Chapters “Okay, Spike, could you pass me the maticore tears?”
Spike cluelessly blinked back at his mentor.
“The blue one!”
“Oh, right…”
His mind was not on the task at hand today.
Perhaps it was simply a side effect of last night’s after-hours study session, but Spike could swear that the floor beneath him rumbled every few seconds. He held a keen eye on the window, cautiously watching for anything out of the ordinary. The birds chirruped, the sun blazed, the grass whistled in the wind; first impressions seemed to indicate that everything was normal in Ponyville today, pleasant even.
But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something. He hoisted up onto the windowframe, pressing his scaly snout to the glass, and that’s when he saw it.
Too busy carefully mixing potions, Twilight didn’t see anything, but she certainly heard it, and grumbled, forced away from her work for the fourth time this morning.
“Spike, is that the sound of-?”
“Ponies running away in terror? Sure looks like it…”
The unicorn huddled in beside her assistant to get a good look. Surely enough, a pack of ponies were stampeding through town, calling out in plaintive horror, carelessly upturning flower stalls and trampling flower beds as they made their desperate flee.
“What in Equestria is going on out there!?” Twilight snapped her potion book shut and stormed down the stairs to investigate.
Rarity was too immersed in creative flow to hear the turbulence outside. After months of waiting, her order of Saddle Arabian silk had arrived. She measured the fabric and sliced out a few long strips, pausing to admire the way it gleamed and glimmered in the light. She brushed it up against her cheek to feel the dreamy softness, but before she had a chance to lay it down onto her dress, the door to her boutique burst open, splintering the little greeting bell above it.
Rarity turned and drew in a deep, gasping breath.
“Heya, Rarity. Miss me?”
The intrusive visitor was none other than Gilda the griffon, standing at about twice Rarity’s height and struggling to shift her hefty hips through the door. Her wide, furry cheeks lodged in the frame, until eventually she pulled them through with a grunt and a flabby pop.
“G-G-Gilda! Wh-why whatever brings you to m-my-”
“I wanna buy a dress.” She stroked her claw across one of Rarity’s more expensive frocks, flashing the pony a devilish grin.
“A dress? Really? Well, I’m not sure if-”
Rivers of the stuff dripped and drizzled down her fur, a dark, greasy puddle had already formed on the floor, and the hot unwashed stench was so thick that Rarity could almost see it shimmering in the air. A few flies orbited the beast, wheeling around in the hot stink before ultimately succumbing to it and plummeting down to the ground.
Rarity gagged into her mouth, struggling to arrange her thoughts into some kind of response.
“L-Listen, Gilda! I want you out of my boutique this in-instant!”
Gilda plodded closer, one step at a time, watching Rarity’s willpower crumble with every whiff of her raunchy B.O.
“I won’t h-have you disgracing my livelihood with that appalling, fetid, malodorous-”
“Listen, bitch. I said I want a dress, and you’re gonna shut your pony trap and make me one! I’m the customer, and that means I’m always right!”
Rarity shrunk down as Gilda stepped closer and closer still. In her frenzied state she made the quick decision to dash for the exit, but before she could get even two hoofsteps away Gilda seized her by the tail and swung the unicorn towards her.
Cast back through the air, Rarity was so disoriented that she didn’t realize what was happening until it was all too late. She landed with a dull impact against something damp and fuzzy.
She screamed out bloody murder, but her cries were lost entirely within Gilda’s messy underarm fur. Even if her pleas had been heard, nopony with any sense would dare come within a hundred feet of the reeking boutique. The griffon tightened her grip on the back of the dressmaker’s head, driving her snout in deeper, making sure Rarity got a nice solid sniff of what two months without washing had done to her. No amount of tugging or twisting could overpower Gilda’s firm grasp.
“There. Much better.”
She unplugged Rarity from under her arm with a plop and threw her across the room, her face stained and matted with fresh sweat. She could feel it tingling in her nostrils and dripping down the back of her throat. Gilda’s musky pits smelled and tasted like malt vinegar, and no amount of coughing or spluttering made the burning sensation any better.
Rarity scrambled across the boutique floor. Her horn flickered into life. She could have used what little magic she had in this languished state to throw something at Gilda, or perhaps pull herself up to her hooves, but instead she grabbed a small pink can of air freshener with her magic and pumped out the entire bottle’s worth into the poisoned ambience of the room. She even sprayed herself in the face, and yet the chemical sting was but an ember compared to the unbearable blazing sensation of sweat mingling in her throat.
Gilda watched the sorry display with a steady smirk. After the can was emptied, Rarity inhaled. The air around her finally smelled halfway fresh by comparison. But that didn’t last long. It only took seconds for Gilda’s essence to drown out the smell of summer flowers. If anything, it hit Rarity even harder after that brief respiratory respite.
“Please… I’m sorry… You’ve m-made your point, just leave my boutique alone!”
“Naw, I don’t think so! These dresses look like they could use a little color in them!”
Gilda swiped for a billowy white wedding dress, one Rarity had made by commission for a wealthy couple in Canterlot, and ignoring Rarity’s exhaustive cries, she lifted up one of her arms and scrubbed her stinking pit with the wadded-up garment. It was delightful to dab off some sweat, even if she knew more would appear in its place within just seconds. She watched all hope drain away from Rarity’s face as she doused the dress in her other mushy pit, and when she finally fished it out it was an off-yellow color and dripping thick, rancid drops of sweat.
She raised it over Rarity’s quivering body, pinned her tail down under one of her paws, shone another one of her signature smirks and then wrung the soiled heap of fabric out, all over Rarity’s precious mane.
There were at least three pints of moisture sponged up in the thing, and all of it came pouring down onto the repulsed unicorn. She sputtered and shook, some of the acrid taste spilling into her mouth as the lukewarm liquid dribbled down her face. By the end of the ordeal her once-white coat was stained the color and stench of pure griffon filth. Even a hundred baths could not return her fur to its fresh, snowy state.
“Wh-Why?” Is all Rarity could manage. Every breath was filled with sweat and saltwater. Not a single thought passed through her mind that wasn’t tainted by Gilda’s pits.
She stared up in a haze, just about making out the wide, round shape of Gilda’s massive ass flying towards her before it was far too late to react.
The loud impact of Gilda taking her seat rung out through the otherwise empty boutique. She slammed herself down so hard onto the pony’s head she thought she’d crushed it. Her pillowy cheeks had cushioned the blow, but now that Rarity was tucked tightly into Gilda’s crack, and smelling her rancid taint, death might have been more preferable. The unicorn squirmed and floundered about, warming the plushy, musky mass with a fit of desperate screams. Gilda’s pits smelled like paradise compared to her pink puckered asshole, which pinched Rarity’s snout before clumsily aligning with her open mouth.
“Yelling like that is the worst mistake you ever made, bitch.” Her orifice pulsed between Rarity’s lips. The dressmaker couldn’t possibly imagine her suffering getting any worse, but just to show her that it absolutely could, Gilda’s stomach gurgled.
“Oof, if there’s one thing I hate more than your dumb ponies’ fashion, it’s your awful food! Open wii-iide!”
Rarity struck her hooves against the floor, against Gilda’s haunches—anything to just pull herself away. But it was of no use, Gilda’s anus widened again, and this time with more than just a threat. Out poured a noxious breeze, coursing like a rough river down Rarity’s available airways. The roaring sound of griffon fart was muffled in Rarity’s cheeks, which puffed out to accommodate the merciless flow of gas.
Rarity squirmed, the final vestiges of her willpower sapping away with the taste of thick sulfurous fog rolling across her tongue and down her throat. Her flailing movements slowed, her muscles hungering for oxygen. Gilda cinched off the meaty ripper, just to catch her breath, then bore down twice as hard on the unicorn’s face and restarted the flow. She could keep this record-breaker going all morning if she wanted to.
Along with this next torrent of fumes came a healthy splattering of bitter ass sweat, coating the inside of Rarity’s mouth and making her want to die just a little bit more.
Blissful, deceptively dainty moans and purrs of relief trickled through Gilda’s smirking beak. Here she was, pumping her foul flatulence into a pretty little pony’s head, and she was just down there taking it; marinading in the expired, gaseous by-products of everything she had eaten over the last day or two. Gilda could even hear the pathetic little thing gulping the raw flatus down her throat, choosing to burn her stomach lining rather than her lungs.
With one claw rubbing circles into her growling, emptying stomach, Gilda swiped out for more of Rarity’s dresses with the other, giving each one a nice soak in her squishy pits. Even if Rarity recovered from the brutal gassing she was receiving, Gilda would see to it that she could never make a dress again without recalling the smell and taste of her nasty birdy butt.
“Big Mac!” Applejack raced across the farmyard, searching for her big brother in quite the panic. She glanced over the orchard, and her fears were confirmed; each and every apple tree had been cleared of its fruit. Every one. Not even the worst parasprite infestation could cause such destruction.
She found Big Mac over by the old barn, his eyes wide as saucers and his lips trembling in terror.
“Big Mac! Now, am I goin’ loopy or have all the apples in the orchard up and vanished?”
“Ci-Ci…” Big Mac stammered, raising up his hoof to point his sister in the direction of ten empty cider barrels, all upturned across the grass.
“Heavens to betsy! All of this year’s cider! All of next year’s cider! Just what in the hay is goin’ on here? You got anything to do with this, Big Mac? Y’think Apple Bloom and her friends have been messin’ with the produce again?”
But before her brother could stutter out an answer, Gilda came stomping around the side of the barn, emptying the last barrel of cider right down her throat.
She tossed it down the hill and wiped the foam from her beak, licking away the final drops of fermented fruit just to mock her onlookers.
“Yo, AJ! Big M! How’s it going?”
“Gilda! Now, you listen here, you oversized varmint! Nopony steals the Apple family’s crop and gets away with it!”
Gilda shrugged. “Good thing I’m not a pony then!” And faced the barn, drawing in a deep, lung-filling breath.
Big Macintosh heard it first, then his sister; a deep, furious bubbling sound, starting down in the depths of Gilda’s stomach and slowly rising up through her gullet. It was like a bottle rocket building up pressure, ready to blow at any minute.
“Take cover!” Applejack pounced behind a hay bale just in time. With the force of several thousand cyclones, a thunderously loud belch rushed through Gilda’s wide open beak, rattling her throat as it echoed around the entire orchard.
Big Mac tucked his ears and covered them with his hooves, the sound of Gilda’s burp was so deafening that his entire skull started to shake.
Her expression was surprisingly relaxed as her throat muscles went lax and let this cider-smelling hurricane roar out against the wooden panels of the old barn. They shuddered. The nails holding them down started to rumble and loosen from the onslaught. Pretty soon, Gilda’s chesty eructation tore the planks away from their foundations. She moved her head, directing her forceful release and controlling the path of its destruction.
Seconds marched on, then even minutes, and she showed no signs of stopping. The barn split apart, and only a few seconds later the entire front face of the building had been reduced to splintered rubble.
As if the destruction, and the ear-puncturing volume weren’t bad enough, a reek of stomach acid and cider now blanketed the entire farmyard. Applejack and her brother dug their muzzles into the mud just to avoid smelling Gilda’s minute-spanning eruption.
It finally rumbled down into silence after almost four minutes. Gilda was quite proud of herself, but still had some finishing touches to add.
“Yo, Applejack! Get over here!”
Slowly Applejack got up to her hooves, catching whiffs of the foul apple-tinged scent as she staggered towards the ruthless catbird. It beggared belief that such a toxic, fuming haze could come from inside the stomach of a living thing. A particularly pungent note of something rich made it even more painful to inhale. That was undoubtedly from the pounds of raw meat in Gilda’s diet, something pony nostrils could never accustom to.
“What do you want!? Haven’t you done enough damage?”
Gilda drummed her talons against her chin with a thoughtful roll of her eyes. “Hmm… nah! I don’t think so! But hey, do you really want your cider back?”
“Yes…?”
Gilda’s wicked grin told Applejack that was not the answer she should have given.
The griffon reared up on her paws, reaching two talons down to her juicy bird cunt and spreading her puffy lips.
“Then I hope you’re thirsty!”
Before Applejack could even comprehend the sight of Gilda’s spread curtains, the beastly griffon gave a grunt and a violent yellow stream sprung from between them. With a bit more exertion, the flow increased, and then increased some more, until Gilda’s honey-colored piss raged out of her muff with the power of a firehose.
She started by wetting the grass, flooding it into one big sharp, tangy-smelling morass. Then, pumping her piss streak with intermittent grunts, she aimed it right at Applejack, knocking her hat from her head and whooping in celebration.
Every one of Applejack’s instincts told her to charge Gilda there and then, but she knew that insurrection would only result in a far more humiliating fate. That, and the smell of her stomach air still lingered all around the farm, weakening her resolve considerably.
“Open that trap of yours, cowgirl!” Gilda spread her pussy wider, increasing the flow yet again, dribbling it over Applejack’s freckled cheeks.
With some reluctance, Applejack’s lips parted. She teared up from the utter humiliation of it all, but wasn’t given long to mourn her situation because Gilda’s torrent of rancid bird piss barged its way into her mouth. She spluttered and tried to spit the awfully bitter, briny taste back out, but in response Gilda just stepped closer.
Faster than Applejack could possibly anticipate it, Gilda gripped a rough clawful of Applejack’s mane and stuffed her face into her crotch. Her powerful jet spewed directly into her mouth. Applejack balked and thrashed, but Gilda’s hold was far stronger than even the push of her prize-winning apple bucking legs.
There Applejack remained, jammed deep into smelly griffon crotch and poured full of gallons of hot, fresh juice. Gilda’s thighs gripped her head like a vice, fastening her in place.
Eventually, when AJ’s spirit had been drowned out entirely, the surge dribbled down to a few final drops. Gilda rubbed her fishy lips over Applejack’s face before casting her limp body into the dirt.
Applejack rolled around and groaned. She glanced down at her body, her stomach now three times its normal size. Slinking her head to one side, she gagged, but all she brought up was Gilda’s piss. She regurgitated a few more mouthfuls of warm, salty liquid before passing out in a puddle of it.
Throughout this entire affair, Big Mac had been too terrified to issue even a squeak of surprise. He had simply watched on as his sister was washed and filled up with piss. Gilda considered him for a second, before shrugging the thought off, letting out a raunchy fart in his direction, and marching off to attend to her next victim.
Next on Gilda’s hit list was Pinkie Pie. Of all the revenge she was set to enjoy that day, this was by far the one she was most looking forward to. Ever since her humiliating departure from Ponyville her hatred for this dumb pink pony had festered. Her stupid voice, the way she bounced around like an idiot the entire time, and especially the way she had turned her old friend Rainbow Dash into a namby-pamby, friendship-loving… urgh ! Just the thought of Pinkie Pie infuriated Gilda to no end. Her footfalls came extra heavy as she stormed towards the gauche candy-constructed sweet shop, she knew she would find Pinkie inside, probably playing a stupid party game, eating her stupid cupcakes or something equally as juvenile.
As she forced her way into the establishment, though, Gilda was immediately met with surprise.
The place had been decked out with all of Pinkie’s party paraphernalia; streamers, bunting, showering confetti and a table lined end to end with candies, cakes and sweet treats of every variety. The most alarming thing, though, was the huge banner strung up across the ceiling reading ‘Happy Welcome back to Ponyville after leaving in disgrace, Gilda!’
Pinkie had planned all this for her !?
She didn’t have long to think about it before the party pony herself hopped her way across the room, stringing a festive hat over Gilda’s noggin and pressing a smiling snout up against her..
“I was wondering when you’d show up, party gal!” Pinkie beamed, retrieving a noisemaker from the endless void of her rump and blowing it in Gilda’s face.
“What? Huh? How’d you know I was-”
“In town? Well, my party sense flared up something fierce! It’s kinda like my Pinkie sense, only it lets me know when there’s a pony, or, in your case, a griffon, in the vicinity in need of a shindig! Don’t worry, I’ve got all your favorite games, and this time I promise none of ‘em are booby trapped!”
Gilda, still awestruck, looked around at everything Pinkie had put on display. All of it Pinkie had worked tirelessly to arrange, and all of it just for her. Perhaps Pinkie’s intention was to cheer her up, maybe make her change her mind about eviscerating her friends under her fat fuming ass, but instead it just made her even angrier.
“You just don’t get it, do you!? You pony dweebs are just, just… just more than I can handle!”
Gilda struck first with her natural odor. Even though she’d wicked a good deal of sweat off onto that uptight rag-makerRarity, the walk over to Sweet Apple Acres and back had built up even more. She raised her right arm up behind her head, using the other to waft the ripe stench of exposed pit right into Pinkie’s face.
The pony’s nostrils flared a bit, but her smile remained
“Pee yew! No offence, Gilda, but I think you need a shower!”
“What!? Why aren’t you reeling in disgust? Why aren’t you rolling around on the floor with your nostrils turning inside out!?” She pushed her armpit closer, almost touching Pinkie, who simply gave it another whiff and giggled.
“Sti-nky! Totally reminds me of Rainbow Dash right after practice! That pegasus sure knows how to work up a sweat!”
Gilda grumbled impatiently. Just as expected, this little pink twerp was being a nuisance and not letting up. No, it would take stronger stuff to break through that perky outer shell of hers.
That’s when Gilda looked around herself, at all the party supplies laid out, particularly at the large banquet of sugary treats, and it struck her. Pinkie had unwittingly constructed the perfect means of revenge and laid it right out in front of her.
Her smirk returned.
“Say, Pinkie, this is my party, right?”
“You got it!”
“And so I guess that makes me the party queen, which means I get exactly whatever I want!”
“Well of course, silly! It wouldn’t be your party if you weren’t the guest of honor!”
Gilda’s smile widened.
“Okay, well I want some birthday kisses.”
Pinkie faltered for the briefest of moments. “Huh. Well, I can’t say I was expecting that, but you are the birthday griffon!” She leaned forward on her hooves with her lips puckering up in preparation.
“Oh no no no, not on the beak.” Gilda spun around, presenting her rank end to the eager hostess. “On the butt!”
Pinkie was confused at first, then slightly disgusted when she caught a whiff of Gilda’s tush.
“Yes! I’m sure! Now kiss me! Right here!” She spread her right cheek with a wet peeling sound, revealing her glisteningfart starwhich blinked a few times. “C’mon, Sinkie Pie! If you really love sweet treats so much, get a load of this griffon donut!”
Pinkie’s smile faded as she stared deep into Gilda’s dribbling crevass e. The horribly savory smell rollingoff it was already foul enough to make her eyes water, but when Gilda started grabbing up cakes and candies from the table and scarfing them down, Pinkie feared the smell would only get worse.
Suddenly, the looming threat of being buried alive under griffon butt grew closer. Literally. Gilda slowly backed Pinkie up against the wall, giving her hips a few meaty shakes as she did so. It was getting harder for Pinkie to avoid having her face up close and personal to that spread ass and her nostrils too close for comfort to its mind-numbing fragrance. Before she knew it, she was well and truly walled in.
“Kiss.” She instructed.
“W-Well, anything for the party queen!” Her lips pecked Gilda’s asshole quickly.
“Nuh uh. A proper kiss!”
“Gee, Gilda, I want you to have a great party and all, but maybe this is a teeny tiny bit-”
“Too late.” Was all the warning Pinkie got before a merciless storm of flatus broke against her face, bouncing her head into the wall.
Pinkie Pie reeled, trying to laugh away the atrocious smell like it was a forest full of ghosties, but in that moment she struggled to eek out even a giggle.
“Ahh!” Gilda fanned her claw around, pushing the foggy cloud of stink in Pinkie’s direction. “I gotta hand it to you, these cakes are delicious!” She slathered her beak in another generous clawful, “Shame my stomach doesn’t agree!”
Gilda’s stinkhole wobbled and splurted out another muddy fart, so thick with heat and oily, meaty filth that Pinkie’s coat was soaked. Her throat burned all the way down to her lungs as she was forced to inhale more and more fumes. It suddenly set in that there was truly no escape.
Still stuffing herself full of cakes and candy, Gilda shoved back into Pinkie’s head, crushing it against the wall and squeezing a little squeal of surprise from the pony’s squished lips.
There she rubbed herself around, kneading her fat mounds against the cotton candy cushion. Even with her skull being squashed and shaped like a ball of clay, Pinkie managed a grin.
“Boy, Gilda, you’re really putting the s-squeeze on me here! How about you ease up just a little? What do you say, ol’ buddy ol’-”
“Cut the chit chat, Stinkie Pie! I think you’re forgetting whose party this is! Now I want to hear you say something, and if you don’t say it exactly the way I ask, I’m gonna grind your stupid head into paste and fart it into powder! Got it?” She blazed through a fierce scowl.
“G-Gilda, I-”
The griffon lifted the pressure up from Pinkie for half a second, before shunting her ass back twice as hard, hard enough to make her eyes well up with tears. She couldn’t even move her head from left to right, and frankly she didn’t want to find out what would happen if she tried.
“Got. It?”
“Got it.” Pinkie whimpered back in defeat.
“Good. Y’know, I always knew you had the makings of a loyal butt-bitch, Pinkie Pie! You munch ass with the best of them!” Gilda cackled out, spraying spittle and chewed cake across the room. She turned back to look at Pinkie, her face all rumped under her ass, slick with sweat (and most of it not even hers) her eyes pinpointed with panic as she tried to breathe under all that claustrophobicpressure. If she pushed down on the poor thing any harder her head would go right through the wall!
“Say: ‘I’m a filthy, disgusting mud pony, and all I’m good for is sniffing Gilda’s raunchy farts .’ I’m giving you one shot. I got a real bad one brewing so I wouldn’t do anything stupid if I were you!”
The deep, gurgling sounds coming from Gilda’s overstuffed stomach validated her threat.
“I’m a… a…” Pinkie swallowed back the sorrowful lump in her throat, “I’m a filthy, filthy, disgusting m-mud pony, and… all I’m good for is sniffing Gilda’s… raunchy… farts.” Her voice croaked on the final word, and she broke out into a quiet sob.
“Hey, not bad! But I’m not convinced. My farts are really that raunchy, huh? Sounded like you were having a real hard time sucking them down.”
“Y-Yeah! Your farts are… oh, they stink! They’re s-so bad I wish I didn’t even have a muzzle right now… uh… is that good enough?”
“You’re kidding, right? Let’s try another one.” Gilda paused for a second to think and take a sip of punch. “Okay, okay… ‘I’m Stinkie Pie, and I love whiffing up Gilda’s delicious ass blasts! Yum yum yummy yum, can I have another juicy fart, miss Gilda ?’” The griffon burst into a fit of hysterics, forcing out a few nice, robust belches just to add to the spoiled state in the room. But Pinkie didn’t even crack a smile.
“Uh… Can you r-repeat it, mayb-”
“Nope. Lights out, Stinkie Pie!”
With this, Gilda bulldozed her ass back into Pinkie’s face, and a loud crumbling sound erupted as her head dented into the drywall. Pinkie’s face was now fully enveloped in butt on one side and submerged in plaster on the other, she screamed her lungs out in some pathetic attempt to make this torture stop, but her cries muffled into silence. To Gilda, they were little more than a pleasant vibration in her crack.
“Scream a little more, dweeb! You’re giving me a primo booty massage here!” She roared with laughter for a few more moments, but playtime was over. It was about time to execute this braindeadbubblegumdweeb.
Gilda’s stomach bubbled up like a chemistry experiment gone awry, she buckled over in a blend of suffering and satisfaction. Taking a few seconds more to savor the deliciously sharp intestinal pain, she allowedthe impending assault a few moments more to stir up and putrefy, as well as giving Pinkie a chance to pray to whichever royal rump she admired most that this would all be over quickly.
Tucked into Gilda’s sodden crack, Pinkie couldn’t even tell what was what. Her muzzle slipped up and down against something firm and fleshy, then something wet that made a squishing sound when she fought against it. All she knew was despite its warmth and softness, Gilda’s bum absolutely reeked. Her sickly ass smelled worse than garbage boiling in the summer sun, worse even than a thousand unchanged cake twin diapers, and the worst part of it was she hadn’t even started farting yet.
But that was about to change. The firm fleshy thing—her asshole, as it happened—tensed against Pinkie Pie a few times, as if to simply inform her of its current position jammed against her nostrils.
Pinkie burbled something out in those last few moments of tension. Perhaps a goodbye to her friends, an apology to Mr and Mrs Cake for the state this incoming fart would leave the shopfloor in, or maybe she used that last window of silence to just suck up to Gilda a little bit more in the hopes that it might somehow get through to her.
It didn’t, of course, Gilda could only feel a few whimpered words leaving Pinkie’s lips before she loosened up her sphincter and sealed her fate.
A long, voluminous fart blitzed out of her, every bit as powerful and destructive as she had hoped. Though muffled, it was still thunderously loud. Pinkie Pie’s face took the worst of the barrage, buffering the vilest of stenches. It was so piercingly hot that Pinkie swore it would straighten her mane and then burn it right down to its roots. Gilda’s fart didn’t just stop with Pinkie though, it spread across the entire room in a thick, churning cloud of death. The griffon covered her beak so as not to drown in her own eggy, carnivorouspollution. All of the food on the nearby buffet table turned immediately rancid; the milkshakes curdled, the candies hardened and cracked like shattered glass marbles, even the frosting atop every cupcake bubbled up before melting down the sides.
It was impossible to say for how long Gilda’s fart lasted, she was far too busy enjoying the blissful release to count the seconds in her head. Although minutes would have been a better unit of measurement; Gilda, without even breaking a sweat, broke several world records with the length, stench, and overall aggressiveness of her absolute whirlwind of rotten stench. With the entirety of Sugarcube Corner shuddering and decaying under the oppressive winds, Gilda finally raised herself up from Pinkie’s steamed head and her fartsputtered and sploshed to an end. One final wet hiss blew out into Pinkie’s lifeless face.
But her stomach wasn’t quite done with the pernicious pink cunt. Not yet. Something more substantial shifted through her lower intestine, led by a symphony of wet, gurgling groans. Oh yes! It was time to get even filthier. Gilda moaned, fingering her leaking pussy lips as her pooper opened up nice and wide. After a short overture from her belly, a violent flurry of watery brown slop shot out like a pressure washer, piling onto Pinkie’s limp body and then the rest of the floor. Gilda walked around the room as she evacuated her hot mess, spraying excremental oatmeal over every wall, every balloon, every stupid streamer and party game. All the while, her raunchy bird cunt squirted out thick globs of clear fluid as a nice little garnish. She left Sugarcube Corner baking under a generous pile of ripe, zesty griffon shit, but not before tearing down the welcome banner to wipe her sloppy ass clean.
luttershy paused to smell the flowers and watch the happily buzzing bees as she and Angel skipped their way back towards the cottage. The morning visit to the market had been a particularly successful one; Fluttershy carried in her a mouth a basket loaded with fresh, delicious veggies, herbs and cheeses. Some were of course for her animal friends, with the leftovers going straight into a nice healthy stew.
Angel stopped dead in his tracks. He sniffed at the air for a few seconds, before throwing an accusatory paw towards his owner.
“What!? No, Angel, that wasn’t me! I don’t know you could even suggest such a thing!” Fluttershy continued to trot past him, a blush now quite evident on her soft buttery cheeks.
But he was right. Something did smell funny. And as the pair continued up towards the cottage, the strange, garlicky stench grew only stronger.
When they reached the crest of the hill, they saw it.
A huge, choking green smog swirled over the canopies of the Everfree forest. Looking closer, Fluttershy noticed all of the leaves were slowly thinning down to their stalks, dying and shrivelling up. This had to be some kind of horrible pollution, or perhaps mysterious Everfree magic. Whatever it was, Fluttershy didn’t fancy sticking around to find out, and scooped Angel bunny up in her basket before cantering indoors.
But her cottage was in no better shape. The pervasive aroma was actually worse inside, so thick and sickening that Fluttershy could almost slurp it like soup. Something, or someone, had been here recently. There was a kind of warmth in the air, a presence. Her wings wafted open and shut to try and disperse it, but instead only cycled the fumes around the room.
As Fluttershy panicked and looked around, she noticed that not only did her cottage reek, her animal friends were nowhere in sight!
Empty cages swung from the roof, hutches were torn open, all of her pet’s feed bowls had been emptied and strewn about the floor.
“Oh, goodness! Angel, this doesn’t look good. Not at all! What do you think happened?”
Angel was too busy trying to hoist open the window to respond, but the latch had been snapped off. In fact, all of the windows werepurposefully sealed shut, turning Fluttershy’s cottage into a noxious sewerysweat lodge.
Both Fluttershy and Angel gasped at a low, grumbling sound coming from off in the forest. A bit like a warped foghorn, it continued for several seconds before suddenly ceasing and leaving an echo in its wake. If that was the roar of a beast, it was unlike any creature Fluttershy had ever encountered before.
“I have to go and investigate! I just have to! And I know it’s going to be very, very scary, but I can’t sit idly by with all of my precious little animal friends in grave danger!”
While Angel wasn’t as foolhardy as Fluttershy, and would just as easily have found a nice table to cower under until the threat had passed, any excuse to get out of the malodorous cottage was welcome.
And so Fluttershy, with Angel hitching a ride on her back, dashed out of the cottage and into the periphery of the Everfree forest.
As they wandered farther and farther in, there were clear signs pointing them closer to the source of all this devastation. For starters, the trees had been stripped bare of their leaves, and left smoldering. Clusters of birds lay belly up in the dirt, stone dead. While Fluttershy wanted to pause to inspect them, she knew there wasn’t time to waste.
They found Gilda in a little clearing of her own making, crouched down and surrounded by many of Fluttershy’s animal friends. All of them were turning about on the floor, hacking up their lungs and streaming tears. The smell from earlier was stronger now. Much, much stronger. Fluttershy almost passed out after gasping in a big lungful of the horrible airborne filth, holding her wing over her nostrils just to survive. Worst of all, Gilda seemed to be eating something. Gnashing away, chewing and swallowing. It all clicked together and suddenly Fluttershy caught on to where the atrocious smell had come from.
“Gilda!”
The griffon turned with a raised brow. The moment she saw Fluttershy, a thin smile crawled into place on her beak.
“Thank Celestia’s gaping cunt you’re here, Butt ershy! I think this little guy’s at the end of his tether…”
She stood up big and tall, and reached a talon back into her wide asscrack to peel out a poor sweat-soaked bunny. Giving it a sniff and retching at the sorry state of it, she cast the provisional jockstrap aside, leaving it wheezing and facedown in the dirt.
“Where do you get off talking to ponies like that?”
“Right here!” Gilda announced, and in only a matter of seconds, she had fingered her drooling cuntlips, huffed in a deep breath of her own rancid odors, and squirted Angel in a thick waterfall of sticky feminine juices. He slipped about, spitting out Gilda’s cum while trying not to vomit.
There was only so much Fluttershy could take before blowing her fuse.
“Now, l-listen here, you big mean bully! I don’t want to speak out of place, but you’ve simply got to go! You’ve completely disrupted the local ecosystem with your… your-”
“Go ahead. Say it. I wanna hear that dirty little word coming outta your sweet little lips!” Gilda burst forth and stroked her wet, cum-slickened claw along Fluttershy’s muzzle, “If you do, I might reconsider razing your cottage to the ground.”
Not that word… anything but that. Fluttershy couldn’t even imagine doing something as inappropriate as passing gas, let alone talking about it.
“Your fa…”
“What was that? Didn’t hear you there.”
“Your farts, okay? Your awful, horrible farts ! And might I just add that you should really rethink your diet, because it is not at all natural for them to smell like that!”
“Whoof! You should talk dirty to me more often, Fluttershy, you’re a real pro at it!” Gilda punctuated this point by slipping her jizz-soaked digit into Fluttershy’s lips, then stalked back to her little spot in the middle of the clearing.
“But if you wanna critisize my rank farts, you only have yourself to blame!” As she said this, she raised up her other claw, letting Fluttershy get a good look at what she had been nibbling on this entire time.
A big meaty drumstick, trickling grease all down Gilda’s arm. Fluttershy stared at it for a few moments. She knew that griffons ate meat, of course, and that likely explained the intensity of the stench. But there was a horrible gnawing feeling in her stomach. Why would Gilda be smirking at her like that? Unless of course she had taken that drumstick from…
“Oh my gosh. You… Don’t tell me you…”
“See for yourself!” She stepped aside to reveal a small fire that had died down into embers, and skewered above it, rotating slowly around and around and cooking, was none other than Elizabeak, half of her limbs torn away from her charred body.
Fluttershy collapsed into the dirt and sobbed, mucus and tears mingling over her face as she wept out loud.
“Oh, you ponies! Such drama queens! Frankly I’m offended you were raising such delicious animals and not even thinking about roasting them up with a little rosemary and thyme yourself!”
The wave of shock and sadness passed. Fluttershy now only felt anger and hatred. She started to snort and huff, getting angrier and angrier, turning her targeted glare up to Gilda before charging full pelt.
“Nobody… hurts… my… animal friends!”
But her moment of heroism was short lived. Gilda grabbed her by the wings and held her up in the air, laughing and spitting chunks of chicken in her face.
“Okay, that was pretty cute, I admit!”
“Let me go! Leave my animal friends alone! What have I ever done to you?”
“What have you done to me? Well I decided to eat up all that pet food of yours, even all of the slop outta the pig pen, and I’m starting to think you’re not feeding your animals very well!” She pressed Fluttershy down into her taut belly, letting her hear the nightmare that was churning up inside.
And then, still holding Fluttershy against her bloated belly so she could hear it rushing out, Gilda cocked up her leg and pumped out a bough-rattling burst of wet, beefy flatus. A few more birds plummeted out of the sky.
Fluttershy struggled, trying to push herself away from Gilda, or simply cover her nostrils, but it was no use. Within just a few seconds, a fresh, broiling wave of miasma washed over her, making her dry heave. It was truly the most abominable thing she had ever smelled in her life. It was like rotting meat, lumpy milk and raw skunk oil all mixed together and left to turn sour. If Fluttershy had been given the chance to eat her lunch, she would have lost it there and then.
“See? Pretty ripe, ain’t it?”
“Please…” Fluttershy coughed.
“Y’know what? I’m actually feeling a little generous. I’m gonna let you go, if you do something for me.”
“What…?”
“Fart. Right now. I wanna hear it!”
Fluttershy eeped and blushed.
“But… I don’t really need to right now.”
“What a lame excuse! I’m sure you have a little peep in that nice soft belly of yours!” Gilda brushed her claw up and down that nice soft belly, before gripping it tightly and trying to force something out.
“Ouch! S-Stop, you’re hurting me!”
But Gilda only squeezed harder, lifting Fluttershy up so that her pert little bottom was pressed up to her ear. She shook the distraught pegasus around like a can of spray paint, now using both hands to knead her belly, practically wringing her out like an empty tube of ointment.
“C’mon! Push! Push!”
“No! I don’t want to, I-”
prt
She threw Fluttershy down into the ground, sniffing loudly to try and suck up whatever meagre scent there was to Fluttershy’s whisper of a release. Only a light smell of digested carrot juice and cauliflower, nothing impressive.
“See! You lied to me, you did have something in there!”
Fluttershy nursed her aching stomach with her hooves. Even if she saw an opportunity to escape, Gilda would outrun or outfly her easily.
“But that was pretty pathetic. I think we can get you do do much better!”
“Wh-What? You said you would let me go if I-”
“I’m gonna help you! I’m sure you’re a pro farter really, you just need a little gas in the tank!”
Fluttershy trembled at the sound of Gilda stomping closer. Her view of burned-out treetops was swiftly replaced by fat, furry bird butt, and then darkness.
Gilda swivelled her hips. She had to admit, even though these ponies were useless at just about everything else, their faces made for very comfortable seatcushions. Great for soaking up her raucous…
BRRRRRT
“Whoops! Heh. Sorry, Flutterbutt, that one slipped out, honest!”
The smell was already unbearable from a mile away, and even worse a few feet away, but flushed out directly into Fluttershy’s face? It was torture.
Her limbs and wings flapped about, aggressively trying to pull away. She didn’t just shout into Gilda’s ass, she screamed .
“Whoa there!” Gilda held Fluttershy in place as the spasms slowly died down. With a smile on her face, she forced out another short, silent fart and sure enough the violent thrashing immediately returned. Her guts were really brewing up something gnarly today.
“Sheesh! Calm down, would ya? I’m trying to help you out here!” Gilda’s butt momentarily raised. Fluttershy sucked in a deep, desperate gasp. Her eyes were bloodshot.
“Gilda! Please! Please! Don’t fart on me again, I’m going to die! Please just take whatever you want! Do whatever you want to me, but no more gas! I’m begging you!”
The griffon rolled her eyes and cocked her brow. This histrionic little slut sure gave herself over easy.
“Open your mouth.”
“Oh, Gilda! Please! I’ll do anything, jus-”
“Your mouth! Open it!”
Fluttershy froze in shock for a few moments, before taking one look at Gilda’s asshole and complying.
“Wider. Stick out that cute little tongue of yours for me!”
When her mouth was opened wide enough for Gilda to see the back of her throat, she slammed back down, using precision to ensure that her steaming birdhole was perfectly flush with Fluttershy’s open maw.
With the deadliest weapon she had ever encountered resting on her tongue, Fluttershy’s violent, twisting movements increased tenfold. She screamed, bawled and sobbed, and continued to do so until a short burst of gas shut her up.
And that short burst was followed up by a longer one, then a longer one, each one upping the length and wetness until Gilda was pumping Fluttershy full with one single, uninterrupted flow.
Gilda’s muffled flatulence continued for a long, long time. She only paused to take breaths and wipe the sweat of exertion from her brow. Fluttershy had started out sobbing and squirming, but over time her protests and efforts died down. After a certain point, she simply laid there and accepted her fate. Gilda’s gas poured over her tongue and down her esophagus, some even backing up into her nostrils. She was little more than a filter for the beast’s cruel effluence, and all she could do was hope it would end sometime today.
Between the griffon’s legs, Fluttershy’s belly gradually grew larger and larger, at first making it look like Fluttershy had just enjoyed a huge meal, and eventually like she was pregnant with several foals.
Gilda couldn’t help but notice this. It was something to be proud of, really—she was gravid with so much rancid stink that she could fill a pony up to bursting point and still have loads left for herself.
The larger it got, the more Fluttershy’s stomach gurgled. A few moans and sobs were felt below Gilda’s ass, this time not just from the agony of having such a lengthy fart forced down her gullet, but from the pains of her stomach expanding to its limits.
“Ahh!” Gilda finally, finally stood. Looking back, she found Fluttershy murmuring, dried tears staining her cheeks and fresh ones pooling in her eyes. It looked like a hot iron had been pressed into her face.
“Ouuughhh…” Fluttershy clutched her growling dirigible of a belly. She opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a long, wavering belch.
“Ha! You can say that again!”
She then farted, several sloppy bursts spewing from her. All of Gilda’s putrid fumes rumbled through her tight pony pucker, not sounding as threatening as with their original owner but certainly smelling as deadly.
“There! Now you’ve got some real gas to play with! No need to thank me, you’re quite welcome!”
Before leaving Fluttershy to deflate, Gilda rolled her over onto her nice round belly. She then waltzed off towards town, the sounds of Fluttershy’s uncontrollable flatulence ringing around the entire forest behind her.
Rainbow Dash’s morning nap had been interrupted several times, by persistent waves of strange, reverberating noise. In her sleepy state she had dismissed the din as an out-of-practice brass band proceeding through the town, but now it sounded closer to the calls of a wounded animal.
Giving up her efforts to catch a few more Z’s, Rainbow Dash left the comfort of her cloud to find the cause of this disruption.
Things looked okay at first glance. Quite normal, in fact. That was until the treetops started to quiver, and that same lowing, droning sound flushed across the horizon. This time it was even closer.
“Whoever’s making all that noise, I’m gonna find you!” She hollered across the outskirts of the town, “Nopony stops Rainbow Dash from napping!”
“How about a griffon?”
Dashie whipped around to find Gilda lounged on a cloud, picking out little cottony clumps with her claw and flicking them away.
“G! Wh-When’d you get back in town?”
“Oh, just today. Sorry for not stopping by, Dash, I’ve been real busy.”
“Busy, huh?” Rainbow Dash, quite sceptical of her old flight school buddy, settled back onto her nap cloud, but not before nudging it several feet away. She could hardly forget the bitter taste left in her mouth after Gilda’s last visit.
“Busy as a bee! I paid a few of your friends a visit!”
“Alright, Gilda, cut the cowdung, what are you doing here? If you even laid a single talon on my friends I’ll-”
“You’ll what? Attack me with friendship? Strike me down with love and understanding? Face it, Dash, you’re a softie now! All you dweeby ponies are! All you care about is picking flowers, and holding hooves and singing your little songs… it’s disgusting!”
Speaking of disgusting, Rainbow Dash had now caught on to the griffon’sheavy body odor. She didn’t exactly smell fresh on the best of days, but this was something far worse than even her nose was accustomed to. It were as if Gilda had been using garbage bags as deodorant and skunk spray as perfume. Her snout crinkled at the offending stench.
“Eugh! Gilda, you reek! Now I’m all for natural scents and all, but it feels like the back of my throat is bleeding… sweet Celestia!”
At this, Gilda simply lifted her claw behind her head.
“Oh, that? It’s my new fragrance. Y’like it?”
“It’s rancid! You been hanging out with Diamond Dogs or somethin’?”
“Naw, Dash, this is all me! You don’t remember junior speedsters? Our little contests? Don’t tell me you forgot about the contests!”
Now she remembered. Her and Gilda, the least ladylike ladies in that camp, would hold exclusiev tournaments between just the two of them: Who could go longest without washing, who could muster up the longer belch… their fart contests garnered infamy around the camp.
But even back then, when Gilda had triumphed over her instewing up the foulest body odor and taken her winnings in the form of forcing Dash into a headlock, she never smelled this bad. This was something downright unnatural. Simply to keep herself from passing out, Rainbow Dash sent the miserable funk back where it came from with a few flaps of her wings.
“Of course I remember, but it was never this raunchy…”
“Well of course not, dummy. We were kids. Now I’m all grown up and my ripe, juicy wingpits have grown up with me!”
Rainbow Dash shuddered as a long-forgotten memory rushed back to her. Gilda’s wingpits. The absolute bane of her existence for many weeks of flight camp. The horrifying smell of those things had scarred her so deeply that she could lucidly recall it now. Gilda used her wings as a threat back in those days, and it always worked. Dash would gladly give up her extra pillow instead of facing Gilda’s dripping, heady wingstink. The idea that they could smell even worse now… she winced at the thought, and Gilda took notice.
“Struck a nerve? What’s the matter? You used to looooove the smell of my dirty wings! Remember? You’d tuck in there nice and easy, I’d have you slurping up wing drippings for hours!”
“Yeah, yeah, I remember, but you don’t scare me, Gilda.”
“I don’t?”
“No! It’s true that your body reek always won, it’s true that your wingpits smelled worse than my morning dumps, but there was one thing I always beat you at!”
“Oh, that’s right! Ripping flank.”
“You got it! My patootie had the meanest bark and the ugliest bite in that entire camp, still does!” Rainbow Dash spun around and tauntingly wobbled her perky butt.
“And I bet that all these years later, I could still out-toot you even in my sleep!”
“Interesting wager. What happens to the loser?”
“Same rules as the old days, G. Loser becomes the winner’s wing-warmer for an entire afternoon.”
“Afternoon? This ain’t baby camp no more, Dash. I say we make it more interesting. Loser has to serve the winner’s wings for the rest of their pitiful life.”
Gilda flashed a wide, silvery grin.
Even with all of Rainbow’s bravado and confidence, that comment still made her blood run cold. Living and breathing Gilda’s noxious underwings for the rest of her life… for however long that ended up being. It was a terrifying prospect, but she had faith in herself, and in her ability to let loose some vicious farts. After all, just last month she had trumped both Big Macintosh and Soarin in the same evening running only on a carton of expired milk. She already had a few bad ones bubbling up this morning after a late night pizza feast. This would be easy as pie.
“Alright, you’re on!” Dash hawked and spat into her hoof, offering it to the griffon.
Instead of responding with just saliva though, Gilda went one better and suckled all the way back into her throat, hacking up a fat, glistening yellow loogie onto her claw.
The slimy appendages met with a splash and with that, the tourney began.
“Aww yeah! Time to make some clouds!” Rainbow Dash rubbed her stomach to warm up.
“I’ll let you go first, give you a sporting chance.” Gilda smirked.
“I call this one the hurricane shriek!”
Back in the day Rainbow’s “special moves” were the hallmark of every fart-off, and even if she was now older she’d never stopped perfecting the classics and inventing some new ones.Rainbow assumed position. Her toned cheeks flexed, facing Gilda, and her tail began to whirl around and around, acting as a makeshift fan that would send her awful protein farts directly into the griffon’s awaiting nostrils.
“Three… Two… One!”
Rainbow grunted and her ass erupted with a loud, popping fart. The more she pushed, the higher the pitch grew, until it was squealing through her tight balloon knot at supersonic speed. With her tail forming a cyclone, the hot miasma funnelled into Gilda’s face, and smelled truly abhorrent. Even for a being as disgusting as Gilda, it was difficult to choke down. Rainbow’s fart both sounded and stunk like burning out car tyres, with a hint of rotten eggs.
After it reached a high note and screeched to a halt, Rainbow left off by fanning her wings back at Gilda just for good measure.
The smell was awful. Gilda couldn’t deny it, but it was still rosewater compared to what she was cooking up.
“Had enough already? They’re only gonna get worse from here on out!”
“That was a pretty strong start, but you’re gonna have to do way better than that if you wanna beat me!”
In the blink of an eye, Gilda’s fat ass was turned towards her opponent. If she really wanted to, she could quite easily knock Rainbow Dash off her cloud like a coconut shy and leave her grounded for life. But where was the fun in that? She could at least give her old buddy the illusion of success.
“This is one I’ve been working on. I like to call it the earthquake from above! Better find something to hold on to!”
Gilda braced her cheeks extra hard, tensioning the soft doughy fat into two hard slabs of amplifying meat.
Rainbow Dash barely had time to take cover before Gilda unleashed her anal explosion. Thefoul winds came thundering from her ass as loud as the real thing. Rainbow Dash covered her ears just to protect her hearing, and after ten long, rumbling seconds of the entire sky shaking and stirring, she could actually hear them ringing.
“Whoa.”
“Ahh! Sniff it and weep, Rainbow Crash!”
Fortunately Rainbow was far away enough that most of the stench dispersed before it reached her nostrils, but that didn’t make it any less torturous when it did.
“Awwww! Sick , Gilda! That smells like somepony took Applejack’s fertilizer and left it to marinade in a septic tank! What the hay have you been eating, girl?”
“That’s my secret recipe, Dash. Afraid I can’t tell you.” She gave her hefty belly a trusty pat with her claw and burped. Gilda knew of course that Rainbow was choking down partly the remnants of Fluttershy’s little animal friends, partly the broken down result of gallons of Applejack’s cider, and partly the poorly-combined outcome of inhaling Pinkie’s sugary treats. She was suffocating in a cloud of her own friends’ culinary efforts. That thought alone made Gilda a little wet between the haunches.
“Alright, alright, my turn! And this one’sbrutal!”
To Gilda’s surprise, Rainbow Dash floated towards her. A bold move, for sure.
“I like to call this baby the blowtorch! Better get a good whiff of my ass now, ‘cos by the time I’m through you won’t be smelling anything for weeks!”
With this, Rainbow turned swiftly and bumped her butt into Gilda’s face. Her cheeks were lean, and perfectly toned. Every time her glutes flexed, theylocked Gilda’s beak into a vice-like grip between them.
The natural state of Rainbow’s flanks was tame compared to Gilda’s swampy ass, but still quite strong and slick with musky, oniony sweat. Her asshole in particular was smelling absolutely rotten with fresh moisture. It was clear that her day had begun with a rigorous morning flight across town and no shower to follow up.
Gilda didn’t have long to take that in, though.
Rainbow Dash’s tight asshole tapped her beak, curling outwards, before puckering back in. This continued a few times, as if the pegasus were trying to force it into just the right embouchure.
Then, all of a sudden, a sharp, directed rush of whistling wind burst forth from Rainbow’s puckered hole, and it didn’t take long for Gilda to find out what gave this manoeuver its name. It was hot. Not just hot, it was burning the inside of her nostrils . She gasped in surprise, only filling her lungs with more raw sulfur. Rainbow Dash gave a feminine grunt and spread her cheeks wide, angling her ass up and down, her silent needle of flatulence drawing all over Gilda’s face, puffing and spewing its unbearable paint-peeling scent.
“Hnng… feel the burn ?”
Gilda retched.
Luna above, she actually retched . She scolded herself mentally for even allowing such a thing to happen. Her, the queen of disgusting and duchess of deplorable had actually dry heaved on the hot, festering smell of a pony’s fart. Not a griffon’s fart, nor a dragon’s, but a pony ! It was just that bad. And not only were the sizzling heat and appalling smell impressive, so too was the length. It just kept going and going, not making a sound but still causing so much aromatic destruction. A thick cloud of it was now suspended around Gilda’s wrinkled face. She lurched forward and retched again, this one coming from deep in her gullet.
“Ooh! That was a g- huuurgh! -good one, Gilda! If I… mmmnnh! Make you hurl I win by default! ”
What made Gilda most furious wasn’t Rainbow Dash’s cockiness, it was the fact that the smell of her fart was seriously getting to her. Her eyes were stinging with tears. In that moment she almost put aside her pride and waved the white flag. She wasn’t sure for how much longer this thing would continue to sear her nostrils, and wasn’t sure for how much longer she could take it.
A few moments later it finally finished with a little plosive popping sound, followed by a squelch. Rainbow Dash slunk forward in relief, rubbing her slimy stinkhole against Gilda’s beak as the final spiteful cherry on top.
Rolling back onto her cloud, she peered back through heavy, lidded eyes and took a few sniffs of her own foul creation.
“Mmm-mm! Niiiice and eggy! Just try not to pass out there, G, wouldn’t want you falling outta the sky!”
But Gilda barely even heard what Rainbow Dash had to say. The anger was boiling up inside her. This little punk was going to get it; every ounce of fury she had. She had gone easy on her before, partly out of respect for an old pal, but over the course of that long, brain-melting fart to the face, Gilda’s respect for Rainbow had dwindled into nothing. Her one and only objective now was putting her in her place.
It was Gilda’s turn next and this would be the final rung of their trifling little contest. The scowl on her face slowly dimmed, and a wide smile replaced it. She didn’t even introduce this next fart. She didn’t need to. Instead, she was going to show it.
Gilda was on Rainbow Dash faster than she could react, her fat furry ass crammed into her face.
Rainbow Dash jolted at the initial shock of having four hundred pounds of rank-smelling griffon tush poured over her body, the smell of sweat and unwiped shit alone made her yawp in terror, but jolt was about all she could do from this compromising position. It wasn’t just a case of not being able to move, such pressure bore down onto Rainbow that she couldn’t even feel her limbs.
And then, showing absolutely no mercy, Gilda let all hell break loose directly into her ex-friend’s face.
In Appleloosa, the residents paused their hoedown to listen to the strange eruptive sound in the sky. In Canterlot, Princess Celestia listened in fear at what sounded like the heavens ripping asunder.
Down in Ponyville, every single citizen was shaken by the explosion above them. Windows smashed, flowers shrivelled into mush. Gilda’s atomic toot spread its apocalyptic damage to every house and field across the entire town. Those who were brave or stupid enough to not gallop away looked up at the sky, and a foggy, jungle-green cloud of miasmic filth hung in Cloudsdale’s place.
Rainbow Dash was somehow still alive after suffering the full, unrelenting force of Gilda’s backdraft, but when the pressure finally lifted and Gilda turned back to laugh at her victim, she sure wished she wasn’t.
Everything was dizzy and spinning. Like she was drunk, but without the warm fuzzy feeling. Rainbow Dash had been defeated by one single fart. All she could smell was rotten meat and blistered sugar. All the power of that fart had squirted out something more than just air. Rainbow Dash’s coat was speckled with chunks of syrupy stool. She reeked worse than the Sweet Apple Acres outhouse after chilli night. She was filth incarnate.
“Pee yew, RD! You fuckin’ stink!” Gilda pinched her beak and waved her claw in front of it for theatrical effect.
Rainbow wasn’t even angry anymore, she just looked up at Gilda’s face in stunned, wide-eyed silence.
“Now I don’t need to tell you that I win. I think that’s pretty obvious, but I’ve decided to make an itsy bitsy adjustment to the conditions my prize. You don’t mind, right?”
Rainbow Dash turned her head to one side and vomited.
“Didn’t think so! I figured that being my wingslut would be fun and all, but seeing as your snout now belongs to me, I’d put it where I really need some maintenance. Given the way you smell right now, you should fit right in!”
She presented her ass to the shellshocked pegasus, still warm and steaming with heat after that last release. And without hearing even a squeak of protest, Gilda sat right back down onto Rainbow Dash, this time wedging her snoutall the way into the cavernous depths of her ass.
“You feel that juicy birdhole back there? Well, I want you to give it a big sloppy kiss and say hello, because that’s your new mistress, Dashie! Anything that comes out of it, liquid, solid, or gas, goes right into your hungry lips! You serve my asshole now, and I won’t have you dweebing things up and disrespecting it, so be polite!”
Silence.
“I said be polite! Give it a kiss and say I’m honored to serve you, mistress !”
Gilda paused for a couple seconds, and then sure enough she felt Rainbow Dash kissing her anus and repeating her verbatim, her voice muffled and shaky.
“Good girl! Now, I’m gonna go find that purple nerd you used to call a friend and fart her into next week. I don’t want your face leaving my sweet cheeks unless I give you the say so, okay?”
“Yes, mistress.”
Gilda squirted out a wet fart into Rainbow’s face, and her newly-crowned butt bitch demonstrated her element by huffing it down like it was oxygen.
Gilda made good use of her new ass slave on her leisurely glide down into Ponyville. She made Rainbow Dash suck down several more fermented farts and even managed to squeeze in two separate orgasms, inspired by nothing more than the swift, dutiful motions of Dashie’s eager tongue.
She descended into the town square in a cloak of her own cloudy stink, Rainbow Dash still buried up to her jaw in her fat furry orbs.
Twilight held her ground. The tidal wave caused by Gilda’s nuclear fart had certainly agitated the unicorn, but not deterred her.
“Gilda! I should’ve known you’d be behind this!”
“Yeah yeah yeah, but I bet you didn’t expect Rainbow Dash to be behind me!”
“Let her go.”
“You kidding? Dashie here is just getting broken in! You don’t wanna leave your mistress, do you?” She called back.
“Of course not, mistress. I live to serve you, mistress.” Rainbow Dash’s muffled praise was promptly followed by a loving kiss, dispatched directly onto her stinking starfish.
“Get her, Twilight! Turn her into feather and mush!” Spike jeered on from the sidelines, but quickly regretted his enthusiasm when Gilda turned her gaze his way. She advanced on the measly dragon, despite Twilight shooting off every spell under the sun and finding all of them did little more than tickle the unstoppable beast.
“Tw-Twilight! She’s gonna-!”
Gilda stooped down to Spike’s level and boiled the scrawny little coldblood alive in a thick, growling burp. His scales smoking, he twirled around in a woozy circle before collapsing onto his back, comatose from the smell of Gilda’s stomach.
“You won’t get away with this, Gilda.”
“Oh no? Well, let’s see… I gave your friend Rarity a makeover, drowned Applejack in her own cider, baked Pinkie Pie into one big chocolate brownie, turned Fluttershy into a parade float, and Rainbow Dash here?”
A muffled, muddy fart sounded into Dashie’s face. Twilight cringed at the disgusting noise and the enthusiasm with which the pegasus sniffed it up.
“I completely rewired her! Now she’s never gonna leave my side! My backside that is! I even knocked your little dragon assistant out for the count by letting him taste my lunch, so that leaves just you. Twilight Sparkle. All alone without her friends!”
“Th-There’s still the princesses! Celestia will-!”
“Oh, I almost forgot about her royal snootiness Celestia! She’s nice and white, I bet she’d make a great toilet. And that sister of hers? She’ll wish she stayed put on the moon when she gets one whiff of me.”
Twilight tried again to retort and faltered. It really was starting to look like Gilda would come out of this duel victorious. Twilight didn’t even want to think about the extent of this brutish griffon’s ruination. Would she fart Ponyville into an uninhabitable smog and be done there, or would her destruction reach far beyond the quaint little hamlet? Would Gilda not rest until every living creature in Equestria had replaced oxygen with her methane? Twilight wilted at the thought, but suddenly remembered something.
A bit of a reach for sure, but it could be her only hope in this otherwise hopeless situation.
Twilight recalled in that moment a spell, one which she had translated from Starswirl the bearded’s ancient tomes. It hadn’t even been deciphered from old Ponish before she got her hooves on it, and certainly never attempted outside of theory. A shrinking spell; one that could feasibly work on ponies and presumably griffons too. She wasn’t sure if her magical ability was up to snuff, but what else could she do at this point aside from watch her home town crumble around her?
While Twilight was trying to remember the order of the spell, Gilda was taking a few moments to enjoy a rimjob from Rainbow Dash, one worthy of her new status as queen bitch. She even slipped a few soggy farts into Dashie’s lips and was pleasantly surprised when the pegasus gulped them down without question. She still thrashed around a bit when forced to ingest a particularly fetid one, but even the bad ones were sniffed up and followed by a series of appreciative kisses. Who knew Rainbow Dash was born to huff ass? Gilda wouldn’t be surprised if one day soon she saw Rainbow’s cutie mark vanish and a likeness of her fat tush form in its place.
Twilight lowered her head, her horn directed at Gilda. She began to focus, trying desperately to block out the sounds and smells exuding from her, as well as all the stress and desperation welling up inside. She knew she could do it. In this moment, she envisioned Celestia by her side, laying a hoof upon her withers and words of encouragement into her ear. She could do this !
Twilight’s horn pulsed and started to thrum, a field of magic building up around it and gradually growing brighter and more explosive.
Gilda ripped a hot mist down Rainbow Dash’s hungry throat and cocked a brow at Twilight’s antics. All she could do at the cute display was smirk.
Twilight’s hooves dug divots into the ground as she grunted and sweat dripped from her brow. A quick toot even slipped through her cheeks from all the strain, but she was too focused to even acknowledge it.
And, unfortunately for her, also too focused to notice Gilda giving her pet a quick break from her duties to turn her lethal weapon of an ass towards Twilight.
“Smell ya later, you toffee-nosed dork.” Gilda said with a smirk, and blew a beefy rip into Twilight’s face.
The unicorn was enveloped in a dense cloud of raw stink, her mane blowing back in the breeze. With a gasp she upturned her head, but it was too late. Her horn fired off a sharp bolt of magic, catching Gilda squarely in the face. Twilight tumbled back in a fit of coughs and gags, clearing the water from her eyes to see if her spell had worked.
Gilda was still her normal size, but something was clearly wrong. She looked all over her body, which was buzzing with magic.
“What did you do?” She marched over and unloaded a beastly belch into Twilight’s face.
“What did you do to me, you bitch!? Tell me or I’ll have you breathing my gas until you fucking choke on it!”
Twilight herself wasn’t too sure. The shock of Gilda’s direct stink bomb to the face had thrown her off balance, and almost certainly affected the intentioned spell.
Then, it started to happen. Gilda grew taller. A couple inches at first, barely noticeable, but then she continued to sprout up until her head was level with the first floor of Twilight’s tree home.
“Oh, no…” Twilight could only watch in defeat as yard after yard piled on to the griffon’s height, she was now tall enough to peek into the upper windows of every house, then taller than the chimneys, then so tall that her body cast a thick black shadow over the plaza.
At first Gilda was quite surprised with her rapid growth. She looked down at her feathers magnifying and fanning out, her body heightening and bulking up, glanced back at her broadening ass, and eventually she just smiled.
When her expansion slowing to a halt she stood tall over Ponyville, squinting just to see the devastated look on Twilight Sparkle’s face.
“Wow. Gotta hand it to ya, Twi. I really didn’t think this day could get any better, but thanks to you it just did!”
For starters, Gilda flattened a few houses under her paws, it was amazing how easy it was to reduce the buildings and their residents to rubble and mess. Didn’t even hurt. Felt like stepping on little cardboard boxes. She uprooted Twilight’s tree home and used the leaves as a body brush, humming to herself as she scrubbed her legpits and wingpits, killing off every patch of green.
Then came the farts, which put her earlier sky-trembling ripper to shame. Every one caused a mini earthquake to coarse through the ground beneath her, levelling buildings and monuments in the process. It turned out that the spell had massively increased the quantity of her farts along with her body mass.
The streets of Ponyville were drowned in thick, unrelenting fog. Most of the citizens died after taking one whiff, and those that didn’t spent their final moments in absolute agony coughing up Gilda’s meaty pestilence.
Gilda finished Ponyville off by sending her fat ass hurtling down to the ground like a meteor, aiming for Twilight Sparkle and successfully managing to lodge her deep inside.
She then released her deadliest fart yet, one foul and powerful enough to literally form canyons in the earth. The smell of this one was so bad that even she, with her head up above the clouds, found it hard to stomach.
When Gilda stood, after fifteen minutes of nonstop flatulence, there was a stinking ass-shaped crater where Ponyville once resided. A few remnants of buildings stuck to her ass, which she shook off by twerking her bouncy butt high above the ruins of the town, a final taunt to anypony who might still be breathing down there (though she knew that was impossible).
With Ponyville destroyed and its ruins forever tainted by her bowels, Gilda set off towards more destruction. Canterlot would fall, of course, but she would save that one for last. Her plan to swallow the castle tower up into her rectum would make for a wonderful grand finale. There was still much to do, and many places to eviscerate.
Today was going to be a good day.
