...
“I'm a cushy puffbutt! Goodneess, it's only four words, how are you having such a hard time memorizing your coronation speeches?”
Mac blinked, now sitting on an overstuffed couch, the arms hugging him snugly as he looked down at the script in front of him.
“Nightwear, I don't know how we're going to get him ready to say everything he needs to know!”
“Let’s try again,” Nightwear said. “Maybe a different one will work better?”
She put a new script in front of the fuzzy-headed Princess and trotted back a step, looking expectantly at him. “Well?”
Mac looked down at the new script, and tried as hard as he could to concentrate.
That wasn’t very hard, though. He felt all woozy, fuzzy… the kind of woozy you got when you’d just started to slowly slide awake and started to sink right back down to sleep again instead of going the rest of the way… and there were also all those distractions, as well. The continual dizzying, distracting stiffness in his diaper, the soft environment around him… those glittering stars on his onesie… Nightwear’s eyes…
The letters seemed to swim on the page, not settling down to turn into words, and after a long minute Smarty Pants tutted.
“You see?” she asked. “How are we going to handle this?”
“Hmm, that is a problem,” Nightwear admitted. “But not much of one.”
She smirked, eyes glittering, and Mac heard her voice as if it was coming from a long way away.
“It’s hard to teach a toy anything, but if you want a plushy toy to say something you just need to add a pullstring. What are those speeches again?”
Smarty Pants read them out, but Mac just couldn’t focus on them. It felt so much easier to squirm about a bit, feeling the soft pleasure from his diaper, and listen as Nightwear explained how he’d end up saying one of those speeches whenever his string was pulled.
He leaned back into his chair, the voices seeming to grow even more muffled as his head relaxed into the overly puffy backrest. It was so much easier to just enjoy this fluff, not think about a thing. He was sure that being a princess was just a bout the best thing he could be. If it wasn't for the tingling ache in his padding, but even that was fun to squish and press down on.
He was suddenly pulled out of his stupor when he felt something reach down behind his back and pull. There was a very odd sensation, like someone was tickling his back, but when he heard the whir of the string and the tickling, he remember to say,
“Mah pamps are the puffiest!”
There was another tug,
“Nightwear knows best~”
Another tug,
“Needy plushies need pillows to hump, and Ah'm a needy plushie!”
He blushed at the last line, squirming in his chair as he felt his padding grow tighter. He tried to cover his eyes with his hooves, but there was another tug,
“Princess Mac loves diaper squishes!”
“Oh, is that so? I'm happy to oblige then,” Nightwear pressed a hoof into his diaper to give him a few rewarding pats and squishes, making him moan softly as he bit his lip. “Good plushies know their lines, and they always say them whenever their string is pulled.” She said.
Mac nodded, trying to reach his string.
“Ah ah ah, plushies don't pull their own string! Their assistants do that, because their assistants tell them what they need to say!”
Mac nodded again, relaxing into the chair as Smarty Pants patted him on the head. “He's a wonderful plushie toy, isn't he? Though we still need to make sure he knows how to act!”
How to act?
“Don’t worry about it,” Nightwear advised him, eyes glittering. “I’m sure it’ll just make so much sense to him when we do the dress rehearsal.”
A wink, and the sudden loss of the glowing eye for a moment made Mac’s head spin.
“Well, not an actual dress,” Nightwear added. “That would make it so nopony could see his starry onesie.”
Mac looked back automatically at his onesie, and the stars on it seemed to move in a shimmering, distracting pattern that made him feel all fuzzy.
“Just relax,” Smarty Pants advised, picking him up…
...and Mac was standing right next to a round table with four seats, three of them filled with large plush toys. One of them looked like a puffy pudgy white alicorn, whose name he couldn’t remember – if it was a real alicorn at all, he couldn’t even remember that – and another was a plump blue dragon, while the third seat was taken up by a brightly coloured changeling plush.
“Oh, look!” Smarty Pants said, moving the changeling plush back and forth with a hoof. “Is that Princess Big Mac?”
“I think it is,” Nightwear said, using her magic to make the white alicorn toy move. “I’m a silly sun-loving fluffbutt but even I know that!”
“I don’t know,” Smarty made the dragon say. “I heard Princess Big Mac can do a lovely sissy curtsey.”
Mac nervously stood up, his hind legs spread quite wide by his fluffy padding. He was about to use his magic when he thought a curtsy wasn't really a curtsy if you weren't standing on two hooves, now, was it? Especially for the dragon. He didn't think about how silly it would look for the changeling or alicorn to stand on his hind hooves, but that didn't bother him as he carefully wobbled up onto them.
His forehooves shook a little as he tried to maintain his balance. He reached down, wondering where exactly he was supposed to grab when is onesie didn't have a skirt. He decided to just pretend. Princesses were good with their imaginations, after all, and grabbed at the hips of his onesie.
One hind hoof tucked behind the other expertly as he bowed, stretching out the waistband of his diaper and onesie as if it was a skirt.
He stood tall once again, each plush pony (and dragon) giving him a round of cottony applause.
“Princess Big Mac sure is everything he's talked up to be!” the alicorn said to the dragon, who nodded in agreement.
“A true princess knows how to daintily sip tea too, though!” The changeling chimed in. “No matter how tempting it might be to soak their padding with it!”
The thought hadn't occurred to Big Mac, but once he heard that, it just seemed obvious. Sticking the spout of the pot to pour the warm water into his padding was a perfectly natural thing to do! It would make him squishy and bloated... and weren't princesses supposed to do that?
He tried to focus on carefully pouring the water into each of the cups presented by the plushies, but he couldn't help but imagine his own diaper in place of the cup greedily guzzling up the water and bloating up warm and squishy.
Despite all the blush-inducing thoughts, he managed to pour out the water into the cups without actually spilling any of it.
He picked up his cup in his hooves, then in his horn, and was about to take a pretend sip when suddenly his grip slipped – sending all the warm water splashing down inside the waistband of his padding.
“Oops!” the alicorn said. “I do that sometimes, because I’m a clumsy fluffbutt!”
“Does that mean Princess Big Mac is a clumsy fluffbutt?” the changeling asked, giggling a little.
“Ah’m not clumsy,” Mac protested, flushing, and poured himself out another cup. He picked it up, but then down it went again, joining the contents of the first cup in his diaper.
It just became so hard to focus… as soon as he had a cup of warm water to drink, it slipped out of his hooves or his magic and went into the padding.
Mac soon lost count of how many times he’d refilled his cup only to lose it down into his diaper, and worse was that every time he did it… it felt warm and squishy and right, even with the giggles of the spectators.
The routine of filling his cup, then lifting it up, then spilling it into his diaper blurred together, repetitive motions that Mac didn’t need to think to perform…
...and then he blinked, looking down in surprise.
The nozzle of the teapot was poked squarely into his diaper, sloshing water out and sogging him up… when had he done that?
He was going to tug it free, when the dragon caught his attention again, “And, of course, a princess must be good at sewing teacakes.”
“Isn't that serving teacakes?” Big Mac asked, a bit confused.
The dragon shook her head, pulling out several colorful pieces of fabric, a needle, thread, and an unhealthy amount of cotton fluff. “Nonsense, sewing teacakes is a wonderful passtime for princesses entertaining plushie guests!”
“After all, a big fat sunbutt like myself needs to eat more teacakes than anyone else! Because I'm just so greedy!” The alicorn said proudly.
Big Mac nodded, and supposed that made sense. He leaned forward to grab one of the unstuffed cakes, not paying attention as the teapot finally slipped free of his diaper and thumped to the carpeted floor.
He took a hooffull of stuffing and slipped it into the small cake. It was a fairly plain looking slice of teacake, just what somepony would expect, but Big Mac figured a pony like the alicorn would want it properly stuffed, so he filled it with fluff until the seams were straining. He then started to work the needle and thread with his magic, sewing the cloth shut.
The cake flumped to the table, and the changeling gave a small squeak of delight. “Oh, don't mind if I do!” And he bit down on the plush cake, gulping it down as his belly grew just a tad.
Big Mac was already working on the next slice, which seemed a bit bigger, and a bit fancier than the last. As he was working, though, he absentmindedly poked himself with the needle, and started to suck on his hoof.
The more he sucked on his hoof, the easier it was to get slowly lost in the rhythm of stuffing, sewing, and serving his guests more and more elaborate and bigger plush cakes…
Mac poked himself accidentally a few more times, and each time he felt all fuzzy and fluffy and confused.
It was so easy to lose track of everything, how many cakes he was sewing… how squishy his diaper was… even what the changeling, the dragon and the alicorn were murmuring to another.
He caught vague snatches of something about good princesses, and happy plushies – it was all so vague, though, and Mac couldn’t have told you anything that was actually said.
After an unclear amount of time, though, Mac started to recover his sense of what was going on. It wasn’t anything that was being said, or anything he was doing, that began to shake him awake… it was a kind of slow creeeak sound, as if some wood was being strained beyond what it could possibly handle and it was only seconds before it gave way entirely.
The plushy Princess looked up from sewing, and saw to his shock that the alicorn, the changeling and the dragon had all become well and truly overstuffed! The creaking sound was from their chairs, legs bowing out and trembling, and he watched and stared for a long moment.
“What?” the dragon asked. “Something wrong?”
"Y-your chairs!” Was all he could manage to spit out. The changeling leaned to one side to try and look past his engorged body down at his chair. This was just enough extra stress against the wood that there was a terrible crack as the chair shattered, and the changeling plush fell to the floor with a flump!
“What chair? It doesn't feel like there's one here.” He wiggled his butt left and right as if to emphasize the lack of support beneath him. “Besides, plushies and princesses don't need boring old chairs anyway. They need thrones! Ones that are just as puffy as they are.”
The dragon and the alicorn nodded, one at a time, and repeated the sentiment that plushie princesses need thrones.
“Plushie princesses need thrones...” Mac nodded, not paying much attention as a final cake was dropped into his lap, this one already stuffed to bursting at the seams.
“It gives them something to bounce on when their padding gets pokey.” The dragon added.
Mac nodded, staring up at the large cake. His padding tingled as he wrapped his hooves around the plush surface, pulling it tightly against himself to bounce in place. His padding crinkled against the plush surface, and he was momentarily distracted by the alicorn licking her lips at the new plush pastry.
“That looks tasty...” the alicorn said. “Are you going to eat all of it?”
Mac bounced a few more times, thinking more about how good it felt than anything else, and sort of forgot to answer.
“Well?” she pressed, and Mac jumped.
“Oh, ah… n-no,” he replied, too busy pressing it against him.
“Well, are you going to eat any of it?” the alicorn went on.
Mac shook his head again, trying to get a bit more friction. It felt so good, and he wanted to keep going for as long as possible…
Then he felt a sudden push coming from behind him, and another push from the other side of the cake. It increased the pressure he was feeling, making him gasp and rub harder, and it was sort of hard to concentrate well enough to realize what was going on.
Eventually he started to vaguely realize that there was a plushy jaw below him, and another plushy jaw above him, and they were alternately pressing down and letting up. Sort of like chewing… except it only felt really good, instead of anything else.
“Mrph...” Mac mumbled, wiggling about a bit as the alicorn tried unsuccessfully to nom him and only made him feel even better and fuzzier and dizzier with every moment.
Mac's mind swam with thoughts of overstuffed plush cakes and princesses gobbling them up, their padding swelling to match their growing bellies as they rocked back and forth on their rears. His ears echoed with delighted moans and mutterings from the alicorn, about “good plushie princesses” and “needy pampers” and “tasty rumps” as he rubbed himself into the cake.
The feelings blended together of being shoved and released and shoved and released, his mind a swirl until something slowly dragged him back from his thoughts…
The Other Princess Related Chapter
“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.
