Big Celly's Day Off

by B_25

Rating: mature
Tags: Adventure, Princess Celestia, Sex, Twilight Sparkle, Princess Luna, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Princess Cadance, Porn, Comedy
Length: 64341

Princess Celestia has saved up on more than a thousand years of being a good ruler. That nets her one day off, in being free, to enjoy the nation as a giantess. Dressing by cranes, city destruction, Kaiju invasions, rump show-off, and much more.

Princess Celestia has saved up on more than a thousand years of being a good ruler. That nets her one day off, in being free, to enjoy the nation as a giantess. Dressing by cranes, city destruction, Kaiju invasions, rump show-off, and much more.

At least Celly is an absolute cutie!

[Cover by Raps]

Gift for the amazing Raps!

Published 2020-11-23 17:50:03 UTC
Last updated 2021-01-06 22:21:01 UTC

I | Jurassic Mare

~ I ~

Jurassic Mare

The stillness and silence inside the fishing hut frightened the little boy. He laid on a bed tucked in a corner, the same of his family, in different corners, all sound asleep, a wooden table in the center room, the lamp set on it washing the room in a faint glow.

He'd been told stories. Ones of monsters from the depths of the sea. Lurking in the depths of the ocean, always there as you swam, watching and waiting, looking for the moment you were alone, parents were gone, to surface for a snack.

The colt shivered out of his blanket with a yelp. His forehooves slapped over his mouth and his eyes swept the room. Snores continued throughout. His sigh came muffled as his hooves fell away. Turning on his bed to the ruffling of sheets, he rose on his knees, looking out the window, dusk on the shore outside his home.

Morning still on the way.

Something calmed him about the watery horizon. Though the vastness of the rolling waters hinted to behemoth monsters underneath the surface, it was the sky, blotches of orange at its bottom, rising, to the peacefulness found in a painting.

But what if something had risen from the water? Something great and massive and villainous? Rising in the spread of the sea to waterfalls cascading from the monolithic form of its head? Narrowed eyes larger than planes with deadness also desired in that which it saw.

How it looked to the shore and the scattered huts across it, able to swipe a meal without leaving the sea, returning and submerging, to newcomers finding now an empty beach in its wake? Shivering again was the boy as his forelegs hugged around himself tightly.

Then came the thump.

Low at first. Jostle enough to rattle a castle as everything vibrated inside the hut. Widened were the boy's eyes and jerky was his neck in looking around. Cabinets teetered in place. Loosely at first. Plates clattering to a single series of chimes.

Then it struck again.

Loud and distant with its renditions breaking throughout the land. It was monstrous. Threat from the outside causing a quake in its every crack to a deepening and darkening pitch of sound. How deep it went. Something large breaking into the land, crunching into the ground, like snow becoming no more under a step. Flattened at least to the weight of a hoof.

H-Hoof?

It grew larger and quicker as every step rocked the foundations of the hut. Overhead swung the lamp on the rope as the one sitting on the table smoothly slid around. The boy leapt from his bed, missing his hooves and crashing into the ground, rolling forward, jostled back, yelping in so doing, as another violent step had rocked and bounced him.

The family slept.

“Enough whining! We won't take you out next morning if the stories were that bad! But please let us sleep before we go out tomorrow.”

The colt ran his hoof in turning the dial as the other held the golden base down, his chest resting on the table. It pushed him into the air at every bounce of the distant, titanic step.

It got closer. Picking up the lamp and putting it beneath the table, the boy was tossed into the air, a thunderous crack shooting out from outside, booming nearby. What was it? The boy couldn't know after landing on his hooves and stumbling into place. Looking right revealed the cabinet, tilting forward, the plates behind the glass, stacked into it, threatening to fall free at an inch more.

The colt dashed to it. Enduring the stomps on the way, each knocking him left or right, a cause to stumble and sway—until pushing into the thing. He groaned and pushed and fought to rest it on the ground again.

And the beds in the corner, leaping from the slams throughout the ground, those asleep, still, somehow.

The next step was close. Very close. Enough for its shadow to be felt even through wood. The ceiling had creaked in leaning in ways not meant. Whatever that thing was, it lurked outside the hut, its force there. It was in fear the colt stumbled to the bed, able to walk due to the stillness, the beast, whatever it was, awaiting him on the other side of the glass.

He climbed onto the mattress and shuffled across it, putting his forehooves to the wood of the wall, supporting himself, in looking out the window. Sand and dispersed huts awash in a shadow across the beach. Everything darker than needing to be—it coming short, though, partway over the water.

Then came the stomp. Rattling to the shattering of some of the buildings on the short. Lightly descended a great and long thing of white, its roundness consuming a crater of sand, slowly, twisting to adjust in the ground.

The boy pressed his face into the glass in wonder at the thing. How only its edge existed at the side of the window, leaving the rest of its greatness a mystery, a towering foreleg, keeping like an imposing post.

His imagination dressed the fluffy monstrosity as a lighthouse. Great and round metallic rolling around the curve of the ivory tower, railing set around them, bars to hold onto, if the monster walked, as to not go over them. Staircases connecting levels as to allow one to ascend or descend the leg of the beast.

And even then he couldn't see it all. Turning his head upside-down and looking up at the window, he barely caught the underside of a shoulder, one that loomed far beyond the frame of glass. It seemed to be pushing out, the rest of the horror, lowering, as the dimmed, vast expanse of white, zoomed downward.

KA-BOOOM!

An explosion rocketed the land as it blasted outward to dispel itself. Detonation beneath the sand knocking a portion of the beach world. Down came the violent downpour of the grain as it heavily crashed into the ceiling—sounded like a boom caught inside a sealed chamber. Hard and loud in the dense waves splashing upon it. Then it lightened. The sand cascading in a calm pelting from the roof to the ground at all sides.

The steady stream was impossible to see through. Rubbing at the window did nothing to assist in the sight at the other side. Commotion followed behind. Hooves dancing and voices calling and confusion surfacing. The one not scared, this time, being the formerly-frightened boy.

Too amazed by wonder to be scared by the immensity of it.

Finally the downpour ceased. Through the dust on the glass she could be seen. White bright enough to be its own light. It consumed the view through the window. Decimated it. Show not even a spot to the side of that which was beyond comparison.

It was a barrel. That clicked in his mind. Though it was hard to tell, that was the feeling of the thing, the bottom of the thing, not even an inch of the thing able to be viewed. The base of the shoulder larger than a boulder as its upward curve, cut short, at the top of the window—before it could even enter a curve.

Then came the sounds of a dog.

The boy blinked and looked behind him. His pet on the other side of the room, underneath his brother's bed, trembling into itself. Carrying his gaze to the bowl of water now splashed free of the substance. Yet a tongue lapped at water. And did so louder than the settling of violent winds.

Shifting to the right of the window, the boy looked as far left as he could, to the shore, dwarfed beneath the mare. It was a mare. The expanse of her chest coming short of the water to allow her muzzle, like a bridge in a city, expanding far out of view. The sound of her snout tapping the surface of the water was sweet to hear.

The boy finally had enough in being held back as he rose to the side of the window. Pulling on the lever there while pushing on the window, feeling it push out and up, allowing him to duck his head through. Looking out to the water, his eyes followed the side the feminine beast, it rolling to the horizon without losing size, remaining gigantic, regardless of how far out he looked.

Compressed was her softness, as it was now, bunched into itself.

The skyscraper lapped at the distant water, far beyond the shore, apparently though, not far enough. It was hard to see due to the distance. But the spread of her tongue dipped into the water, a smack, thundering waves despite its gentleness, dipping below the surface and emerging, milliseconds between the act, a pond of water collected on her tongue.

And she continued to do this as the gentle mare drank from the coast.

The boy became mesmerized in watching her. Hanging from the window to see more out to her. Impossible was it to see over the steepness of her side as it ascended higher than his craned neck would allow. But he was more interested in watching her drink from the sea he was so scared of.

Winds rolled as the morning finally came from over the water. Pipelines of mane, rich red and soft blue and sunny orange, casting into the air, wavering, provoking a hoof to tuck all behind the giantess's ear. The morning mare drank with closed eyes and an appearance of naturalism.

The boy flushed in a blush of the scent. Each breeze carrying the aroma of vanilla. Fresh and refreshing his lungs in the breath of something new. She was beautiful. Dimmed coat of white, no more, no longer, as the morning sunlight rolled across her immensity.

The width and pinkness of her tongue—looking like the back of a broad waterslide—rose from the water afar, coming to pull into the mouth unseen, only the side of her face exposed, calm and pretty. Slowly, though, the closed eyes open. Narrowed and disgusted as the mare came to push out her tongue.

There was a cay, on the center of her tongue, clumps of wet sand, littered with seaweed, which critters scurried out from. Did her eyes cross in looking down at the collection on her tongue? The side of her one eye suggested it so.

The mare turned her head, and very unladylike, spat the clump. It crashed into the wooden port, breaking through the bridge, starting a collapse across it, ships weighing to a side, due to a sudden heap of sand—capsizing a few.

Voices had become sounds to the boy as he looked behind him, the family joined around his bed, looking out and muttering princess. The colt tilted his head at that. Then covered his mouth before a chuckle. Faraway, the monstrous mare dived the tip of her tongue in the water, using hooves to splash water on it.

Either cleaning her tongue.

Or trying a strange way of fishing for sharks.

And through covered hooves, the rolling distance between them, somehow, on the shoreline, the mare's head straightly lifted. It turned, slowly, revealing the side of her muzzle. An eye, wide, in facing her company; scarlet raced across the cheek beneath the orb.

“O-Oh dear.” The giantess looked at them in horror and, given the last while, the boy couldn't help but sweetly laugh in irony. Her chest fluffed at the embarrassment and slowly lifted from the ground. “I didn't mean to disturb anyone. It didn't look like there were any homes here. And I—“

And she stopped in feeling multiple items dislodging from the tufts of her trunk. Tip of her muzzle aiming downward to catch the unintentional destruction. Huts and gazebos bound and endlessly wrapped in thick fluffs of white. Some kept locked to the jostling of her chest. Others falling, already crumbled, becoming nothing as patios slammed and rained across the beach.

“Um.” The blush of the beast increased as she smiled an awkward mile to the family. “J-Just a second if you do not mind.” In resting harder on her forelegs, they crunched into the sand, carving trenches out to water and not knowing, pushing on them to lift the front of her body. Her head swung down and hung upside down, seeing through the expanse of her belly, of the wood, dots of soot, planks cut in furs but too little for her eyes. “Oh no.”

“It's okay! It's okay Miss Princess Giantess!” The colt waved a foreleg nice and slow as the princess, with a titanic face looking across the underside of her body, saw over the tuft of her chest, and to the right of her foreleg, to spot him at the window. “It's only us here today! Rest of the fishers are in a nice resort! But mommy said we couldn't go—one family needed to stay behind.”

“Ah.” Her upside-down face was like the sun paying a visit. Immense waves of chromatic hair amassed beneath her head in a whirlpool of colours. “T-Thank you for telling me that. I am in your debt.” The majesty of her eyes, each burning a soft glow of violet, swept across the dimmed land crushed underneath her. “Though it wasn't my intent to put you in debt. Do I spot a rowboat? How horrible! Allow me to...”

She dropped onto a shoulder as it carved into the same, water flushing the dome at once, filling, as her hoof shot underneath her belly. Its curved edge contacted the boat into blowing into a cloud of brown—shooting too quick as to smash through the thing.

Her ears flapped out and her face imploded in.

“O-Oh no! Oh dear! Dear oh dear! D-Do not lose hope! I am sure there are other m-means to make your livelihood as I send for o-others to fix things here!” Her body lifted from the ground to a height that looking up barely caught the view inside the boy's vision. Her head floated like a cloud whipping in place, wet mane furling in a twirl. “Aha! There! Woods just on lands!”

The bottoms of the hooves on the ground danced around, a thud and a thump, each time they stepped around, a show of amazement as the covering shadow twirled with it. She turned to the side as his view rose as only as high as her ankles. But in the space between the front and back of her legs, the woods set afar, usually blocked by buildings, were now exposed. Expansive and reaching a bit on the slope of the surrounding mountains that had isolated the fishing community.

This, however, was meant, of course, with an unintentional effect.

Though they could not see the magnitude to the base of the tail, its volume appeared on the other side of the barrel, below it, swiping to the turn of the girl. It crashed into the ground and slashed across it, the immensity of woodland, wiped, in a swipe of a tail.

The boy lost his breath in a laugh with clapping hooves following. Trees cracking at the instance of a whip of a prismatic strand, each swept and caught in the dense wall of hair, everything tangling, as it boomed left. Large resting logs, no more, in being passed over by tail, swallowed into its chamber, barren land remaining in her wake.

“See! Plenty of work remains here!” Her elbow entered the view in gesturing the totality of the former-meadow above the line of her foreleg. In hearing laughter, through, the hoof dropped as visible tips of mane swayed to the turning of a head. “W-What? But that isn't right! There was a whole—“

“Your tail! Your tail, tail, your tail!” The boy laughed with mirth while pointing to the distant waterfall of her tail, coming to feel a gaze, a gentle one, lay upon him. Then it passed as the monstrous hooves stepped forward, the march twisting into herself to look at her back. “See! You did all the work for us! Thank you!”

“Horrible! Oh I am so horrible! Please forgive me!” One foreleg returned to the sky and the boy, tired of not seeing the happenings there, tumbled through the window. Landing on the wood of the deck and looking up with a shake of the head, he saw the mare wrap a leg around her bottom, bunching it into volume. “Perhaps I can brush it all off! Or your family can explore and lumber work in the depths of my tail!”

Her head fell to him, not meaning to as it hung in defeat, muzzle pointed to the ground, eyes closed, a sigh incoming. Warm and strong as wind flushed over the hut. It lost some of the dense straw protecting it as bunches of the stuff flew with the breath. “That isn't right either. I hadn't intended any of this. Yet my fun has caused you all harm.”

The boy cocked his head and bore confusion until strolling forward. He looked to the hanging muzzle of the mare as it loomed like a mountain before him. Its closed eye twitched at sensing him come closer. “How come you're so big?”

“That? Side-effect of my desire for the day.” Her saddened eye opened to him, watching him approach, entranced only by him. “I fear you might be too young to understand little one.”

Reaching the front of her muzzle, he reached up a hoof, doing his best to smile. “Try me!”

“I fear... as though I have not been having much fun as of late.” Celestia dipped her muzzle into the sand, sinking a bit, pretending it was like a pillow to stuff her face into. “I have done well in governing my land. But I fear I grew tired of it. Bored even.”

Her eye went to close, but stopped instead, in feeling a tickle to the side of her nostril. She focused on his beaming form. “But that makes sense! It happens to me all the time.”

The eye vaster than a pond blinked, repeatedly, its violet glow a touch brighter. “You have land you rule?”

“No—but my parents make me do chores!” The kid turned his head and looked away. “It's not that I don't like chores. But sometimes they make me do nothing but chores! They're good chores though. Our place stays clean and we can catch a lot of fish. But even then that makes me not wanna do them.”

The snowy muzzle flicked up and down in the sand. “I too have chores I must do but do not desire to do them.”

“But then, sometimes, my parents surprise me by saying we don't have to do any chores today!” The kid looked back at her with the kind of sincere mirth only a child could show. “Instead we wake up and have a big breakfast! Usually pancakes. Nobody has to work or do anything. We just play on the beach and do board games and sometimes even fish—but, like, relaxed fishing! The kind where you toss the fish back in.”

Seconds blurred as the titanic muzzle before him, wide and sweeping back to the mare's face, suddenly turned, catching him at its center, as both enormous eyes focused on him. The rest of her body rose from behind his head, a soft mountain rising, higher then he could even see. “And what of the chores when you go back?”

“I like them! I mean you kind of start to miss them after having too much fun.” The kid nodded as he went along in speaking what he felt. “You feel good as you're doing them. Until you start not feeling so great about them again. Then it's another day of only having fun and then everything is good again!”

Strong exhales blew from the nostrils and swept back the banks of sand behind him. “You are someone very wise for your age.”

“I'm eight!” The colt laughed and threw himself into the white cliff, rolling a bit on the snout, before stepping back. “So maybe you should have a fun day too! You did get all your chores done, right?”

“Indeed I have.” Her lips stretched beyond the corners of his vision, and though he couldn't see all of them, the mare's smile could be felt. “I've planned for this day for longer than you could know, little one.”

“Then you should have some fun!” The colt finally stepped back and dropped to all fours. “Though, if you can, maybe you want to be a tad smaller.”

“Not small?”

“It seems like you can have a lot more fun being big! But you should be careful.” He looked over his shoulder and at his hut, where his family was gathered, still flabbergasted by it all. Open mouths—some not knowing the patches of sand on their tongues. “Or else you might hurt somebody.”

“Right you are on that.” The muzzle inched out and back from the dome in the sand, rising to a height feet above him, the span of her face consuming his gaze, the lighting of her horn seen only by how it glowed on her face. “Which now leaves the matter of how to compensate you and your family for my troubles; a large number of bits are in order.”

“Hehehe! Will they be large like you as well?” The colt stepped back and reared up to catch the attention of the giantess. He held as big of a circle as he could between his arms. “Whenever ponies talk a lot of bits, I-I can never see that.”

“Oh?”

“When they speak about a lot of bits, all I can see is one HUGE bit! Like really massive! Nearly as big as you!”

“The more bits...”

“The bigger the coin is!”

“Very well! The higher ones are made of gold after all.” Something zapped into existence. Saucer of a shadow over the land to the right. It dropped. Crashing to the launching of everything nearby. His hut jumped, before settling in place. “Here you are! One large bit composed of gold!”

The colt looked far to the right to see the curve of the coin, its side resting into a hill. It'd used to be taller, that was, until being flattened by the currency's weight. Large lines running upon its slope going around. Its glossy surface reflected its surroundings.

He looked back to the mare, who now rested on her front, forelegs crossed beneath her chin, which rested on them. She looked down at him with total amusement as her mane billowed out in regaining its life. “Wow! Thanks a lot! I wonder how we'll roll that to the store!”

The giantess smiled. “You won't, silly.”

Something also boomed and poofed into existence as the colt looked at the lingering stars above. Below it was a pickax, metal long in a slope, halved by a beam of wood, so large in its impressiveness. “You'll use this! Chip away at the coin to get what you need.”

“Is it like fishing?!”

“Indeed it kinda is! But more immediate in that fact.” The mare rose to the rumbling of the land as the boy was jostled to rest on his back. It allowed him to see up to the height of the mare, who smiled down at him. “You hold it back like a rod and, when you're ready to go, you swing it forward!”

The pickax floated behind her and did the motion, slicing the sky, stars cut apart, the gleam of the metal possessing the glint of one. “You'll chip and get something right away as you—“

The pickax twirled down and curved back up to return to how it started, but in so doing, its tip slipped into the top of the mountain behind it. Sliced like a clump of butter as it was carried upward and, from the momentum, flung forward over the mare, whose eyes shrunk in watching it fly.

In the distance came the crash and the bubbling of splashing water. Towering mare and little boy, facing each other, turned, slowly, to the sea. There was the severed mountain top, jumping in hops across the water, like a pebble skipping across the water, a sport played by kids. Soon it settled and bobbed and sailed outward like a polar icecap.

“...once more... I am... so sorry...”

“Woah! So far!” The kid pumped up his forelegs after having stood seconds previously. “That was so cool! You must have set a record or something!” He looked over to the mountain range to its middle largely missing. “And it'll be easier to get to a village where Ace Base is!'

“Is that your friend?”

“Best hopscotcher around! I'll have to tell him about this!”

“Indeed you will.” Soon the pickax next to her, caught in a glow, had the light crash into it. Dwindling as it floated over to him, and in the time of reaching, no bigger than his foreleg. “But now I'm afraid it's my time to leave.”

“Aw! Do you have to?”

“Afraid I must in order to make good on your advice.” Her legs turned to the sea as her largeness was pointed toward it. “There is a threat set to appear later today. If I'm to have that fun you speak of before it arrives—I must embark now as opposed to later.”

The kid smiled and nodded up at her. “Okay then! It was nice meeting you... Princess Monster?”

She laughed. “That is right. Only one is allowed to call me that name in this kingdom and it shall be you.” Her long legs strode toward the water, gold of her regalia clacking on the surface of the water—before sinking into it. “Please. Once today is done and your family is ready. Come see me at Canterlot Castle. We'll take care of matters properly there.”

Large waves splashed as her legs sunk further into the water, the greatness of her barrel lowering into it, finally coming into view, as she rolled out to the horizon. The boy stood dumbfounded at the side of his home. Quickly, though, he dashed to the port, across the bridge, to what planks remained. He wanted to see her for a little longer.

“Princess Monster!” There he was as far he could go on the broken bridge, most of it falling into the water, shouting through joined hooves. His voice echoed across the water as, afar, the barrel of the mare sunk beneath the water. “I also forgot to say you're really pretty!”

The mare stopped afar, turning around to look at him, the beauty of her face, accentuated, in the orange and glow of the lifting sun. She smiled back at him with and wink and then a sticking of her tongue. “Give it a few more years and you'll think a little more than that!”

Happily the mare floated away.

And the colt, scared of what immense monsters lurked at the sea, couldn't help but laugh, at seeing the beast sail like a duck across the ocean.

II | Gold on the Shore

~ II ~

Gold on the Shore

Mornings on the resort had been peaceful, not needing an alarm as the blanket of sunlight, washing over the bed, was cause to wake the mare. Shifting beneath covers as limbs bulged in different directions beneath the density of the blanket. The mare groaned, rolling to the arching of her spine, legs kicking, her system coming alive.

It didn't take long for her eyes to open to the scene. The small though open room, with a bed tucked in a corner, a desk against the wall, two cabinets on either side of the door, the planked ceiling above, slanted in design, with a fan, turning slowly, hung from it.

The mother waved her forelegs underneath the sheets, looking for her son, only to discover an empty bed. With a groan she rolled over, legs falling over its edge, a light creaking to the wood as she stepped down onto all fours upon it.

First instinct was to deal with the blinding at the side of her face. Walking to the window consuming most of the back wall, she rose on it, pushing out the doors, inviting in the sweeping breeze of the sea. Fresh and calming and cause for a deep inhale.

Then another at truly seeing the sight.

The resort opened to a near hedge maze below, a cobbled path down the middle, leading to an active water fountain in the middle, which it curved around, rolling out further, dipping steps in its trek, to the opening width of the beach situated a few feet beyond the place.

It was a breathtaking sight, sure, but that hadn't been the thing to steal the mare's breath.

Rather it was things.

Out on the water loomed the floating objects of gold. Glinting brightly with the glare of the morning sun. Dots of ponies swam around the monolithic objects. Those pieces swirled, rocked by waves, but always keeping afloat.

And it didn't take her long to rush to the beach, assuming the worst on several things, about something not listed in the resort's package. Her hooves sunk into the warmed sand of the beach as she could better look out to the items.

Waves lazily lapped at the bottom of the polished objects. Four of them floated out into the waters. Tall with a sloped wall shooting high. Slowly it turned on the water, showing a cavity at its middle, a dome within, a round ground, revealing the shopping center where countless ponies gathered.

The mare blinked in stepping onto the shore, feeling the water rush over the edge of her hoof, comforting her on the strange change from the night. Booths and stands had been set up and scattered throughout the thing, drinks and meals, served and cooked, across the platform. Controlled swarms of ponies strolled through the aisles, heads looking to the different attractions, deciding on what they wanted to settle on.

Is that... a giant... horseshoe?

Another floated next to it. Tall enough as to block out the sun, but carried its glow, on its side, across its curve. It turned on the water to show a different sport. Pegasi flew up and down its inner-wall, etching and painting into the gold, personalizing the thing. Earth ponies played on the platform below. Tossing water balloons and running like fools.

What is... going on here?

There'd been four in total, each, beneath the water, strapped with weight around its circumference, to keep them afloat. Except for the forth. It was like a blond pad in the distance, only its rim above the water, countless waves on it, pushing and rocking on it, everything fighting, stumbling, to ride the tides and not get knocked from it.

Many were. Pushed or thrown off. Splashing into the water with laughter. Swimming to it to be helped back on to enjoy the ride once more. Despite the strangeness, ponies were having fun, not intent on asking too many questions.

“Mom mom! You're awake!” The mare turned to her right for a bolt to slam into her chest. Her foreleg wrapped around the colt's neck and pulled him close at once. “You missed it you missed it! The princess left her things for us to play with.”

So many questions flared in her head, and for the stunned mother, she focused on the present subject first. “C-Come again sweetie?”

“Look! Don't you see!? That's always the stuff she's wearing on her forelegs—except really big now!” The mother looked back to see the items floating and twirling on the water, reminded of the princess, but that answer flushing even more confusion. “And there! That's the thing she's always wearing on her chest—right?”

His tugged forced her to turn right. Seeing afar the chest-piece of the princess. It drifted across the waters like a ship, keeping full course to the leg, bobbing and rising to the waves beneath it—never losing its calm speed.

Mouth openings and jaw droppings were to be expected at this point. Squinting revealed the chasm of the piece composed of rows of ponies, on towels, lying on their fronts and backs, suntanning as they were caught adrift. On its far corners loomed lifeguard towers and benches from which ponies watched from.

“And there! Look over there! Left, mom, left!”

She didn't need to be pushed to see it either. Eye sockets stretched to the extreme as the shadow of the thing passed onto the beach. In the distance was a tiara. Its beams shooting higher than could be seen. Most of the crown fit in her view. But seeing that which belonged on a princess's head, now crowning the water, was a whirl for something more.

Much so on the ponies climbing it.

Some lounged on the rim of the crown. Most, though, hugged the base of the beam, going up and across it, reaching the round perch at the top. Pegasi looked over the edge to the water far below. Step back and jump forward, wings flapping slightly, slowing their fall before the numerous and joined crashings into the water below.

“Sweetie? D-Darling dear?” The mother turned away from the outfit of a princess floating on the waters of the beach. She looked down at her son and held him an inch out. “Just how long have you been out here?”

“Just a little bit before morning!”

“Deary!”

“Mom! I tried waking you up! Me and the other colts saw something on the water but none of you would wake up!” The colt broke out from the grip as he backed on the stand, trotting in place, jumping high on every step. “When we got out here the princess was here! And she was huge! Like, really big!”

“Really big huh?”

“Yeah! Bigger than the ocean and all that!” The colt stopped running in place, and instead, swiped a clump of sand. “Though she started getting smaller when we came out here! Left all of her stuff for us to play with. We wanted to check it out so we swam and—“

“You swam without someone watching?!”

“The princess was watching! You should have seen her mom! Most of us made it to that golden floating thingy, and the whole time, she was underneath us. She took up most of the water! Watching her swim under—it was crazy!”

“You are so in trouble.”

“None of us got hurt! Well, one of the other colts didn't make it right away—but I was going to jump back in under him! All of us were on the floating things and coming to its edge when we saw her in the water.”

“And this is?”

“Princess Celestia! She was really big mom! Like her whole face was under the water and you couldn't see anything around or past it—besides her mane. It was also huge! It looked really cool floating underwater like that.”

“Sweetie... are you... are you sure this really happened!”

“You can ask the other colts! When she came to the surface, she had that colt on her muzzle—it was like he was in a bubble or something. The princess nudged him with the rest of us. You should have seen her swim! We had a lot of fun!”

“What... what did you and the princess do?”

“Everything! Sometimes she'd swim underneath and around that thing we were on to make it turn around and around! Then we got to ride her back to that chest piece thingy! She would bob up and down in the water so we got to ride some waves.”

“She was watching over you?”

“She only left once the other adults started showing up.” The colt pouted and looked to all the other ponies out on the water. “But we still had a bit more fun before that. Sometimes she'd dip her muzzle below the water and we'd climb onto it, then she could lift it, then we would run and jump from it like a diving board.”

“...anything else?”

“The princess laid on her back on one point! We ran across her tummy and fought through great white bushes! She's really fluffy on her chest. Sometimes she dipped below the water and would come up to make things fun! She always watched from above though. It looked like she was having a lot of fun!”

“I guess... I guess.. I don't know what I guess.”

“We can go get some food from that stall at the back of the shoe? It smelled really good when I was on there with dad earlier.”

“How come he didn't get you some?”

“He said that if I was a good boy, waiting for you to wake up, that you would buy me even more.”

The mother grinned. “Is that so?”

“Yes!”

“Very well then... only this time, you'll be riding my back there.”

“Can I get a milkshake as well?”

“Now you're pushing it mister.”

Author's Note

In which I use a colt to mock the way how I sometimes describe things. We gotta take a punch at ourselves sometimes. F'naaaaa!

III | The Morning Calm

~ III ~

The Morning Calm

The captain faced the bounty of the water, a hoof wrapped around a steaming mug, the distant waves calm and slow, like the gentle breezes that caused them. The morning calm was a gift only to those there to receive it. Peace before the chaos. Then the tired satisfaction that comes after a day well done.

“Sir Castaway?”

Castaway drank the breeze as its caress brushed his coat. Donned was a long, emerald jacket. It flapped, lightly, its whips a comfortable sound. Once more the waves crashed into the side of the shipping yard. “Crane... we ain't even clocked in yet.” He turned to his best stallion. “Why are you trying to start the day earlier than needed?”

“Because night-crew messed with the placements and—“

“We are not correcting their mistakes on our off-time.”

“It ain't that.” Crane turned away his head to unleash a sigh. His chest seemed compounded with tension. Eyes narrowed in that way of being unsure of how to phrase that which came next. “Just that the working order from yesterday was issued by royalty itself.”

“Course we already knew that you dolt.” Castaway stepped forward on the walkway, feeling the metal teased in the holes across it. Several feet below loomed the yard. Forklifts cruising past each other as long and colourful shipping containers stood stacked on either side of wide lanes. “Processed the order and space myself. Abundant clothing and other accessories expected of such folk. The space cleared for pick up?”

“Exactly the problem sir.” Crane stumbled back on enduring a full gaze on him. “Left dock is still... mostly clear from removal last week. Additional crew show up today. Should already be ready and on standby for royalty's arrival.”

“Do you know why ponies do a job well? So they don't have to hear about it after they're done.” Castaway rose and crossed his forelegs on the polished railing of yellow, sliding until his chest rested on the beam. He sipped from his mug and looked over the waters. Waves whipped beneath the surface. “So why are you telling me all that I got right on my off-time?”

“Because someone else didn't do their job well.”

“And why ain't you bringin' it to them?”

“Because they punched out before I could catch them.”

“And why are you bringing it to me?”

“Because you're the only one who knows how to do the job well.”

Castaway dropped and shook his head to golden mane swaying over his eyes. Keeping as such, he looked up and through the bangs, relaxed by the sunny beams set over the watery horizon. “Pays more to be a slacker in most spots—doesn't it?”

“I don't know sir.” Hoofsteps dared to near from the side. “Doing the job well usually comes with perks you can't get from anything else.”

A sideways nod of the head followed by a loose chuckle. “Maybe you're right in that. And... thanks. For bringing this to my attention and all that.” Castaway rolled his shoulders while adjusting on the railing. Curves shot out in the water afar. Signs of a boat close and set to dock... yet none around at all. “So what is this problem anyway?”

“About that.” The stallion cleared his throat and tried again, voice a lot looser, sounding more relaxed. “Staff aren't used to having a whole dock free of anything. We've had to optimize the space we had left.”

“Which is possible and has been so these last few weeks—so long as the good boys are keepin' to the plan.” Castaway's eyes squeezed and the tip of his snout rolled around. Natural reaction to finding a problem on his own. “Which they ain't. Even with the map up and placement already set.”

The breeze rolled in before an answer did. “Complications arose last night. Staff pretty much took what they couldn't tuck away and littered containers over the area. Not a lot of them. But enough to be a problem.”

“Ain't that jolly.” He looked back over the railing to the paved lane below, set before the edge of the water, which softly lapped at the yard. It wasn't supposed to be this active in the morning. Though bad days come with a surprise in everything. “And when are the royals due to arrive?”

“Before either of us have time to punch in.” Swift and concise was the speech. “Hence this.”

“You're a good stallion after all.” Castaway shook his head and sighed through the steam of his coffee. Nodding into it, the flick, afterward, was the cue to send the other away. “Now get yourself into the office. Take ten after you punch in. You shouldn't lose compensation for your time due to the numb-skulls before.”

The stallion turned away but did not move. “Thanks sir. But I’d... rather get early on this problem with the crew—so everyone suffers a little bit less.”

“Good stallion indeed.”

“And sir?”

“Another problem?”

“Not quite.” The stallion's head rose as he swallowed hard. “The contents of those containers from overseas? Ones spanning the freighter that came it? It was nothing but clothing and accessories, sir.”

Castaway eyes scrunched into each other, his lips drinking the coffee, the bitterness reinvigorating. “Well. What did you expect? Royals not wanting to fill a castle with clothing?”

“But this clothing could dress a castle itself!”

Castaway looked over at the stallion who kept his back to him. “Come again?”

“Each container, sir, each of ‘em is stuffed with giant articles of clothing! Nice and smooth and velvet too.” Crane shook his head as it leaned downward. “Densely stacked fabric touching the ceiling and spanning back. Not multiple outfits or anything like that. Just one massive skirt.”

Castaway thought about it, eyes flicking in their jump from an answer to answer, the most rational ones, of course, the first to die. Finally, he stopped caring as the moments before the shift was shortened by this. “Don't worry 'bout it. Ain't our business to be snooping the contents too deeply. Maybe they got some giant mannequin they're going to dress in the likeness of someone. Who knows?”

Crane raised his head. “Perhaps you're right. Maybe we should be focusing more on the task at hoof anyhow.”

“Thatta boy.” Castaway nudged his head away. “Now scoot. I need to prepare for meeting the convoy.” He leaned further over the railing. “And the words never come out right before a finished cup.”

“Aye aye sir!”

“We ain't the guard! Now get a move on.”

“Aye aye!”

“Oh boy.”

Hoofsteps on metal faded into the distance as Castaway remained at peace. There was always a small shake to his head with every exhale harsh on the lungs. He gazed out left, across the colourful stacks of containers, seeing the open port there. The space bore parked forklifts and boxes not belonging there.

Royalty was always pedantic about everything being right.

“I'm as good as dust after this.”

Castaway's head hung over the railing with ears flattening against the sides of his head. Sunlight warmed through his mane to the back of his scalp. It comforted him. But then came a shiver. An incessant vibration.

His head lifted in a tilt while looking down at a metallic beam. Rattling and rolling in place until becoming so quick as to appear still. Sirens beeped below as those on forklifts swerved around each other. Something was rumbling from the sea that was unseen.

What could it be? Castaway blinked in being unable to back down. Violent stomps quaked throughout despite an origin point appearing non-existent. It came from the sea. Waves splashing over the edge as they washed across the pavement. Boxes turned on the currents in being flushed back. Another BOOMquaked the water from down under.

Down under?

Castaway looked down at the view of ponies fleeing the scene. Distance between them and the threat. Looking back to the water, though, came the rising of long and thick objects to the surface. Wet locks billowed up, clapping on their breaking of the surface, chromatic strands flying several feet, then plopping down, seconds later, in a gentle rest across the water.

Hair floating like a pool rendered unto itself.

“D-Dear Celestia... what in t-tarnation is that?”

It was hard to see even from an aerial view. But the sense of form could be felt. Something large and round set before the edge of the dock. Mane outward in its spread as its colours glinted in the sunlight. Through the locks loomed a form. Shadowy and monolithic. Waves gushed from over it. Subtle rocking able to rock the shore.

Castaway looked over his shoulder to see the staff fleeing for the gates. Wondering if he should do the same, curiosity locked him in place, the beast before him, this threat, appealing to him somehow. Slowly then did it emerge.

A sight unable to be contained.

It broke the surface with a thunderous crashing unable to be bested. Waterfalls thickly crashed as the beast's head lightly rose. It consumed the edge of the port in the width of its face alone. Long spanned its muzzle as it kept in a downward tilt. Little hacking, gently done, from the massive beauty.

Castaway felt his mouth open, even only a little, in witnessing the titanic view. Awash in shadow as Celestia's head blocked the sun. Dense mane draped and clung to the length of her neck. Glossy colours sticking to the matted whiteness of her coat.

“Mmhmmm! Oooooh deeeeeaaar!” Celestia's voice boomed without being overbearing or annoying. Rather it consumed everything within the space without a touch more. It didn't command attention but encouraged it. The massive mare seemed unaware of it all the same. “Such a long swim! Please, if you don't mind, give me a few moments to stretch.”

Castaway squeaked in meaning to speak. He doubted the princess knew him to be there. Eyes closed and mass so voluminous as if it was even possible for him to see him without trying. Something splashed from the water. Two objects. Sprawling cylinders of white, lifting from the water and over the yard below. They hovered for a second as their shadow shot across the lane.

From the fur came a drop. Thick droplets pelting from the span of the wrist. How it possessed a shadow of its own in dropping, a collection of crates caught within it, all of them, on impact, shattering into an explosion of wood flying. The contents within were doused and washed out onto the pavement.

Then the mighty forehooves descended from up high. Slowly but tremendously as the air generated rocked the railing Castaway stumbled on. Then came the crash below. Thunderous and quaking. Metal clattering as containers shivered on top of each other. Few containers slid back, backs slamming into the ground, leaning from the impact, moving over the edge and splashing into the sea.

Castaway threw himself into the railing and bore the vibrations into his chest. He looked down at the gulf below. Two composed tunnels of utter white slid across below. Sliding to the crumbling of concrete, nothing but sand to the hooves. That, and how afar, the mare arched forward, chest-floof blanketing the edge of the yard, the whole of her body pushing into the dock. Afar and to the back, her monolithic rump pushed out and high up, mountainous flanks, creamy in their whiteness, now smoother in the sunlight.

Once more his breath had been lost for a different reason. Flanks arched to the sky and blocking the view of clouds. The space they devoured. Mere existence blotting out the world behind it. The jitter, wobbles, of the tremendous twins. Fat without being fat as the slope of their curve could make a mountain jealous. They jiggled ever so easily. Softly swaying into the other. Light smack to little rub. One grinding into the other until swaying apart.

“Oh dear!” The front of the princess arched up as well, the bend in her back deepening, a ramp composed of snow. Her neck ascended like a lighthouse rising from the depths of the sea. Shadows darkened her coat. Locks the size of tubes swung like a pendulum clock. “E-Exactly what I needed! Such a shame in losing my floater! Or my tube for air for that matter.”

Something terrific splashed out from the water to the pelting of rain on pavement. Afar and at her side rose a colossal wing, its tips larger than boats, the added pressure flooding through her front. Her chest mounted on the edge of the dock, cracking into it, further, as spiderwebs shot back from the impact and across the asphalt.

“And that careless submarine! Jabbing itself into my flank like that.” Celestia's head shook at the memory as her wet locks whacked across the edge. Vines breaking into the sides of containers, crunching into their middles, a few landing on forklifts, flattening them on weight alone, coming to whip them the second next. “Eek! Dear heavens! Blew out the top of my breather with that. If Luna saw that...”

Castaway struggled to keep alive in the scene. Unable to handle this terrific beauty consuming the width of a dock with her body alone. Her forelegs had slid fully underneath. Their shape rolled high enough to brush the railing—spots of fur, ivory, of course, coming through the holes of the metallic plating.

Then there was her. Head high enough to require the backward crane of his neck. She turned a tad to the side and exposed the same of her muzzle, revealing the length of her body, barrel blurred as it went on, fields of sloped white, now wet, spreading out in reaching her posterior.

And that was massive.

How that mighty wing set its tips across the thickest swell of the flank, three bunched together on a spot, rolling around, jostling the cheek as well. Heavy were its ripples as the splashing waters below weren't able to compete. Light bounces came as the tips vibrated up and down.

“Oh well... mhmmm...” Suddenly was how the mare's head lowered from the sky, graceful in its swiftness. The forehooves below pulled back, pushing on the railing, rocking it as the stallion fumbled around. “At least I've finally made it ashore.”

Sunlight exploded as Celestia fell out of its way. Castaway rose a foreleg to protect his eyes as the shakes below rocked through the platform. His thigh smacked into the railing, the force knocking him over, something in front falling first—even more blinding than the sunlight.

Castaway slammed onto something hard but coated in softness. He rolled as silky grass tickled him endlessly. Stopping after a couple of seconds, he turned on the narrow platform, instinctively hugging it, surrounded by whiteness.

The thing, then, crashed into the ground. It rocked through him as he hugged the object harder. Things relaxed afterward. Breathing a breath, he loosened as well, looking across the road of white fluff—seeing the wall in the distance.

Two pools, closed lids, now opening.

At once he was awash in violet. Soft white surrounding a shimmering pink. Two masses of gentleness widening and brightening in curiosity. Both settled on the critter locked to her snout. Far too small to hug the thickness of its center slope.

“Oh dear.” Though they were out of focus and existed on the very edges of his vision, Castaway witnessed the mare's ears, high and sprawling out of view, now, coming down, becoming flat over her neck. “Are you okay sir? I didn't mean to bring you any harm.”

Castaway coughed in dislodging himself from the snout, fighting the compulsion to hold on, to be tight in straddling it.. As he went to rise, though, her muzzle twitched, rocking him greatly, forcing him to hug the muzzle. “No harm at all ma'am. Or I mean Princess Celestia.”

He inhaled deeply. “Always get it wrong.” He looked up into the trained eyes. “But am I supposed to kneel or wave? Or do you do both of 'em in that order?”

Something spread underneath his legs, the muscles beneath the density of the coat, great works pulling to make the lips below stretch into a smile. Air warmed here. Rather her aroma heated the place. “Neither today.”

“That so?”

“Today is my exemption from being a princess.” She nodded, and in that dip, he slid to the tip of her snout. “So please attempt to treat me like any other mare if you can.”

“Like any other mare huh?”

He could feel the smile, now, collecting into a grin, one firing in the opposite direction. Celestia's eyes narrowed with amusement on the tiny. “Aren't you a cute one.”

“Cute? Don't think I've ever had the privilege of being called that in all my life!”

“Then this will certainly be a memory to cherish then!” Her eyes swept left and right in search of something. “Which reminds me. Do you happen to know if the royal order is ready to be carried out at this particular dock?”

“Indeed it is.” Castaway's head dipped left and right in balancing opposing thoughts. “Though might have a few issues in the matter of the prepared platform.” The princess's face darkened as the top of her muzzle inched higher. “N-Not that we don't have everything prepared! Just a few idiots not following the plan and map I'd hung and left a couple of things scattered there.”

Immediately the giantess lightened. “That shouldn't be a problem then. Say. Has the water tower been prepared yet?”

“Indeed it has.” Castaway looked to the right to be reminded of how high they were. In the dock next rocked a freighter. Its middle possessed the polished water tank. That, and thick tubing laid next to it. “Right over there ma'am. Your order said it only needed to remain at the dock for the moment. Hence it hasn't been offloaded.”

“Again that shouldn't be an issue.”

Princess Celestia strained her eyes to do so, but the effort of crossing them was worth it, of course, in seeing the stallion clung to her snout. Vision allowed to rest easy, she pulled from the port, feeling the cool rise on her chest, around her body, hooves far below reaching the ground of the dock.

She backed from the platform to catch her destruction for the first time. Its edge crumbled in with pieces of rock still dripping into the water. Webs cracked across the lane, a metal railing, dislodged from one side, now hung from the other. Most objects required squinted eyes to see. Dots of brown and flattened, glittering things, glossed in yellow.

She would need to make it up to the stallion on her snoot.

But she waded through the water. Massive crashings feeling anything but across her body. There was a nice chill to it all. Warmer on the surface but cooler in going down. The sore spot on her rump, assuaged, by the density of the cooling water. How some of it washed the crevice between, towering cheeks of white, inched apart, just enough to tease the darkened divot inside.

How easily boats could sail into the valley, waves splashing in, a transition to dimness, echoes everywhere. Her larger size before would have been more of a show. Water splashed at the thick swells of the walls. How deep did the valley go? When did the walls bind together, tightly, as to deny further passage?

And when would they clench and destroy the boats that sailed in?

Keep that perversion under wrap.

The mare settled with the chill as her muzzle swung over the back of the freighter. It rested at the port with concrete platforms stretched out to accompany its sides. Ahead was the mainland of the yard consuming a section of the city.

Celestia didn't deal with that yet.

Instead she grinned as her wings unfurled from her sides. The poor stallion on her nose turned, still in his hug, watching as her the tips of her wings settled on the edge of the tank. His minuscule form turned to her. Bound in a smile shooting one way, with eyes lifted in heightened satisfaction, Celestia bore a smugness beyond compare.

Her wingtip snapped up into the underside of the tanker's top. Screeching came the metal as it crunched and bent in a way not intended. Its cover shot like a bottle cap into the sky, twirling and glinting sunlight, flying over the freighter, darkening a saucer on the dock. Little yellow forklifts beeped and fumbled in their driving.

KA-POOSH!

Violently rumbled the ground as it crunched into itself, pieces of concrete floating up, caught without gravity, a crater forming below. Carts bounced into the air and crashed into the ground, fumbling around, shooting off from the scene.

“O-Oh dear.” Celestia inched her head from side to side over the ship, sunlight lathered on her face, eyes squinting to the round trench in the asphalt. Ponies like ants circled the thing as they left their hiding. “Well. It appears none were harmed. Perhaps I should be lighter on the tricks next time.”

“...h-has any stallion survived dating you?”

Celestia's eyes playfully narrowed as her smirk fired off left. Her wingtips swept up the bundle of tubes like they were chopsticks. Easily she broke them apart, the snap like a chime, a ringing keeping in an angelic sound. “There have been a few gallant attempts. But alas. I'm unattainable for most."

She struck the remaining tube into the tanker, allowing it to graze the bottom of the bowl, her other hoof lifting out from the water, hovering over the ship, dousing the decks, washing the walkways, pelting the windows of the cabin with the water dripping from it. She curved a foreleg underneath the bowl, lifting it, snapping it, without meaning, from the metal beams attaching it to the ship.

Which rocked from the contact.

“Why? Do you wish a chance at the sun?” Celestia slid her back legs forward deep within the water as her back fell into the side of the port, softness crunching into the wall, grinding it, as she adjusted herself until comfortable. “Tell you what. If you can survive being in coconut milk without being slurped up—I'll let you take me anywhere.”

Celestia reclined further back to the wagging of her head. The stallion clung tighter from the swings of the frosty bridge. He peered over the end of her snout to the bowl below, cupped like a coconut, revealing the toasty milk inside. Little steam lifted from the scene. “M-Milk? You had milk in there the whole time?”

“Figured I'd deserve a treat after drinking seawater with its unintentional consequences.” Her smirk from before had failed to go away. “So how about it? Do you wish to use my muzzle as a diving board?”

The stallion crawled back, still holding on the snout, from her tip. “Mighty fine offer madam. But afraid you caught yourself a sailor that doesn't know how to swim.”

“Is that so? Such a shame.” Now her smirk died and her shoulders dropped a bit. Still Celestia's head inched into a tilt with a light feeling of mirth. “But you don't mind if I drink this. Do you?”

“Whatever gives my boys long enough to clear that space for you.”

“Is that a comment about my weight?”

“No offence, ma'am, but I feel all that weight you put on—growing big and mighty like—went to all the right places in that regard.”

Heart pumping to a series of jitters rocking. Celestia's eyes tilted up as they looked down at him in amusement. Satisfaction tinged with something else in her expression. “What is your name kind sir?”

“Castaway, your former—only for today—princess.”

“I think I might come to like you, sir Castaway.” Celestia twisted her back on the concrete, looking over the dock and water, catching a glinting, something white, floating on the water. Bubble of magic swept the objects and hovered them close. Greatest squint of the west was needed for the floating miniature bowls. “And I've put you through a touch more trouble than intended. Here.”

The bowls dropped from the sphere and pelted the sea below. Except for the larger one. That dove into the tanker hugged above the floof of the mare's chest, which pinned some of her tuft beneath it. The bowl dived and scooped into the pond of steamy white. It lifted and hovered at the end of her snout.

“Take that and recline with me,” Celestia said, straightening her muzzle, ceasing to move or speak, all to keep still, as the tickles of the stallion rose on her muzzle. He looked back, worried, only to meet her gentle, encouraging, and charmed expression. “Please. It's been a while since I've last not rushed through the morning. Its stillness, of course, is better enjoyed with another.”

It took him a bit. But Castaway nodded. Looking forward and carrying in that direction. Steps petting spots on her snout with the sensitivity rising at the end. Raising a foreleg into the magical bubble, he gasped, suddenly locked, as the bowl descended onto his offered hoof.

Then he was freed.

Castaway turned around only to be stuck frozen. The greatness of the princess's face loomed in the distance. Gigantic and perfect in its proportions. The way those eyes trained on him. Half-lidded and interested. Seeming a thought and a feeling ahead. Mirthful due to his existence.

He nodded, with a turn of the head, avoiding her gaze, one gently heavy on his shoulders. It rang a light quake from the ground, a giggle sounding out, vibrating the land by a little. Castaway chuckled to himself in strolling forward. Seeing from underneath his golden bangs to the face of the mare.

It didn't take him long to reach the cliff composed of furs. Celestia would be strained to see him here, and so, in lifting the tanker below, her lips now searched for the straw. Both eyes on either side looked afar, over the water and the boats within the coast of the city, all to the horizon, to the sun above.

And it was peaceful. Strange to be seeing the world from so high, and it appearing so small. On a titan of a mare as she sat back to watch the miniature world around her. He plopped on his rump and snuggled back into her, the coat, trimmer here, still offering padding, the furs brushing over his sides. Like a vertical field of white grass.

The two relaxed into each other and lost themselves to the scene. Rolled in was the breeze and chilly had the height rendered it. But the aroma coating him. The furs warmed in body heat alone. It caused the stallion to sigh. To want to turn around and slumber on the mare. Comfy and heated and silky that she was.

Yet he kept with the mood instead. Her eyes determined as they set out. Watching the waters with her, the boats coasting to the sides, how, in the distance, the bridge connecting the city loomed. But that determination was set afar. Way out into the water, where there was nothing, no detail, only open space.

The stallion pointed out a hoof there, the speck, somehow, caught in the corner of the massive eye. It turned to flick onto him. He had her attention for a second. “You thinkin' of pickin' a fight with the water there? Or thinking about how you'd like to be a pig in a bath of mud?”

The smile below pulled, lightly, on the land underneath him. “A bit of both my trusted friend. Though... I shouldn't be thinking that far ahead. In fact I shouldn't be thinking at all.” Her lips sipped on the tube, at the delicious milk, half-consciously enjoyed, during their meditative enjoyment of the scenery. “Maybe I am starting to lose that part of myself. Lulu and I... or, I mean princess—“

“H-Hey now! You ain't a princess today.” Castaway tilted the bowl up before his muzzle, sipping from it for the last few moments, now, with it done, chucking it to the side without remorse. It fell and pelted into the water far below. “Now go back and tell me about this Lulu of yours.”

The smile below, now, stretched the ground a little more. “Hmm! Very well.”

It was a bit scary to recline on the muzzle of a mare as she spoke. Little rises during higher syllables. But fear went away in hearing Celestia speak. It accentuated her words. Made Castaway feel along for the ride in hearing her speak. Vibrations through the coat and little tilts rocking him around. Being able to rest into her, though, was a cause for everything to be okay.

“It was back, so far back, when only a few towns constituted all of this kingdom.” Torrents of wind became devoured in Celestia's inhale as she went on with the story. “Work wasn't too demanding of us. Especially when there were two. But we had a pact in the morning. Something formed without words.”

“Those tend to be the best now, don't they?”

“Indeed. I...” Celestia giggled in a soft sway as the waterfalls of mane did the same over her face. Curve fell to the side, suddenly blocking the view to the dock, casting shade over the tiny. “I don't even recall how it began. Maybe I was there one morning or perhaps it was her first. In any case. We met on the balcony once in the time between night and morning.”

Castaway chuckled in crossing his forelegs over his chest, leaning more on the mare, now practically lying back on her—with only his head propped on Celestia. “That the time the night owl meets the morning bird?”

“Indeed little one.” Into the cove of the shadow lifted, from the distance, the tip of a wing. It had been tanning on the dock as the mare rested back. It entered, flying over him, but the stallion couldn't be fussed even by the scale alone. Smooth bone coated in fuzz rubbed into his blond mane. “Together we did our duties. She lowered the moon and I raised the sun.”

The wing pulled out from the cove and fell, out of sight, around the giantess. “And as the two followed on their treks, both of us watched, sipping from our drinks, no words for a long while. Usually those moments are for when sentiments are shared. But the act of being silent and still, alone but not quite, did something kind to the soul. I could lose myself to nature without a thought appearing.”

The bridge of white tilted down, from the horizon to the water below, gravity pulling on the stallion as he slid down several feet. “But it seems that's an ability I've since lost. That, among other livings beyond being a princess.”

Castaway kept in his slide without being able to stop it. He turned around and stomped his hooves into the brushing furs for a hope of a hold. None came and he was close to the edge as the mare's face pushed further away. “C-Celes!”

Those magnificent eyes widened at the voice. They flicked to him and a blush rose beneath him at once. Massive crashing sounded from afar as a round shadow passed over him. His head turned and looked to the clouds to find a dimmed underside of a hoof instead. Rounder than what could be contained within his vision.

It fell onto him, lightly, the edge of the titanic thing. Pinning him with a pressure backed with a sense of pleasure. He was utterly pinned onto the snoot of the mare as her hoof acted like a heavy blanket over the back of his body. Gazing up and afar at the full extent of her worried expression placed him in a state he didn't want to be within.

He pushed into the snoot and lifted, as much as he could, not losing a second more. “Ain't that what the mornings are for? Losing yourself to a thought or problem or somethin' other—only for a splash of sunlight to bring you back right? Calm of the morning isn't about never losin' yourself. It's a matter of fallin' into something, gettin' worried by it, before nature pulls you out of again—makin' ya feel like everything is gonna be alright or somethin'.”

His muzzle scrunched in a wince as he exhaled his next words away. “I'm sorry. Afraid talkin' the profound was never my quirk. But I do think you have nothin' to worry about.” He turned the best he could to see the sun around the curve of the hoof. “So long as you can keep lookin' back to that thing for a bit—you'll be alright even in the thick of it. Plus! You caught me pretty quick alright.”

Celestia's eyes lifted over him to the sun cast over the bridge. She seemed caught in something... before it melted away. Inhales and exhales were relaxed in coming below. Her muzzle became straight and the calm stole her again.

“Mister Castaway?” Her eyes returned to looking down at him at the end of her snoot. “I'm very glad to have met you on my day off.”

“And I am glad to have met you on my day on.”

But then came the unexpected change; the muzzle rolling to the side as the mass of hair crashed the same. His body fell from the bridge and landed on soft grounding. It lightly bounced him as he laid back on the saucer. It lowered, the view of the port, beyond the side of the hoof, raising closer.

Castaway looked down the front of his body as he laid back. In the distance was the princess with the end of her muzzle disappearing, upward, from view. Her chest was exposed to him. The bowl in front of it, taken away, set on the water below, where it would bob, set adrift elsewhere.

He stared at the floof. How much there was and how much he wanted to be tangled up in it. But his perversion was caught. The massiveness of her muzzle settling in to view below it. Eyebrow cocked with lips caught in a smirk. It was seconds before they lurched onto him.

“C-Celestia?” Castaway protected his face with raised forelegs, though the edge of her snout nudged it aside, freeing the whole of him. Before he could think to scramble, her lips were set on him, tons weighing in pure softness, heavy and crushing, always plush in texture. “Hehe! C-Crazy mare!”

The stallion could barely wiggle out as the princess kissed him. Warmed by their temperature and massaged by their substance. Little wetness lathering across him. He didn't fight it after a few seconds. Instead he enjoyed the perks of doing one's job well.

IV | Dressing a Building

~ IV ~

Dressing a Building

Celestia sauntered onto the port without being mindful. Her hooves crunched into the asphalt, water dowsing from them, currents sweeping away the mess. Countless had gathered at the block of the dock. It was big enough to house her.

“Celestia!”

That voice caught her as its whisper blew through a megaphone. In looking down to the side of her hoof, there parked a cart, the ceiling missing, revealing the colt inside. Though he was no more than a blur, in pulling away from the megaphone for a second, his smile could still be felt through the blotch of colours. “My boys did the best they could to clear the space. Still a few oddities left however. Say... you said all this is protected in that grand treasury of yours?”

Celestia tilted her head and watched as the shadow shifted over the lot below. “Personal treasury in this sense. So the least expensive mayhem is preferable.”

“Then I think I got just the right business proposition for ya!” The stallion pointed forward to the ground, and her gaze followed over it, boxes and containers, busted machinery and such composing the block. “Nothing but junk we got left here. And we've got to dress you up nice and pretty once you dry off. All that sound right?”

“Not a word you got wrong.”

“So how's about really cutting loose on your day off?” Celestia looked down to see that cart, as well as the many around it, kicking it into gear. Small yellow boxes drove out and around her legs, which she stumbled around, catching view of all the pests beneath her. “Now tell me!”

Celestia froze with a foreleg raised from the floor, forced to look far left, seeing all the racers, in a line, blasting away. That colt turned in his seat, using his legs to steer the wheel, all while he leaned on the back of the forklift's top. “When's the last time you shook yourself dry like a wet puppy?”

She blinked. Looking to see everyone leaving the scene. Her smile grew naturally as water still flushed from her limbs. In stepping into the middle of it all, she bent all four legs and, unable to repress her happiness—shook and twisted and shifted like an animal caught in the intensity of drying herself.

Celestia felt it. The whips of her mane shooting all over the place. Breaking into containers and launching them flying over the water. The vibrations from the motions crumbling through the ground. Blotches of water shot afar and crashed beyond the crew.

How did it look to them? That was a wonder in closing her eyes. Towering and consuming the port all to wag like a dog in the sun. It was seconds before her ears flicked up. Mirth dressed through her. Fluff... puffier. Mane a little dryer on resting on her neck.

Celestia finished moments after that. Her eyes opened in getting her jitters out. She looked at the line of the crew all standing in amazement of the act. The colt, of course, was first to break from his stance. Walking forward as his coat whipped back. The air smelled like wet and bathed Celestia.

“Feeling better?”

Her head had been lowered to the ground. There the stallion stood in better quality. She smiled at him. “I think I may have developed an appreciation for how you do things.”

He winked. “Mighty glad to hear that. But all that shaking ain't enough to get the job done.” Then smirked. “Mind lying on your side?”

It was much like tucking herself inside a box a little too small for her size. Luna used to do it all the time when she was younger. Some boxes or crates. Anything from a delivery. She'd go inside, to sleep or to play, crafting a fort inside of the thing. Sometimes Celestia would join her, barely, and other times she lifted the box and messed around with the one inside.

Treasured memories.

Celestia laid on her side, aware of how the underside of her barrel consumed the ground, stretching out onto the dock. The ends of her hooves pushed on containers and slid them away. It reminded her of being tucked into bed, sleepily, and kicking the little items on the end of the mattress.

She was aware of those in the yard. How the ends of her legs stacked on each other, presenting, of course, the powerful view requiring a craned neck to see. Her rump. Bibulous in their creamy texture warmed by the sunlight. Fat to every positive connotation possible. Part of her wanted to face the waters instead. Give the passing sailors a sight to see.

But the ones dressing her deserved the treatment more.

At her side arrived a group of little ponies. Each walking backward as the wall of her chest covered them in shade. She became mindful of that. How much it sucked in and puffed out. Fluff expanded greater than she thought. It was a line of pegasi with Celestia's earth pony in the middle.

“Alright bring it in! Highest setting! Try to clear her flanks!”

Castaway glanced up at her from the port. “No offence.”

“Matters of the magnitude of my derriere I take as compliments.” Celestia smiled at him before she was struck into a yelp. Her head swung and hair flew in seeing the steel pushing into her booty. “O-Oh dear.” She inched high to see the ponies rocked on the large, dockside, gantry crane below. “Is everypony alright?”

“Nothing these slackers ain't used to.” The little stallion raised his megaphone to those on the platform of the dock. “Now I know that thing can go another twenty feet in the air. We ain't strapped for time anymore. Stop trying to rear-end her rear end!”

He turned back to her. “No offence.”

“Yet another compliment.”

Soon the gantry crane ascended a little higher, enough to pass over the swells of her rump, a fabric caught in all the hanging cranes. It bore a large towel. It passed over her legs first. Up and over the curve of her bottom. It reached across her barrel until dropping at her neck.

There'd been bickering below. Voices that were nothing more but annoying sounds. Long lines of ponies stacked across the edge of the dock in preparation for the next order. Closer to the mare, though, was a group complaining.

“Called on for my day off for this.” The poor stallion wasn't aware of the muzzle settling behind him. Its immensity unseen as he continued to blather on. “This is ridiculous. Couldn't she use her magic—much less her own hooves—to do all this?”

Her smirk must have looked like a shark to them. The stallions gathered in front of him froze. Swallowing and trying to point. The troublemaker turned and was still after doing so. Frozen by the immensity that was the face of the princess. Her eyes lifted in catching his reflection. How cutely he backed away from her snout. “But where would be the fun in that? Today is my day off as well. And a big gal like me is looking to be pampered.”

The stallion went to say more until a foreleg was thrown over his shoulders. Castaway tucked him to his side as the two strolled away. Celestia pulled away a little, but still watched from above, amused with it all.

“Now son... I've got a bit of a bone to pick with you... and if it weren't for the massive lady—“ the stallion twisted and shouted up to her “—in all the right places of course!—“ he turned back to the stallion in continuing their stroll “—then I would have more to pick with you. Now about that summons. You had a choice to show up for double the pay. You did. But if the work doesn't quite suit you, well, you can always leave and take what you got for showin' up.”

“But—“

“But nothin'!” Castaway pushed the boy forward as the other stumbled and turned around. “Now you can get back in line or you can get your rump home! Everyone! May I have the privilege to introduce you to the great, not a princess for the day, Celestia lacking a last name!”

Celestia loved this. Nothing but a mostly white background. Wide and tall in a smooth slope of fluffiness closer to her front. She could feel the eyes of the groups. Some to how the towel hugged the curves of the posterior. Others to the tuft peeking out near its end. Some were amazed by her face. The casual beauty accompanied by an expression of confidence.

“Lacking,” she started from high behind, “until I take it from the right stallion... or mare.”

“And there you have it fellas! Our chances are now nigh on done.”

Celestia blushed.

“But that doesn't mean we don't get a sacred privilege out of this!” The little stallion turned to the mass of a mare in a gesture to Celestia's totality. “She here needs proper drying before we get her into her uniform! Sure those of you in the mane business know how it works with hair. Scrub it to ruin it. Pat it for care for it.”

Castaway turned around. “Y'know still sure about this ya highness?”

“Told you—“

“‘cause of high up you are.”

“Puns are my business!” Celestia's head shot up and turned left with the visible eye closed. She would have crossed her wings in mock offence if she could. “Now you and your workers will have to work extra well to get me dry.”

Castaway sighed. “Always knew it was my business in getting a mare dry instead of wet.”

Explosions burst through the princess's lips at the joke. Red coloured her cheeks. Mirth tickled beneath her coat. With a laugh was how her head curved to the ground, her forehooves there first, laid over the other. Resting on them, she exhaled, the warm breeze blowing his coat. “Keep up this teasing and I'll tuck you into a place that will be pleasing.”

“Make sure to tuck some moisturizer with me.”

“I don't think I'm the mare your usual troubles will apply to.”

“The one for me is out of my reach in every regard possible?” He chuckled with a wag of his head. “Ain't fate divine.”

Celestia rolled her eyes. “Oh hush.”

It wasn't long before orders had been decked out. Celestia laid on the tops of her forehooves in watching the workflow that was typical of the shipping yard. Pegasus tucked a pony into the bottom of their barrels, the tiny swarm flying over the ascent of the princess's barrel, landing on the sloped field there.

On the crane above worked the unions. Ropes tied around the railings of the machinery, across it, before their lengths were thrown over. Some awaited at the base of the belly. On the ropes pooling on the ground, they grabbed it, climbing up the bottom curve of the tummy, their tickles borne everywhere.

“Mmhmm... I must say... that... having the world... work on you... is a nice change of pace.” Celestia blew out a blissful sigh in feeling the work across her; there'd been a collection of ponies on her side, all of them leaping on the towel, all to dry the coat underneath. “Oh yes. Being pampered suits me far better.”

“Nothing beats sunbathing in a towel.”

Celestia opened her eyes to the tiny group before her muzzle. Forklifts bumbled past behind them and parked at their sides. Their drivers stood out, a crowbar to open the crates, nothing but ropes underneath. They stepped away as the pegasus stepped in.

“Any problems so far Celes?”

“Not a complaint.” A sleepy yawn slipped through her lips. Her chin above those gathered below. It made the view cute. “Only those drying my rump are very passionate about their work.”

Many there stood on the squishy edge. Rope tied around their waist and looking down the plump swells below. All rappelled down, one after the other, legs pushing into the towel, sinking easily to the squish behind it, the voluminous texture stretching the article by a little.

After sinking as much as they could, the tush pushed out in those impressions across it, repelling the ponies into the air. They were pushed out further into the air. The enormity of the booty filled their vision as they swung away. Until, of course, they flew back into it.

They came hard into it sometimes. Little pelts to jiggle the cheek. Sinking deeper and pushed out harder. This increased as the swell became thicker in its descent. Firmness so taut as only those with great momentum could press an inch into the round surface.

A lot of them bounced in place, the brave ones descending the deepest between the cheeks, some wanting to get lost in the valley between. Celestia's body was drying at least. The hundred peltings and tickling and rubbing across her monolithic frame was appreciated. “But nothing I'm not enjoying.”

“Mighty happy to hear that.” Castaway stood before her with a nudge to the lined pegasi. “Going to have my boys here rope your neck down a bit. Now nothin' tight! Just for them to be able to climb around it and scrub.”

“So long as you help with my muzzle—I don't see much of a problem with that at all.”

“Heh! Knew I'd get roped in somehow.”

“At least you're not being roped down.”

“True say.”

The ropes were thrown over the slope of Celestia's neck, each a great many feet apart, tied to a lock on the other side. The pressure lax into her neck to the point of being hardly noticeable. Many disappeared into her mane. Caught inside the world of hair. Each working on the vines from inside.

Celestia took a moment to enjoy it all. Workers rappelling down her ass and bouncing on it for the sake of drying it. The same to those across her side. Some hopping and others on their knees working into the coat on the other side. There'd come a carriage after a while, turning to her with a ramp at its back, a flooding of mares and stallions, manes glossed and vests worn, stylists from all around.

Each of them swarmed around the mane pooled on the ground, four forklifts, two on either side, facing each other. The first two drove their prongs underneath the hair to raise it. The other two, holding the ends of a long brush, lowered it into the mane. In a formation, all drove, brushing it all.

Much more activity occurred out on the dock. But it was all blurs to the mare. Rather Celestia focused on the stallion climbing the side of her muzzle, kicking above her lips—having hoisted himself on their corner. With a roll of her eyes, she smiled, carrying him as they bunched, all the way to the edge of her muzzle.

From there he worked. And she watched. Tilted her muzzle a little to keep him on his hooves.

It didn't take long for the job to get done. It was a mixture between the effort of the workers and the incessant sunlight. Most rappelled off her body and more cranes had been rolled onto the scene. Few ponies, though, going down her rump—had slipped into the crevice between her flanks.

And it took a lot of wiggling to get them out.

“And done!” Castaway stumbled back on her muzzle with a rag in his teeth. He turned back to the massive eyes behind. “Gotta say. Never expected this place to become a Giant Mare Cart Wash today. But certainly... a new business I'll have to look into.”

“Indeed you may,” Celestia replied, “if today remains as joyous as it has.”

“Only bound to get better from here.” Castaway cocked an eyebrow. “Say? You mind planting that snout of yours into the ground? Wanna see how this muzzle of yours acts like a slide.”

“You're a colt.”

“And you're nothin' more than a gigantic filly!”

“But in all the right places?”

“In all the right places.”

Celestia didn't fight in tilting her muzzle to the ground. Slope of her snout arched and, at once, the boy slid down it. Snowy coat, smooth enough, for him to slide in standing up. He lunged at the end, flying a few, rolling on hitting the ground, bouncing up, stumbling across the ground in catching himself.

He breathed heavily in turning to face her. “This world is gonna cry if you finally get married.”

“I wouldn't ruin anyone's dreams like that.”

Castaway smirked with a nod. “Atta girl.”

The next stage of being dressed was a little bit more complex. The waters splashing onto the port were the backdrop of the late-morning. Celestia had risen a little, stretching the cables across her neck, without realizing, until they snapped violently to whip in the air.

Across the length of her barrel and over the swell of her rump, a stacking of containers had been present, heaps of fabric stacked to the sides, in a formation, a skirt, when unfolded, able to cover a golf course.

With naval panties next to it.

Stallions and mares dared around the articles. Looking over the expanse of their tops, some peeking their heads through the holes, seeing the thin, dim, silky field inside. Would any of them crawl inside? Explore and check around? Or maybe hide for the moment they were tried on?

Would they shuffle more to the front or rest in the broadness of the back?

It was sprawling out of the hanger where the socks were laid. The gantry crane dropped its beams over their fronts. Ponies below clipped the ends into the roundness of the article. From there the gantry drove forward, toward the giant mare, pulling the socks across her hind legs.

The work had doubled as its flow reached intensity. Pairs of pegasi flew with brushes and buzzed around the princess's eyes. They swept down her eyelashes, one by one, working them into perfection.

Another group had been set on her horn. Spray bottle and rag acting as polish across the magical cylinder. Someone else worked on her lips. Another on her eyelids. Once the socks had gone on her back legs, the panties were next, slid across the legs, over the slope of her rump, settling, roughly, into place.

Ladders had been the next thing to come as they rested at varying heights on her rump. At each side of her underwear, like a loose bridge of fabric, were the clasps set to connect to the top of the socks. On the ladders climbed up the unicorns. Pegasi, of course, floating behind their ascent.

“Think the crew going in now has to be the luckiest one yet.” Celestia's eyes fell from the side of her rump and focused on the end of her snout. Concentration was required to see the back of the stallion sitting there. “Can't say that I don't envy them a little bit.”

Celestia smiled at the pestering of the pegasus working on her lips. “Is that so? Surely you could end your break early! Lead the workers to the kind of world that exists in the back of there.”

“Not much an earth pony can do in the tasks of stretching your underwear out.”

“Really? Because I could imagine a fair bit you could do back there.”

“Think you must be the first mare to quite literally want me in the back of her underwear.”

“Back of my panties sounds a lot cuter.” Both of them looked to the titanic swell of her backside that was blurry in the distance. It rose high. Maybe higher than Castaway could see. “Perhaps there are a lot of other spots you would be more comfortable? Top of my stockings? Maybe the bottom of them?”

“Always liked a girl that walks all over me.”

“Stealing my puns again! If you don't choose—I'll stuff you down one of the many options soon.”

“And you want me to ruin the surprise of that happening?”

Meanwhile, the crew docked on the white fuzzy lands of the mare's barrel. Once all accounted for, the leaders of the squads, each composed of size, approached the brim of the underwear. The rump was straight and would be facing the same for the rest of the operation.

The unicorns ignited their horns in a magical glow, all of them morphing together into a multicoloured convergence, one passing onto the brim of the underwear. In their strand, the border lifted from the coat—teasing the cool, dim, and vast cavern within.

The three squads followed in individual lines as they marched into the underwear. Grounding was first to transition. From soft and relaxed to becoming incredibly squishy. Everything dimmed as well as curved walls loomed so far to the sides. In the dimness was the tops of whiteness incredibly jiggly. In so much that every step was swallowed to the ankle in doughy masterworks.

Princess Celestia had been instructed to lay on her stomach more for this. She did so with her snout crashing into the water below. Castaway was forced to break the surface, treading in place, glaring up at the mare with a scowl for his wet clothes.

Celestia responded by sticking her tongue out—and then chasing him with it in the water.

Way behind her head, though, with her flanks as straight and up as possible, the teams inside worked to straighten out the article. It'd been slipped between her legs and pushed on and over her rump. Hard as the crane could push forward before the density of the bunched squish was too great.

From there it was left to the ground troops.

Inside the underwear in the dimness of the clothing, teams occupied spots on squishy terrain, three each, one on both cheeks, the third poised over the top of the divot. It sprawled down as its surface was caught between the pressed cheeks. The broadness of the swells pushing out on either side.

And the fabric clung to the volume of the flanks.

Remember! The princess is mighty kind in letting strangers in a place they REALLY don't belong! Down and outward across the objectives of greatness. Any of you fools caught going straight down can be guaranteed of being stuffed into the princess's personal gulag until the end of your days.

...and no! That ain't an invitation for you to be going after that either!

Problem with stuffing underwear on a gigantic princess was, once you got it on, there came the matter of getting the fabric to conform to the curves of hills. Unicorns lifted their horns from either cheek, their power becoming light on the ceiling, spreading out the fabric.

From there the pegasi flew in. Flying with the curves of the underwear and pushing it out downward. Over the swells of the snowy rump for how much of the cheek that would fit within it. Even at this size—the princess had gone a size too small.

Those in the middle, though, were instructed to pull out the fabric riding into the cleft of the immeasurable cliff. Unicorns pulled on the clumps that were caught between the cheeks. The pegasus flew down, some a little deeper into the divot, into the piles of silk, flying into them to push them out.

Everyone worked slowly though the progress was steady. Those on the outside watched as the panties comfortably stretched over the frosty mountains. Some were saddened to see the boundless bottom become hidden behind the veil of thick silk. But once the cheeks settled into the hold of the underwear—stretched it out immensely.

And with how much those panties hugged the magnitude of that ass.

Everyone was less saddened.

Meanwhile.

Back at the water.

Celestia continued to lap at the cool water as the sunlight glimmered the pool. Castaway rode the waves every time and suddenly his name was starting to make sense. In hearing the power of industry cranes come to life, though, the giant mare quickly slurped the tiny stallion in her maw—turning back to the port.

Water dripped from the sides of her lips as there was fumbling in the pool inside her maw.

Cranes on the sides of the dock buzzed as they turned. Their hooks swung into the clasps of her socks, the machines roaring as they rose, the golden metal lifted, that was, until reaching the same to the hanging straps of the underwear. Ponies on ladders guided the hooks in before starting the process of fastening them.

“Out of all the places you could have tucked me away,” came the muffled and echoed voice coming not from around, but rather, inside of her muzzle. Celestia's eyes focused on her snout with a growing blush. “I didn't think this place was one of them! Your tongue is like a sea monster with how it's lurking below the water and—HO!”

Celestia shot her tongue out and looked at its end, where the Castaway hugged its edge, barely hanging on. “Muawh bwad.”

Castaway pulled himself over the edge and rolled onto the rubbery appendage. It warmed his back with its velvet texture. Wet and slick though already those things from the swim before. He sighed and rolled his head—looking at the princess. “Don't mention it. Ever. Not going to be able to live this one down at the bar afterward.”

Celestia spat him out like a lady onto the ground. Once the work on her rump had completed, underwear and socks connected, ladders resting into the squish of her butt now pulled away, the princess had been instructed to roll onto her back.

She did so faster than what seemed possible. Those consumed within her shadow ran for their lives—some hopping onto the bolting forklifts to make their great escape. The ground fractured in bearing the titanic turn.

Those caught in the valley between the silky legs and before the immensity of the staggering derriere were silent and compelled toward the art of painting. Over those legs glinted the hooks of cranes as they swung over the thickness of the thighs. Pegasi flew with them as they landed on the lower belly of the princess.

From there, they guided the hooks underneath the brim of the underwear, the cranes pulling up and right on them. Ensured the panties were snug to the mare's hips, they continued the process, around, the princess rolling a little each time, loving every second of it.

Celestia had been kind enough to fit herself into the top as the crew assembled all the cranes to lift the remaining skirt. Now resting on her forelegs with her rump stuck up, the princess felt the dome of the shadow, the skirt lowering over her bottom, another set of ponies there, waving it down and around, finding it down and around.

They'd tied cables around her tail. Each of them connected in its downward trek to the hanger afar. Once the hole of the skirt had been passed through the tail and a set of cables, a crew would go in and release them, leaving to slide the skirt on some more, the process repeating.

It didn't take much longer for the princess to be dressed; the afternoon approaching by the time they were done. Celestia could feel the aching in her bones to get up and out and exercise herself. Once the zone had been clear for walking, she went to stand, however, stopped for a second more by a shadow.

Her eyes looked up to see the inside of a cap. Her head darted out with eyes peeking up from its side. Castaway was in the crane and waving her on with a grin. She returned it with a smirk in keeping still. Soon the naval hat was lowered onto her head and, of course, given a tad of a tilt for personality.

Now it was time for Celestia to rise from the port, a light crater forming around her hooves, the added pressure felt by those close to them. The mare didn't notice as she arched high above. Her eyes settled on the tallest crane in the dock—still forced to let go.

It was quite a sight for Castaway as he was inside the cubicle. He leaned back into the chair with his legs up and crossed over the lever. Forelegs did the same at the back of his head. Through the glass was the widescreen to the face of the giantess. Those confidently narrowed eyebrows accumulated by the brim of her cap.

“The world is your oyster, commander.” Castaway gave a mock salute. “Whatever in tarnation that means.”

“I must say, my Castaway, I will miss this dearly.”

“Bah! Go have yourself some fun!” His hooves limply dropped to his sides. “Go crush a cart and knock over a building. Decimate a street and rock the stuff you've been wanting to show off for so long.” He rolled and cracked his head with a summoning of a yawn at his lips. “Celestia knows... uh.... I mean...” Castaway coughed and blushed and turned his head before trying again. “Goodness knows, I mean, that tomorrow is going to be chaos for us. Lotta new material going to be shipped here. Better rest now while I can.”

“Maybe, perhaps, I could bring you—“

“And worry about me? Go have yourself some true fun and don't look back.” Castaway watched as her muzzle turned, her cheek washing over and filling the screen. Faint red the closing of the eye over it. “Don't you sweat that head of yours thinking of it being anything else. I'd gladly wrestle a giant mare. But first you have yourself a day of enjoying being one—ya hear?”

Celestia looked back at him and words could not encompass the beauty behind the glass. The massiveness of her features amplifying all great with them. Soft expression and half-lidded eyes. That small smile despite her size. The naval cap framed everything. Her dense and chromatic mane swept and tucked behind the hat. The look of assurance. A lady fully rocking her stuff.

How could one not fall in love with that?

There'd been a rumbling outside the crane as the giantess stepped closer. Celestia leaned in. Eyes closing in drawing her muzzle to the glass. Her lips mounting it, awash over every inch, the plush whiteness now his everything. Castaway leaned forward with a chuckle, but silent inside, swept away by it all.

The lips pulled back to the immensity of the face again. One of her eyes had been covered by her mane. The other, though, opened slowly, seeing him dumbfounded—and covering a hoof over her mouth to laugh.

The mare turned around and strolled out through the yard, every step slow, thunderous, rocking the world a little. Castaway bolted out from the room and onto the metal walkway. He saw out to the side of the mare's barrel, dressed, now, in a sailor outfit with chest-fluff peeking through the front of its opening.

The feminine structure had slowed at the exit of the yard. She looked over at him from afar. Seeing him nearly hanging over the railing had evoked another laugh from her. The tip of her horn started to glow. Cloud of gold. The same field appeared underneath the helm of her skirt.

Which lifted up.

The broadness of the naval-striped underwear had been dimmed underneath it. Now, though, sunlight illuminated some of it. Something slid out from a pocket inside the skirt. Sheet of paper, a card rather, though one of her size.

“What's this? Not much of my kiss remains on that glass of yours,” Celestia said while staring at him, the hem of her skirt falling over her rump, that card floating below her eyes. Golden fires inscribed into the paper as its magic splashed out. “I must really like you, Sir Castaway.”

A tube of scarlet and translucent magic appeared and glossed over the curve of the mare's lips. It zapped out of existence after the princess rolled her lips together—a sheen of red dressing them. “Because I do not recall the last time I wore lipstick for anyone.”

Princess Celestia then closed her eyes in lifting the card, kissing its corner, a soft intensity to the thing. She pulled back with satisfaction and wiped her mouth on a foreleg. Patch of white fur now with its tips faintly red.

With her furthest eye focused on him, the princess narrowed it sweetly, ending the magic and blowing on the card. It whipped through the air, aided by the boom of her laugh, as the mare turned around. Her massiveness strode out from the yard with an accentuated sway to her hips.

Those at the gates far below, though, were forced to break the glass, vaulting out through the window of the office, at the mare, so interested in giving a show, that she forgot to check the land below. The gate and building, flattened in a step, as the round hoof zoomed out and on ahead.

Castaway watched the rump and how it shook, the flouncing of the skirt, waves of its fabric dancing, a casual swing over the twisting and shifting flanks beneath it. Finally her form darkened and blurred as it ascended the steep hedge afar, climbed in a single step, to the hints of towering buildings high and on the horizon.

The sheet of paper touched the ground below. Castaway blinked in seeing it cover the center of the dock. Crowds formed around it already. He frowned at the dots forming around it. Shuffling to the ladder, he slid down, barking at the scene. “Hey! You all get away from there! Royal business association only!”

The wind cut upward and the smoothness of steel burned into his hooves. Castaway's strength barely went for much. Hence the desire to be born as someone else. In hitting the ground a little too quick and forced to hop around on impact, he wobbled and swayed from side to side.

He fought he would have to fight to make it to the scene.

But the crowd opened in a lane before him.

“Hey! Everyone get lost now! You read your family's mail—aw shoot.” Castaway shook his head in strolling—more so limping—to the bottom of the card larger than a cart. “Most of you probably do. No honour. Zero character. The lot of you!”

He sighed and shook his head. There was a desire to not read the card. Like a gift that continued to excite before it opened. Knowing it was there and waiting and from someone to be admired. It stole his mind and his breath and a touch of his heart. “But y'all are hard workers. Everyone earned a paycheck today. Unique use of machinery and professionalism in spots I was worried I'd lose a few colts. And mares. Just about everyone really.”

Finally his eyes swept onto the card.

The text had been gold and burned into the page with the finest cursive read in his life. So much so that he had to cock his head and blinked to make it work out. It pushed him, so much more, that his hooves pointed underneath the word as he read across—sometimes going back on struggling with a syllable in his head.

Castaway.

The wishes I wish to express to you are countless.

But I find they can be encompassed in one.

See me tomorrow?

~ Your Celestia ♥

Castaway stumbled back from the writing and wasn't sure what to make of it. Turning into his shoulder, he exhaled on it, checking his breath. His eyes shot up to his bangs and, as blond as they were, had been dirtied and not washed for a while. Much less styled. The same true for the rest of him.

He turned to the crowd to find them lined in rows behind him. Each was in a salute despite it not being custom in this line of work. His shoulders slumped and he sighed. Yet his smile and his laugh, the lightness in his expression, all of it served to make him feel alive.

“Don't suppose one of you fools has gone to the castle at all? Y'know... as a guest?”

Everyone shook their heads in synchronization.

“Any fool willing to pitch a fund for this fool? Enough to get the hair greased and a tuxedo fixed?”

“Don't you have to go into the city that's about to get knocked over for that?”

“I'll make sure the mare doesn't see me gettin' pretty before then.”

“You sure it's even worthwhile?”

“Sure it's worthwhile?! That’s jealousy talkin' there!”

“Hey! The card! Something's coming through on the other side!”

It was true. Everyone looked to the card to the magical show of gold glowing on the card pressed to the ground. With a nudge of the head, the staff were commanded to a side, the one with the massive lips kissed into it.

The card rose high and flipped onto its front. Its back laid exposed to them all. It was a drawing this time—and a moving one. The drawing was only of Celestia. Her head loomed far away, looking at them from the side, the full extent of her rump, cheeks devouring the page, bouncing left and right.

Rump swung left and Celestia stuck out her tongue from the right.

Derriere swept right and Celestia stuck out her tongue from the left.

Sometimes the bottom periodically rested in the middle, Celestia's head tilted back over her spine, mane now spilling down her neck. She stuck out her tongue, upside down, keeping there like it was the end of a loop. Between the naked cheeks, though, something else was being etched into existence.

And Castaway had the wisdom to dive over the spot, coming to glare at those around, barking at them. “Get lost! The lot of you! I ain't gettin' up until this space is clear! Now move! Shoo! And leave me some bits in the office when you're done—I know y'all got paid well today! Cause I'm the one paying you!”

Everyone laughed as the rump swung to the right again, out from beneath him, teasing all to the sight, not fully accurate, but, without a doubt, a hundred percent appealing. The stallion rose and chased at the lot.

And they ran, falling into craters and climbing out, others avoiding cracks in the ground, knowing the luck of the day, now, was already bad. Castaway was like a guard dog in protecting the card. In standing there alone, he sighed, looking for a forklift—or another thing to roll the card so it could fill his backyard after work.

As the stallion got to work.

The mare existed somewhere afar, no longer seen, but still felt, in the lightness that rumbled through the ground. The afternoon would be a strange one for countless reasons. But as the morning had been terrible. The afternoon, now, was looking to be wonderful.

For a select few of course.

VI | Stallions and Drinking and Mares and Planning

~ VI ~

Stallions and Drinking and Mares and Planning

The bartender shook his head and mopped behind the counter, able to step around the shards of broken bottles, the afar storm of thuds, knocking through the store, all that was precious on the floor. None else had come to visit due to that. First slow day in Manehatten.

Until the front door chimed.

"Careful on your way in."

Heavy hoofsteps paused at the entrance. The stallion sounded like he was whipping his head around. "Little fancy and classy with your bars in the city. What is this? Maze to navigate your way safely to the stool?"

"Unique experience that's exclusive to the day." The bartender stabbed the wood into the ground, leaning onto it, wheezing a breath. "Just don't tell the city about it. They're not fond of surprises like these to the customers."

"Oh." The stallion chuckled as his hooves danced across the floor, one panel to another, a slide and a jump, adventuring as though the ground were lava. "Don't you worry 'bout that. Far worse I could complain to— and it's cause of that fact, suddenly becomin' the case for me, that my mouth is as good as clipped."

"Not sealed?"

"There should be some clever retort I have to that," the voice sounded closer to the cracking of hooves on wood, "and yet I got nothin'." The bartender finished mopping and looked over the counter in time to see the stallion pull a stool from it, setting in on the ground and settling on top of it, a few twists, of course, to get comfortable. "You forget that and I'll remember to not remember any notion of health and safety violations to my special friend."

"That includes the drinks?"

The stallion laughed while fishing a hoof underneath his hat, searching for something, a click followed by clattering of coin. He tossed the sack onto the counter to the tapping of his hoof afterward. "So long as it's not too low beneath the counter."

The bartender grinned in bending low and biting the neck of a bottle. His customer looked over his shoulder to the pane of glass that encompassed a wall. Wide and tall and the size of the room itself. He chuckled at the empty street. "And since it's just us lawbreakers—have a glass for yourself."

"You're far too kind, Mr..."

"Castaway." The stallion cocked his head in a nod to the click of teeth and a wink of an eye. His hoof pushed the sack forward and pulled the offered drink back. Golden strands gleaned over his eyes. "And I forget your name?"

"Ink Pot."

"Names away to drinks ahoy!"

Glasses clinked and liquids spilled and condensed fires dried already-dried throats. Both stallions dropped their heads to the struggling of the drink, enduring with clenched eyes and turning faces, braving it, freed from the spell as the vileness settled in their stomach.

"S-So." Ink coughed and then hacked with a turn of his head, his muzzle buried in his shoulder, coming to speak muffled from there. "Special friend huh? That mean a lady?"

"Buddy there." Castaway chuckled to himself in a fashion that built on his attraction, leaning in close, drunk on multiple causes, to his fellow stallion. "This gal is the lady of all ladies. Qualities they all want to have. Ain't no words for it. Just one heck of a mare. Proper mare. Real mare. Whole bunch of other words ending with mare."

Ink chuckled in a fashion growing to laughter. "Just be sure this mare doesn't turn into a nightmare." His chuckles ended. "Sounds like you've got a crush though."

"Like an empty soda can." Castaway shook his head and rapped the counter, earning another pouring of drinks, the two, enduring that blazing hell again. Head threw back to then fall slowly forward. Laughs spewed from both once more. "You'd never expect a feller like me to strike it with royalty—don't even know what lit the match. She told me to see her tomorrow. Figured I could attempt to freshen up."

Ink went to pour the third drink but, as he went to do so, stumbled back, the drink pouring from counter to floor, the mess, previously mopped: returned. He looked down through tiny glasses and, even though those with scrawly faces were easily irritated—the stallion merely laughed at the irony. "Hehe! Maybe she enjoyed the dirtied boy look?"

Castaway shook his head and nearly lost it in the motion. He was smiling in fond memory of a delightful past. Hoof propping his cheek as he leaned into it. "Maybe dishevelled—but dirt and filth have no appeal. Even if she didn't mind... tainting a coat as white as a cloud don't seem right."

"Ha! Point there." Ink wobbled in place and his face narrowed in confusion to the clues dropped. Something should have clicked but failed to do so. He was happy and tipsy and didn't crave for it to end. "So what? City for a wash-up?"

"Aye." Castaway's snout flicked up to allow his eyes to rise to the bartender. "Need the freshness of a breeze to make it clean on this. Swept hair and dashing suit with a touch of a shave. Need to look royal-like myself. Somethin' close to that at least."

"Can't go as you are now?"

"Again. Maybe she don't mind. But tainting perfection don't seem right."

"Perhaps."

"So... how about it? Know a place to get a suit and a tie and a place where they do your mane nice? Bits ain't exactly an issue—but nothing to open a second mortgage over." Castaway's snout dived across the counter, the miniature lake of whiskery across it, lips opening for a lick. "Need to be a class-up for a moment. Just so I don't make a fool outta myself—or embarrass her terribly."

Ink's muzzle lowered. "Maybe there are a few spots I could suggest. Even a discount if you mention yours truly." Passing shadows came from the window and swept across the shop, darkness settling, the two snuffed out from light. Booms donated closer to the scene. "Oh dear. Not again. Not those terrible earthquakes again."

The tip of Castaway's tongue hovered inches from the alcohol but, at that word, looked up to the bartender. "Earthquakes. Is that what you think it is?"

The bartender blinked. "Why... what else could it be."

The answer became clear.

Tremendous hoofsteps quaked beyond the walls of the establishment, which vibrated to the intensely of the passing motion, coming to rattle through the floorboards. Glass tittered together as stools knocked from the counter. Castaway leaned over it, sighing, his date always so close.

"What in Celestia is—"

"Exactly that partner."

Beyond the window to the sidewalk and street and island and road and sidewalk again, all of that space, to the sideways stretch of buildings—there came the eclipse of the white moon. Transition unseen as snowy volume consumed the scene. Mountainous flanks slapping onto the ground, deepening in every clap, squish shooting until spreading out. Columns of thighs were on either side as they shot up into an arch.

The bartender panicked.

Castaway, however, pointed to the ceiling, lazily, as the other looked up. "Give it a few seconds for the rain to sprinkle in—and you may not want to look up."

The suggestion was latte as something tremendous settled across the roof of the building, the back of hind legs, resting there, with the rest shooting up. Dust sprayed from the crooks in the ceiling and splashed onto the bartender. He blinked and screamed and dashed behind the counter—slipping on the booze, spinning in the air, crashing onto his back on landing.

That ain't swell.

Something didn't feel right. That mare was a teasing machine—and deserving of it. In looking over his shoulder, he saw the rump behind, scooting forward, softness tearing across the asphalt. The interior of Celestia's skirt caught onto the corner of the building. Inside was the massive bottom heading to the building. Crashing into it, the clothed vulva, mounting on the glass, which groaned from the weight.

Shrunk herself a little more—didn't she? Here I thought the mare would use the city as a playground. She even know we're in here, gettin' this view? Does she do this with everyone? Wait... does she plan on havin' multiple dates tomorrow?

His shoulders dropped at the possibility of being one among the hundred to show up at the castle with an invitation. The thought killed him a bit. It made sense. Mare that perfect could have anyone and anything. Her clothed vulva continued to bulge into the glass, mounds flattened against it, heated darkness summoned from it.

There was a divot in the fabric, a hammock warmed with a touch of dampness, its arch treasured in femininity. Softness rising on either side with a promise of sinking further in coming to wiggle rest in that slit.

And yet the boy couldn't be happy with the view of the girl.

"What is it? Why is everything dark? Is something parked against the glass."

Castaway shovelled a hoof into his face in turning back. Looking to the counter, he set his hoof to the booze. "Everything's dark cause you thought it was wise to dust your eyes over. Now just and open your mouth. Got a little something to make it better."

He pushed forward what he could of the liquid.

It dripped.

And.

"Ah! My eyes! You poured that into my eyes!"

"And just why in tarnation were they open?"

"I got confused!"

"About which feeling opens your eyes or your mouth?!"

Castaway sighed for a larger one to drop and rock on the roof overhead. Shifting titanic body that leaned the establishment to the sides. Celestia must have been down as well to be like this. Sitting one out with her panty-bottom to be snuffed into glass. Feeling that thickly-curve grind a little into the building.

It was quite a view to see nothing but underwear covering the expanse of the window. Little bit of the cheeks out through the brim of its holes. Clumped white, flattened, into the window as well. Periodically shifting to a strangely beautiful squeaking.

The big mare reading a tiny newspaper.

Maybe even sipping a barrel of booze.

Her back, stacked, into the front of all those buildings.

"Date with the princess... still a date with a princess... right?"

"My eyes!"

"Mind whining a little softer?" Castaway groaned. "Already doing it loudly in my mind."

The guards did not know whose authority to submit to, standing before the spire of the Crystal Empire, told to not allow subjects inside, of any kind, due to the waking news of the princess of all princesses.

Rulers of the Empire—Cadance really—had said no to guests.

"I'm going to walk past you lot now," Luna had said from between them, never breaking in her gait, assured that nothing could go wrong, "and you won't do anything."

Each silver-helmeted stallion looked at each other. Detaining was easy though harder in the case of an alicorn—much less another princess. Did one princess have more sway over another princess? They subscribed to the Crystal Empire, of course, and were not part of the Royal Guard.

Yet they were a portion of the nation loyal exactly to that.

In short.

Whose finely-rump were they supposed to kiss?

Luna walked past the pair with a long swing to her hips, which was born from the satisfaction of holding power in places where, really, she did not. Those guards even turned and watched her enter the leg of the spire. Eyes on the backside to the little tucked-between rubbings of her flanks.

Quite the few this morning. I'll have to return the favour. Thinking the greatness of your backside entitles you to do as you please. Just you wait. Soon you'll see being only gets you so far... while doing gets you a little bit more.

The stairwell swirled and spiralled upward to a blurring height. Luna continued her walk of superiority as it was reflected in the crystal of the twirl. However, after several flights, the mare could not hold it much longer. Soon she returned to normal and, at reaching the top steps, stopped, sitting down and taking a breath, sweating a little and panting a lot.

How the devil does she maintain that plush figure, and yet, keep in prime physique?

Luna fawned a wing to wave little breezes across her muzzle, realizing in seconds the futility of such things, getting hotter, tired, in a couple of seconds; arrogance brewed ignorance, which all royals, ironically, fell victim too.

You have a horn you moppet.

Luna's shoulders fell. How did her sister recover from mistakes and embarrassments without a loss to being self-assured? Easily mocking herself and unable to hold true satisfaction, while her sister, drunk the beams she’d cast herself.

Celestia was self-sustaining on her own greatness.

You'll get your revenge. Now cast the spell! We need to be primed for... wait. Why not grow and do as Celestia had on Cadance? Then used the feelings from that to win her over to your side and—I'm terrible smart the second it's too late... aren't I?

Luna clenched a hoof—if that, somehow, was possible—and cast it to the air. Below swirled the blue of water as its beams twirled over her back and travelled in a stripe across her belly. It was a freshen-up spell. Something invented when the make-up artist had come late or not come at all.

To even greater revenge on you!

But first.

To convince Cadance to also desire revenge upon you!

Meanwhile in the royal bedroom—one for it's size, two for the ponies it housed, and third for some other reason—the princess of love was fussing over the one held for the stallion nearly to lose it for her. Or, rather, for the chance for it to be weakened.

Cadance laid and was draped over the edge of the bed, torso handing over with pink forelegs holding out a copy of Macro Mares, head cocked cutely to the side, eyes blinking as they read and passed over images. Mane frazzled from the readings of all the magazines left across the bed.

Her lips pushed far too the left in settling on one image in particular. I can't tell if her rump is bigger than mine. That city around it looks awfully small. Maybe it's the effect rather than the actual size that counts? Shining has been looking at mine a lot less ever since that game.

Cadance's belly came to flex as she leaned up, waterfalls of mane falling around her head, her eyes set across the landscape of her underside. Nothing special worn today. Fluffed tuft seeing over and down to the messy furs of her barrel. White underwear cupped her flanks and its brim barely dressed over her delicates. The waistband hugged before her and delicately squeezed what little pudge the slender mare possessed.

Then a thought stole her from sightseeing.

Shiny's has made me as strange as he in all of this, hasn't he? Would I have been willing to look at other gigantic mares before all of this? Much less comparing rumps and scenarios and what his ideal type is?

She let out a huff with dull eyes.

Thank goodness none of the pages are stuck together. Though the black circles over some images and the bookmarks on certain pages is a tad distressing. I barely won him back from Celestia during that game of ours. I want his love and lust for me, always, to be an assurance.

Her eyes narrowed.

I've already fought off my fair share of mares for you.

Cadance fell back again. Dropping this magazine as a paper floated into her hooves. It wasn't done magic of her own, yet she looked at the page, disheartening at once. It was of a massive rump like a soft block, crashed into the front of a building, pieces exploding from it, jiggles caught in a frame across the cheeks.

Only the underwear had been white instead of golden this time.

Shining's favourite is black on white. I'm screwed once she figures that out. Where did this paper come from anyway?

"Has Shining's enjoyable curse set upon you as well?"

Everything on Cadance clumped inward. "Ever wonder why we even bother with guards? The maids are more effective at this point."

"Indeed. Dealt with an upbeat and useless lot this morning." The paper raised from Cadance's upside-down eyes to reveal the mare on the other side of the room, who kept her distance with a tilted to the floor, seeing a colt's questionable collection scattered across it. "Is this the reasoning for no guests this afternoon? I'm sure Prince Shining would be rather pleased to find his mare so engrossed with the art of finding us gigantic."

Cadance dropped the newspaper and its pages spread on hitting the ground. "What are you doing here?"

"Whaaaat? An aunt can no longer surprise her niece with a visit? How the times are changing!" Luna's voice dripped with raspy emotion, and yet, on the turn of her face, it revealed total manipulation. "Or how a certain few are getting older! You have been rather distressed as of late—have you not? Or is this summoning of materiel revealing both sides to the Princess of Love?"

"More sides the merrier." Cadance's growing grin was powered in the winning of this little game. "Though hard to understand from someone who comes from none." She struck out her tongue as wisps of mane fell across her face.

Who did this mare think she was? Perhaps she was an older princess—another use of an insult—and the sister of Celly. Yet Luna had this way of looking down at others without citing the cause to be so above everyone.

In short.

Luna picked on Cadance.

And it was only recently.

The younger mare came into her own in the legendary rivalry existing between all the princesses.

"My rump is bigger."

"Because it's doughy and fat on fat."

"Still larger."

"Except no underwear hugs it well."

"Shall we see how well yours does on you?"

"So easy in asking to see my bottom—should I flag my tail for you as well?"

"Only to be more objective."

"Sure you aren't Shiny underneath that outfit?"

"I think Shiny's too busy admiring that paper that was in your hooves."

Cadance was shocked into a stop.

"Oh? What's the matter? Have our stab after stab to the other's psyche finally pierced the first weakness?" Luna laughed in a way hollow and fake and, ensuring it was apparent. Cadance boiled a brighter pink to show her lack of stoicism. "Aha! Such an easy target indeed. Unable to lie—not with all these magazines."

Cadance's eyes shifted to the side—before shooting back to the opponent. "Shining's still infatuated with me! Loses it in in seeing me in a new outfit." Cadance clenched his eyes in being led down a bad lane... though her mouth kept on talking. "Always wants to grab me and hold me and cannot believe he has me every time he looks at me! His love for me cannot be hidden from my power."

"Little miss perfect is still a teenager in some regards." Luna covered her laugh behind a hoof in turning away. Same tactic Celestia had done and held over her in the past—how family bullying is passed through the generations. "Such a lovely power to know who is in love and those who are loved. Such a shame, though to find someone whose love is born in multiple directions."

Cadance's scowled. "Don't go there."

"Shining's love for you is assured and is brimming the capacity... yet it also rises to the counter for another... a love much older than the one held for you." Luna should have backed away, but instead, she came within range of her opponent. "It does not rise higher than the one held for you—but it's been coming awfully close lately."

Cadance's muzzle lowered and her scowl deepened. No words escaped as nothing could deter the truth. Rather something around it had to be invented or an attack of retaliation found. She waited for the right moment to strike as anger festered.

"And the power of dreams is stronger than the power of love in this regard."

Luna leaned over Cadance in a blow of warm air across her snout, which twitched, as Luna's mouth drew close to her ears. "Do you want to know why?"

Cadance did not answer.

"Because I can see exactly what Shining wants." Luna licked her lips. "Such a shame I did not join you for that game. It would have been such joy to tease such a fun colt." She pulled away and lorded over from above. "Does that bother you at all? To win and marry your love from the pool of thirsty mares—only to have to fight for him, again, from radiating feminine power of your own family?"

It is so on.

"Maybe I wouldn't have minded playing that game with you." Cadance's smirk returned as did her half-lidded eyes in looking up. Her thighs crossed together, plush on plush, rubbing to a tease drawing the other's eyes. "Felt the love and a little of something else once you came in here. Maybe you are less of a bore than you let on. Nature's design robbed you of bright attraction—didn't it?"

Luna's eye twitched and her snout flicked away. "The masses hold unquestionable love for me."

"So much that they slept through your night and praised your sister more in every regard?"

Cadance enjoyed the crunch in Luna's heart as though it were a chocolate bar.

"Much be a terrible being last all the time for it to make such a bitter old mare." Cadance rolled onto her tummy to the delightful feeling of her flanks, their swells, tightly embraced in underwear, shifting as they dropped. "Celestia is as beautiful as I am pretty as Twilight is adorable. Yet where do the praises from the public come in for Luna? Not starting too many fights in bars or debates across fan clubs—remind me, by the way, do you have any of those?"

Though it was invisible, between the mares, there was a fire in the air.

"I wouldn't have minded playing that game with you with Shining between us." Cadance stood on the bed and did a twirl on light hooves, coming to rest and showing off her bottom, swells of pink, stretching the tightness of white, showing to the inward curve all desire to explore. "Because at the end of the game, surely, this is the underwear he would like to be tossed inside the most."

Cadance looked from back from the side of her barrel, tongue out again, frazzle mane set over the side of her face, blocking it, to create another kind of irresistible beauty. "Tell me how many dreams he possesses of you? My sad power may not show me what he craves—but it does show how little he craves it."

Luna laughed. Little chuckles raising into laughter. The shaking of shoulders and rising of a hoof to rub at the side of her face. "Oh! Oh ho oh! Perfect! It seems you no longer need the protective shadow of Celestia to be able to stand on your own after all! You are a worthy enemy indeed—how I love you!"

Cadance returned the laughter with the lowering of her snout, the brightening of her eyes, and the growing of her game face. "If only the stars and the moon had given me some hint before I'd become married! I would have ditched that stallion and waited for you to come back! Oh... how this rump could have been yours!"

Luna shook her head with a pleased smile this time. "But who says the fates cannot be changed? You spoke of having nothing to worry about in sharing your husband with me. Indeed love between three could be the tease to all."

Cadance bared a fang. "I'm not letting you have my Shiny."

"Can you say the same thing to Celestia?"

Cadance looked down in thought.

"Do not look so down! Coming all this way is quite the trip." Luna approached the bed and sat on its edge. Her soft bottom spread and flattened and elevated her a few inches. Indeed there was more junk on that trunk—thickly buttery sort desirable in its own right. "Do you think I made it so only to tease you endlessly?"

Candace still had to think about it.

"Enough! Perhaps I am that petty—but none of that now." Luna's eyes glossed over to the presented derriere of white enshrouded underneath the fibres of a tail. She enjoyed it for multiple reasons.

"You and I were afraid of each other's powers and abilities when we first met, and it was because of that, we entered an estranged agreement." Luna chuckled to herself. "I do not see into the dreams of you two, and in exchange, you do not look into my loves—and, yes, lack thereof."

Cadance smiled at being given the joke without having to say it.

"Obviously neither of us followed that treaty." Luna swished a hoof in the air to follow the train of logic. "Though we had the graces to never reveal our findings. How about we break that as well? No sense in being silent on the matters both of us already know."

"Like how, despite being so powerful, you would toss yourself between my flanks, unknown about, and enjoy the humiliation of such?" Cadance rolled onto her back to the jostle of firmness. Bubbly though not as quite as voluminous the other princesses—but far more tuater than them all. "Or how you wouldn't mind having Celesta's thighs locked around your head and dragging you in? Need I speak about Twilight?"

"Commanding on the outside and a submissive on the inside." Luna chuckled. "Indeed it is a horrible treat." She looked over to the immediate rushing of pink crossing over midnight-blue. Cadance's legs had spread to her stockings tightening around her thighs. That. And the shape pulled taut in her underwear. "Just as horrible as knowing your husband's interest in giant mares has, shall we say, grown since his encounter with two of them?"

Cadance's head sunk into the blanket as mane dressed over her. She bunched her lips and pressed them left like a petulant filly. Her hind legs crossed then pulled back then crossed then pulled back, no longer to be teasing, though rather, as something to do. "He's not as grabby with me lately. I enjoy feeling too perfect for him. He doesn't take me as his everything anymore."

Luna huffed and looked forward, shoulders slumped and forehooves supporting her jaw, she looked around. "I jest about the changing of his love. Ratio of his dreams is ninety-five percent you and five-percent her."

Cadance frowned. "I want the full hundred! It's not fair!" Her forelegs slapped to the sides, and did so again, smack after smack, the demonstration of childish rage. "I used to be so great that it took up everything! Couldn't even look at another mare because he was so focused on another perfect aspect of me! Once I found out about his little... big... whatever it is!"

She shook the storm from her head and exhaled steam from her mouth. "That his love for me would jump to a hundred again! Things have been rather slow as of late." Cadance pouted and crossed her forelegs. "How many other mares are touched to find their lover wants them to be the size of a city?! Honestly I'm too good for him. Doesn't even deserveto get slipped down the front of my undies."

"Undies?"

"It's a strange word he enjoys only in the heat of the moment!" Those hooves then slammed into her eyes as she rolled about. "And I know that because I've been going through his stash! Ahaha! I swear! I'll kill that stallion when he gets home from work."

"Granted Celestia doesn't get too him first."

"Are we back to verbal fighting again? I don't think I have the willpower for that."

Luna laughed. Genuine though a tad forced. Not demeaning but teasing to something better for them both. The mattress sunk and rose as knees crawled across it. Cadance opened her eyes in time to see the other mare looming above in her vision. "Don't you worry now. You may be an enemy, but surely, you know the phrase around that."

Cadance tiredly cocked an eyebrow. "The enemy of my enemy is probably my enemy too?"

"Only if there is a greater cause for us to be enemies than the great cause that is our enemy!"

"You're confusing me and I don't like it."

"Forever the filly."

"Do I have the body of one?"

"You shall not be shrinking me temptress." Luna coughed down the heat that had been rising up. "Rather we will be doing the reverse!"

"Both us growing?" Cadance's head rolled onto her blanket of hair and looked at Luna from there. "What point is there in us doing that?"

"Because our enemy has done precisely that—and you wouldn't have gone digging through your husband's privacy were it not for that."

It was hard trusting a foe with the sensitive knowledge that could easily harm you. Yet Cadance had a little bit more information on the other. She decided to trust, to the one untrustworthy, for the sake of finding a solution to her problem. "Alright. Fine. So maybe Shiny might prefer his big mares to be dwarfing a city instead of a playset."

"Rather it's how they make a city into a playset that he finds amusing." Cadance's glare was met with a raised hoof from another. One rested in the second next. "Don't you worry. I didn't go too deeply prying into your lover's psyche." She grinned. "Just enough to give you everything you need to get that hundred percent back."

Cadance listened.

"You barely won your husband back from Celestia during that game of yours and, even then, it's due to you throwing a fit." Luna's head bounced side to side. "Of course that's a test of his love he gave everything up to due to how much he wanted to comfort you. But that's not the same in winning in appeal between you and Celly. We all hate her as much as we love her. Familial crushes are a dastardly thing."

Cadance deflated. "Why does she have to be perfect and flaunt it?"

"Just enough to show herself off without doing any real harm." Luna clicked her teeth to the sway of her mane. "Interrupting your game and stealing him away to show that she could. Devilish is she beneath that caring demeanour. Now massive and enjoying herself to the fullest in that city. Isn't Shining stationed closer to there today?"

Cadance flipped and buried her face into the bed with hooves toppling over as well. "Trust me I know!" Her voice was muffled—as well the following scream. An inch of a turn, though, revealed the side of her muzzle. Cadance looked back with an eye. "Wanted to go there and tug him back by the ear myself. But then I'd look desperate and insecure."

"Aren't you?"

"Yes!" Cadance with a roll of her eye. "But I don't want him to know that!"

"Then you do know what the solution is." Luna crawled over on her knees to the other mare's neck, stroking it with legitimate care, attempting to Cadance's breathing. There were a few hitches before it settled back into rhythm. "To be a mare that commands a hundred percent from him, you must do exactly that: command."

Cadance revealed more of her worn face to the watery hulls at the bottom of her eyes.

"Obviously you have no qualms about becoming large and dressing rather nice and showing yourself off in degrees that would absolutely humiliate anyone else." Luna hummed to herself as her strokes carried across the back, fur and skin, a lane for the spine, of it sublime. "And willing to do anything to embarrass your husband in ways you both secretly love. Celestia threatens to get in the way of that. So large and loving it. Countless fanning over her despite the damage caused."

She leaned in close to whisper in horror to Cadance's perked ear. "And have you seen how cute she looks in that sailor outfit? Even that cap and top forces me to admit she's adorable." Her voice lowered even more but deepened in the essence of something. "Wearing that skirt to hide her backside. Mares do that for two reasons. Either because they're afraid of how small it is..."

Cadance gulped.

"Or they want to be further teased to all that is underneath."

Cadance's lips entered into waves of wiggles.

"And what's going to happen once she invites only Shiny to get to go inside of there?"

Cadance whined and shook her head and beat her hooves into the bed, shouting no, no, no! overand over till the panic dissipated. She then looked up at the aunt currently rubbing her back. "Do you think Aunt Celly would really do that?"

Luna giggled like an evil-stepmother and licked at her lips. "She made that attempt once before in your presence. Don't you wonder, dear niece, of the restraint of your husband? How would he handle the flirtations of the mare bathing the tallest tower in the fluff of her chest? The bunch of it, of course, coming through the opening in her sailor top."

Cadance made a whiney noise and dropped her muzzle onto the bed, holding hooves over her eyes, back to being a teenager once more. "Noooo! Stop it! You're not nice!"

"The one 'not nice' is the mare willing to do all of the above—to shake her hips, and offer a ride, between her flanks as she wanders high above the city." Luna dropped her head and ensured a sigh that was extra long. "Him reclining at the back of that massive underwear, pulled into a spread due to its tightness, nothing but a speck of a bugle on the magnitude of Celestia's derriere."

"Nooooo! He's my shiny! Stop it!"

"At least the view would be nice both inside and looking out." Luna took the hoof set to stroking and comforting, draping it over her head, falling into the despair that was spelled with her words. "Unable to see over the curve of a flank to the tease of the dusky canyon between. Diffused few to the passing buildings and little roads below as mighty hips carry him through the city."

"I won't let her do that!"

"Oh?" Luna turned back to the mare who had risen, returning her hoof to stroking her back but, in missing, rested on the top of pink twins instead. "A-And how do you plan on doing that?"

"Celestia might be twice or triple the size of me back there... but she doesn't have that immediate prettiness!"

Luna cheered. "And don't forget pettiness!"

"Indeed yes! That boy is going to get more from his hidden attraction than he could ever want!"

Luna nodded—but paused. "But what about Celestia? She came close to beating you before. What if she beats you to him? Even if you do reach him in time—what if she fights you for him? What will you do then?"

Cadance twirled until the girls were sitting a foot apart, each looking into the other, the previous hatred, forgotten as, never given a reason to be friends before, the aunt and the niece, in needing to defeat their thickly superior, came to work together.

"I'm going to beat her in doing everything she won't."

"Thatta girl!"

"Or maybe... Shiny wouldn't like any of this at—"

"Hush hush! Now is not the time for doubts!” Luna lurched forward and wrapped her arms around the lovely mare, the two close, the heat from one, burning, the cold of the other. It was sweet to the point of not breaking it within the seconds Luna was supposed to. "Today is the day to be petty! To not let that Giant Celly win! To cause mayhem and destruction without regard for the sake of our fun! Everyone needs a day for everything to be shaken up! That causes a drastic change in the next that is to come!"

Cadance exhaled to then breathe the clover scent of Luna's mane. "T-Today is the day to let loose?"

"We take such good care of this nation for it to become as great as us—our subjects shouldn't throw so much of a fuss for us enjoying ourselves for once." Luna chuckled. "Besides. How many will protest in seeing towering and beautiful mares going for a bit of stomping around?"

"You're right! Quick! There isn't a second to lose former-evil aunt!"

"That's—wait." Luna's muzzle pulled back as the rest of her kept in the hug. "You saw me as evil?"

"No time for that!" Cadance grinned as a frazzled strand passed over her eye. She looked up to the ceiling as magic charged her horn. Expansion flooded out her body, proportionally, coming to double than triple her size. "Let's grow!"

Luna blinked repeatedly in fear as her forelegs, able to wrap around the Cadance's little barrel, now, could barely reach halfway around. Cadance turned in breaking the hug, sitting and waiting, her mass outgrowing the bed. Luna crawled back from the rump resting on the mattress—and the tease to the inch that was between the brim and Cadance's hips. "Wait wait! I do not have the spell! It's for this reason that I came to you!"

Cadance was too focused on licking her lips in order to save her Shiny.

Wood creaked and spring broke as the bed crashed into the ground from the weight. Pink overtook white as the rump swell without losing its relative size. Luna panicked in crawling back, feeling it press into something, turning back to find it backed into one of bed's beams.

Looking ahead came the crashing sight. Bottom of another crawling over her legs and leaning on her stomach and pushing into her chest. It grew and the weight became more extensive with the opening in the back of the waistband becoming far more than an inch.

She's too lost in that world I created in her head! Would she take off without me? She very well might! I need her to take me with her. She'll grow me once she snaps out of it. But there's nowhere else I can stowaway on her body. Unless...

Luna looked at the spread of the waistband band as it grew out of the sides of her view. Each cheek becoming heavier without becoming hefty. The chasm between the cheeks was more immense without losing its tightness.

Slowly the answer became clear.

Time to discover if this is punishing or rewarding.

Luna wiggled from underneath the amplifying amounts of ass, the balloon of each cheek, swelling into her. Heated was the flank and warmed had been the underwear with dense stitching, though like silk in rubbing across her body, was preventing the princess from moving.

"Cadance! Cadance! You are sitting on me! You know you are sitting on me like some sort of violet puppy—right?!" Luna continued to wiggle from underneath the mass of ass, causing to jostle and ripple a little. She pounded on the inward curve of each cheek with her hooves, sinking into pink plushness until it wobbled and rocked the impact back. "Get off me now! We're supposed to take Celly down together! You need me for this!”

Cadance wiggled on her bottom to get more comfortable.

Luna was about to be drowned in the derriere and, in her last moment above the surface, drank in a deep breath before being submerged. Sky of white swam above to the protrusions of roundness. Caught in a lane between the flanks, Luna groaned before squeaking, the massive pair, clenching, coming to rub and shift and grind her in place.

A large voice, muffled, echoed from outside the chamber.

"Just you wait Shiny."

Luna wiggled and pounded itty-bitty hooves on the cheeks. "Silly girl! Ack! Enough of this already." Though lying on her back and being upside-down, the mare crawled through, between the tight cheeks and up the lane, escaping the speed of growth. "It looks as though I'll have to get the future Shiny experience."

Anyone from the window of the bedroom would have seen the vastness of the bottom consuming the zone with its existence, as did the rest of the mare, forced to curl into herself as her body expanded into the walls. Cracks broke through it and the floor with destruction nigh.

Luna escaped from the underneath the bottom but did not cease her crawl, knowing the spire was on collapse and, in needing to escape the crashing of hardness, then, needed to be squeezed all around by softness. Keeping up to the start of the waistband, she did not stop to reflect, instead casting herself into the abyss.

Luna crawled up onto the waistband and fell through on the other side, coming to slide down the back to between the top of violet hills. Her legs were caught in the toasty divot between with her midsection squeezed to the crashing of the two orbs of firmness.

Above in the opening of the back of the underwear, a trickle of light came through, the view shooting across the long back before being capped by locks of mane. Cadance's massive head turned and looked over her shoulder, down at the end of her panties, eye winked and tongue out, laughter dropped like bombs.

"Glad you fell for that—do you think I ever wear anything loose?"

Luna wiggled between the tops of the pink cheeks to pop an arm free, seconds from striking it to the air but, in so doing, saw the band, snap, across the mare of the mare. Giggles floated beyond the chamber to the tightening of claps beyond.

"Consider this revenge for all the stuff you said before." There was a great yearning in the distance as crystal sounded on the verge of shattering. "And you are getting away lightly on the matter. Worse and I would have kept you in my underwear for weeks without anyone else knowing. Far more than a pretty mare beneath the surface. I would have had my fun with you."

Luna actually swallowed at this as, the power held over her by Celestia, she then used on Cadance but, as it would have it, that power went back up the chain of command. She hoped that, after this, it would be her turn to use it on Celestia.

"Though I can still shake my hips and sit down and rub myself around on a hilltop if you don't believe me?" Luna did nothing to further laughter from the attached giant, the sound, vibrating from the body through roaring from outside. "Good! Now then. Think... we're about to pop out of here in a second. You might want to bury yourself a bit more inside of there. Y'know. For safety. Nothing else of course."

Luna only made a whimpering sound.

As the Spire of the Crystal Empire came to possess an opening at its top, an indention of four hooves at its front, crunched from a jump as a giant mare, in love with the sway of her hips and the shifting of her flanks, happily enjoyed burying a former foe in overwhelming amounts of tush.

"And just maybe I'll grow up alongside me once we reach Manehatten."

Ponies ducked out from their windows, confused to the booms and the shadow that washed over, looking out to the spire of a pink foreleg, which shot forever up, connecting to a barrel small and round despite its overall mass. The passing princess strolled through her kingdom.

To the long haul ahead.

VII | Familial Rivalry

~ VII ~

Familial Rivalry

The sun was over the military base of stone, which had been set in the center of a field, a lone and fenced road connecting from it to the distant highway. City buildings towered across the curve of the horizon. Smoke wafted from there as carts shot out from the base and toward it.

Inside the walls stretched the paved lot of the site. Tents stacked in rows going across with great divides between. Guards flourished between the lanes as, in the corners and on the tops of wooden poles, horns continued to blare.

"Aaaaa-teeeeen-tioon! Legs parked and hooves in saute! Oooo-rdered!"

In the vacancy before the tents paused the scrambling guards. Halting and furnishing into lines stacked into growing rows. Those reaching their stops did as requested. Few, confused on the word, sniffed at underneath their arms.

"Not that! Order not odour!" Shining smacked a golden hoof into the ground. "Follow it! Doubled ordered!"

Non-existent term none would question.

Celestia. Of all the mares to become gigantic. Celestia.

Oh Cadance.

Please don't kill me.

I already want to do it myself—before something happens.

"Just because the city is in possible wreckage is not an excuse for the Royal Guards to be losing our heads! We're meant to keep calm to ensure the peace!" Shining whipped his head with anger not spawned from them. Authority, however, dished as it pleased. "No better than buff and strangely dressed citizens at that point. We keep the order! And you do that by following orders."

He'd been stomping back and forth in a stride, the golden armour, clattering, it thicker and larger than the rest. Cadance had joked it was an outfit born from compensation. Not the kind from the lacking of downstairs—thankfully enough. Rather from a deeper aspect entirely.

"Now then! Everyone calm! Chance to breathe and realize the city is not on fire?" He stopped with a hoof erupted to the looming metropolis. Smoke settled into the sky without a following. The turned crowd returned to him. "It's a cloud of dust and rubble from wrecked buildings. We're being tasked with assistance to citizens, reduction to damages, and recovery of destruction."

Shining's muzzle remained tilted above the masses, straining his throat and jaw and throat, weakness spreading through him, shoulders coming to drop—as did everything else. The commander of the base slumped from power. "This isn't war. Not even a battle."

Everyone leaned their necks closer even though prohibited since basic training. Colts and fillies dressed in armour and presented with arms. Confused as to what to do and unable to assume the present affair.

"Get it through your heads—we're doing little more than civil duty for the next few days!" Shining's hoof meshed into the bridge of his snout. "So tell the carts to stop racing off and crashing at the first tent. Stop rushing! You're all just crashing into each other. We already have a few of you knocked on the ground and unable to get up!"

His outstretched hoof pointed to the right where a pair, knocked into each other and fallen on their backs, were rolling to the sides, unable to move the heft of their armour. The other bounced forward and up, raising an inch, before crashing back down.

Giant Celestia or incompetent base. One teasing and the other annoying. Which one will be worse?

"Have we gotten that out of the way? Good stuff! Now then, onto the matter of—"

"What about all the naval boats and their equipment requested in advance by Princess Celestia?" the voice came from somewhere in the middle of the endless waves of guards. When did the whole base stack together? Hundred recruits focused on the veteran. "They've reached the port and are ready for offloading. Weren't you sent here to oversee that?"

That's the excuse for the report, at least. Dunno what that mare has planned. Something... wonderfully horrible.

"And I will be shipping out to handle it," Shining rolled the words between exposed teeth, the anger faded his sensations, like the boom of hooves, becoming close, as was a sweeping shadow, "once there's certainty fire doesn't break out on my departure here. Next question has to be directed at my face. None from the back want to try it again?"

Horrified crowds etched into statuettes looking up. Slacked muzzled and high eyes at the threat. Horrible pride sweltered in the heart. Shining liked holding and commanding power to legitimate effect on others. Being so controlled by the mares in his life, he always seemed their toy, though now, came into being his own stallion.

With a huff and a brushing of a hoof on his chest, he nodded, raising a hoof to dismiss them all

"Doesn't he look commanding with all that armour on? You'd almost get the silly notion he was his own stallion."

"Indeed! Tried telling him that before—but insistent he kept it on."

"Is that a problem? I was under the impression it's more fun to strip teeny stallions."

"Trust me... I wasn't complaining.”

It was now Shining's time for horror.

Shadows covered the ground, not large and vast, but rather voluminously and shapely. The shades of heads appearing on the other side of the base. Both of them looked at Shining. Teasing with darkly grins to enhance the experience of foreboding.

Crashes zoomed through the room of the playset. Deafening from crunched stone. Weights draped on walls to the spreading of cracks. Slowly the stallion turned in place. From the crowd to the base of the wall, fractured, to the above immensities.

Shining fought to work his face in stepping back from the view. Beyond were the faces of two lovely mares. Each opposite of the other, hooves curled on the border, inching into the zone, and saw the toys.

"What I wouldn't have given for a playground like this when I was little." Luna's muzzle tucked behind the cylinders of forelegs as her eyes watched from above them. She giggled. Wing spawning from her mass. Shooting in, carving into the ground behind them like it were sand, lifting the tent set on it. "Let me look into this for a moment."

The wing curved to her muzzle. Luna tilted her head and closed an eye and looked in. Those inside, through the open flaps of the tent, saw the vertical pond of white with, at its middle, a lumusicent pool of blue. She giggled, and its echo had bounced inside.

"Oh yes. Having a little army of soldiers toys to play with." Luna set the tent back in its foundations and, to the crowds, the mass of her wingtip, like a hill, was all that could fit in their vision. Everyone was scared and... something else. "Childhood would have been a touch interesting with that."

Shining had been more afraid of the other mare. Luna had laid on the ground and propped her front on the wall. Cadance, however, stood. Lowered, with her rump sticking all the way up. Shooting beacon of pink to broad, snowy, and tightly underwear at the peak.

Cadance's snout hidden beneath the wall. Her eyes above it. Looking down at it. Their feeling... unknown. Wisps of cotton mane between them and around her head. Shining backed at seeing her grin curve above the wall.

Mare turned predator. Ready to pounce. Waiting for the first flinch.

"Not me." Tip of Cadance's tongue stuck out the corner of her lips, a concentration in the making. "Always wanted a little colt to toy around. A helpless little boy to enjoy." Her tongue receded, and that was not good. "And I think I just found one."

"Is that so?" Luna's figure rose to a hot-air balloon stealing the view above. Her foreleg arched over the wall and the zone, coming to settle, far behind, to a rattle and a shake. Her massive body passed overhead as the dark underside of her barrel blocked light. "What are you waiting for? I'll block the escape."

Shining panicked. Outright died on the inside: nothing but a speck to the portrait of the living pink cliff before him. Cadance's muzzle stealing the frame, the towering wall, now, short below her snout. The rest of her magnitude zoned far away into the beyond. Utter massiveness, unable to be described.

Only pleasantly feared.

Shining looked behind him to over the heads of the guards. Darkly ankles towering in view. One living structure rose before crashing onto its elbow, fissures shooting from it, that was until a crashing had chunked a crater from the land.

The corner of Luna's face entered into view, amused, leaning down and resting on her hoof: overseeing the tinies. Such a big eye to swallow them all. Yet its focus, concentration, alone on him. She wouldn't do anything—but teased him to all that laid possible.

"Such a cute army of useless guards." Luna mocked in her laugh. "Tell me. What shall win? The great amount of use, dressed in arms or weapons, or us, a couple of cute and harmless mares?"

Shining blinked in looking to Cadance. Dressed nearly in the outfit of their O&O game. Had this been a throwback? Challenge to see who would win again? Shining looked back to his army, rows of living creatures, born of wings and magic and strength, in a station with canons and other equipment.

Is this what we're doing again... crazy mare?

Cadance's eyebrow lifted at his chance to the growth of a grin.

Very well! Prepare to have your toned-rump destroyed!

"Forget notions of civil duty! This is a war after all!" Shining strode toward the mare in the adrenaline of arrogance. Rising before her on two legs, he looked over his shoulder at the army. Grinning, he cocked a foreleg at Cadance. "Now, c'mon! Follow me! We can win this if—WHOA! HEY HEY! P-P-PUT ME DOWN! CAAAADANCE! PUT ME DOWN!"

Shining had been standing and, while he was turned, the mare had pranced forward, over the wall and on him. Darkness flooded around as did vines of cotton candy. Seconds before he could look up, teeth bared into the scruff of his neck, their edge at least, and lifted him up.

The ground shrunk below to the vertical slope of pink wonderland at the side. Far below crashed the mass of rump, blowing out chunks of stone underneath the swells, the dust staining the underwear. Flanked thighs, bulbous and creamy as candy, rubbed to the teasing that was pleasing between them.

Shining rose to the jungle of tuft. Swinging back and forth and curling into himself. Baked warmth, sweetly-scented, rolled in. Clusters of fluff beckoned him in. Deep within wispy and soaring bushes. Preheated skin of her chest, rising and dropping to her breathing, coupled to the beating of an enormous heart.

Those sweet things.

Not meant to be.

As Luna went to speak.

"That appears to be the captain of the enemy dealt with." Cadance sat properly in the space where he had stood, so many eyes on him, and now, all of them were on her. Barely stealing a fraction of the area, and now she demolished its surrounding walls due to her derriere's expansion. "The rest of you should be harmless. Any dare oppose us? Make the first strike. If not? Spread out to the sides."

Shining curled into himself being suspended however many hundred of feet from the ground. Looking up revealed the plushness of lips and the edge of a snout. The corner of the mountainous face existed in view. Touch of the eye in frame. It looked down at him: amused.

Below was the fine cut of a jaw which spread out of vision. Tease of the expansive throat imitating a soft and taut volcano. Warmed chest below. Shoulders blocking the rest of round beams for forelegs. Belly one could ski across. Opening legs to reveal the underwear tightly laid over her waist.

Vision travelled beyond that to the guards at either side of the hooves, in rows and out of the way—as the giant mares needed. Luna rose in the distance. Striding over with one hoof directly in front of the other.

"Princess Celestia shouldn't be a problem for us with this taken care of." Luna approached and rose out of view, high above the sitting mare, blocked by the bridge of muzzle overhead. Seconds passed. Winds blew as her face dropped into view. "Cute seeing you like this Shining. Can't have you going off and alerting our rival now—can we?"

Fear and confusion swirled into the other.

"Now then! What shall we do with our pensioner of war? Where should his cell be? Dug into the ground? Set off on a little island we can only reach?"

Cadance hummed loudly and annoyingly, and the vibration of such knocked the stallion. Entering a free fall forward, he screamed for a second, caught around the waist in overwhelming lips. Flanking his view in pink with a cream that was surrounding.

"That's right, indeed! How foolish of me! And after I'd spent our trip getting that place so warmed up for him!" Luna's muzzle dipped from view as the titan dropped, between the thick legs, settling on the balloons of thighs. "And I do agree with your means! Magic and wings are far too banal for the things better kept as primitive."

Shining watched from above. Down the skyscraper of pink to the valley between those plump legs. Topside of Luna's head entering deeper between them as she snagged her teeth on the frilly waistband. It took a few delicate tugs to work it back, the brim so in love in hugging that wonderful crotch.

Luna tugged it back to reveal the dusk of its inner-curve. The baking temperature had wafted upward. Distance non-existent to the large and turned-on. Whiteness disappeared as the view travelled inside the panties. Shapes in the darkness, generous and immense, curved hills of squish—little sparks igniting in the back of the mind.

Shining rubbed a hoof onto the other in looking up, over the underside of the muzzle, to the corner of the eye on him. He chuckled. Nervously. Wanting something terrifying. "U-Um. Hon? Did I do something wrong?"

Lips tightened on him, relented, loosening into a smile.

The lovely behemoth shook her head, and the motion swayed with him. He inched to the sides on the plushness of the lips—barely feeling their squishy through the openings of his armor. Cadance had been right. He did come to regret it.

"Did I... do something right?"

Another shake that showed him the sides of the world.

"Am I... about to do something right?"

The head tilted back, and Shining slipped. Lips tightened at his midsection to stop him from slipping into the cavernous maw. Then it fell forward, the surrounding mouth, opening, in blowing a kiss. Shining fell again to a yell and the failing of his arms. Winds cut upward, layered in body heat, as the chest below his vision—bumped forward to catch him.

Spires of tuft floated into view and pushed into the beyond. Shining braced himself in crashing into a few, falling inward to the depths of the array, density at their base: greater. He smacked through them, breaking through fine strands, speed slowed by something like chest fluff.

Soon he smacked and rolled beneath the forest of it, the ground woven in pink furs, everywhere of that landscape. On his front and sliding across the tightness of the toned belly, the view below, showing the end to his trip.

Luna's massive head existed beyond the raised legs' largess, which zoomed and blurred into the great distance, the view of everything, somehow, to galactic proportions. Luna saw overhead with the underwear tugged to her teeth.

Shining turned as he slid, the soft and silken ground, forever at an incline as, towering in the sky, the muzzle of the giant looked at him. Cadance winked with a turn of her head as though it were a wish that wished him well.

He turned back in time to have reached the cliff of the crotch, the rise of squish, beginning, from underneath him. A powerful exhale flushed from the muzzle poised before the gap. Luna's teeth tugged on the brim as she smiled.

Shining came over the groin and shot over the edge, soaring through the steamed air of feminine roses, seeing the impending bank of snow. Crashing into it flexed the silk into an indention, one of an inch, unseen in the darkness. It bounced back, damp density, lightly, sliding him down the slope.

Until he stopped.

Few shakes of the head worked him back into the game. Darkness was in his eyes and fragrant fever on his skin and musk inhaled into his snout. Shining groaned. Reclined in the colossal hammock underwear to the view before him.

It laid above and in the distance. Supple and round and gigantic. Smelling of flowers richly in the stink of something else. Gates to paradise found in a borderline hell. So large and towering and looking to be devouring of him.

If the wetness, the patch directly around him, was of any indication.

And it didn't help that Luna watched from directly above the waistband like a giant peering over the brim of a stadium.

Luna released the band from her teeth to the musical it composed. The plucked waistband, snapping back, a crash across the pink tuft of flesh. Cadance sat back on her rump with hind legs spread out—one weighing into Luna's back.

Anything to bestow greater access between.

"He looked so scared in that frilly hammock of yours." Luna's eyes rose from the base of the present crotch, above to where her nephew rolled her head, with her mouth open, moaning at the placement of the little one. "His world is now composed of the one inside your underwear."

Cadance's lips twitched further.

After a finished job, Luna retreated—though without a pat to the plane of silk—to find the younger mare unmoved. Stretching the undergarment as it dug into her bottom—the one inside, too small to be a bulge—but no doubt there.

"Aren't you just adorable like this!" Luna licked her lips at the warm flaring beneath her coat. Another sexy mare said before her, lower-back crunching into the base's wall, as Cadance rocked in place. “Certainty warmed faster than anticipated. But don't you forget something."

Below and at the ground level of the base. Ponies scattered at the loss of their command. Dashing in various directions with shoulders brushing. Soon a shadow loomed over the center lane of the base—one that depends by the second.

Those caught beneath it cleared the way for the enormous BOOOM! that cracked the stone and quaked the land into a leap. Cadance's back consumed the laid with a pool of her mane spewed across the scene. It was within seconds before the other titian fell over top.

Winds whirled as the darkened mare laid forward and across on the other, hooves placed on pink shoulders, set to pin, as the doughy bottom came to rest on and spill over the slender belly. Luna's muzzle lowered into view.

"We're here to teach that big bully of a princess a lesson." Luna's eyes closed as she pressed her lips into Cadance's, whose eyes flared up for a second—before settling into bliss. Her hips rolled and rocked around. Set always at a little thrust. "Mmmhmm."

Luna wiped a forehoof over her mouth and glanced at the gathered ponies. "Now, how do you think our subjects took to that?"

Cadance's head rolled to view the bitty-camps. Now still, flocks of ponies, each of them, somehow, warmed in the colour of red. Each had watched her kiss another princess. One nearly debated as family.

And she could only lick her lips and make Shining's entrapment a bit warmer, wetter, and with a waft of something stronger. The poor boy would have no choice but to be soaked. Not unless he crawled around.

Luna rose. "Come on then! Everything here is taken care of... now it's to deal with Celly!"

“Kija... kojo... torjo... tortilla?”

Twilight Sparkle closed her eyes and, whenever she pettily got upset, learned to smile the best she could. The sway of the train jolted her forward and, with a yelp, she rolled from her seat and onto the ground.

"For the last time—we are not going to be attacked by food!" Twilight struck her hooves into the ground and jumped back into a stand. The cart rocked again, and she stumbled in place. "Rather, there is a chance of the invasion of a destructive deity that we know close to nothing about!"

She whipped around to the friends seated around the table. All of them had managed to keep on it, alright. Three on each side with the current exception of her. She walked back to the edge of the bench. "Such it will be that a great BEAST will be bestowed into the SEA by the SKY itself! That's all we have to go off! And I could use a little help in—"

"Twilight, darling, you just slipped!"

Twilight's hoof pressed into the seat as she glared at Rarity. "Of course I did! Why are you telling me this? I was there to experience it!"

"I-It's not a matter of that darling but, if I could dare to be so insensitive for but a moment, it's just, that, well... d-do you believe yourself to be enlarging... in the area of the derriere?"

Twilight plopped into her seat with an opened mouth. "A-Are you accusing me of my rump getting bigger!"

"Not precisely my dear!" Rarity sat in the sunlight awash from the window as she fiddled in place. "Just that every part of you seems to have grown as of late! But one area, though, has been more noticeable."

Was this right? What this happening right now? Twilight was at a loss for words as she glared at her friends—all of which, in looking at each other, never looked at her. "Did you just say you've been looking at me from back there?!"

"Only with the eyes of a designer and with the heart of a friend."

Rainbow scrunched her lips left. "I only do it with the eyes of a perv."

Twilight crossed her arms over her chest for whatever reason. "R-Rainbow! How could you!"

"W-What! Your rump is big now that it got you tossed from your seat! How's a gal not supposed to get tracked by that?" Everything went dark as the train shot into a tunnel carved into the base of a mountain. "Swear you alicorns get something special on your diet or whatever."

Fluttershy squeaked. "B-But Twilight's diet hasn't changed."

One could hear Rainbow blinking. "Oh."

"Yeah!" Pinkie cheered for no real reason. "That means something about becoming a princess makes your booty aaaaable to shaaaake!”

Applejack coughed. "Do hate to admit it... but the princess definitely do rock somethin' back there."

"Luna's like a ball of warmed dough."

"Wait wait! You girls cannot talk about the princesses like this!" Twilight struck the table as the darkness persisted. They were out of the tunnel and inside of a shadow. Yet they could not bear to look out to the massive view outside the window. "And that includes me! Alicorn transformation does not increase my butt size!”

Rainbow bunched her lips. "Hard disagree."

Rarity placed her hooves on Rainbow's shoulders. "Hold on now. She may have a point. Cadance is surely full in the areas that count—but she's an awfully narrowed mare compared to the rest."

"Still bigger than you, Marshmallow."

"Now how could you! Speaking a lie like that."

"Certainly seems a tad narrower on a few of them posters."

"No, no." Twilight shook her head and tossed out a hoof. "I can back Rainbow on this one. She looks small until you get up close. She's probably bigger than all of us. Cadance tends to hide herself a little bit."

None had been expecting this answer from Twilight Sparkle.

"And you know this intimate detail how?”

"W-Well I—"

"Can you blame a nerdy girl for having a bombshell for a babysitter?"

"I-It wasn't like—"

"Explains why Twilight flared easily at the wedding."

"I would too... think they ever did any little games?"

"GIRLS!"

Twilight struck the table again and, once more, none could see the strike. It coincided to them all that their eyes were the brightest source of light. They looked to the window, the distant grassy range, one crushed beneath a sweeping scale of DEAR CELESTIA.

In the distance laid the panty-clad bottom as it rested on the range. Outer reaches of its skirt laying on the grass. The top of the fabric dome didn't hang enough over the interior. Inside the darkness, white with stripes of blue was the sweeping terrain of colossal panties.

Rounds walls of marshmallows rolled into the fabric as the stitching bent to the pressure, scrunching the globes. Sunlight barely shone at the sides of the skit. Hind legs like cranes rested on the ground.

Rainbow slowly nodded her head at the view. "Has to be an alicorn thing."

"Princess Celestia and Cadance growing up." Rarity whistled. "Lucky girl."

"S-Stop looking at her p-princess like that!" Twilight panicked in looking around. There was nothing to block the window with. It was much more for her temptation as she looked on to the backside of her teacher. "W-What is she doing here! Why is she so big! Why is she—"

"And why are your wings so flexed?"

Twilight snapped back to find that she couldn't. Looking over her shoulder revealed the wings at full mast. "I... that... t-this isn't like that! I have never thought about Princess Celestia like... like..."

Failure to finish that sentence was not to her benefit.

"I think that Twilight Sparkle wants to be a purple fly buzzing inside Celestia's skirt."

"Can you blame her?"

"GIRLS!"

And the ride kept on.

Across the rolling hill outside the edge of the city, which was consumed beneath the mass of the mare, Princess Celestia laid on her side, with a cheek resting on the grass, lips pursed, occasionally blowing to watch bends of countless fields of spades.

The day could not be worse on her spirit.

And yet.

"Look who it is!" Distant quakes broke across the land, although softer, of course, on larger ears. They perked up at the little sister able to sprinkle a little bit of 'worse' on anything. "Cadance! Over here! She's mopping on a hill!"

Celestia kept on her side as two shadows flushed over her. Her exposed eye dashed to the view. Two mares, their fronts darkened by the sun eclipsed at their back, the glint of white teeth in rows of a smile able to be seen.

Celestia's head lifted from the ground, slowing and stopping, tired and falling back. Locks of mane drifted over the side of her face. Both mares giggled at this in stepping out from the shadows. Luna left and Cadance right.

"My dear heavens!" Cadance threw up a foreleg with a poorly shocked expression. She fell to her stomach at once, causing a solid boom to ring out, a series of dull thuds produced through the land. "Aunty! Whatever did they do to you! I've never seen you so depressed before."

Celestia's lips tucked out from their sight. "You reverse-engineered the spell?"

“Because of my command!” Luna proudly patted her chest. "We heard about how awfully the city was treating your, shall we say, not so little day off?" Her head shook to a series of 'tut tut tut.' "Seems as though we have quite the trouble in store for us! But never to fear! I've always been excellent in terms of damage control."

Celestia's eye narrowed.

"P-Public damage control."

Celestia's eye narrowed further.

"Point is Lulu and I were awfully worried about you!" Cadance picked up the slack in nuzzling underneath Celestia's eye, the affection, frozen, in its insincerity. "About what could have caused all of this! Growing so large and wreaking havoc like this! And after so many years after being the perfect ruler!"

For politicians: they never learned how to act.

Celestia cleared her throat. "What are you two doing here?"

"Us? To help you of course!” Luna snickered as her a cyclone of magic, a blue density of a liquid swirled around her horn. Multiple nukes of plastic patterned the ground around him. "There is still time to reverse all the damage you've caused. Cadance and I went shopping before we came here."

Cadance snickered. "More like I presented my butt to a couple of outfits."

Luna's blush raced to the bottom of her flexed ears. "Not a word of that to her! Don't forget the deal!"

Cadance rolled her eyes.

And Celestia couldn't help but feel like these two saw her like an old granny that they were currently taking advantage of. Lazily she lit her horn and pulled on one of the towering bags. It fell onto its side to reveal the dark skirt of a maid.

"Maid outfits?"

Cadance turned her head and winked. "What's better for PR than a couple of giants, cute girls, dressed up as maids and cleaning the city?" She smiled—before an eyebrow rocketed upward. Her muzzle scrunched inward to blush overtaking it. "O-One second!"

She then looked across the side of her barrel and fought to put them into submission with a shake of her hips. There was a yelp and a dancing on her hooves to a pivot pressure between her legs. This went as far as smacking the side of her rump, a heavy blow that knocked the flanks into each other.

They rattled out to the restriction of the underwear.

Cadance blew a sigh and turned back around in relief. "Sorry about that! A-As I was saying—"

Luna had come behind the girl and, causally mounting her from behind, rested her elbow on the pink back. Her crotch applied force on the swells of the white underwear. Smushing them. Consuming whatever was inside in the overwhelming softness of peach.

"What she was saying that all of us will be dressing like maids and cleaning up the mess in the city that you made." Luna smirked in wiggling her lower half around, no doubt to feel more of the compressed softness—and whatever effect this would have on the other party. "Surely there's been enough fun. It's time to go and 'clean up' as you would always like to remind me."

The acting was terrible, and the scheme easy to see. Celestia, however, was tired. Pumping up on fun to be knocked down on its repercussions. She expected the fun to be worth the damage to all. Yet, she couldn't let herself go loose.

And her foul mood caused her to concede to this ploy.

Shining Armor knew how it felt to be inside the center of bubble gum, the folds and clumps of softness, hot and pink, shifting to the strides of the mare. To crawl across the lips of the steamy cavern, working up a sweat, the folds burning at his hooves—the view to the right exposing the colourful abyss.

He could hear—and feel—the long stride of legs that flanked him. How the ceiling, curved and white, would pull and tighten, relax and loosen, between each thunderous step. White fibres stretching and spreading, left and right, to whatever side of the lips were lifted at.

Yet he managed to find freedom in his next captivity.

The underwear had conformed around him, enough to press him into the mounds, but lax enough as not to pin. The backdrop of white assisted in his ascent in reaching the pond at the top of the lips. However above himwas his next problem.

The undersides of squishy planets loomed overhead, flourished in a layer of fuzz, lovely gardens of furs in the colour of roses. Their swell curved up and beyond his vision. Everything was dark in the underwear. Yet the orbs produced a glow of their own.

One rose and crashed into the other, falling down, as the other flank started to climb over it. It dropped the same, and the cycle repeated. Each shift and sway of the prison inched the stallion down. Down to where the chasm of the lips would take him for sure.

He crawled up to see the dusk of the slit between the spheres. It was helpless to see how far they pushed and how sweeping their curves were. Instead, he climbed up to the bottom of the divot. He baked in warmth. Each of the massive cherries condensed a sun in their centres that radiated outward.

Shining flipped onto his back and, beneath the grinding cleft, proceeded to strike his hooves inside; softness ground on his forelegs in a way to make him moan from the massage. He shook his head and looked outward. Through whatever diffused view possible through the theatre-screen of underwear.

To the buildings looming in the beyond.

And how many would be crushed, knocked over, by the softy twins.

Shining spread the divot enough to produce an opening, in which he kicked on the underwear to push himself inside off. Not much work as needed after that as the undulation of the walls sucked him in. Keeping to a tempo of vibrations that wiggled into his sides. Soon it was the bottom of his legs hanging out from the crevice.

Until they, too, were slurped inside.

Shining had been taking into the backside as all sounds became muffled due to the walls. Able to hear the knocks on the world itself to the vibrations of the coming stomps. Each time, the power of the step rocked through the towering leg, the energy jiggling through the ass that caught him.

The colt was at peace with this for a while.

Warmed.

Hugged in-between the turning and twisting walls.

Until hearing the rifling of fabric.

His eyes opened from the loving embrace to hear the sliding of clothing on skin. It wasn't before long that the ballooned walls shook in such a manner as to dislodge him. Edging him out until he was spat onto the hammock.

Gravity pulled from inside his stomach as the underwear dropped from the pink clouds. Falling and falling as the spires consumed the sides of his vision. Soon his back lifted from the silk as it gained in inches further from him. His forelegs rolled helplessly to his demise.

Cadance's back legs twitched apart to push on the waistband, stopping and flexing the panties at her ankles. Shining pelted the spacious back of them, bounced and rolled forward on the snowy slope. He crashed on his front at the crotch of the underwear.

Shining breathed in the fresh air that wasn't womanly perfume. However, his new lease on life was teased as one of the legs rose from the article's hole. The fabric fell left, and the stallions with it, from the heated material.

And crashing into the front of another pair.

Shining rose on his chest and looked across the surrounding field. It was smooth and glittery. It reminded him of the material of those strange bed sheets Cadance had bought one time. He looked up from the underwear to see his wife.

Dying in the view.

Cadance had done up her mane in the service of the word. The side of her barrel—greater than the greatest ship in any port—was glad in a sweeping, translucent, rouge material with touches of white. It was the same with her stockings. Bridges of her claps, hanging, from her legs.

Her massive eye winked.

Shining looked over to his left to see the other giant culprit. Luna paid him no mind as she looked over her back—too focused on pulling the traditional maid skirt over her backside. Her mane had been done in a ponytail with winding wisps over her face.

Her stockings were lighter blue on darker white, and the same was true with her underwear too.

Her massive eye swept across the landscape, stopping in catching him.

Luna's smirk meant zero good.

The colt flipped onto his back to escape the two's view—only to see the third. Way off in the distance so in touching down her cap over her eye. There'd been a clasp of fabric on her neck. The charcoal of her outfit had been sprinkled with patches of gold.

Flexed between her legs was the vast expanse of golden underwear.

Celestia looked forlorn as she dressed.

And yet.

Shining couldn't but start crawling toward her.

Cadance never knew how much it tickled the mind to see her tiny stallion, dwarfed in the surrounding of her underwear, a little world of silk—not so little for him. He looked up at her in amazement of everything that she was.

And this made her happy.

Until he started crawling across the fabric and toward the oldest princess of them all. In seeing those panties going up ivory towers to attempt to cup the greatest posterior known to pony kind. How magic tugged at its edges, over the thickest clumps of that derriere, snaps ringing out of elastic onto softness.

Cadance immediately stepped into her underwear and cast the little one into a shadow. She didn't bestow him the gift of lying back, looking up, allowing him to see that which he would skyrocket into. Instead, the underwear shot into her bottom, digging right in, without much remorse behind it.

Her magic collected the heart-shaped claps and hooked them to her outfit, stretching the underwear to its limits, ensuring she could feel that itch that was pinned into her. Letting her skirt drop. She turned to the others.

"Alright then!" Cadance turned around and fell on her bottom, adding extra pressure to her passenger. She clapped her hooves before spreading them into the air. “Is everyone reaaady for princess maid-off!?”

Luna smirked and dropped her skirt.

Celestia, however, cocked her head and rose a hoof.

Cadance pointed at her ecstatically. "Yes?!"

"Did you just stuff Prince Shining Armor into your underwear?"

"Whaaaat? Nooo!" Cadance turned her head and waved the notion off. "You're seeing things. He's still on base away from here."

Celestia's lips pushed to the side as she strolled to the girl. Cadance stood and turned at once, even though no longer needing to give in to fear—Celestia evoked that in her anyway. Didn't help that she was still taller and bigger than the duo. "Are you sure about that?"

"Positive!" Cadance cleared her throat and struck out a hoof to the distant city. Her horn glowed and, out from the bags littered around them, floated out feather dusters, clothes, and other such accessories. "Now it's time to go in and fix Celestia's mess! Maybe even have a little completion of what princess can raise the most morale out of our subjects."

Luna grinned in stepping behind her. “What a fine idea indeed! We can see, in the present and equal times, who our subjects currently love the most!" The boom of Luna's giggles were acidic. "Well? How about it, Celly!?"

She looked over her shoulder and expected to see her sister, either with a head raised or lowered but, instead of this, what she saw was none. Celestia had dove her muzzle into Cadance's skirt and, looking at the plump vulva, noticed a bulge higher up on them.

"Definitely think someone forced Shining against your—"

Cadance prepared to kick Celestia in the face.

It was a known law, in the world of ponies, that 'normal' never lasted for long—and the strange quickly became stranger. Across the sidewalks of Manehatten was the crowding of ponies with guards blocking access to the roads. A massive feather duster entered the view behind them, a boom to that which was normally weightless.

The mass dusted back and forth as it swept across the lane, a cloud of grey, thin, rising from the currents. Chips of asphalt and pieces of debris were sucked into the depths of the duster—catching and becoming entwined in its thick strands.

Like a parade, the vehicle passed the on-lookers, with the next ride appearing next, the dropping of clothed, titanic hooves. Each was dressed in tanned-blue socks with intermittent lanes of white throughout its height.

Ponies cheered in the THUMP!! of every step as it rattled the sidewalk and launched them into the air: like being on a trampoline without the need of owning one. Whatever had not been caught by the duster, then, was covered in a shadow of a crater.

The hoof followed next. Dropping from the sky and summing an explosion of winds as vibrations broke underneath the ground. Little ponies enjoying the tickles at the underside of their hooves as some attempted to balance on it.

Few others, however, were a bit cheeky.

In the section where there was a touch more space between the lined guards, a group of ponies, of stallions and mares, the love, equal, as they snuck onto the road behind the gigantic mare. They galloped toward the distant figure as her back legs strode forward, a gait in her step, as the ponies looked up.

From the bend of those ankles to the black skirt above. How its ends twirled in a stride, a flounce on her step, each one, a shake to the mass beneath the fabric. The group soon reached the impact zone and looked forward. Between the four, soft pillars, to the view beyond.

The underside of Luna's muzzle floated as though a game of soccer could be played on it. Despite the ability to use magic, she bit the end of the duster, with a head cocked to the side, swiping up and down, working on cleaning the streets.

Unlike the other giant maids, this one actually seemed invested in the job.

It reached the point where the mass of mare had stopped in her tracks in approaching a cluster of wagons and newsstands. Bunched and broken and left in a heap by guards for her to clean. Her giant eyes rolled, and her horn glowed.

From behind and on top of a building, a duster had been laid, twice the height of its roof. It cast shadows onto the ground below, which ponies had gathered beneath, with a subtle bend of the building from nothing more than plastic.

Soon the instrument became consumed in an aura of magic and, on lifting, had produced groans from the building below. The pan flew across the area and slowed at Luna's side. She laid it on the ground in front, its end facing her, as she swept the mess into it.

Like a portable junkyard.

The ponies behind, however, had used her stopping to reach the base of her back legs. Some dared to even approach the thick, warmly spires, to lean into the clothing.

It was the cotton of a sock, now warmed by the flesh beneath, a layer of plushness over an essence of softness. Both ponies on both legs then, without shame, proceeded to look up. Being in the shadow of the skirt had not been enough.

They looked up to see the dim interior of the skirt. A glint of teal was curved inside of the darkness. Barely stretched over the thickest swell of the overhead flanks—what escaped its side, squeezed, to the capacity of its full volume.

That, and the bulge of a feminine thing that was strained below.

All ponies dreamily laid their heads on the roundness of the legs, content to watch the sky, in all the little ways it shifted. Of course the clearing of a throat, like thunder from that sky, did not dispel their trance either.

Luna huffed in seeing the little ponies looking up in a place off-limits. She strode forward without remorse. Each blotch of colour fell to the ground from the lack of support. In seconds they were lying on the road and, above, was the waterfall of a tail.

It came down and doused the lot in strands. Some being absorbed to its centers as nothing blue silk of blue coursed around them. It all then started to move, the tail dusting left and right, rolling the bunch, that was, until they were shot out from the depths of the hair.

And they were lucky—or maybe not—for none to have gotten tangled and have this fact go unknown by the giantess.

"Pesky little ponies!" Luna muttered as her head reared above the buildings to buy herself space from the tiny ones. "For decades I put all of my splendour into the night sky for them to enjoy it. Adjusting constellations and different arrays of shooting stars! Yet all that was needed for them to look up was the underside of a skirt!"

Her lofty eyes peered down at the lanes of ponies at a stretch across the sidewalks. She had the mind to give the crowd a piece of it. Without warning was how her back leg sliced into the front of a building, empty of course due to being an abandoned district, with aim dead-centre.

The mass of her hoof crunched all the way to the center of the structure before retreating. Parts rained from her leg as she put it back on the ground. The crowds turned in seeing the pillar decimate the towering structure. Even when it pulled out, and chairs and sofas were pelting from it pulling out, the ponies cheered as they scampered around.

The building possessed a perfect hole in the middle, showing that the floors, all of them, burnt to the same distance inside of it. In the center had been the reveal of the stairwell—or half of what remained of one. It wouldn't have been a surprise if there had been a pony, having gone up them, to look out from there, suddenly afraid, to the spontaneous opening in the wall.

Going up the steps to an explosion of sound. Sphere of a sock, the underside of a hoof, breaking into the stairwell. Seeing only the underside of a hoof as half the area collapsed and crumbled to below. Then that hoof pulling back, slowly as dust rained from all around it, to reveal the view to the outside world once more.

Or perhaps a massive eye that peered inside.

Luna grumbled, however, in the cheers to the crowd. Fear flashed in scaring the ponies that would ruin her plan. Yet even in this demonstration of anger, all of them gave their praises to the moon.

This would infuriate her further.

The giantess then raised a stock-foreleg high and, reaching the apex, slammed it down, in a blur with a whirl to winds, into the ground. Breaking into the road and carving into it like a knife slicing into cake. The hole went as far as her elbow as the masses were knocked around from the attack.

And yet.

"Luna! Luna! Luna!'

Her snarl wormed until there was a quaking behind and, soon enough, a pink hoof threw over her neck. She was pulled out and back and forced to stand straight. Beside her was Cadance, standing tall, wearing sunglasses, fancy with a rose-tint.

"Eaaaaasy now." Cadance smirked and talked through the corner of that. "This is the day we're supposed to be taking the monopoly of love away from Celestia. If you keep wrecking the city like she did—"

"But they're enjoying it!" Luna hissed in a whisper in lifting the criminal-foreleg as a whip of dust curved with its raise. "Can you not hear their chanting? It almost sounds like they would be satisfied if I took down this city in my anger!"

Cadance lowered the sunglasses further onto her muzzle and looked over the rim's top to the crowds. Little flashes of white with the cheering of the public further her grin. Looking from one side to another, a proper pop star, with a foreleg still over the sulk.

"Of course these ponies don't mind! They get to see a giant Luna wreck havoc! Must do a thing or two seeing a powerful girl upset." Cadance stuck out her tongue before seizing for a moment. Electric tickles doused from deep inside her tummy. Her cheeks coloured a deeper pink. "T-The ones that... o-oh my... one... one second here please!"

Luna rolled her eyes in pushing the sunglasses back on her aunt. Beneath the rims were eyes shutting up with twitching in trying to keep open. Cadance always made the dumbest expressions during... states like these. Corner of her lips, still at a tug, with a tongue attempting to escape through.

Luna sighed and, lacking a lot in social discourse, reached a foreleg to the back of her fellow mare. Behind her rump and below the cover of a tail. Her hoof traced the swell of the lips down to a sizable bump. Little twirling not for the sake of adding pleasure.

And yet.

"L-Luna! What are you—"

Luna found the minuscule pest and, in applying pressure, pulled him off from the sphere. Back to where there was a dip in the fabric over the slit. She pushed in from there, not caring for how improper her actions were—or just where she had banished the little stallion to.

"Maybe it will be a touch easier to speak when you do not have your special someone ringing your special bell." Luna pulled back her hoof to find it warmed—like held over a fire. It was a touch damp. Pulling it close invaded her nostrils with a rich perfume of mare. "Oh trouble. Certainly an easy one to excite—aren't you?"

Cadance's cheeks were red instead of pink and for a different reason altogether now. "Forgetting how morally apprehensive the last ten seconds were, yes, but that's better than the alternative—wouldn't you agree?"

Luna scowled.

"But these ponies couldn't care less in seeing you get mad and destroying a building or two—you're adorable when you're angry." Cadance smirked—although her lips pushed to the side. She looked over her back. "Uh-oh. Think you got him pinned back there. He might actually end up getting p-pulled—WOOOOAH!"

Cadance stepped forward from a nip on her nethers with a heart starting to race. She crashed over the crowd and into a building, carving it in with the shape of her chest, hugging the apartment for support. She flogged out her rump a touch more, it swinging by inches, dealing with the threat nestled inside.

"Oooooh hooooney... mhm... n-not now pleeeease?"

Luna covered her face with a hoof. The crowds turned from her to the other in heat. Cheering upward to the skirt that was pulled. The pink derriere loomed above on its lonesome. Swinging to the sides as Cadance's tail brushed across the street.

Her pink underwear had slipped from her cheeks, coming to dig into the divot between, riding in.

Confound these ponies! Luna started to curse in her head in falling back to a heap of midnight dough thumping into the street. Her skirt flounced up to reveal it before floating in a descent that soon covered the area. I thought they would be rational about this! Giant mare wrecks the town, and so giant maids come up to clean the mess! What is it about seeing a girl stomp around that causes them to drop all logical thought?

She shook her head as, before her, Candace's back legs were stepping back and forth. She was almost tempted to mount the mare to keep her still. Though that would further the chaos she was trying to prevent.

So long as Celly does not discover this—we should be alright. Luna's eyes swept across all the ponies gathering around her sitting form. They were nearly like pets for her entertainment. She smiled with a tilt of the head. And maybe if they enjoy seeing me be powerful... there can be some enjoyment from this, after all.

Celestia sighed in standing before the skyscraper of Manehatten, with a patch of it front, missing, and needing to be covered. All out of elegance, she summoned a roll of monolithic duck tape and, taping over the section, nodded at the work.

She looked over the back of her outfit to the view of the city. Over the roofs of buildings to the distant markers of mares. Luna was in the abandoned district, body low to a prone, still sweeping with her dustpan.

In a portion of the city called 'The Four Corners,' Cadance stood in the center of the square to the faraway right. In every corner stood a sky-rise building. Unlike Luna, she took a moment to admire herself in the reflected glass—like four mirrors made for her alone.

Cadance would wink at one and pushed out her rump at another. Catch herself with a surprise to the right and enter a demure state in looking to the one at the left. She was always practising with that. The ways to make herself more in every regard.

Though, after a while—and a distant hum from Luna—the sweet nephew got to work.

She had a light-pink cloth draped over her neck. Going to one of the buildings, and Cadance decided the best idea was to spit without having a spray bottle. Lightly onto the glass and smiling afterward. Then she took the cloth into a hoof and started to wipe.

Of course the girl didn't know her strength as, in the first press of the cloth, she sank her hoof into the glass and tore at the flooring. Her hoof yanked back, in the protection of the cloth and her stocking, to the short rain of glass from the entry.

Her cheeks coloured red and she turned her head, covering most of her face with mane, the previously practised looks, working now, as the working ponies inside didn't much mind. She went to laugh—but stopped. Once more her muzzle shot to the sky with eyes closing tight.

Celestia turned from the building with a confused expression in peering at her troublesome nephew. She'd inducted a strange family, no doubt. Watching as the mare was losing control of her body.

Cadance rose a hoof to her chest to draw circles in the lands of pink fluff. Puffing them as her back leg was starting to kick out. Celestia narrowed her eyes as it wasn't quite that. More so the mare was pushing out her leg than pulling it in, flexing it—or flexing the stretch of her underwear.

Then another shudder tore through her as the colossal mare stumbled backward. Cadance was looking back at her flanks and saying something to them. Celestia's mouth opened although to no words. Although guilt was still on her mind to the two mares that abused her for it—slowly, even that waned in the coming strangeness.

Cadance was rocked forward from an invisible attack and, with a cry of her own, danced back into one of the buildings. Her lesson with her hoof taught the right amount of pressure to put on it. Those insides did not mind the heart-shaped shadow that backed and darkened the twenty stories of flooring.

Didn't she just wipe that one down?

How did all of this look to all the little ponies throughout the floors? The approaching darkness and gusts of winds from the incoming masses? Crowds looking beyond the panes of glass to the massive derriere backing into the building.

The establishment rocked from impact as dense pink layered onto the glass. Sealing darkness as its pressure and suction increased against the windows. Soon a growl of moan sounded from afar.

The floor rocked forward and back, and the panes of the ceiling knocked loose from the thumping of the princess. Lights blowing and wiring falling from the ceiling as the panty-rump inched forward before crashing back. The booms were rhythmical. Items knocked from desks during each one.

The ponies on the lower floor were more apt to see the base of the pink-strawberry underwear. Fields of silks sucked into the slit, strained and defining its shape. At its bottom, a soft boulder nudged into the fabric. The round mass possessed a bulge at its underside curve—a stallion splayed into a broad hug.

This stallion would have been crushed, now and long before, with a rump sent into buildings. Yet the massive flanks acted like shock absorbers, becoming thicker on pressure, further straining the underwear, pinning him into the clit's sweet spot.

Meanwhile, far away, the other giant princess lowered from her back legs, coming onto her front again. Celestia strolled across the city with a body peeking over the tops of the buildings. In reaching Cadance, the smaller, younger mare was fully bent down.

Muzzle with her forelegs and ass backed fully into the glass. Long wipes up and down, around and around, cleaning the spit that was there. Celestia cleared her throat. Cadance broke from her daze and glanced up. "O-Oh. Hey."

Where was the fairness in all of this? Celestia looked to the building, from which the pink booty peeled from. Heart shape imprint of ass left on the glass. Her giant muzzle peered into the floor of tinies to see them all knocked back: glad.

Her mouth opened.

But.

"O-Oh no! Luna! Luna—stop that!" Cadance bolted from the ground with crunches of her hooves tearing away chunks of stone. She sped from the sector to down the main street where, in the city's central plaza, the other giantess was set in a game. "You're not supposed to step on them! Bad giantess!"

Celestia pulled up from behind with no mind to how the sides of her skirt caught to the edges of some buildings, the force of stepping forward, sometimes ripping the top corners of buildings and raining the remains down below.

She strolled to the plaza where Luna stood in the middle of, an angry muzzle in the sky to the ponies below, those running around her hooves, which she lifted and dropped onto them—missing by inches. Cadance bumped her hips into Luna's. "Hey, hey! What are you trying to do?"

"These little pests here! Yes! All of you.” Luna growled and, like a cat, began a flurry of hooves into the ground. Ponies leapt seconds from the impact zones of her hooves as the giantess's forelegs started to cross. "Kept running underneath my hooves as I was trying to clean! It's like they were trying to get stepped on!"

Cadance coughed. "P-Probably a few that would like to be stepped on by you."

"Then their wish will be fulfilled!"

"Lunaaaaa!" Cadance grabbed the next downward hoof and instead placed it gently down. She looked at the cast of laughing ponies and, setting a hoof in front of their back, also scooped another from behind. She swept them onto her sole and lifted the platform. "This is not how we win approval! Here."

Cadance's muzzle leaned into one of Luna's stockings and, biting the article's band, pulled it back a touch. Her other hoof came in and sprinkled the ponies around its shape. Not enough that they would wall deep—rather a shallow pouch.

Once done, her teeth let go, the band snapping around, pleasantly, into all the little subjective. Like being tucked into a ride, they all threw up their hooves, waiting for it to begin, always in the shadow of the overhead skirt.

Those on the side bend of the thigh were able to look long to the right, seeing the muzzle of the giantess drop, set in a hover and glaring at them. The cloud of her mane, billowing, as she did not seem amused.

"Thigh rides! Give 'em a try! Never even got the chance to do em' with Shining... yet."

Cadance sauntered off from the group, lowering in her travels to pick up the dropped duster, intent on resuming her duties. This left the two sisters standing side by side. Celestia looked down as Luna only came up to her shoulders.

The mare huffed.

Then hip-checked her.

Those bound to the thighs' squishy flesh were in for a ride as the above hips swung back only to swing forward. How the above hips knocked into the ones of white and the poor other was knocked off balance. They watched that titanic rump break into the top portion of some store. Then, with a slow rise and a quick drop, their ride was off.

Celestia was forced to flap her wings hard to regain balance. Stepping forward to see the gait of her sister. How she walked the lane of the street, with the sidewalks filled with following ponies—much less the cheering ones in the band of her stocking.

She sighed. It was empty, none here to see the cute sailor turned maid looking to the ground around her. Celestia dropped her keister onto the land to the quake it summoned around. Leaning her back into the building, it bent and groaned, and she slid furthermore—deciding to be lazy.

I just can't get a grasp on what it is I'm supposed to do today.

Her gaze flicked to the new opening in the high store.

Suppose I could apologize for that for now.

The back of Celestia's body kept limp as she supported herself on bent forelegs. The edge of her muzzle flew into the gap in the structure. The floors were empty—save for the top. Her giant eyes were forced to narrow on the little barber chair.

And at a stallion she recognized.

"Sir Castaway?"

Castaway sat back in his seat, mane washed back and doused with bubbles, the rest of his facial hair cleanly trimmed. He was sitting and waiting for the conditioner to set, alone to think when, suddenly, a foot to his left—the floor caved in.

Few seconds after that entered the massive muzzle of white. It consumed the space with few rainbow vines floating in: like a dinosaur peeking into a building. The mare's eye now settled on him.

Her mighty snout wrinkled. "Sir Castaway?"

He shuffled in his chair. "Destiny must be playin' me funny for us to keep meetin' like this." He did his best to sit properly. Although it was much harder to get comfortable in these seats—much less when a warm breeze from a mare breathed frequently. "And forget that whole business about 'sir'. Heck. As you can see—I hardly do a good job of evn' being a stallion!"

Celestia's muzzle was frozen for a while. Then it laughed. Sweetness booming off the walls in a softness that made him forget it was loud. Her lips pulled into a smile that would have taken him for one hell of a ride. "I-I was about to say... you look ridiculous!"

"The foam beard a touch much?"

Celestia laughed. "Why do you even have it!?"

"Lady assured me now it was the quickest and finest way of bringing out the shine in whatever was left of it." Castaway wanted to fiddle with his hooves and do so, underneath the cover of black tarp laid on his front. "Don't know how many dates yer bringin' tomorrow—figured I needed to look the fanciest of them all to stand a chance."

Celestia's muzzle cocked on instinct and, because of this, the bridge of her snout tore into the ceiling. She flicked back down and rubble from the damage. Her muzzle wiggled in place to rid herself of it as she spoke. "O-Others? W-Whatever do you mean?"

"It means... well, t-that I got to thinkin' an all that." Castaway's shoulders dropped as he looked into the side of Celesta's face—into the one eye of vibrant pink. "Today's yer day of kickin' it real, yeah? So it makes sense that I... wouldn't be the only one on that list."

"List?"

"You got what I mean."

"I... don't think you will have to worry about some list." Celestia's eye looked away from him, a feeling of sadness washing the floor. It jerked him from the chair as his hoof escaped the tarp to wipe out his beard. "My subjects aren't... too happy with the fun had in their city today."

"What? Horse cocky! Who's been feedin' you that nonsense?"

Celestia's muzzle laid on the floor like a dog's might on the ground, looking forward, drained and not wanting to be here. Her clearing throat rumbled vibrations across the zone as she spoke. "Just the reactions I've seen on ponies. Much less my sister and niece."

Castaway dropped from the chair and strode to the opening in the ground, standing before it, before the demure giantess. "Now you rewind this all a touch. I know a few troublesome ponies and a squandering sister ain't enough to get you down." His hoof reached out, over the ledge, to stroke the cheek of white. "Now tell me what's really goin' on inside."

Celestia's eyes shot down onto the floor as she grumbled. "Today's not going like I wanted it to. I got excited and broke a few buildings, and now everypony hates me."

"Now, just when the heck did you turn into a teenager!" Looking through the gap between building and mare revealed a glimpse of the distant outfit. "Much less sailor to maid! Your family trick you with that? Clean up your messes and all?"

Celestia nodded. Which entailed her snout breaking through the ceiling and her jaw chipping away the floor. "Mmhmm."

"Lemme guess another factor here." Castaway backed from the cavity of the building for the sake of his safety. "Your family is also doin' little tricks to win 'em favour with the masses? Maybe doing a couple of things you wouldn't?"

"My niece backed her rump into a building to wipe it down."

Castaway blinked at that with an expression that said—

"And don't you say you wished you could have been there!"

His forehooves went up. "Wasn't even thinkin' about it."

They went back down as the stallion was thrown into thought. What was the right thing to say here? Celestia being happy was worth any cost involved—he was sure others felt this way as well. Anyone trying to stop that though...

"Listen here. I'm gonna speak from the heart on this and... well, my heart ain't known for always being morally right." He coughed and stood tall as he focused entirely on the big mare. "I think you're quite possibly one of the greatest gals to have ever lived. And that a lot of ponies right now... need ya to just be yourself."

Celestia's eye flashed onto him. "But I've caused a lot of trouble to ponies today."

"Only cause none had any idea what was goin' on! I'm sure you've noticed by now just how many happy folks are glad to keep around you giants now?" Celestia's nod was smaller this time. Barely a lift and a drop. But it was enough. "I talked to a few of them throughout the day. Thought it would be a hassle even dealin' with you. But you know what I found?"

The princess didn't need to nod.

"That after the beginning trouble period—that you were well worth the trouble." Castaway stepped forward again and, with a risk, laid his hoof on the cliff of cheek. "Lot of ponies were starting to get bored. Nothing new or exciting happening. Just the same old to the next same old."

His hoof stroked the ivory garden.

"Then you come around, looking as cute and adorable as you do, rocking every guy or gal could want underneath it all." He chuckled. "I'm serious. You in that sailor outfit with a wink and a tip of the hat was nearly enough to pop all of us off—you're perfect in that thing."

"You think I looked good?"

"You'll replace the word soon enough for how good you were in it." That was a lousy compliment but, then again, it wasn't often that he paid any. "And you havin' fun? That's exactly what folk were needin'."

He looked out to the city from the side of Celestia's neck. "So what if you were tearing through town? It brought life back to ponies. Being able to see you stomping through the streets or havin' fun with a building. You cast an effect on anyone that looks at you. Able to change so many days within the span of one."

Celestia blinked. Looked away. Her muzzle pulled.

Castaway worried about saying something wrong, but instead, she laid her muzzle on its side and scooted it toward him. He barely stood above her bottom nostrils as she nudged into his little form. He went back, with a laugh, into petting the area.

"But what about all that damage?"

"Truth is we need it, Tia." Castaway smiled in finding a spot that drew a twitch from the immensity. Her eyes, stacked on a side, watching his little figure. "Like all those zany adventures that student of yours did. Wreak a little havoc, and everybody has some fun. Deviates us from the norm for a while."

He chuckled. "All that chaos will fill us for a bit. Then it's off to rebuilding and re-doing and what not. Getting to feel like tomorrow won't just be another yesterday." His hoof dropped for a moment. "Course you can't be doin' this all the time. But all it takes is a day of fun to change the course of the next few months."

Celestia was silent for a long while as she let the thoughts develop in her head. Not quite what he wanted to preach—but something close to reaching it. Always it bit at Castaway in being unable to nail that which he preached.

"Maybe... perhaps... all of that is right." Celestia's voice sounded from behind the feminine structure—her breath, warm, filling the place. "Would certainly explain how those two were so easy to start enjoying themselves. B-But even then..."

"Huh."

The backdrop of Celestia's eyes blinked. "Hmm?"

Castaway shook his head and resumed his efforts. "Nothing nothin'. Just... never expected for greatness to be able to get insecure—was thinkin' it was a purely 'mortal' thing." He chuckled. "Good thing about reassuring perfection is that you've got no reason to lie."

"You think I'm perfect?"

"Everyone does—even them family of yours." The breathing fur sounded its compulsion for him to come in, arms opening and chest falling onto the spread, sinking into whiteness, rubbing into smoothness. "Why do you think they were so set on holdin' you back? That pink one has always been a narrow gal from those posters."

Celestia couldn't suppress a giggle.

"So those two have to be willing to do everything you won't to keep up." His cheeks burnt hot, and suddenly, it felt wrong to be so submerged in snowy fluff. "And, uh, i-in comparison of you to those others... ya... got them beat in nearly every category... feminine... and otherwise."

"Shall I take that as a compliment?"

"Take it in any way that doesn't get me crushed."

"And if I were to crush you with something you'd liiiike?"

Castaway pushed his chest from the fuzz and looked to his left, to the billboard face of the mare, whose eyes were half-lidded and smugness set on her expression. He pumped a foreleg into the air. "There's the princess I've been waiting for! That's exactly what those two were needin' for you to hold back."

"Or else what?"

"Or else you'd take 'em down with ease."

Celestia's muzzle flew into him, nuzzling him, a contact he was quick to return. Few seconds passed before he stepped back, and the muzzle pulled out. Her face still loomed in the gap, now, however, more determined.

"Think I have a few family members I need to put in their place."

The stallion held a foreleg over his chest as he nodded. "And a city to rock to its foundations."

Celestia pulled out from the building and, on her departure, the view of the city returned. The road below and the plaza not too far away. The mare turned—and kept her back facing him. She smiled. "And for the record, Mister Castaway, the only stallion I would want to explore back there.”

The dome of black fabric floated up to reveal the indescribable. Large flanks barely contained in the spread of tight white underwear. They were squeezed at their sides and further bunched by them. The girl gave a rise and a drop to the pair, the heavy smack of the twins able to send many to war.

And with a drop of the skirt.

Celestia was gone.

VIII | Auntie and Niece

~ VIII ~

Auntie and Niece

Princess Celestia stepped back from the opening in the building, uncaring that it was the fault of her destruction, rather, wagging her rump to the vast spread of dust and debris. Those on the streets below ran from the raining pieces.

Although none screamed.

The mare came to stand in the center of the square with a bit more power in her step. Not caring for the hoof, crunching into the pavement, like it were sand on the beach. Summoning asphalt around it, clumps of smoothness, in leaving a crater of her hoof mark.

The ponies on the sidewalk looked on, with jaws dropped, stunned, more so in amazement. Watching that hoof lift seconds later to the pelting of stone and scattered remains of pipes. They looked up to their goddess, beyond the sea of white fluff that was from her collar, up high, at the side of her muzzle.

Undulating mane billowed over it, a smoky look, revealing but an eye, a nearly close, glowing one. She winked at them, it, like a gunshot, blasting a couple of ponies into the building behind. With a giggle, the giantess looked forward, raising her muzzle, over the tops of apartments, to the strutting niece in pink.

There was a talk in order.

Cadance endured the flashes of all the little cameras with glee, long forgetting her duster and pan, which laid on top of some building far away. She took a pose after pose, the need to strut, compelling, as the four corners were amassed with overflowing ponies.

So distracted by this as to miss the thundering behind her.

It did not occur to Cadance that she had a pony waiting on her, that was until the little flashes couldn't light the shadow that had been cast over her. She squeaked as her ears drooped at her sides. Prancing around in place, she looked up, way up, to the figure of so many attributes.

"Celly! I mean Celestia! Hey there! Hi there! Hello there!" She was coughing and sweating and still in the shadow of the majestic one. What had happened? What was with the sudden shift of tone? "D-Did you finish cleaning up your side of your mess? G-Great! Say... could you take over for me?"

It didn't help that Celestia was tall, broad, and composed of perfection. So much that the street was no longer enough to consume her as the buildings were hugging the sides of her barrel. Had she gotten bigger? The princess took a step forward in time for Cadance to take one back.

"Woah there! Careful or else your flanks will—"

Celestia did not seem to care as her bubbles of white tore through the corners of several complexes, a chip as the slots of bricks, from each one, fell and struck into alleyways. There they collapsed and disintegrated as the swells leapt and bounced and quivered into stillness.

Cadance was but a filly cowering before a mare.

What was she supposed to say here? What was she supposed to do? Cadance checked by her hooves and underneath her tail, seeing all those amassed ponies, those little things, starting to cower away as well. They watched on, her feeling of bigness, now removed, as she was nothing but a little girl now standing in the middle of a playset.

She looked up at Celestia and at her sides. How easily that barrel stole a lane and demanded extras. Or that maid outfit, buttoned tightly, now worn loose, chest fluff like a sprouting forest from there.

"You've been a naughty one, haven't you, dear Cadance?"

"Whaaaa me? Couldn't be!" Cadance whipped her foreleg from the street, knocking a miniature sign flying in pushing a hoof to her chest. She looked left and right with a lowered muzzle and eyes barely able to look up. "You're thinking of Luna. She's the one responsible. I didn't do anything that she didn't rope me into!"

Celestia was shaking her muzzle, although the movement was so delicate, as to be smaller than a twitch. But Cadance saw it, recognized it, and feared it. Her snout bunched and wrinkled as Celestia's lowered from the sky.

"I wasn't referring to that... although... thank you for tattling on my troublesome sister for me."

"I-I... you... uhm..."

"Whatever is the matter, dear niece? So proud to assert yourself but moments ago—and bully your auntie not even an hour prior." Celestia subtly clicked at her teeth, allowing a warm breath to escape her lips—washing over the smaller girl. "Not to mention taking that little husband of yours and trapping him in those delicate panties. Was that also Luna's idea? Here I thought the two of you had issues."

"Whaaaat? Luna and I? Best friends... best friends!"

Celestia giggled. Softly with a touch of weight. Like a ball of warmth, a sun in of itself, exuding heat. Her long muzzle passed over Cadance's, drifting to a pause over her ears. More hums echoed above. Soon a foreleg draped over the smaller mare.

"Would you lie to me? To your auntie?"

"Uhhh..."

"Because there's already so much you've kept hidden from me." Celestia enjoyed a self-satisfied hum as her foreleg tugged Cadance into the fluff of her chest. The latter fought it, wiggling in place, shifting with stepping legs. Her underwear flexed to changes noted by the passenger inside them. "Ever since you had that stallion swear to you, you've been careful about keeping him around me."

Cadance's face was buried in the warm, snowy forest, when it flared to the purring of the older princess. She tensed in place in ceasing her struggles. Celestia's voice was heard from through her chest. "Even though he was in my guard and would stumble in my presence. Now that I'm gigantic, I haven't gotten to see him once—do you know why?"

"He's sick! Terrible ill! At home with the cough and runs and—"

"He's currently nestled deep in your wonderland, caught between those rolling flanks, or submerged in a place now usually talked about by family." Celestia released a long sigh as her foreleg released her charge. Cadance could barely stumble out of the shadow in time. "Some fillies hide their colts in their rooms or closest. Yet, now you have been tucked away in your special area to keep him from me."

Celestia lunged forward before Candace could scamper into a turn, twisting and, from the impact, toppling onto her side. She slid into the front of a bank, its golden symbol, blasting to the side, crunching into the street, rolling away, as the mare's back crashed through its entrance.

Cadance could barely collect herself from the plastic glass before being aware that she was lying on her back. Spreading her legs and looking between her thighs, she saw the giantess, prone low, the sides of her rump, swelling and cracking into buildings.

There was a scream and a yelp and the need to crawl back while, at the same time, feeling a bugle resting on the curve of her lower lover. Someone had risen above the current and was swimming out from her lips. With a hitched breath, closed eye, and frazzled hair, Cadance crawled back.

Crawling and crawling and dragging her rump into tearing a divot through the street with softness alone. Desperation flooded her as the predator continued to stalk forward without losing its composure. Soon it was gaining.

Cadance flipped onto her stomach and went flying onto her hooves when, suddenly, the ground behind, seriously crunched, and the sounds of blimp-sized mortars whizzed overhead. The shadow passed over the mare as she turned. And she did so in time to capture the arrival.

Four hooves slammed and crushed and crunched into the street and quaked the ground worse than any earthquake. Buildings around wobbled with others tumbling from the conquest. Celestia landed with a flush of violent winds as she started down the other mare.

And brought her muzzle in close enough for a kiss.

Cadance's eyes blasted open in the sudden affection and was at a loss to scream. Muffled words and subtle moans to be sure. Then her body started to weaken. Relaxing. Lips twice the size of her own, softer and more immense, coated in so much fur as to tickle her infinitely.

Attempting to push forward was futile as, in every summoning of power, Celestia would match, effortlessly, with a touch more. Cadance fought to push and, every time, she found herself leaning back from the force of the kiss.

And the bliss caused her to not give a shit.

Soon her thumping rump settled onto the street as the spread of silk had settled onto the sidewalks, the rest of her barrel, its length devouring the lane, all the way across the road and other sets of buildings.

Celestia's hooves stomped around her, consuming the land like sudden spires, ones that towered even to her. Cadance was dwarfed as the titan settled over her, kissing with the taste of strawberries, the fruit, somehow changing, transitioning in the passing seconds.

Cadance couldn't help but squeal, to cross her legs, the bulk of her thighs, crossing and smudging, as the buttery release doused from her slit. Little stains warmed the underwear as a musky sauna brewed within. Concentrated heat developing between her folds and nipping on their length.

The kiss, suddenly, had broken. Cadance didn't even know her eyes were closed until they opened in a half-lidded state, looking up to the auntie that she loved, in ways already realized. She chased after those lips with her own, which were a brighter pink, warmer than ever, supple and brushed, feeling like they never had.

"But the problem with keeping him on you, dear," Celestia began as her muzzle lowered to Cadance's neck, nuzzling there, nipping and licking, blowing a breath on her drooped ear. "Is that I know exactly how to flush him out."

Cadance had to stifle the next whinny in her throat as all her pink furs became a puffed wonderland. So warm and heated and itchy all over. Sensitive skin with a case of light burning all over. Every exhale was a cloud of steam. Forelegs weak, bones, brittle, willpower, draining.

Another douse of honey had splashed out from between folds and was like a torrent splashing the interior of her underwear. No doubt Shining had been dislodged with that, clung to the curve of pink, on the matted surface, turning back to the tender dams, seeing the tidal wave stroke the air before its crash.

"Careful there, dear, or those thighs of yours will crush him." Cadance couldn't fight the foreleg digging itself beneath her barrels of pink, at the base underneath them, a hoof locked to her crotch. It swiped up, separating her legs, as they plummeted, now spread, onto the opposing sidewalks. "Although they're certainly softer and bigger than mine. You have me beat in one place, at least."

Cadance had tried to usher out words but found her throat could produce no more. Celestia laid on her side, beside her, propped a little, dwarfing Candace in length. She drew the hoof over to her belly, that soft, tender thing, drawing circles, puffing the thatches of violet, sinking into the softness.

"What happened to you? The princess of love and lust, always so in charge, able to lead on anybody?" Celestia smiled with a hum as she never quite looked at Cadance, whose head laid on the street, a lost gaze up at her auntie. She, however, was still looking far down the filly. "Throwing that husband in your underwear and able to get my sister into a maid outfit. The constant public you've teased in merely being yourself—yet, you're silent around me."

Cadance's mouth opened finally to speak until the rolling hoof had gone lower, following the inward curve of her bottom. She bit her teeth, grunted, eyes clenching, hips rocking. Fighting to not flick them, and yet, loving her smallness whacking into the broadness of that white hoof.

"Whatever could that meeean, dear niece of mine?" Celestia hummed as her muzzle dove into Cadance's chest, a nuzzle to that pink garden, as her upward rubbing led into the crook underneath Cadnace's jaw. Even though these were submissive actions—they felt like anything but. "Is it possible that you hate me? Don't like me? Jealous of me? Or..."

Cadance watched as the titanic muzzle floated into view above her chin, deciding to keep there, that mass of mane covering a side of Celestia's face. Her eye was the only thing. Glimmering magenta. Soft glow, nothing more, its colour, vigours and bright, the more one concentrated on it.

"Could it mean you feel something else about me?"

The princess did not move. Not a twitch of the neck or a stroke of the hoof. Keeping there. Supple lips an inch apart, as to tease invaders, a challenge to conquer them. Cadance sat up a little, panting, unable to speak. Too warm, too fogged in the head.

And too much in love.

Cadance was the one to lean forward and plunge herself upon the queen, firmly kissing Celestia as though it were an addiction and this was the drug. Eyes closing and lips meshing, gently, delicately, nothing feverishly about it—rather the raw impulses of a virgin.

Celestia had that power on ponies.

She returned the kiss, of course, kissing back, a few locks, slowly captured, longingly held, a gentle interaction of both sides. Enough to show that, underneath the use, that all of this was not a game. In the few more gentle kisses that followed, two big mares, with their eyes closed, as harmony flooded the street.

As did something else.

Behind that loving spectacle, crowds of ponies formed behind their hind legs, staring on, snouts twitching to the change in the air. Moisture with the touch and taste of a mare's wetness. A thick scent, fumigated, from inside one's underwear.

And a poor stallion that would be unable to get the smell of his wife's sex out of his coat for weeks.

They watched on, though, to the ship of mare laid on her back, to how her flanks elated her from the ground, if only a little, to have her mounds higher in the air. Valley crafted by toned thighs and leading into the crook and cliff of her crotch. Her vulva bulged in a titanic sight against the underwear, the whole area, wet, damp, and leaking at the sides.

Trickles of streams, quite literal streams to the tines, seeping out from the leg holes of the underwear. Drizzling down the pinkness of the thighs as they curved across them, downward, before dripping at their bottom.

To the left of this was Celestia, twin legs stacked on each other, denying a view inside her skirt. Her tail, a near Milkyway in its own right, flogged out from there. It criss crossed over the length of her legs. The end of the tail, its bulk, washed and rested on the roof of a building.

And the onlookers did what they did best.

Which was to look on.

Celestia had finally inched back from the kiss, a bridge of saliva connecting them, until distance severed it, the structure collapsing, at its middle, onto the sea of a coat. Cadance blinked open to her love. That gentle eye, that soft smile, letting her be certain of what had just come.

Until that eye narrowed and those lips shortened into a smirk.

"To think I have you like this already without the need to try," Celestia mentioned with a smile, a hoof set to Cadance's chest, stroking down. "No wonder you hid your husband in your underwear to hide him from me. The problem is though, dear, is that I know exactly where to find him—and take him."

Cadance bolted alive at those words as fears of the past were flashing in her mind. The day she took her husband and announced that fact to Celestia, the both of them in a kneel, and yet, when it came to rising, she did so, easily, and Shining... was frozen in place for a few seconds more.

Staring up when his head was supposed to be bowed. Needing to shake it to stand and, even then, stumbling in place like after a decadent drink of femininity. Celestia had only laughed to herself, and Cadance flicking him with her tail, had done nothing to reprimand him.

"I am sure you are aware of this but, when all three of us played that game not so long ago, it was not your husband's wish to become so tiny." Celestia's hoof reached the sleek curve of Cadance's fabric, not minding it was wet, stroking it, pushing, gently, down at times at the bulged mounds. "Rather it was to see mares rendered wonderfully large. This day off came partly inspired by his truest desire."

Then that hoof inched down, to the right, on the bump, so little, minuscule and, of someone to their size, should have been unpredictable. Yet Celestia's hoof found the clump in the underwear, the tiny stallion, pinned into the density of Cadance's vulva.

Celestia then stared down at Cadance from above. "Don't you think it's a shame, then, that he hasn't gotten to see me yet? Destroying a building with my rump and posing for that photoshoot was to give him material for later. But what's better than a magazine than getting to be there?"

Cadance attempted to sit up to feel twin wings, launched at once, crashing into her shoulders. She slammed back into the ground, no harm or hurt, but sending cracks throughout the road and a tumble across nearby sidewalks.

"Such a poor stallion in having his dreams come true in us three mares, unable to see it, from the world inside your legs. Trapped on flexing fabric and shifting flanks." Celestia's hoof worked up, with the right amount of pressure, to guide the little body over the thickest roll of those lips. "Don't you think it's time he got out to experience all of this? Much less let him spend some time with me?”

"No! Nuh-huh! He's my Shining!” Cadance made the desperate bid to roll, battering the ground with the broadness of her hips, managing to flip onto her belly. She broke free of the hold, scampering forward, even if in a crawl. "I won't let you have him or steal him away!"

She was a few feet away when, from the sides of her vision, those massive spreads of wingtips entered. Teasing her as they flexed, struck down, and wrapped to the bend of her shoulders. From there, they yanked back, and the mare slid as well—into immediate pressure on her behind.

Cadance could barely look over her shoulder to see the larger mare hovering her fallen frame, not, however, without a hind leg set between Cadance's back legs. Celestia smiled with a tilted muzzle as she brought her knee into the exposed bottom of her niece.

Cadance struck her head forward, eyes rolled back and muzzle lifting up, unable to fight the flood of pleasure rocketing across her spine. Feeling her flanks being pressed on, mushed, as that kneed worked into her pussy. Rolling around, pressing, releasing, at certain spots, on delicate itches.

Soon her muzzle could not sustain the weight to hold its mass any longer as, in the second next, it crashed, collapsed, and rested on the street. Jaw connecting sidewalk to sidewalk as Cadance laid defeated. From her left, an edge of white entered her corner view.

"This is the second time you've tried to run from me now—and look at this mess of love that's being made for your love." Celestia's muzzle backed from view and, after that, came a lick at the back of Cadance's ear; a nuzzle, there, came with a whisper. "You're close, aren't you, about to drown that lover of yours. Yet I can't trust you not to bolt again."

Cadance faintly felt being rolled onto her back, that leg nudging in her bottom, backing away and, those wings, coming and burying into the bottom of her barrel—and lifting. Her spine collapsed onto the road as the boom of contact quaked the surroundings.

No sooner than she had been on her back that another force started to pin it into the ground. Celestia had clambered aboard the smaller mare, coming to sit on the top of Cadance's bottom, doubling its size, the same true to the rest of her.

Cadance was squeezed, pinned, and squished. Nearly unable to breathe from the pleasant weight that was draped across. Feeling the bend of her back legs, set to the sky, starting to be pushed back.

Celestia had locked her legs into the bend of Cadance's in clambering onto the latter's rump, allowing the bigger mare to firmly take a seat on the smaller, plump ass, which was now clear. Cadance did her best to cross her legs over the sides of Celestia's barrel as to lock her in place—but came short over the bend of her back.

On the street, the onlookers looked on with amazement as nothing could be seen beyond the stacks of monolithic booties. Height and width and size, consuming the whole of the lane, nothing but the collection of ass able to be seen as they towered to the tops of the flanking buildings.

Cadance laid on her back and was unable to move, feeling the other mare laying on top of her, easily, due to the difference of size, spilling over the sides of her body. Even that massive ass dwarfed her own to the point of nearly submerging it into its own.

"Almooost right aaaaaand!" Celestia rubbed her rump back and forth, a lift and a drop, adjustments, that shook the foundations of the city. Carts knocked onto their sides; crates rattled apart. "Mmhmm! There we go! That should have him."

Cadance blinked at those words before feeling, in the overall immensity snuffing her posterior, delicate pressure rolled on her sex by the greatness of another. The bigger mare had aligned the curves of those feminine bulges as to be flattened, squished, and quivered against by the other.

And then the larger mare started to rock back and forth, to grind over the roll of their rolling lips, tracing them, to their full extent, before resetting again. Letting little pricks of pleasure emerge in the flattened density of flesh.

Cadance could do nothing as the most incredible euphoria in her life started to erupt in her nethers and found its release via her throat. Moaning like a delicate angel of love with a pitch belonging in an opera. It started low, building in a rhythm, a hushed breath, followed by an elongated moan, the glass of stores, shattering forevermore.

All she could do was twitch her rump beneath tons more of the stuff in feeling awash in overwhelming softness. She loved to cling herself to Shining. Loving his hardness and nuzzling into his muscles.

Celestia wasn't like that, and yet, Cadance wanted to cling to it all the same. The sheer density of those flanks, which spilled over her rump, smothered around the curve of her thighs, still had vast amounts to be jostled in the air.

An incalculable weight snow ice cream that rose, collecting and compressing at their underside, the thickest swell to ever be known, until dropping all of its mass onto the tiny ass of the other princess. How it fell, flooding the space around that crotch, washing into the erect legs, and jiggling into the open space all around it. Titanic couldn't describe it. In its every drop, the street shook, buildings forced into a wobble, a thunderous boom scaring away any possible lightning.

And Celestia did not care for the destruction she brought in any of this, leaning over her partner, a foreleg around Candace's neck, driving her into the nook of her open top. Into the warm darkness of white fluff and the scent that was trapped within.

The near taste of vanilla peppermint on the snout.

Soon the rises and drops, the release and reapplication of immense weight on Candace's bottom, began to wane. Celestia pinned herself so, crotch to crotch, to thrust—finding a little nudge in the other's underwear. A clit, peaking out, with a short body, underneath the thickness of silk, splayed to the soft bolder of joy.

Celestia concentrated her hips on this, in a slow melody, a little perpetration starting beneath the coat. Beginning to lose herself a little as flicks transitioned into thrusts once more. Little goodness to tide herself over from the lack of a usual conclusion.

"Do you like this, dear? Being ridden by your auntie?" Celestia smiled in holding Cadance to her chest, an attentive nose, flicking and burying itself into her skin, sniffing, licking, and kissing. "Knowing that your little love is trapped between us. Crushed beneath me. Don't you worry about him crawling out and jumping ships?"

That loving snout, although slowing, did not stop.

"I fear for how lost he would get back there," Celestia went on with a giggle to a glance over the side of her barrel, back at her rump, which, with a grin, she jostled left and right and sent her flanks into an assault of bounces. "I never mention how well endowed in certain... areas. But I'm certainly not clueless. I wonder if I could even be able to feel him should he be tossed beneath my band—if clenching would even pinpoint him."

Celestia laughed. "Although I might crush him by mistake... though, those walls are probably soft enough." She then shook her head in following this dirty strand of logic. Cadance seemed more intent to bury herself into Celestia. Rocking her hips and crotch back into Celestia's as she had gone idle. "And if the poor dear were to take a plunge inside... oh my! I simply would not know if he were between my flanks or a certain depths instead! Whatever would I dooooo?"

Celestia lowered her muzzle to the back of the one buried into her top. "Thankfully, I have you."

Cadance finally stopped, as Celestia crashed her bottom into hers again, starving off helpless thrusts for but a moment.

"Why if I were ever so worried that I had lost the poor stallions, thankfully, I have a little, loving niece, that doesn't mind being those two things to the fullest." Cadance licked at Cadance's ears as the mare, now hidden in the top, was now, more so, for new reasons. "Why! I wouldn't even have to toss little you in my panties now, would I? I could either set you on my back or my tummy, holding opening the vast, colossal waistband before you—and you would go marching in."

Celestia then snickered to herself. "That way. I could go back strolling through the city, as my flanks flex and stretch my fabric that, somewhere deep inside, a very dedicated mare was looking through the warm darkness for her love."

Another laugh at that. "Oh yes. Enduring the shifting of gigantic flanks and crawling into their depths." Then a surprised moan, drawn-out, for the sake of showing how it could echo to the one still pressed against her. "Then needing to take a plunge and explore deep inside a large cave for a very special little one. Be careful, though, as the place could get very wet if you're not careful."

The gyrations of tremendous hips quaked in sounds and booms as dense vibrations rocked deep beneath the ground. Surrounding buildings squeaked in wobbling back and forth, leaning further in every pass, the road itself, groaning, as the mares were moaning.

Little whinnies that reflected off the glass.

"But then again." That voice sliced through the haze of arousal with the steel in its tone. The world lifted from Cadance as she could now breathe. Panting. Barrel no longer squished. The immensity going across her frame. "You were a very naughty mare to me. Joining with my sister like that. Maybe you don't deserve any special treatment after all."

The blimp of ivory booty had lifted from Cadance's own rump and slid back on the street, those backs of titanic hooves, uncaring for being dug into the street. They pushed backward and sloughed asphalt like snow as it built into a clump.

The ponies behind, and watching on, either ran to the sides, or fought to run away, caught with the rubble, safe, but widely uncomfortable. The back legs rolled across the street and rose to the middle windows of the flanking buildings.

Cadance had just about caught her breath in raising her head from the ground, in looking across her belly, seeing the muzzle laid against it. Celestia dwarfed her tummy, with her cheek pressed there, a sultry expression, a glinting eye looking up.

"If you're so afraid of him being taken away that you would store him in here," Celestia said in pressing a snout to the waistband, one snug to the fur and skin beneath, clumping Candace's pudge a little. "Maybe I should take your little husband, then, and see if you can even stop me."

The view was one hard to believe as Celestia licked at the taut little tummy there. Few swipes to make the tufts stand in patches—before lowering to snag her teeth into the waistband. From there she pulled, revealing the cot inside, freeing the feminine beach within.

Cadance had never smelled herself so much ever before.

But before Celestia's eyes could peer into the place, a stroke of magic swirled on Cadance's horn, the same field, appearing on the band on either side of Celestia's muzzle, and they pulled down. The fabric flexed and then stretched from the opposing forces.

Celestia's eye flicked up, assured, from underneath the mass of her mane. She spoke from the corner of her mouth with a touch of a slur. "Trust me, dear. You're not the first I've engaged this battle with." With a twist, tug, and a pull, Celestia snagged the underwear down a few more inches—over the starling swell of Cadance's vulva. "And you lack decades of experience."

Cadance whined purely in sound.

"Poor girl... so... confused." Celestia fluttered her eyes, the underwear still tugged in her teeth, the fight of magic—no longer a threat. "I thought, maybe, you were scared of tearing this pair. But you want me to get inside of there, don't you? Want me in as much as you want me out?"

Cadance spasmed at once in overlooking the other mare, to how much further Celestia's body flooded across the street, so much as to nearly blur for her. It would be her dream to be undressed by Celly. To have to her look, feel, tend to, and be proud of all that mare that Cadance had become.

Secret fantasies and a hidden love that, thankfully, could only be detected by one.

Or so she thought.

The natural response in not winning the tug-a-band war was, of course, to swing her legs together, a cross over Celestia's and, quickly, lock them together. The older mare didn't seem surprised in feeling the thickness of thighs sitting on the back of her head, meshing into the sides of her muzzle, and grinding her into the crotch of her niece.

Celestia's ear laid across the curvature of the panties, underneath a sea of undulating thighs, tons of violet, rippling and grinding, producing the softest, most delicate noises ever heard—along with a moan that echoed from inside the mare.

Cadance could barely see the face of the princess from between her thighs, catching it only in a slit, one in darkness, where a lone eye burned like a moon of magenta. Then came the voice from between her legs. "You know. I think I can hear the cries of your husband from here."

Another laugh. "When you're not grinding me into him, of course."

Cadance's lip quivered as, in the second she was about to release the mare, Celestia instead, rose, without the slightest of effort. Rising from between those legs and keeping in an upward arc. Then, looking back to that crotch, she dipped again.

She kissed her underwear. The bulge of those mounds. Delicate little touches of lips, travelling up, to the waistband and the bed of furs across that. Celestia's body snaked back over the smaller mare. Her belly resting on the curve of Cadance's bottom. That ceiling of underwear, collapsing, and smothering the one inside.

Cadance endured and enjoyed the kiss while looking out to the side to where, far away, there was Luna. Working on the building that Cadance had wiped with her butt, not liking the job, spraying the glass over again. One cry, one crawl, one anything.

And her other aunt would come, as would be the plan, and save her from the return of Celly.

"You could do it, if you wish," Celestia began, between breaths and kisses, now at the huffing chest. "That is if the two of you are strong enough to take me on. If you do, and I defeat you, I'm taking your underwear off—and putting it on."

Cadance held a breath.

"You can try to chase me, face me, but you won't ever get him back." Celestia kissed the underside of her jaw and laid her lips for a while on Cadance's chin. Eye closed, now opening, to glare into hers. "But don't think I don't understand you, love. Wanting to be Shining's everything. This, however, isn't the way to blow him away."

She worked up, across that chin, to Candace's bottom lips. Everything a whisper; a juicy secret.

"Forget my sister and forget this city." Celestia hovered above for a second, casting Cadance in her shadow. "Go out to the woods west from here. Toss that little lover of yours in the lake there."

She inched closer with an addictive smile. "Then have yourself some fun. Roll around in that forest and wash yourself off in a waterfall. Let him watch as you drape yourself over a mountain—enjoy yourself on it. Let him sunbathe on your tummy as you both suntan. That is the way to win him."

Celestia leaned in for a final kiss, a small one, a short one, a genuine one.

And then she wiggled off the mare, sliding back, until returning to her hooves. Cadance still laid on the ground, twisted, unsure of fighting or fleeing. Guilty filly in the princess's shadow. And then with a nod, a whine thereafter, she rose, barely, fighting to stand.

Celestia helped her, although Cadance was weak on the knees, all still so heated, still needing that release. Branching off from the princess, she strolled past her, barely, rubbing into Celestia's side and tearing into a building as she squeezed through.

"Although... you could always give him your personal waterfall."

Cadance shivered to a stop, another sound, another cry, the need to flee becoming more apparent. Weaker legs took her away as her victor never turned to see her off.

That was.

Until now.

"Oh? And Cadance?"

The mare stopped and turned around, seeing the scale of Celestia, who barely glanced back over her shoulder. There was no doubt about her. Total assurance. Which sparked fear into the legitimacy of her next reveal.

"Conspire against me again," Celestia threatened with a smile, "and I will steal your husband."

IX | And the Best Princess Goes to...

~ IX ~

And the Best Princess Goes to...

Celestia flogged herself against a building and held onto it for support, so drained in all regards, mentally and physically, that standing was trouble. Holding onto the corner of the building in regaining her breath, she looked at the center of the intersection, seeing waters, sloshing, into the road's drainage.

It looks as though somepony will have a better time walking down there today.

She continued to pant, now, for reasons beyond exertion.

Whatever... came of me there? I-I don't even want to think of the last time that I acted like such a teenager. Her breathing started to slow, and composure flooded throughout her once more. To think I had all of that inside me. So much wrong, and, yet, so much fun! And the ponies! How are they?

Her eyes swept over the tops of buildings, seeing the dots of her subjects, laid back in lawn chairs. Those on the street were sitting. Not mad or glad. Stunned it seemed. Even in lowering her muzzle to one, so gigantically before him, the pony could not seem to be broken from his daze.

It... doesn't appear any of them are raising a fuss. Is that really the way of the world? Cute mares doing cute things can please themselves however they wish? Maybe not all the time—but right now, certainly.

Celestia looked off into the distance, seeing her sister, in the middle of four towering sky rises, on her back legs, forelegs together, massaging a cloth up and down the sheet of glass. She giggled. Maybe a part of her did pull this stunt to clean up after her mess.

That's how we used to be, back when, in less responsible days. I would act as I pleased, and you would clean up the mess. You were the younger sister, yet, you were always sorting out my troubles. Even now, a touch of that hasn't gone away.

That conversation with Castaway flashed to mind. The closeness she once shared with her sister. Watching the sky, silently, tea for one, coffee for the other, able to enjoy it. But there was a time even before that. When the mares were teens and fillies. The games of tag, or hide and seek, of the foolish things they used to dream up on the spot.

When's the last time you and I had some fun together, little sister of mine?

Celestia bounced off from the building with a return to her hooves. Knocking around the world a little to the cracks of stone in the air. She strolled with a gait toward Luna, not without looking to her side, a fantastic cap, a sailor's, left on a building.

In putting it on, with a pull over her mane and covered eye, she walked to a taller building of glass and liked her reflection. Certainty a strange maid to be—but Celestia made it work. In looking out to those buildings, though, another idea arose.

She walked toward, with revenge, and a touch more, set on the mind.

Luna cursed underneath her breath in finding a hardened texture on the glass that, no matter how powerfully she concentrated her wiping on it, the material, the near crust, would not break. She was clueless to its texture beyond its odd smell. Biological. Yet unknown to her.

She pulled the rag away for a smidge of it to still be there. Those on the other side of the glass as though it were a screen to the cosmos. Luna's face was like a planet, the lifting of her hoof, a moon, as its edge was licked.

It came forward with a titanic sound and squeaked throughout the building on its contact. The wiping of glass caused many to fall, sealing hooves over their ears, as the dome, sealed over the spread of the window, cast the place in the darkness for a moment.

On the other side, and with the hoof removed, Luna brought back the rag, scratching at the spot again. Harder and harder but not so hard as to crack the sheet. Once she was done, all was pulled away to reveal the stain still there.

Luna huffed.

Until being tackled from the side.

It was a running blur of white that quaked the world and shook the buildings and was like a nuke fired like a bullet. White followed by the cosmos as the haze bolted into the sitting sister. Luna scarcely realized what happened until she was pinned onto her side, a much larger mare laid across her.

Celestia straddled her with ease.

"C-Celly! I mean, Celestia!" Luna rolled on the ground but could only shift between the ivory density of legs. "G-Get off me this instant! We still have a city to clean! What do you think you're doing?! Are you trying to create more of a mess to—"

Luna was interrupted by a lick across her cheek. It traced around the curve of her eyes and dropped at the start of her ear. Warm breath tickled into that place. As did a hushed whisper of glee. "C'mon, Lulu." Her heart shrank at her hearing her childish name said in a childlike voice. "Come play with me."

Luna huffed and rolled still, her muzzle laid on its side, eyes looking into some parking garage. Her snout, in unleashing its gales, blew through the various levels—blasting everything over and sweeping ponies, momentarily, into the air.

"What are we?! Fillies?" Luna rose the side of her barrel by an inch but, in so doing, the other had dropped her massive rear again. Rubbing back and forth like a little kid demanding play. "We're princesses, Tia. We cannot simply take a day off because the mood dictates it!"

"But Luuuuluuuu! The city's already a mess! The ponies don't seem to mind! And we always clean up afterward." Celestia's muzzle dipped behind that of her sister's, at the collar of her outfit, starting to tug at it. "Besiiiides. I know a few games that we can play that you will like."

"I'm not a filly anymore—and neither are you!"

"Because we don't let ourselves fool around every once in a while." Celestia's teeth found the zipper of the outfit and, although Luna should have struggled at this—she didn't. The past became the present in an instant. After firing off every reason for why something shouldn't happen, if persevered through, would see to the other mare, reluctantly, joining on the regrettable adventure. "Think of this new playground we get to have some fun in! Couldn't you see it?"

"What? Hide and seek, in which, you lay down on the roads—with me set to find you?" Luna barked off and, even though her tone was supposed to be insulting... its edges caught with the enthusiasm of fun. "Or running around these buildings, catching the other, in a game of tag all throughout the city?"

"Exactly yeah!"

"That's not the purpose of a city!"

The zipper went all the way down to over the crotch of the little sister, where the fabric spread to reveal the striped underwear beneath. Nothing fancy as it clung to the midnight crotch, squeezing the flanks, lazily, behind.

"Mhmm... how about a bet?"

Luna froze at that. All fights, struggles, and words—called off.

"Go on."

Celestia rolled her eyes at the logic of her sister as, what had worked in the past, once again, worked in the present. She brought her muzzle away from the joined thighs of Luna, starting to pull at the corner of her outfit. "It's always been your opinion, since before the moon, and after it, that you have a better rump than me."

Grumbles. "Quality over quantity, Tia." Then a groan. "We've been over this a thousand times."

"A thousand times not recently," Celestia continued in pulling the outfit over Luna's foreleg and then dipping to do the same with the other side. "We don't talk anymore. Much less tease or anything. Too formal to be sisters anymore."

"I'll always be your sister at heart, Tia," Luna responded. "You know this."

"But knowing isn't enough! I want to experienceit now, again.” Celestia pulled the other side of the outfit, although it would be up to Luna to take it off. She continued to sit on her, if only to be safe, but lessened the pressure. "When's the last time you let the utilitarian in you become petty?"

"That's... not how that line of logic works, sister." Luna played around the subject with her lips, becoming submissive, little rolls of the eyes in following through on the request. "And I only allow myself to become that petty around you. Though, that..."

She went silent.

Celestia smiled.

“So here's the deal.” Celestia rolled off her sister and sat to the side of her, as the latter then rose, sombrely, coming to dust herself off a little. "I think it's about time we put this ageless question to rest. My rump or yours. Which one is truly better?"

Luna scrunched her snout, a blush around it, as she dipped her head. "The ponies of this era are not qualified to possess the needed depth on this subject."

"The subject of butts?"

"The subjects of derrieres and posteriors, Tia!" Luna slapped a hoof into her face and wiggled into it. "For the goodness of the morning and the night, Tia, please watch your phrasing! You're a princess! Although, sometimes, I think it's just a teenager underneath the tiara."

"Prisoner beneath that tiara."

"Tia! Watch your tongue! Subjects can't ever hear you say that!" Luna was starting to lose it as her voice developed into a whine. "Much less butt or even rump! What if Cadance were to hear of you to speak of the one with an 'A'?"

"Ass?"

"Tia!"

"But she's already gone." Celestia looked over her shoulder to the expanse of the city behind, able to see its outskirts, the start of woods, a paved, crushed lane across it. "As is that plan you had against me. Easy to crush that, by the way."

"Ugh." Luna with a muzzle drowning in two hooves now. "If beggars can't be choosers, then there's little point in begging." Her eye lifted over the edge of her hoof. "What did you do? Where did you send her off to?"

"Teased her a little and sent her on her way." Celestia tilted her head and tapped her chin. "Probably rutting a mountain by now as little Shiny watches on."

"Aaaaaah!"

Sometimes Luna could fulfill her role of the little sister, that was, to drop back on the ground, rolling, a spasm of kicks to her legs. Celestia merely sat there, still tapping her chin, as the rest of the world watched on to the eccentric sisters being sisters.

"Naaaagh! Alright already! Just lock me up will you?" Luna stopped on her side, pouting, a mass of dough that melted onto the street. "Return me to the moon for jest or imprison me in your articles. I have been defeated. The day is, once more, yours.”

Celestia didn't like that. Not one bit. The shake of her head reflected that.

"I much prefer to think of the day, at least for now, as ours." Celestia held out a hoof to the little sister, who did not move, still sulking, with the hoof needing to be shaken before her snout. "And there's still a way for that plan of yours to work. Might I return us to the matter of our bet?"

Luna huffed. "Proceed."

"Throughout this little ploy of yours, I'm sure, you've taken a notice to all the ponies enjoying a fancy of you." Celestia grinned as Luna's ears flopped down. "Maybe you're not used to that kind of attention, but, after a while, it started to feel good, did it not?"

Luna frowned.

"C'moooon." Celesta's muzzle nuzzled into the coating of Luna's neck. "Tell your big sister the truth."

Luna rolled her eyes. "Fine. 'Tis nice... to be appreciated on the most lowly of matters."

"Don't give me thaaaat! You wanted to give your tush a shake at feeling all the eyes staring."

"Did not!"

"Did so!'

"Did not!'

"Did so!"

"Did not!"

"Did not!" Celestia said. "Did not! Did not! Did not!"

"Did so! Did so! Did so!" Luna barked back with a glare from the street. "Who are you to tell me on the matters of my rump? I wanted to knock over a building and let it harmlessly rain on all of them! Did so! Did so! Did OH NO!"

Another slap to her muzzle. "Gaaaah! How do you always get me with that?”

Celestia stuck out her tongue, looked aside, and posed innocently. "Bigger sisters always knooow beeest!"

Luna fumed. Cold body becoming warm. Furs brushed, now puffed, like a kitten purring. Slowly, she rose, clambering on her hooves, seating her own doughy behind on the opposite sidewalk. In the opposing buildings that were behind, those in the lower floors, looking on, enjoying the view of the sitting mares.

And how their rumps elevated them levels from the ground.

Then Luna spoke. "I still have the better rump."

Celestia barely looked back. "Mine's bigger."

“Mine's firmer.”

"I have more density."

"You're an overflowing marshmallow!"

"And you're only slightly less narrow than Cadance."

Luna glanced down and, although she fought it, a smile cracked on her lips. "Okay. We both know that one is not true."

Celestia broke into laughter, to which, she spread a wing around her muzzle to hide. The sisters couldn't help but laugh in their superiority to all in some issues. And then, once the laughter died down, the wing was pulled back.

"Seems as though I've gotten you into the fighting spirit," Celestia remarked with a nod. "And tell me. What point is there in having a good rump than to show it off? So let us place a bet to the ponies of this city."

Luna's muzzle was dipped with a hoof supporting her chin. "Let them decide? But you have always been the most popular of us both." She gestured out a foreleg. "You will win on that fact alone. I have close to no support on this."

"Is that so? Luna, dear, have you, perhaps, glanced behind you at all?"

Luna's snout wrinkled. But she did as she was told. Inside the buildings, stacked against the glass, the ponies looked up the crawl of the giantess's back in time to see her muzzle turned over her shoulder. How she looked and saw them all. The masses piling in, not away from the glass—but right against the danger.

All for no greater reason than to stare at her.

She blushed in a way she thought unknown in turning back, adjusting herself in place, more so for show.

"You... probably have more in your building."

"About the same."

"...really?"

"And we can switch if you wish it." Celestia lifted an eyebrow. "Both of us have an equal playing field here. So how about it? Do you agree to let the ponies, here and in this moment, to put this game of ours to rest?"

Luna thought about it for a second. "What are the terms?"

In the vast roundabout in the middle of the four buildings, where a few ponies stood, they looked out, one side to the other, into the expanse between the giants' legs. How the mares sat like fillies in a cramped sandbox, talking, and playing childish games.

How they both, if only a little, leaned back into the building, to a squeak of glass, a boom of sound, and sealing of darkness as their lower backs rubbed into the places. Forelegs crossed as they waited for the conditions to be set.

Celestia looked down and undid the rest of her outfit until it parted at the underside of her barrel, its end resting on her thighs, teasing to the underside of her belly. She then glared forward at her sister. "Should I win the vote of greatest rump, you agree to shrink back down and leave the rest of the day to me—joining me, of course, wherever you may please."

Luna tucked in her lips and glanced aside with a demure expression. "Not the worst terms." She looked back. "And what of my victory?"

"Well," Celestia began with a bit of a slur, a muzzle lowered, an eye raise, its brightness a luminescent pink. "That depends on how much you'd be willing to go back to our... adolescence days. The times, barred, from other mares and stallions."

Luna's eyes exploded open, and her blush rose with it as everything on her puffed at that moment. Her forelegs crossed between her thighs as the giantess could not hide her sudden panting. She wanted to speak, to deny it all, and yet, she did not.

"Instead, you would get to keep your size, and to have your big sister become your little sister." Celestia was blushing too, unashamed of it, as it only added to her attraction. It was a genuine tool and it was being used. "You could store me in any place, have me tend to anything, for the day. Be it you lying on your back as I explored your tummy... or travelled to the jungle lower than that."

Luna's face squeezed as her hooves dove into her special place. Rubbing there to keep it under control—like an itch that shouldn't have been scratched in public. Her eyes opened in the realization of her shame. At once, she stood, ready to assume battle. "How do we do this!"

Celestia smiled to one cheek as she rose, looking down as her outfit hung, starting to pull it off her; Luna copied her sister, with her teeth to pull out her forelegs. None of them cared for privacy. Undressing before thousands as the many were lost to the amazement.

Each mare tossed their article to the opposite side without care for it to land. Those in the parking garage were found in darkness, a weird, draped texture outside. A pleasant odour wafted throughout the place.

Across the street, the other outfit caught on a corner of a building and hung from there. Both mares had to wiggle their rumps to squeeze out from the rest of the clothing. Once they were done, they stood, facing the other, each wearing a pair of underwear.

Luna did not flinch in the strolling of her sister behind her. Celestia towered above, sure, although her mask of confidence could fool the world—but not her. Luna stood still, proud, and always facing forward. She spoke without looking to the oncoming force.

"And just how do you propose we settle this to them, sis?"

"Easy!" Celesta exclaimed from behind her and, because Luna did not turn, it all went to the other's place. Within seconds, the bigger sister flipped, turning around raising a leg over Luna's backside—starting to straddle her. "Like this!"

Luna endured the immense force atop her plot as hind legs slid over the sides of her barrel. Locked between the older sister's thighs, she was forced to stumble back as Celestia drove them backward.

Those inside the building had been watching the giantess clamber onto the other and, at once, drove them back. Everyone watching as the collection of booties were hurtling toward them. Growing and bringing shadows of peaches with them.

Rumps became larger before they struck the glass, a bend to the substance, as the lofty sheet endured the softest of immense pressures. The backside of the flanks had flattened into the windows, the suction casting darkness over the cheeks.

Every butt needed multiple levels of flooring to be adequately seen.

However, far away and to the right of the pressing booties loomed the faces of the sisters. Luna's head pushed down as Celestia's laid her muzzle across the former's scalp. Celestia looked back with a tongue suck out, which she let lay on the curve of Luna's horn.

While Luna, glaring up at her sister, couldn't help but blush with a mouth open in a smile.

And then Celestia spoke.

"Citizens! My sister claims that she has the prettiest plot in the family. Tell her that mine is far more spectacular!"

Luna gasped in faux rejection.

"Nay, loyal subjects!" The little sister giggled in this childish game she was all too happy to play. "It is the princess of the night who has the superior posterior! Tell my sister that she may raise the sun, but it does not shine from her backside!"

What these sisters were asking, of course, was an impossible choice; the stacks of bottoms pressed into the glass, a rub in circles, the sound, somehow pleasant. The muscles in Luna's rump had flexed in supporting her sister's weight to show how firm they were.

Much like before, the two were together, like posing for a photo, sticking out their backsides with the total knowledge of how much each was worth. Sometimes thrusting, together, back and forth, to send trembles throughout the floors.

Luna's rump was a lot more condensed. Her underwear clung to the sides of her flanks, squishing it, to the production of more curves. She was more full, thicker, details able to be pointed out.

Celestia, however, was just enormous. So large and impossibly full that not one particular thing could be pointed out about it—beyond the immensity of the item. It dominated one's vision. Sprawling beyond any possible frame. It was something that teased for how much further it went on.

And her golden panties curved with those cheeks, as powerful as the sun itself, to the same effect of staring at them for too long. Those who were blinded due to the brightness were so because of the image.

Soon the cheers started to break out. The masses of little shadows, jumping and shouting, the waving of forelegs. None of it could reach the sisters. Beyond the touch of a whisper that was wiped out by the winds. Celestia clicked her teeth and glanced down at her sister's face.

"Dear me, sis." Celestia laughed and nuzzled into her sister's mane. "It seems as though we've run into a problem."

Luna smirked. "Indeed. They all seem to be cheering."

"But whoever for?"

"Me."

"You mean me?"

"I would have said you instead of me."

"Hmm."

Celestia took a second to enjoy this. Nuzzled across the back of her sister and applying the faintest weight to her barrel. Being close, snug like this, acting like the teens they were never allowed to be—this was a glimpse, a one-time event, into a different way of life they could have enjoyed."

"Say, dear sister, I have another idea."

"Do proceed."

"It seems we have a cheering crowd with none finding dissatisfaction with none of us." Celestia giggled in plumping their rumps into the building, hearing a near crack, as both of their butts squished even more into the windows. "How about we call this a draw for now, and instead, come to entertain our subjects—together."

Luna didn't even need to think about it. "I would like to do that with you, Tia." She smiled. "Like to do it a lot." Then that smile transitioned into a smirk. "But don't you think I'll be letting that idea of you being my little sister go anytime soon!"

"Wouldn't plan on it." Celestia grinned as she took them away from the glass, the smudges from their rears on the glass. She rose herself a little from her sister's plot, still keeping it between her legs—which she then spread. "I'm too spontaneous for that."

Luna ducked a bit beneath her as she nuzzled into the underside of Celestia's jaw. "Which leaves me confused, sis, as to what we're to do here."

"Easy! What's the thing you and I have never done together before strangers?"

Luna thought about it, and then, thinking about it like her stranger, couldn't help but laugh with a roll of the eyes. "Shake our... asses before strangers?"

Celestia winked with a click of her teeth. "Shake our asses at strangers."

Luna ducked her muzzle to the left, and Celestia did her own to the right, looking back at the building, at the roads to the sides of it, all of it filled with streams of ponies. They smiled and laughed and then started to do their things.

Celestia would swing her hips left, and Luna would do hers right, the bottoms waving in reverse directions from each other, teasing to how the flanks beneath were shifting beneath the underwear. The two kept this on with a laugh, in strutting their stuff, to a cheering city.

The evening had passed quicker than either sister would have liked as, after their show, they decided to play like the fillies they were. Ponies were instructed to not be on the sidewalks and streets as, at any second, a sprinting, bolting mare, could tear through it in quicker than a second.

The rumbling and rattling throughout the ground as the booms of immensity neared.

There came times where, in returning to those skyscrapers, one would cling to the corner of it, shifting around it, as the other sister slowly approached. Each circling around it, keeping away from the other, waiting for one to make the first move.

And one did, the other ran, far away.

Hide and seek was a bit harder to play. One could lie flat in the street, but could easily see them over the tops of buildings if the other rose onto their hind leg. In needing to cool off, both returned to the port, with Celestia running, jumping, and doing a cannonball into the waters.

And Luna, slowly slipping herself inside, barking at her for the torrents of water that splashed onto the land. That bickering ceased at the first splash of water from her sister. Luna returned this by shoving her hooves into the water and doing the same. The two played while, between them, passing ships attempted to survive the rocky waters and sail around the towering mares.

With the closure of the day and the darkening of the sky, this left the two, in pulling back onto the port, each laid back onto a lane, to rest for a while. Sunbathing and relaxing. Clouds of grey formed above. Out in the sea, waters started to swirl.

Celestia groaned.

Luna glanced over from over the block of water that separated the two piers. "Something the matter?"

Celestia looked back. “He'll be here soon.”

"He?"

Celestia squinted an eye. “More so it.”

Luna frowned. "Are we scheduled for a monster today? Don't we usually leave that to Twilight?"

"We do." Celestia laid her head back, looking over her mane, seeing how the shipping containers draped over and locked in knots to it. "But I wanted to have the full experience of a full day. Its arrival is partly the reason for the growth in size."

"Ahh."

"But now I'm tired, pooped, and don't want to fight him anymore."

"Think you could ask him to leave or to reschedule?"

"Not that kind of monster."

"Think you could shake your posterior at it for it to leave?"

"Would probably try to eat it."

"Isn't that what all the mares and stallions are raving about these days?"

"Not that kind of eat, Lulu."

Luna thought on it for a while as, in the distance, thunder roared, lightning struck, and winds threatened a tornado's approach. The perfect beach day, ruined, as the two arrived in the sunbathing part. "Do you think I could take him? Been a while since I was allowed to play the hero."

"Most likely not and of no fault of your own—I could hardly take him alone." Celestia went to sit up with a struggle to do so. Feeling like someone who knew they had to go to work... but were still wishing the pros and cons of missing a day. "I have a battle outfit that's composed of sections of functional ships. Few planes in tune to the frequency of it."

"And could I not wear it?"

"The dress, sadly, would not fit."

"Ahhh."

Silence.

"But... maybe the fight would be easier... if I had a captain abroad?"

"Consider me yours, Tia."

X | The End of the World (Probably)

~ X ~

The End of the World (Probably)

The sweep of the city was set ablaze and littered in destruction as the colossal form of Celestia collapsed onto a series of buildings, which all crumbled beneath the side of her barrel, with her hoof, head, resting on half of a remaining structure.

"FIRE!"

From the depths of her tail, which laid across a complex, Luna appeared, now small, with a set of three cannons appearing from the ledge. They fired rounds at the rocky, crawling critters on the ground, twice the size of a pony, the molten spawn of the thing.

"Careful... he's strong."

"Aye!" Luna barked back with a turn muzzle but not of her eyes. "And maybe I would have a better shot if you were to move your big fat plot!" She looked out to the outskirts of the city where, in the water beyond the harbour, the great big thing, stalked, wading through the water, rocks crumbling off his form, pelting the water, before swimming forward as the spawn that they were. "Maybe I need a bigger cannon. Or at least more of them. Bigger cannons would be ideal."

Celestia rolled her eyes and leaned over to nab Luna by the scuff of her neck, tossing her with a twist of the head into her mane. The little pony flew before smacking into a dense, prismatic vine, holding to it as the giantess rose and retreated to the other docks.

But the swinging of the hair, stopped, as a voice ringing from the top of a building.

"Celestia! Celestia! Down here! On your right! Right! NOT THAT MUCH RIGHT!"

Celestia glanced over from her lofty height to the building below her hip. Seven friends were littered about it. Twilight stood up on the ledge and looked to the heavens to see her. "We received a message from the map! Something terrible is about to happen to Manehatten."

The giantess scrunched her snout and looked around and wondered if the end of the city was a two-parter.

Twilight continued. "We're here to take care of the threat before it comes to that! Hopefully, if we can reach and talk to it on time—maybe we can convert it without the conflict."

At the masses of white hooves that consumed the city, ponies were running around them, chased by the rocky scorpions, pleasing for their lives. Celestia frowned at Twilight's tunnel vision and proceeded to step, crush, and twist a hoof over the little pests.

"Could you point to wherever this creature might be?"

Celestia's lone eye glanced behind her, and Twilight did the same, seeing the monster, a mountain shaped into a nightmare, six legs curved from its pack, lava oozing from the breaks in the rocks. Lightening, charged and orange, struck behind the creature.

Around it seemed to float a green mist.

"Hmm." Twilight blinked and tapped her chin. "I don't think any amount of convincing will make him our friend."

Celestia tucked her lips inward, unsure of being proud or worried of Twilight's single notion of friendship being the end-all... but thankfully planned around it. Not having the time to do much, she lit her horn, its glow, collecting the seven friends.

All of whom she hovered before her monolithic muzzle as the mass of her mane consumed the rest of her vision. However, the glow of burning, towering buildings warmed the sides of their vision in being held by the giantess. "Greetings my little ponies. Sadly... I do not have the time to cordially brief you. Much less secure you in a professional place. Please forgive this."

The bubble split in two, and so too did the group of friends. Floating in their own force fields, they were guided back to the mare's hind legs, where the thighs were squeezed to fit into the tunnels of stockings. Each band was pulled back a little, each lowered to their tummies beneath it—with a pleasant SNAP afterward.

The mares laid back into the tush of the thighs and barely able to stop their eyes from rolling around. Much less when the rise started to move, the legs rising and dropping, the jostling of softness, on their backs and into the sock, a feeling too good to be true.

The shipping yard was ready for her with the assortment of shipping crates, ones of her size, stacked around the tarp set over the harbour's bulk. Dark clouds and contentious rain darkened the scene. The crashing of upset waves threatened to rise and overtake the land.

Several ships were docked in their assigned slots, cleared and repaired, long since been in use.

All of this would suit the princess perfectly as she levitated her sister and subjects to the ground far before her. To the sides were airstrips with rotary blades spinning into action. Around were the mass of guards, the navy brigade, ones standing in salute as they waited to board their new vessel.

It wasn't often a princess, with a lower muzzle, a glowing horn, crates breaking open at the tops, the cannons on ships, being removed input in a twirl around her, got to say the words: "Time to suit up."

Ponies from the ground had watched in amazement as block hulls stock to the princess raised hooves, each lifting one by one, as they slapped on like new shoes. On being fitted, the hooves touched down, and, in so doing, the hulls would thin out, their substance shooting across Tia's legs in a thin, flexible armour that protected the area.

Navy ponies flooded toward the hooves as each was firm on the ground in their transformation. There was a gated opening at the bottom middle of the masses. On the shoes' spires, a series of planks of metal slid out, with little steps shooting the game connecting the levels.

The combs of steel on the ground of the platforms spread and, from inside, a round array of cannons emerged. Ponies streamed in a line, all pegasi, each taking to their station as they ascended to the ankle of the leg.

The front shoes were cannons as, in the back, were harpoons that could break through to the center of the earth. Glints on their ends as determined ponies mounted them from behind. The backdrop and rise of a leg encompassing the place.

The board of a battleship lifted onto the flat piece that Celestia had previously fastened to her back. Pushing her mane out of the way, the object dropped, clipping into its locks, a sealing of air as it pinched into place. She wagged herself left and right to watch a minuscule sway.

It would have to be good enough.

Ropes blasted from holes of the things and dropped to the ground around. The navy ponies were outfitted with special shoes, enchanted, to lock to the metal on being pushed down. They also, on an opening to the sides, in being fed rope, would shoot them up the line.

Many flew up the massive mare, the might of a thigh behind, the barrel larger than a ship to the side as, far away, the muzzle of the mare looked forward, and they only caught a quarter of it. Soon they were on deck and running to their stations.

In the middle was a large hole and, hovering over it, were the massive cannons to a battleship. It had been dropped and turned—the pressure of air and the sizzling of magic. Steam erupted in clouds and was pelted by the rain. Ponies went inside the weapon, the five-story thing, able to raise, lower, and turn.

Luna floated above the deck in her own naval outfit. Watching, with crossed hooves, at the contained chaos of the ship. This would do nicely. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the eye of Celestia glancing back and, with a nod from the two, they returned to their duties.

Everyone aboard.

And a fight, waiting, to occur.

Celestia's stroll was slow as brilliant flashes of orange emitted over her body; the ground forces, the ponies on her legs, with the smaller, more precise spots as, above on her back, the ponies used the mortars to tank streets brimming with crawlers on the sides of buildings and devouring asphalt as to grow.

Rainbow seemed to have fun with a minigun to Applejack's barking to hold up the connected chain. The gun glowed red, and Rainbow cried in trying to smack it. Pinkie was over on pressured plates, a jump to the next rising one, not caring for the randomized orders she sent out missiles.

Fluttershy had been walking through the whole of the ships, whispering and kissing soldiers on the cheeks, told that this would strengthen morale. Twilight and Rarity were inside the massive weapon, using their magic, helping lift and infuse rounds, and streaking electricity across some of the waiting projectiles.

"Ready to fire!" Celestia heard the voice in her ear and, knowing already to do, went prone, and aimed her side to face the sea. The Columbiads, with all of their heft, turned until locking at their west point. "Firing up arterial rounds and... FIRING!"

The shot's blasts caused Celestia's hooves to break and dig into the ground as the magnitude of the continuous force threatened to tumble the mare. She leaned right, all those on the ship, clacking their boots on the steel. The magnetic locked helped them endure the turn until the reverberation through the mare was over.

"Chambers depleted of explosives shells." Luna's voice came with static in Celestia's ear. "Two minutes until refill. Continue your sweep of the street. Aircraft confirmed the harbour side of the city has been evacuated. Let loose and buy us time, Tia."

The monster had reached the city before the assault of rounds, the first breaking his surface, the rest revealing the creature's exoskeleton's burning plasma. Lava coursed and pumped like blood as the creature's heart could be seen through the texture. Rounds submerged into it, slowed to denotation.

The monster screeched in its roar as its legs, touching the bottom of the waters, pulled from the rock. Before their blast, the sea's ground came to flash over the wounds, saving him with their shield. Other cartridges tried to blast at him but only tore away some rock.

Celestia continued her stroll as those on her back continued firing down at the streets at her sides. Another roar of the creature came as his hands tore at his end. There, an influx of bats flooded the air like little spiders from inside the breaking of an egg.

Aim was taken to the sky in contentiously firepower as planes were forced to deal with the critters crashing into the hulls of their planes. Lava bodies were beneath their forms as well. Luna buzzed into the ear once more. "Tia... we're facing a time limit on this. That constriction power allows him to pull from the land. His spawning and recovery are limitless—and we're already down to half of our supply."

Celestia nodded incoming, with hooves standing on the splits on ports, starting out at the foe with a snarl. Behind him, a vast tornado loomed, a golden slice in the sky, a watery reflection, to the incessant burning of another world.

"I know."

She then lowered her neck down and around to peer at the four pillars of her legs. The ponies amassed on their heights looked back to her stealing the background with her head alone. Celestia spoke. "We're going to focus all efforts on the monstrosity. Everyone retreated to the three highest platforms. Forehooves crew and the rest: assist on deck."

Pinkie continued hopping from button to button, more and more misses firing from the curved sheets of cannons across the curve of Celestia's flanks, the projectiles, never fumbling, in taking down swarms of bats. Her aim, timing, and prediction were incredible for one with their eyes closed.

Celestia leapt into the crashing waters in a sprint toward the monster. He was reforming his chest before seeing the charging mare. Celestia cocked her shoulder back, foreleg more—before blasting it onto his chest. The contact of metal engaged a pressure mechanism as the edge of her hoof pushed onto it.

Air suctioned the chest into the hoof in a split-second, which clasped and sealed, before discharging the barrels of a shotgun as powerful shells tore into its chest. The creature stumbled back, not before the second hoof crashed into the side of its face—tearing half of its mask to the sun volcano burning inside.

Celestia turned and hopped with a spin backward to buy herself space. She stood in the crashing water, a muzzle lowered, a burning eye, and a raised hoof. One more shot per hoof, and that would be it.

The creature pulled back its arms and screamed to the sky in a roar that pinched Celesta's eyes and caused her ears to drop for protection. In coming out from the stun, the monster was bolting toward her, and, in shock, she was stunned.

The might of its fist connected with her muzzle, enough to send her in a twirl through the air, with her barrel crashing into the water. Even those locked with their boots on deck, on the flush of water, then disengaging. Floats came over the shoes to ensure none drowned.

Celestia laid in the waters as her muzzle burst out from it. Coughing and creating with a cut and a leaking of blood on her cheek—the same, being true, in her spit. She did that in turning to the side—seeing her sailor hat, with a tear in its middle, starting to sink into the water.

Her hooves stumbled and slid out from under her and tried to rise. The sea of ponies tried swimming back to the available parts of the ship. Pegasi were able to fly over and the nearby unicorn with a teleport. Earth ponies, in their strength, could swim.

But the number of all was significantly reduced.

Celestia finally kicked it and rose as waterfalls broke from over her body. With a shake of a head and a yell of her own, she spread her wings, the bone of their spread, covered in armour, with something special fastened to her wingtips.

She turned without breaking her glare to the charging brute and, with a grin, found the cord laid over her neck with her teeth. Waiting for him to get close, then, the mark struck, as its arms raised high as to crash low.

Celestia pulled the cord as steel misses like the shape of feathers all fired simultaneously. Each shooting to the sky before the airstrike rained on the creature. He became stunned in place, his rock armour, breaking away, faster than he could summon its replacement.

"Twenty seconds! Give him all you've got!"

Celestia bolted forward with a great spread of water crashing at the wading of her legs. She leapt into the air, a right hoof becoming a meteor, burning on the entry in crashing into the monster's face. It swung left in time to the other hoof coming that was in quick succession.

It twisted in a backward fall, but, in Celestia lowering her hooves into the water, drew such into the empty chambers, watched as her back legs fired forth the harpoons. The series went across the creature's form and yanked it back toward her.

Celestial stuffed her hooves into the monster's plasma and, with a smile, detonated her hooves. The tearing water raptured the bulk of its head. The thing fell back as Celestia turned around. Water flooded into its exposure, and it writhed in place.

She stood, waiting, until the thing rose behind her. It unleashed a final roar, its body, unable to both repair the plasma and the rock, a disintegration happening in place. It lurched forward to claim Celestia.

She had already lit her magic and floated her torn hat back on, not caring for the pouring waters as, in looking back at the monster, tipped her cap to him. Luna floated above them on the massive barrels of guns and, with a strike of the hoof forward.

"FIRE!"

The rounds littered down his body, tearing away all that there was and, as it fell into the water and, although it bubbled, nothing came of it. The lava turned to rock around the heart, protecting it. Celestia sighed as her magic consumed the chunk, coming to stride toward the storm, to the glowing tear in the sky.

Luna came in a swoop next to her ear. "An interesting way to end your day off."

Celestia, with lowered eyes, nodded. "Indeed. Think I'll miss it, though."

"But it did something for you, did it not, dearest sister of mine?" Although it was hard for a mare like her, when a genuine cause came, Luna tried to smile and found herself able to endure the struggle. "A thousand pent up years of so many things, wanting to be done, done so, on a single day. Those fantasies as well as the changes between you and me, you and Cadance, and you and the mass of your subjects."

A smile tugged at the corner of Celestia's lips. "And a special stallion."

Luna chuckled. "At least you don't have to worry about stealing him away."

"Indeed." Celestia couldn't help the next laugh. "Even told me Cadance seemed a little narrow on the behind."

Both sisters tore into laughter.

But what Luna said was true.

In taking one day off, and getting everything out of the system, Celestia and her world would be changed. Some changes would be forever, some, not for so long, but all of the above allowing a spark, a gust of fresh air, into the monotonous humdrum of daily life.

Celestia hovered the heart of the beast into the storm, as it was sucked back into the tear, where it would be safe from them. Then her magic went onto the slice itself, her eyes closing and a groan rising, the fighting to seal the portal.

A golden glow overtook her body and, inside this bubble, her mass started to shrink. Dwindling for every inch that the tear closed in the fabric of reality. Clasped unsealed from the mare and toppled to the sides of her body; ponies jumped ship into the calming waters below.

Soon Celestia barely stood above the water by the time the portal sealed. Clouds imploded to reveal the bright stars of the nightly sky. Celesta shrunk to her standard size, set adrift to float on the water as, all around her, were the staggering pieces of the ship.

Giant blocks of metal like glaciers on the water. So mighty and massive as where, seconds before, they had been no more than the size of shoes. Treading the water, Celestia looked down, seeing her hat, that white dome, sinking into the water.

She swam over instead to one of the hulls of the metal boots. There was Luna in the entrance, holding out her hoof as, behind, her student and friends were lined on the steps going up. Celestia was pulled on as they all ascended the steps to the first platform.

From there, they sat back, talking and looking at the sky, waiting on the raft, to when the ships would sail out to claim them. Celestia looked to the ponies that made her world and, in spreading her aching wings, came to collect them in a hug.

Which she was just big enough to take them all inside of.

Epilogue | It Ends as It Started and Starts as it Ended

~ Epilogue ~

It Ends as It Started and Starts as It Ended

Princess Celestia, and no longer just Celestia, woke up the next day, finding night instead of morning, and that, somewhat, she'd been given another day off for recovery. She rose with a groan as everything was sore.

Still.

This was no excuse not to get out of bed.

She managed to stroll out of the bedroom to find none in the hallways. Guards no doubt tired from yesterday, with Luna too lazy to pay a fake to get revenge for yesterday. Her sister must have taken over for today. Maybe the fun of yesterday had removed the need for such a thing.

Celestia rested against the wall into the hall's shaft toward the balcony. There was the hope to find her sister there, waiting, to either talk or enjoy the silence together. Part of her was saddened, in breaching the cool air to find none there.

Her hooves clopped onto marble as she took to the railing to look out to the night sky. Over the vistas of lands to the tree-covered-mountains that ascended in her vision. However the sky touched the ground sooner than it should have. More dense, full, a 3-D effect not used to.

And then there was a parting in that sky, and everything made sense.

"I knew there was something wrong when a section of the sky was more purple than the rest." Celestia rubbed her snout as booming laughter rocked the distant landscape. Out from the horizon came the giantess's muzzle, in a curve that hovered over the side of her barrel. "Definitely more concentration on your rump. I'll give you that."

Luna grinned with a wink. "Glad you think so, sis."

She then wiggled her hips on the mountain, creating tremors throughout the landscape, a portion of the forest collapsing from the force. Luna's wing pulled out from the cleft of her rump, as the warmness sealed. "Took care of all of your duties today as you slept in. Figured you deserved all the time off with all you do."

Celestia snickered in speaking to the moon itself. "And figured you deserved the same?"

"Big sisters are supposed to clean up after little sisters." Luna started to rise from the mountain, showing off her imposing size. "You acquired a few things on your day off that you normally couldn't have gotten otherwise. It's about time I got to be a bit more cheeky."

Celestia cocked her head. "Is that the reason for being bigger than Cadance?"

"Figures the girl needs to spend some time between my legs as her husband does the same between hers." Luna then nodded off. "Speaking of which. I better track her down while I still can. The night is yours. I took care of most of your troubles... but you still have a lot left."

Celestia laughed. "Here's to another thousand years."

Luna smirked before crossing over the horizon. "At least you won't be alone for the first while!" Luna dipped over the edge of the world, the might of her hips, and the swells of her flanks, shaking with purpose. Celestia watched them almost with jealousy. She also didn't watch them alone.

"Y'know... I thought it was the whole 'size thang' that made me love yers so much." Celestia's eyes burned brighter as pink did the same in the whiteness of her cheeks. She glanced over at the stallion, his forelegs crossed on the railing and, even at this size, only half of her. "But even in watchin' that massive thing walk away... yers still wipes the world with it."

In a lousy suit, Castaway glanced over, with gloss in his golden mane and an awkward smile to boot. Celestia couldn't help but sweep him into her arms at once, smothering him in all of her fluff—nuzzling the top of his head.

"I'm glad you came."

"Be a fool not to!" Castaway chuckled. "Luna pulled me out here while you were asleep. Also got a few other guests wantin' to see ya. Some kid callin' you a friendly monster?" Celestial giggled at this but did not stop her nuzzling. "Also got an early issue of yer magazine. Think you'll need the walls in your castle to do them illustrations justice though."

Celestia only laughed in finally letting the stallion go. He left her only for a second, going to a table to bring back a cap, a sailor's one, with a patch in its middle. He gestured for the tall mare to lower, and she did so, as the cap on her—and fitted it right.

"Luna went and got this back for you," Castaway said before digging himself under one of Celestia's foreleg, giving her support, which allowed her to stand. "Wanted to talk whit you like y'all used too—but figured it could wait till the world settled down' gain."

A little laugh from her. "Something to look toward."

"Gotta say, though, could have fit a whole lot more stallions here if ya wished it."

Celestia's response was to swing her hips into him, knocking him to the side, with the two coming into a laugh. They joined back together, walking through the hall, set to reach the court to reap the previous days' efforts.

Be it good or bad.

The change was welcomed all the same.

Author's Note

I would open this afterword with a common introduction of 'it's funny how' only to realize that what I have to say is not at all funny. Maybe a touch to the mind in the tiniest stroke of irony. 'It's interesting how' would be more accurate—but one tends to close their eyes, silently groan, doomed to a few minutes of listening to a knobhead speech.

Maybe that's because anyone who uses one of the typical introductions, even if they aren't a knobhead, will start to sound like one in their use. That is why one comes to find their own introduction. Something personalized, unique, touched in wit to whatever tone it leads toward.

But it is indeed funny how one's goals in a given craft start to change.

Oh fuck.

The knobhead is at it again.

When I had decided to take writing a touch more seriously—as serious as you can on a fanfiction website—I knew that becoming popular was half of the goal. The other half, of course, was writing well. But ideally. You'd like that wellness to, well, read.

So AiDs and I worked out the system. What you would need to write to get featured. You'd have a few hits and a few misses, and, in each, the successes and the failures informed your sense of what the audience wanted.

Soon you would dream up ideas with the audience subconsciously in mind. You'd know what sells and what doesn't. You could be given a premise and give out the scope of how well such a piece would do.

Once one develops a sense of what will sell, the ideas they use, the covers and the description for that story, are all informed by that sense. Sometimes it even affects the style in which you write. Although there is a middle ground. You can write what the public wants—but do it your way, if you like, to decent success.

Best of both worlds, if you will.

But before I bore the socks off you fucks and cause you to click off—I'll leap to the point on this. When you're a decent writer with a decent sense coming into the game, wanting to do well, and being seen by well enough people, you write the stories that will get you the views, comments and, as it was more important back in the day.

Followers.

You'd write out 'test' stories to see how well the market bit. Poor reception earned a story cancellation, but a decent crowd: the show must go on. You mostly judged a story by how well it did. This is all in the lens of knowing how to sell, mind you.

And that's how it was for a lot of us back when. The stuff you came up with as just so you could get featured and followed and whatever the fuck. Your measure of success and failure were based on those metrics. But eventually. This site started to die out. And those chasing after that carrot began to look up at the stick.

What did it mean to be writing subpar stories, at breakneck speeds, enjoyable to read but hardly are remembered? What good are views and followers in your daily life? If most of the people who follow you are those you'd want nothing to do with—then why the fixation on having a large assortment of them?

A lot of people became discouraged when the craze of having a high-follower account on this website ended. When you realized it was not good for anything except itself, and the sugar boost from the attention waned, a fair few stopped writing. The working out of sell-able fiction did nothing more than write hollow shit for shallow people.

And since they did not have any other reason to write, and could no longer believe in the previous reason for it, most quit writing. They tried to come back but, at the first troubles, realized what it was for and left again. Getting famous on this site no longer amounted to anything.

What is the worth of being popular at a graveyard?

I was such a person when it came to 2018 where, every two days, I wrote a story that would get featured. I had one that got 18K views as well as owning five places in the feature box. I even changed the titles so those who looked at the box were able to read, from top to down, "YOU CAN DO IT !"

The influx and the rush were great but, after that period, in writing less, I found that anything I had, the messages, comments, and people, were gone the second I stopped writing. Then a tough time struck. I had the support when I didn't need it and none of the support when I needed it most.

The moral shone clear.

"You're only as important as you are prolific and previous works don't stand for much."

That put a hamper on things, and I decided to quit for a long while. I quit writing a lot and for various reasons. Yet it pulls me back. It's a compulsion. No higher, moral bullshit, I assure you. It's not that it gives me a kick all the time, or it's some sacred pulling.

Rather I am compelled to write. It's a sense that feels right. Even when I don't want to do it. When the works are trash and the result is obscurity—I still come back. Even after leaving to play GTFO for months, I couldn't sustain the distance, the doing of nothing and, out of all the things I could have done: it was writing.

I'm sure I would have decent fun learning to take a bike apart or learning a guitar and perhaps, one day, those very things will be good for me. It's writing, though, that takes me. Every time. Even if it amounts to nothing greater than itself. It compels me. There's the sense that I am doing right if I am doing it.

I am sure this is the only reason why I return to writing. I can cite various reasons that bring me back, but they feel like a cover more. Just something to better justify the compulsion. I hope to fuck this doesn't sound like me standing on a soapbox. It's not my goal to do that.

It's my goal, in this writing, to figure writing out to me.

I see it in my friends. Those who have written. Ones wanting to write again—but can't. I give them my reasons, and they like those reasons, but the reasons aren't enough to keep them in the game... or get them through the troublesome period of being terrible for a while.

And I think I have either been blessed or cursed or a mixture of both with that compulsion. I will always be called back to writing. If I did not have that, then I might not have returned. Even when I seek books or motivation in quotes to help me write—it's that compulsion, that desire, that sends me to them in the first place.

Big Celly's Day Off is a story, supposed to be no longer than 6K, that became 60K instead. It did not break a thousand views and is nearly split in its likes to dislikes. It has a few comments that amount to a couple of words. There is close to no reason why such a story should have been finished if it did not matter except to a silent few.

The story was written for NC MARES in wanting to nail his desire for macro.

I would like to write about them now.

And offer my apologies for making them read the damn thing.

Sometimes you forget how much the wisdom you live by actually came from someone else. Or how another's opinions or words subconsciously affected your overall sense. Long after I had failed to write Roll for Her due to being unable to write well for an ideal, I kept in touch with NC, asking about, well, anything I could.

One comes to writing fanfiction with no real idol or mentor or whatnot to take stuff with. This place tends to attract the worst of us and, in of itself, is seen in a negative light. No matter how great the story you may write is—it is still fanfiction.

Even if that terrific story would still be a best seller if you took all the horses out.

NC was the first artist I talked to that was 'legit'. I don't mean that in a mean way to anybody else that may draw or whatnot. Just that the quality in their work reflected that 'it' factor. We can rant out about advice and whatnot to each other but, when that advice leads you to still being in the same stage, the same spot... you can't help but raise an eyebrow.

I'd go around asking people for advice and help and what it means to be a writer and an artist or whatever... but you found that they were the same person to the same quality for the longest while. That they still had not 'ascended' to being legitimate.

I understand how hogwash all this sounds as I was more adolescent at the time and still am now. It's like being in a well with a bunch of other rats in the dark. They're all squeaking about what is right and what to do. But you can't help but look up at the one who got out and is in the light. Silent.

But maybe willing to open up if you asked.

I asked a lot of people a lot of questions but never got back the answers I needed. When I finally got into contact with NC, unfortunately for him, I asked as many questions as an eight-year-old does during a movie.

I figured someone with a following and the ability to produce his kind of art would thus be enabled to be arrogant about it. Arrogance has to be earned. Once you have it, though, it's free range to be as you please. I don't know why this was so much my thought at the time.

Maybe I watched too much House.

But NC told me several things. For one, he told me the greatest thing of all, that he struggles and sometimes doesn't like his art. That feeling doesn't go away. It diminishes for a while but can just as strongly come back.

He told me he didn't care too much for being popular and did the work for the sake of itself—even to a compulsion if you will. Maybe all of this stuff seems bare and basic in hindsight but, to me, it meant a lot.

He also said a whole lot more about what being an artist was to him. I struggle to quote anything here, and I don't wish to share anything preferred to be private. But what I think I got to talking and trying to understand NC was the kind of path that I wanted to walk down as well.

Or someone to be a touch like.

Of course that didn't work out as I am too wordy and too much of a prick to not run my mouth about something. But talking to NC informed me how I thought and felt about art and being an artist as well as to those also doing it.

His words enabled me to be myself as a writer or, at the very least, be more secure in that fact, I could have an issue and take it to him and, with a concise response, he would nail the problem on the head. It was as though he dealt with it before, knew how to phrase it exactly, and then provided the needed remedy—be it advice or encouragement or both.

In going through those things, I started to get a base sense of being a writer and that I was one. Not someone that wrote and was just faking their way into the scene—but a writer like all the rest. Maybe I had more of an imposter syndrome, which was lessened by the unknown help of a friend.

I tried so hard before to prove myself as something while, at the same time, acting like it wasn't really that thing. I'd never felt secure. Hence the need to try so hard as well as fish for validation. I don't need much of that nowadays. But back in the day I would try so hard for it. Always needing it.

Sometimes we forget personal periods too easily.

But I don't have that anymore. Just the usual dose you'd expect from average folk. Writing a story or a blog is a thing I just do. Nothing around or attached to it but the thing itself. It all sounds so bloody simple on paper.

Such a thing used to be so much harder.

NC was the person who, with his skill in his art, caused me to regard him as someone great. In finally speaking with him, his wisdom accrued in becoming great that helped me a lot through my personal strife. A lot of it is gone from my surface, now, but a part of what I am now is thanks to him.

I don't ask him much for advice or help nowadays as the problems that arise, I tend to work through blogs or in reading whatever I can. I find my own answers and use them to keep going on. I'd thought before that, in acquiring greatness, you would use that to lord it over others or some shit like that.

But I found that, in the purist and process of acquiring that greatness, you then become fulfilled by it instead—and don't need anything it could possibly generate around it. I can't claim to be a good writer or, hell, a decent one. But I can claim to be a writer and, writing itself, allows me to feel fulfillment.

NC is the person who allowed me to become the writer that I am now and my sense of kindness regarding art in general. I cannot be as cool as him, but, at the very least, I can be as wordy as I like, like myself.

Because of him, instead of writing a whatever story for 6K people, I could write 60K for only six people. That I liked the work, enjoyed it, despite the troubles and hiccups. I was writing it for myself, and I appreciated what I wrote.

Despite its flaws and spelling mistakes.

I'm less popular at the reward of being secure.

Which I like a lot more than being popular at the cost of being insecure.

I suppose I should write a bit about the story itself, and it all started in wanting to do nice for the broski. I feel bad in forcing someone to read something they don't like—but will do so because it's a gift. My goal was to keep it short in case of that.

And that shit did not work out.

I decided to write a relaxed giantess story about Celly fucking around on her day off in the style of Rarity EQM. I wrote the first few chapters and even had NC draw the Celestia with her booty set on a mountainous horizon. However, the story's flow would come and go, and it was written, on and off, for several months.

I had decided to do something different with this story. In enjoying all of NC's art (maybe I'm praising the fellow a touch too much), I wanted to have all his art pieces, somehow, connected. So I took to a Google Doc and placed all his art in it.

Then I started to readjust the order of the art to the building of a story within. Once I got the ideal order, I began to write, from picture to picture, connecting strands from one to another. Every day I would get up, have my snack and pace about. Thinking of what would happen next moments before I sat down to write it.

And looking at the art for a spark.

I have to admit that a part of me wrote for the sake of seeing what NC would have to say about it. Drumming up a beat with a snap of the fingers going he'd probably enjoy that bit before I dashed off to write it. Soon, though, it was just me enjoying those bits—and writing for that sake.

Reaching the story's ending was a touch emotional for me as all that time and words were behind me. Even if none were to read the thing, through the writing, I had gone on that journey. I had failed to write Roll for Her at first and, in writing a lot, and fighting to get better, I came back to write Roll for Her in order for it to be good for NC.

You see the greatness in his art and, from that, you know that the stories to them have to be as good. But when you simply do not have the skill to produce the kinds of words that feel as they have the same quality as the art—you start having insecurity after nightmare. So I fucked off for a while in the attempt to get better before coming back.

It's ironic, though, that in writing that story, and in coming to this one, how they were mostly attempts to impress the person. But somewhere on that journey, though, I just came to like the work myself. Soon it didn't matter if NC or whoever liked it or not. Thought it was good or Grade A writing.

Rather I enjoyed it, liked it, and that was enough for me.

And there's where I would like to end this blog in how, at the start, I wanted to write a lot of crap to get famous, to now, where I write something for the sake of writing it. It all sounds horribly simple—and maybe it's because it is. But I can't help but feel something deeper in keeping with a story and finishing what I started.

Even if it's only between me and it, that I did the best that I could, sucking my brain dry for ideas for the sake of keeping the writing fun. That is the light or in a shadow, that I'll keep doing the do, not needing the light to be on to keep writing.

That's what it boils down to. Before one would write for the sake of the attention and support it will get. Now I write because writing itself will give me all of the above. Sorry for the snooze of a blog. Hopefully there was a snippet of something useful for your troubles.

Catch you next story and next blog.

~ Yr. Pal, B~

(Here's the photo outline for the story for the curious)

Prologue | Mooned in the Morning

Princess Celestia's BIG Day Off
B_25 for NC

Princess Luna opened her eyes already with the sensation everything was about to go terribly wrong. It was a gut feeling. Change in the air and how things appeared in her bedroom. Lazy mane bunched on the pillow as the magical fan went 'off' during sleep to save on magical electricity.

It'd been night, and for some reason, she'd been asleep.

“You look tired Lulu. Try a nap. I can watch until dawn for you.”

The offer had been suspicious but the expression appeared genuine. Luna had walked backward with a nod, eyes never leaving the sister, weary for a trick at the first turn. She had yet to be burned for that call. But a feeling of terribleness was on the horizon.

The mare lazily rose onto her front, bottom lowered and chest raised, stretching like a feline, feeling busts of knots and such developed throughout the night. Her head whipped to the side to look through the glass of her balcony doors. The mountainous horizon loomed out beyond the fields, a dimness to its mountains, the shape too odd in particular, so large as to appear through the darkness, dusk instead of dawn—something was wrong.

“Maid! Servant! Guards!” The doors blasted apart as the foreleg shot through it, enough to rattle the troops at its side, the maid spraying a vase, the servant walking past. Those here looked to the princess in the gown instead of a crown. “I need the assistance of you all!”

The five scampered in circles with some crashing shoulders in their appearing and lining together on the rug of the hallway. Red like scarlet and vast to serve as a decent runway. Everyone saluted in place—attempting to not make eye contact with the teddy bear clung to the princess's chest. “Princess!”

“You!”

“Me?”

“Other you!”

“Me m'am?”

Luna growled as energy surged upward in her chest. “Nngh! Maid!”

“Y-Yes!?”

“Please see to fixing the affair of my room at once!”

“Yes!”

The maid blasted into the room.

“Servant!”

“Ready captain!”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry sir!”

“Another jest?”

“Not at all!”

Luna's head lowered before the height of the guards and her eyes shone upward like stars. Burning blue and ready to shoot into the first to act like a fool. “The kitchen. Now. Earl Grey done sweetly enough to make me lose some teeth. Understood?”

“At once your highness!”

The servant fired like a bullet down the hall, either to make his break of the place, or to return with the tea deciding what remained of his fate. Princess Luna sighed and shook her head. Inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly; collected and calm once more.

“As for you guards.” Luna raised her head and returned to looking down at the duo. “Have any of you bore contact with my sister in these last few hours?”

Both looked at each other with eyes communicating in the form of a deal. Luna's pair narrowed on the gaurds. The golden boy spoke first. “C-Case of miscommunication ma'am. She was to appear at night court but apparently had a tasting at the kitchen first. We contacted the chefs. Princess Celestia reconvened for a later time to meet with nocturnal ambassadors. Those were left ignored with a letter stating—“

“With a letter stating she was somewhere else and not exactly there?”

“Precisely that.”

“And how long has she been gone?”

“Not even an hour after you retired.”

Luna's hoof flew into her face with the same force her plot struck the ground. It kept planted to her features even in rolling her head back. Groans were muffled into the sole. Defeat of a tired girl charged with some bullshit and craving to go back to bed instead.

“Celly... whuh awre ywe uwp to noaw?”

“Uh ma'am?” Both guards leaned into view from either side of her hoof, a pair of fools, somehow prompted, highly into the bracket. They attempted to speak even when Luna was like this. “What do you suppose we should do now?”

“Whuha I wuant ywoa to do now,” Luna's hoof slid from her muzzle and caught itself with a clop on the ground, “is explain to me why I was not woken with this matter as it happened.”

Both guards turned to each other to engage another deal.

“The one on the right this time!”

The brown stallion gulped a lung and turned around. “Um. T-That's the thing. Princess Celestia told us you were not to be woken until you had your morning coffee.” His muzzle dipped as he entered deeper thought. “She ensured to explain it could not be morning until the morning sun came up. Her highness told us a bit more after that. You being a monster before mornin' or before you had your coffee. Seemed like she was speaking for our sake.”

Luna's face imploded into itself as anger erupted lava to pump throughout her veins. “How did you two dolts ever become guards?!”

The one on the left stepped in and spoke up for his pal on the right. “See. Now that's the thing.” He shrugged and smiled with a sort of mirth discovered in simplicity exclusively. “We ain't even guards. Just a couple of farmers needing some extra seeds for crops this season. Princess Celestia said we looked honest like. Promoted us to official guards of doors at once. First day on the job by the way.”

He held out his foreleg with an encouraging titter. “Black Diamond by the way; a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Luna gave up on life and hope as she looked to the ground and nodded her head. With bunched lips, she took his hoof, shaking it, accepting defeat. “Name's Luna. I'm a princess. But you probably haven't heard of me.”

Black Diamond looked over his shoulder and at his pal. “Doesn't she sound familiar to you?”

The other shook his head.

What good deed am I being punished for to have you as my sister?

“Ain't it time for the sun to come up though?” The stallion followed that in turning back around. “I mean it can't be morning because the sun isn't up. But it feels like it should. Or maybe I'm going crazy?”

“Rest assured it's only me being pushed to insanity today.” Luna hugged the teddy bear tighter to the fluff of her chest in strolling forward, nudging her snout for the others to follow along, at her sides rather than behind, the cause to get angry non-existent. “But let us see about the sky first. The rest of this drama can be handled later.”

“There's a play happen' today?”

Luna bunched her lips and looked down and wanted to giggle to spite it all. Before they unfurled the spaciousness of the hall, walls far apart, stained windows left, staggering portraits right, everything leading to the towering doors afar.

They reached it, the guards gunning forward to slam into it, pushing, the towering frame pulling away. Nod to them before strolling onto the balcony, it was round with a ground of marble, tables and chairs like the outside of a restaurant. The princess strolled to the railing with her nightcap tugged over an eye.

She gazed into the distance to see what was different. Darkened lands below the city as the view travelled to the planes of land sweeping to Ponyville and the spread of the rest of the landscape. Once more, though, it was the mountains. They'd caught her. Their shape beckoning. Something about them feeling sexual.

What... what is this feeling?

Dusk meshed hills into the same shape and even the front of mountains blurred together. Yet there was something different about this set. Large and alabaster and voluminous in their spherical appearance. Darkened by the night and feeling like objects in a dream. Squinting eyes and narrowing gaze did nothing to tame the scene. Where did they end? Darker as they went up, unable to see their tops or ends, rather their form meshing into the blackness of the sky.

And then it came. High above the round pair. The glowing of gold in a swirl like a tower. Something moved in the mountains. Behind or around or to the side. Great as to render its movements a monumental shaking across the landscape.

Luna narrowed her vision, the magic of her horn, zapping onto her eyes, glowing them into seeing the world below like binoculars. Her gaze swept over fields to see the shivering of hills. Trees shaking before breaking across the scope as their crashes awakened the nearby wildlife.

Her view stole to Sweet Apple Acres, the thumping in the distant, slow and constant, powerful in its trembles, jostling the orchard. The woods shattered into each other as the mass of trees cracked and crashed to incessant pounding.

Just... what in Tartarus is going on?

Luna returned her view to the mountain for golden beams to illuminate the scene. She whined. Turning away her head and blinking to readjust. She returned to looking at the mountains now only to see something different.

Immense. Utterly gigantic. Swells that gobbled the land. Round and pushing out had been their fronts of creamy white. Smooth in both the surface and their curve going up, the twins set between each other, stacked together, a sole line dividing them.

Luna lifted her head from her chest as stoic horror dressed her next expression. She blinked as another tremor quaked the world. Beyond the horizon in the orange painted sky, rose the neck of the serpent, one able to warp around the planet, long and thick, soft and proportional to her.

The sun-kissed the sky on its gradual rise, though the land was taken to darkness again, in less than a second flat, as the head of the massive mare passed over the object. It'd turned to look at them, lazy mane to a cocky expression, a look of utter satisfaction.

“T-Tia?” Luna wobbled back from the railing until tripping—caught, in a series of forelegs, by the twins holding her. She continued to look out to the majesty of her sister who used the morning sun as a halo. The immensity of her muzzle loomed in darkness in which its details couldn't be seen through. “What are you... b-but that means...”

Luna looked back to the mountains. It seemed strange to see the flanks stacked on mountains, those no more hills in comparison, fissures borne throughout the rock, unable to withstand the monumental weight of greatness. Greater cracks broke underneath the buns as the snowy peaks couldn't match her coat.

From their sides emerged a wing that claimed the sky, those arching wingtips set to curve around the rump, and in so doing, generated powerful winds, currents blasting forward, crashing through the surrounding density of black clouds, a single whip, a slice through, to reduce the cloudy sky into a curving trail of a wisp.

Those tips spread across the thickness of the swells in needing to go miles out to follow its curves. In tracing its inward slope, they slid into the dusky, towering, warm crevice—exposing and revealing more of its diamond depths. Wingtips, much like hills to the round and vertical landscape, sunk into its flesh, deeply so, disappearing into its plushness, their following impressions, impressive, in a downward arch across the side of the cheek. They pulled and slowly parted the monstrosity. Incalculable force to peel away a largeness beyond the capture of their vision. More teased in the snug valley between the white velvet of softness.

Luna looked back in time to see the muzzle of her sister now sticking out her tongue, plump and pink and round it was, a bulldozer able to dangle and destroy a castle. It remained cute despite those properties as Celestia pulled down an eye with a hoof.

The giantess had curved away from her bottom, knowing the morning nation watched her, revealing enough to put on a show. Her wing flapped away to the forward crash of violent winds. Scattered trees pulled up and huts yanked from the ground, collecting in the air and shooting forward, everything crashing across the land.

“D-Duck!”

The trio fell backward as a large tree blew like a bullet over them, over the doors to a circle window, stained glass to the thick branch travelling through the hallway. It stopped, eventually, swallowing the hall in its size alone.

Those on the ground quickly jumped up, forced to stumble around, then, as jostles quaked through the land. The cheek pulled free crashed back into its sister, the two wobbling away in hefty rises, their crashing into the mountains pounding dense rocks into dust. Vastness of protruding white, falling through, slamming into the ground, the downward crashing of her cheeks at the first impact carving a crater, one deepened in every smack of the softest of white, its bubbly shape drove into the ground.

Celestia laid forward for a second more as the wobbles faded into ripples across the round surface. Slowly her body lifted into the sky, returning the light, at least the beams allowed to shine between the pillars of her legs. Arching her bottom low and chest high, further than the smaller princess, the mare strode off, rocking the world in her steps, off to the waters that awaited her at the edge of the land.

Luna stood on the center of the balcony with a face amazed and crazed into the depths of sadness. Eyes wide and starting to burn at being denied to blink for the last minute. With a swallow she turned around, spotting the tree composing the hall, a great oak, carried through winds, launched like nothing by her sister.

She turned back and focused on the railing again. Every step forward was a jostle for, at the same time, another did the same in the distance. Every time she took a step, already the ground rocked, handling the one from her sister, the shock of each, never losing their greatness, to the point of throwing her to the floor.

"Is she...” the guard spoke up from behind “...headin' to the water?”

“It would appear that is the intent of her direction.”

“What is she gonna do in the water?”

Luna looked back at them, holding the railing for support, doing her best to smile. “I hope none of you like Manehatten.” She closed her eyes and sighed and at once was on a plan to make everything right. “Can both of you fetch me a scroll and a quill? Perhaps Cadance can help me knock some sense into my sister.”

“Miss? Were you mooned by your own sister?”

“That doesn't sound like hoofsteps—“

“Can't you hear them afar?”

“—fetching a quill or a scroll.”

“Yes!”

They blasted off.

“How can this day get worse?”

Someone approached her side.

“Here is your coffee miss!”

V | A Photoshoot Massive Special

~ V ~

A Photoshoot Massive Special

The roads from the country sprawled and curved toward the looming city, narrowing the closer they became, carts of all types, ones pulled and ones driven, back to back, as traffic would always exist regardless of the engine. Drivers and pullers of coaches, however, kept to their unique sense of superiority over the other.

One such pony sat inside his cart as the 't' had yet to be removed from that word, behind the wheel and leaning back, staring at the ceiling of the interior. Sunlight poured, diffused, from the sunroof. He closed his eyes and sighed, drinking in the light, not getting enough inside the office.

Until a shadow passed over.

The pony tittered awake in a jolt that came in always needing to be attentive on the road. Yelling voices and blaring horns and the unintentionally and minuscule doing of wrong to the intense feeling of terribleness. He looked ahead to see the space ahead had been opened—towering buildings, teased, in clusters in the distance.

But he didn't have a chance to pull up.

Rather there was a titanic sound that was soft and followed by annihilating winds. Enough to slice the side mirrors of the cart as they ripped forward. Ahead was a dome of a shadow with, above, the tease of the underside of white. Before squinting could be done, the thing crashed down, stealing the spot—cutting him off.

The pony blinked. The urge to lean out his window and yell at the thing came to pass. Still leaning back in his seat, he looked up, the interior of his cart, still in dark, the sunlight now gone. In the sky hovered the dimness of the inside of a skirt. Skyscraper like legs, coming into view at their ankles as, in shooting up, their milkiness brought light into the night of the article.

Cushy thighs flanked each other as they were squeezed in the tight rims of the underwear. Patterned panties with a curve more generous than the earth with the bulge of a part left enshrouded in the darkness. It curved back to the canyon behind—that out of view.

The stallion jaw was lowering though sensations relocated to other areas. Blinking did nothing to dispel the imagery he did not want to fade away. However, in looking forward to his dashboard, two slender legs were skyward and the scene capped at their ankles. Between them, though, lowered the massiveness of a face.

Princess Celestia herself.

"Oh dear me! I didn't mean to cut you off." Her head was upside down, and her muzzle's underside could have been made a bridge leading into the city. Tons of hair—literal and not metaphorical—swept down on the scene. Carts and the like drowning in the pulls and piles of silky strands. "You don't mind, do you? I'll even forgive you for looking up longer than you should have."

The stallion did what was wise, which was to nod his head, so suddenly so afraid, and yet, at the same time, not minding being crushed underneath one of those hooves. The princess flashed him a smile before her muzzle returned to the sky. Once another space opened far further in the highway, one of her legs arched toward it, its miles per hour beating every cart here, a matter none were upset about.

And that was how Princess Celestia beat the afternoon rush into the city of Manehatten.

Maybe I should have opted-in for the eye patch? But then I might have looked similar to a pirate. Those little ponies are already so difficult to see. I like the look of 'captain cutie' much more anyway.

Celestia strode through the city as its towering buildings rose to her shoulders at the sides, the roads below, narrow and forcing her hooves together, as passive thoughts coursed through her. Ponies and stands and posts crawled across the sidewalks with more than a few looking up at her.

She smiled with the inability to wave. Without a doubt a number of those just barely more than colourful dots were charmed by her. But there was the matter of everything else. Down on the sidewalk level, every time the side of the hoof set on the road, it rocked the world around it, a heavy thud to a clap throughout the ground—hot dog carts turning over and ponies being bounced.

Celestia clenched an eye at the unintentional effect. Posts cracking from the concrete and falling onto the ground. She winced, sending down a wing, the tip of bone, struggling to capture the little thing. It kept sliding on the floor from the heavy push, brought into her grip to slip and roll out.

Even on capturing it with an eye closed and a tongue stuck out, she lifted the pole, sticking it back in its hole—a little deeper than before. The light press resulted in cracks forming around the thing. A passing pony stepped on one of these ones and, as a result, was at a far greater risk to break her mother's back.

O-Oh dear.

Celestia returned her muzzle to above the buildings to the aerial view of the city. She felt out of place. Even the cuteness of her costume felt a tad much in the face of all the ponies going about their day. Those in the windows of towering offices, looking out and to her, confused and taken away from work.

She sighed.

I thought this would have been more fun.

"Celestia! Yes yes! Over here! To the squeaking to your left!" Celestia froze at the buzzing voice floating into her ear. Looking to the sides and swaying her hips the same, in the second next, there came the collide and then the crash. "No no! Your rump! Ensure it does not—"

Inside the office building on one of its higher floors, where cubicles were stacked together with ponies stuffed inside of them, the series of rumbles and thumps had knocked all the deadening trance of work. Few inside and answering calls were jolted in their seats, the line cutting, the marches of something enormous calling to them.

One pony kicked against the ground and rolled out from the cube on his chair, seeing across the runway to the afar windows, each large and vast like a theatre's screen, the collection of them revealing the mass of the bouncy flanks inches beyond.

How they swung close with a bounce that promised heft to the imminent crash of booty. The wrecking balls of fatty tush exploded into the glass and crumbed the starting of the floor. Shards helplessly poured on the frosted swells as their density was too thick to be pierced.

"Oh dear!"

The mare leaned back in her seat and looked at the view amused. Blinks came slowly in seeing the underside of a cheek stuffed between the floor and the ceiling. It was squeezed in, clumped, like a thick base of a hill. Its weight on the floor alone sent cracks shooting out.

Then the silly princess had the notion of moving.

"Wait! Miss! Do not—"

The flank swept right as the princess attempted to look left, unintentionally tearing her backside across the facade, ripping the glass, the starting of the floor, as the voluminous rump sliced it like icing on a cake. In the now booming cavity, the giant's muzzle turned, looking in, appearing ashamed.

“Um! Terrible sorry about that.”

Her eyes clocked over to her backside to see her skirt pulled back over it, the racing of her heart loud enough to be heard as frantic hooves lowered the article. Blushes covered hills of white as her laughter was too nervous to be considered adorable.

"T-There is something I can do about this! Just a second now."

Those inside the building stared out to the gaping hole, unsure if the feminine titan was removing her cap. Smiling at it and looking to the floor, she brought the hat over, resting it on the corner of the building. Darkness washed over the floor as the interior of the cap rested before them.

As well as the scent of mane and strawberries.

Seconds passed before there was crumbling. The hat was removed and light and air tore into the floor again. Celestia came closer with a sideways muzzle, keeping her eye to fill the hole, looking in, needing to see the expressions of those inside better.

"I'm, uh, again sorry about this." Though her voices came from floors below, it rang up, echoing from and across the ground. Surround speakers before they had the chance to be invented. "I promise to make it up to each and every one for you as well for all the work and the building itself. Please forgive me for that."

And not getting a response from that, the big mare pulled away, unable to hold back a sigh, slowly walking away. Celestia's stomps and thumps echoed and were still immediate despite the growing distance. Those in the building either left or put on coats.

I fear all the ideal conditions for my day off is starting to lose themselves.

"Princess Celestia! Please! Down here once more!" that voice buzzed in her ear and the princess, looking around, then glanced down. Turning the greatness of her neck to the building at her left. On its top was the little mare she was set to meet today. "Great great! Phenomenal! You are looking dashing as requested! Do be sure to wipe off your derriere."

Photo Finish had been waiting on the roof in exactly the spot where she knew everything would play out, telling from the distant and approaching thuds that the large one would be near—proportionally large in all the right places of course. The princess looked magnificent in how the largess of her body curved to the corner of the road.

So much ahead, yet looking left and back, seeing her.

Celestia's muzzle loomed above and bloated out a few clouds in its size alone. Then it turned with waterfalls of mane flourishing over as well. She gazed at her rump to the dust and debris coating the skirt. She hugged the width of her backside at once, coming to pat it, an adorable pose.

"Perfection! Already the essence for the photoshoot!" Photo left the giantess to the cleaning as she trotted to the other side of the building, the next section of the city coming to open, vast and empty with the surrounding buildings outfitted with cameras. "The scene is already prepared for yours truly. I see those unclassed workers at the port did their duty in dressing you well."

Perfect snapped back to the giantess behind it. Celestia jumped at this in stepping back, the crashing and rocking of the world teasing to her immensity. Despite her size, she'd become timid, afraid of such a tiny mare. "T-They did rather well indeed... though maybe we should cancel the photoshoot."

"Do not let the accident with your bottom cause you to lose your mood! Indeed what a scene it was to watch it all happen! Come now." Photo stared forward and pointed a hoof the same. "Any damage you cause over here will be safe! You wanted to entertain the public with your looks once more—did you not? Think of how the special will be in the magazine!"

From behind and overhead, the giantess cocked her head, thinking on the matter, the heart she had before, now, no more. That confidence and teasing of her beauty somehow removed. Now that will simply not do.

"You think ponies will still care to see me—much less at this size?"

Photo's cracked an eyebrow high enough that, even if it could not be seen, indeed, it's effect could be felt. "Have you gone mad in your boredom? Think of the males! The females! Those who would love to be cast inside the skirt and crushed underneath that rump!"

She slapped a hoof in the air. "Bah! Even those in the building only wish they had been close in the impact! Worries hamper the mood." Photo stomped the ground. "Fixate on your doubts later where the mood does not matter. For now... focus! Why did you agree to do this photoshoot?"

Celestia's throat, a snowy volcano, stretched to the sky as her head went forever higher. Her lips pushed left and bunched together in an expression that was swallowed in thought. There was an occasional twitch through the frame. Performer's anxiety.

"I suppose it's because it's been such a long time since I've done one last." Celestia blinked at the thought and at the wisp of hair escaping her cap. She blew it to the side to the feeling evoking a bluish. "And even then it was for photos of a princess instead of a mare. Suppose I... really missed being teasing."

Photo smirked. "Then a tease you will be! Come now! Give ponies cause to want to be inside a cart that is crushed underneath your flank! Its slow drop and powerful piling atop a building! Do not thoughts ruin you! Follow that feeling and do as you please!"

Celestia cocked her head to the side as that wisp of mane was still underneath the front of her hat, the rest of it either tucked inside or behind her head. Finally she smiled. Giving up the fight and submitting to the request.

"Okay Shoot." Celestia nodded with a flash of a smirk. "You've convinced me."

"It can take it!" Photo shouted from the center of the empty lanes, the photo crew behind her while, ahead, a lone bleacher was between the roads. It could house some of those visiting a stadium—however, it could not hold a stadium itself. "Don't you worry about it now! Such a long shoot so far! You deserved to rest!'

Two hooves of white swallowed the dome from the road on either side of the crew, a shadow set over them. They were proficient enough to not look up as the shot laid ahead. The bleacher continued to loom in the emptiness of it all. That was until the edges of the skirt dangled into view.

Like the slow drop of stage curtains.

Until everything stopped.

Photo groaned and looked up. Between the towers of forelegs revealing the massiveness above. Celestia's muzzle looked directly down, mane scattered over her face, the cap leaning more than it should. "A-Are you sure about this?"

"Indeed! Now plump your rump and take a seat!"

Celestia nodded and the muscles in her haunches ceased efforts. Her rump crashed into the ground to the immediate imploding to the bench. Its radius, hidden, to the skirt collapsing over the area. Little pelts flourished the fabric; all settled in a second.

"Now lean back a little!"

The stretch of an out of view barrel did precisely that, the skirt pulling back with it, revealing the dusk behind it. Two mountainous flanks resting on flattened steel with scattered bits trapped around it. The starting curve of Celestia's crotch, teased, as the rest of it rolled into the skirt.

"Good good! Now sitting simply won't do it!" Photo herself fell to the left, lying on her side, being one with the model. "Fall to the ground. Lie back a little. Be like a kitty in a plush bed!"

Celestia did exactly so and it was a few seconds before the result could be experienced. In the planes where there was nothing, suddenly, there was an all-consuming shadow. Lanes and the land between, swallowed, underneath the massiveness of the giantess's side. Her head was like a mountain resting on the ground, looking to the camera crew, an eye covered in mane.

"Yes yes! Exactly that! Now spread out your limbs!"

Celestia blinked and it cast a wind across the street. The massiveness of arms and legs spread out to accentuate her playfulness. Lights shone from the surrounding buildings. The pose, captured, from the multiple crews.

But regardless of the shot or the photo, despite the length of staggering beauty that was the princess, for whatever reason, Celestia's heart didn't seem to be in it. She had all the requirements to be a knockout, and yet, the simple posing wasn't doing it for her.

Why is that? She is beautiful and the spawn of unending art—yet her soul is not within the work. Photo laid on the ground like her model, though stroking her chin, attempting to summon thought. She is not in the mood! But how do I spark that back into her? By feeling! But what could she...

Photo looked in the distance to the giant mare rolling around like a dog, the expanse of road and booths and trees, enriched in shadows before crushed underneath her frame—the feeling tugging at the giantess's lips. That was it. Little pleasures to evoke one into the matter.

Celestia rolled around in the section of the city that barely fit her, unable to get into the mood by herself, working best in having someone to tease or the like. Yet in working before the crew and doing as she pleased, the mare could not get the feeling to be right.

"Pegasi! To the air with your camera—I have an idea!"

The princess cocked an eyebrow at seeing the crew suddenly taking to the sky, which allowed her to sit up like normal. She breathed a little of the cooler air in being worn from the modelling. Though between her legs squeaked up the voice of Photo.

"Princess! A favour if you will?"

Celestia looked down far below to the little one and, in nodding, providing a hoof. Photo climbed onto it and was lifted to the sky faster than an elevator. She stood in the center of the squish and looked out the titan. "I have a proposition for you! The city has informed me that some of its buildings are set for destruction."

Celestia blinked. "Really?"

"Indeed! They allowed us this section in particular in being informed of our intentions." Photo grinned in looking over the giantess shoulder, which she did the same, to the brown building currently leaned against. It groaned from the slender weight. "They said it would not be an issue if any damages came to it. In fact. The destruction of such... would be greatly appreciated."

That was odd. Celestia looked across the lanes to the buildings side-to-side after the sidewalk. They barely rose to her waist while she stood. In coming to do precisely that, the ground crunching, sinking, and crumbling beneath her hoof, she went to the series of complexes with her muzzle hanging above them.

It was cocked and her shadow dressed the lot. Confused was her expression as she looked to the crews on the streets for support. Half were dazed and the other half had their hooves pumped. They wanted this. Looking to the crowd, she lifted a foreleg and, nonchalantly, slicked the roof of a building.

It shot at a tap and smacked into the ground below. Sliding across the street and disintegrating in its travels. The piece stopped feet before the ponies, all unable to see over its cliff, caught within its warpath. Celestia stood far behind it waiting for the reaction.

To the chorus of cheers that erupted, like singing mice in a stadium, to her ears.

It seems they rather enjoyed that.

Blinking again due to the little flashes around her face, Celestia whizzed around in place, unintentionally crushing stands and trees, pots and lots, underneath the shifting and stepping of her hooves. Little bugs of Pegasus hummed around her to the flashes of their cameras.

Celestia smiled. Shake of the head to knock that strand of mane to the side of her face. Winking and smirking to a touch of tongue. Looking back to the topless building, where a stairwell and a hallway rested inside, the mare got devious, a glance to the hips that had caused so much issue.

Slowly the mare strode to the back of the building, the passage to the next lane, narrow, forcing the giantess to be squeezed. The joining building hugged across her frame, bunching it, cracks shooting across the structure in her moving through.

Once the mare had reached the other side, the majority of her body, hidden, behind the buildings, her head rose from behind the stack. She came to rise a little, the casting of her shadow, sudden and swallowing, sprawling across the long street to before the crew.

The cast looked up in amazement at the princess taking the tops of three buildings underneath the fluff of her chest, which crashed on them a second later, a boom and a shock wave of dust, the dull sound of power flourishing out.

Ripples formed across the tops and spread in spiderwebs down their fronts, expanding and deepening as the chest was depressing harder into their shelters. Celestia leaned over them with hooves crossing over and dangling over their fronts, the explosions of windows, behind and around them, as the pressure on the structures became tremendous.

"That is it! Show us every reason to fall in love with you! Every little teasing and exposing of perfection!" Photo's voice floated from the street though she was hard to be seen in the darkness of the giant's shadow. Yet her voice, powered by passion, buzzed forever upward. "You are the embodiment of all that is splendid! Do not be that which you think you should be! Instead follow whatever feeling compels you to be regardless of its wildness!"

Those on the sidewalks before the building, the energetic lot running in circles, shooting photos upward and avoiding the debris crashing downward, were treated to views to extraneous and floating fluff to the groans and bending of the buildings.

Suddenly the titan above them pulled from view. Above them like a filly looming over her playset. Seconds passed until the order to run was given. Great squeaks ruminate from afar to the incoming of desirable terribleness.

The pegasi floating in the air saw it clear. The massive mare and her derriere parked before the first victim of a building. An eye cocked back, half-lidded and knowing, the edge of a smirk, informing all, that the girl knew exactly what she was about to do.

Mass of rump, situated before the building, swells of softness, rounder, than the midsection of it all. Without warning and a tongue stuck out, the mare thrust back, the massive ass crashing through steel and concrete, tearing across flooring and raining the remains.

Those on the ground were presented with their reason for running as, in a matter of seconds, a plum-shaped shadow passed over—shooting across the long street. They beat faster to escape its range as, around them, desks and tables, parts of walls and sections of floors, in clunks and clumps, pelted around the road.

Looking up revealed the underside of the derriere as it pushed to the other side, cleanly broken through, the skirt flouncing from the motion. The panties underneath were flash to the thickly swell of flanks barely suppressed. They jostled, unrestrained by the underwear, which fought to stop the earthquakes of the booty via flexing fabric.

As the cheeks bounced into slowness, a torrent of carnage, little concerning the massiveness it spawned from, blasted out before falling down. Everything caught inside the building brought in the motion of the butt, carried several feet past it in a splash across the air.

Slowly the skirt crashed down and whipped the oncoming torrent with a boost.

Celestia wasn't done as, in wagging her rump to the left, slammed it, then, forcefully right. Side of a cheek knocking into the building to the immediate collapse on contact. It disintegrated before the rest of the motion could carry through. To think, utter hardness, defeated, by immense softness.

That wrecking flanks so plush and so finely shaped.

The rump flew through the building and launched it to the side, the pieces clattering into the passage, pouring in a stream that flushed out into the street. Above it the rump in a sway had splayed another douse of the debris. Everything rained from it as it slowed above.

Celestia's head fell back and cocked an inch to the side, the head roll of satisfaction brought on by fun. Mane was knocked loose from the cap, layered before her face, the prismatic shine, adding to the allure of the hungry girl.

Then she looked to the third building of the lot, the one mostly untouched, finding a need to grin once again. In striding over to it, each step rattling the world, the view was seen through the building's remains. Most only a few floors, each missing their middle, without much remains to it. Every step caused them to rock, the rest of a base, crumbling, a corner of the building, piling into itself.

Nothing remained of them once the legs of length, behind them, had strode past.

"Photo! Photo! We have an issue!"

Photo's head wagged to be removed from the trance of watching a large mare at work. Her bottom lip crashed into her top in looking back at the assistant. "Yes yes? What is it? Fired if not a worthy distraction."

The pegasus unfurled a wing forward, a scroll, held out, from the center of it. "Newspaper printed a few moments ago. Equestrian Englad (ask NC for AJ news name). The headline might ruin the theme of the shots."

"Gimme that." Photo's snout tilted up as she swiped the paper. "Go. You may continue to work for me."

The stallion was unsure to feel relieved or disappointed, a risk of losing a job, survived, to no reward. Why even take the risk if nothing would come from it. With slumped shoulders and a muzzle to the ground, the echoes of beams creaking lifted his gaze and, in looking to the towering building of white—something whiter was seconds from setting on it.

The airship of a rump loomed over its room, the length of massive wings, teasing into view, coming to pull the hem of the skirt back. Everything underneath became exposed. The hefty flanks, wobbling on nothing, flicking to the cheeks' shifting, the delicious sliding happening beneath the underwear. The fat of the flanks was squeezed by the panties, barely fitting within them, the moving of hips, keeping them smacking into each other, a dance a princess hadn't thought she'd give.

The pegasi fluttered higher above to get a better view of the shot. Seeing the titan lower at the front and rise at the back. The magnitude of Celestia's rump settled in a bounce—able to knock the world around. Clasps like narrow bridges flexed in becoming tugged due to underwear and stocking furthering.

Celestia's head was low as she looked up to her rump, which crashed down as creamy meteorites, each cheek, swelling out, on the impact. Incredibly full were the twins as the clasps tried harder to pull sheets of fabric over the flanks. Ripples lifted and lowered the articles in their shooting across.

Curtains pulled to the side was the mane to the mare as it yanked across her face to reveal its full extent. The snout, bunched, to the opened mouth below. Light blush on the cheeks to the satisfaction of use found in being bottom-heavy.

Celestia's moons crashed onto the building to the pulling of her skirt, revealing the underwear ridden from over the swells of luscious orbs. The dock of her tail was up as her tail curved like a waterfall.

The building itself suffered the impact in a flash. Panels exploded and rooms crumbled and windows denoted. Crunches deepened into the roof and down the structure. The ass, dropping, with a touch of a rub.

Deep tissues broke across the roof and rocketed down its sides.

One the wrecking balls of softness had caved through the roof of the building and fell a decent way, the racing of their momentum died as, in the second next, the twins wobbled upward and jiggled around. The ripples breaking across the curve of the cheeks knocked them back down, blasting through the building again, the jiggles of a rump, monstrous, in repeatedly assaulting the structure.

Each smack of the bottom caved a floor in. Drop after clap after bounce of rump, lever after level, destroyed and removed, leaving a shortening building. Celestia raised her bottom to the dropping of her chest, arched perfectly enough that, to most, the sun became eclipsed.

Celestia crashed down harder and faster to the dream of every bomb, the mass of her ass, its center, set to plow through the building. Floors and rooms and stairwells, existing in a second and, in the next, removed to the filling of booty.

Everything removed and bent to the butt falling through. Capturing the area of the building with inches to space with her ass. Celestia launched up as her rump tore through the center of the complex. It landed at the base to a tremendous thud, one that knocked the city, carts jumping, buildings leaning, the boats at the port suddenly rocking to intense waves.

The mare fell through the building as it blasted outward from under her. Not in time as, in the seconds next, the rest of her followed through. In her rump touching the ground, everything rocketed outward. The structure was still falling and did so away as she sat like filly crushing a sandcastle with a leap and crash of her bottom onto it.

Those on the ground had found a safe place in a castle of sandbags, deep inside of it with all slits to peek through, of course, layers in cameras. Safe was it somehow in all the chaos passing over it. A cloud of dust had risen from the scene though, after a few moments, settled down to reveal the view.

It was of the princess, the volume of her rump, set on the vast and flattened remains. Those in the safe place with their head stuck out the ducks, look up, seeing the mare's muzzle in the sky. She was blinking in the aftermath of it all. Breathing heavily as heavenly pants replaced the breeze.

She glanced down at the anthill all the way from heaven. "H-How was that? With more feeling this time?"

Photo blinked from inside the castle and, on coming to exit from its side, walked onto the street in focusing up at the sitting giant. "Ah yes! Very well indeed! Exactly what we were looking for... bit amateurish and overdone—but a beat in the right direction."

Celestia's shoulders dropped and the loss of mood was loud in its own way. "Thought I was having a little too much fun."

"It's not a matter of that! It's, well..." Photo shook her head and held out a scroll on a hoof. It was a miracle that action could be gleaned as, above, the princess's horn lit. The dot of paper was lifted before the sky of the white. "Tis better if you read for yourself. I doubt the matter will mean trouble for us. Though you could imagine a little difficulty... rising with you."

Celestia's grand eyes, squeezed to an iota of being open, read the paper. Shame massive reading glasses have yet found their invention. Thankfully a charge of magic can solve all.

The paper read.

Equestrian Englad

Giant Danger in the Little City? GIGANTIC Princess Celestia, Carelessly, Breaks Hole into Office Building—Using Her Rump!

Full Story on Page One.

Celestia's shoulders dropped and nearly clattered over the city. Leaning back over buildings as she towered as a snowy beacon. Eyes around the city, at this moment, no doubt, on her. Same ones about to read that paper and see that hole in that building.

Much less the destruction happening here.

Everything had returned to going well, and in an instant, it returned to being horrible.

She looked from the paper before catching the image they'd printed on it. Gloss of a sign glinted in the corner of vision. In looking down the street theirs for the rest of the day, there had been a building, not one set to be destroyed, but bearing a polished title.

Equestrian Englad (Second Location!)

Celestia's frown saddened her expression. In rolling over on her rump and coming to stand forward and up, the giantess strode toward the building, those at her hooves, forced to scamper from underneath them—barely missing the shadows that were crunched in by colossal hooves.

This will teach you to ruin a photoshoot that had just started to go well!

Ponies flushed to either side of the mare, unsure of what she would do in standing at the building which, at its highest, barely touched her ankles. The cute sailor stared at the structure. Any other day and this would have slid. It wasn't worth the trouble of taking personal offence for all the problems that would crop up from it.

The headlines, then, that would come in the papers.

The possible and rising fear from her subjects in seeing their princess commit such a thing.

The terrible example she'd be setting for her nation on how to behave.

And yet.

The princess had forgotten she was not a princess today and, since it was her day off, took no trouble in twirling, skirt furling to the rising of a hindleg. Coming into the turn, the mare blasted the leg out, taut thigh, despite broad, delivering the power needed for the kick.

The immense hoof smashed into the building and crumbled it in a second, everything littering into rock, the mare holding the kick. Energy behind that anger, transported through the kick, demolishing the building. Celestia's expression, though angered, was assured.

Assure of the power she possessed and the determination she could ruin the buildings of those who first tried to ruin her. It was a powerful feeling, despite being misplaced, to destroy a structure, easily, of those bullying her.

But once the satisfaction flushed through her.

Only disappointment in herself rose.

Photo and the rest were on the street as the mare turned and walked across the road, the beams of hooves, travailing forward, causing the barrel of the mare to pass overhead. They were blanket in shadow as the dim belly loomed overhead. That, and the parks of fabric of the sailor outfit.

The model strode away from the crew, returning them to light once she was far, not bothering to turn back as she spoke.

"I'm taking five."