“At this point we are obligated to remind you once again that the Empire waives any responsibility for accidents that may occur during the engagement.”
A groan. “Yes, I’m aware, this is like the fifth time you’ve told me.”
A hand adjusted the glasses of the head that was speaking to her. The other head was looking down at the piles of papers that were scattered over the desk between them and poring over the lines of text upon them. “Six times, actually. Seven if you count when you came here last week to pick up the forms and you were given the warning up front. We’d think that by now you’d understand that this is something we have to take with the utmost severity.”
“Come on!” Passion Fruit whined, drawing out the syllable for as long as her lungs would allow, like a petulant foal. “I just want somepony to rut me, why does there have to be all this red tape for it? I could have gone out on the streets and cleared a dozen more names from the List in the time we’ve just been talking!”
“It’s quite the list…” the left head muttered absentmindedly, glancing toward a scroll that extended off the edge of the table, numerous names scrawled in small print along its length, some of which had been crossed out.
“Miss Fruit, we’d hoped that by now it would be abundantly clear that the Empress is not just ‘somepony,’” Binary Brush said sternly, the right head’s unwavering gaze focused upon the mare on the other side of the desk. “While she is very much open to engagements with other ponies, the simple fact of the matter is that it is not possible to do so on a moment’s notice, especially for one who desires to be on the receiving end of penetration.”
Passion Fruit grumbled incoherent fragments of obscenities under her breath as she slumped back into her chair. Her pale-yellow frame seemed to sag and melt like a statue made of butter in the sunlight, dark purple mane wilting around the sides of her face. Her arms appeared to disappear when she crossed them underneath the great globes of her bosom, huge mounds that obscured her torso and lap and spilled over the rests of the chair she was sitting in. She didn’t even have the energy to massage the plum-colored shaft that jutted out from between them. She hadn’t bothered to wear any clothes, given that she expected to spend a significant amount of time disrobed while going about crossing off names on the List. Considering that most of her days were taken up with crossing off names on the List, it wasn’t often that Passion Fruit ever wore clothes.
The pony—or ponies—on the other side of the desk were considerably more formal. Binary Brush wore the most mundane beige jacket imaginable over their torso, even if the neckline was drawn low enough to show a generous view of twofold cleavage from their three watermelon-sized red-orange breasts. Both heads bore short, neat manes of black that glistened like ink, the right head’s hair tied up into a bun, plump lips painted with burgundy gloss, sharp eyes staring from behind horn-rimmed spectacles, because of course they were horn-rimmed. Even when the Crystal Empire saturated with lust and excess, even when it spread its influence across Equestria, bureaucracy still managed to rein supreme.
“We can assure you, we’re just as eager to get you on your way so you can be out of our hair,” the left, slightly more masculine head then said.
“I’m going to have to come back to get tangled up in your hair sometime to check you off on the List, you know,” Passion Fruit replied with a smirk, waggling her eyebrows. “I’ll need to make sure I sample both sides, you know.”
Both of Binary Brush’s heads scoffed in unison. “Wait until you’ve managed to walk this one off before you think about getting into our skirt.” They then gathered up the papers on the desk into one neat stack, a third hand reaching to grab a stamp which planted down on the top as soon as they were all in a pile, the seal reading “C.U.M.B.A.T.H. APPROVED” in bright red, and a fourth started to roll up the trailing scroll of names. “Well that’s all the fair warning we’re required to offer to you. Are you really certain that you want to have this with you when you go in there?”
“Of course, I want to mark it off while I’m basking in the afterglow, so I don’t forget,” the yellow earth pony replied, exhaustedly, suggesting this was far from the first time she had given this explanation herself, as she took the scroll and put it into the only article she had on her, a small purse slung from her shoulder.
“There’s a significantly greater than zero chance that it could get damaged in the ensuing mess,” Binary Brush asserted, threatening to bring out the most dangerous of weapons: probability.
“Oh, it’s fine, it happens sometimes,” Passion Fruit snorted and laughed dismissively, “it just means I have to write it down again, and if I miss something then I have to go back for another sampling. You know, to make sure.”
The two heads looked toward each other. Eyes rolled.
“Alright, so we’re done here, then?” she asked, barely withholding her continued impatience, as she stood. She was relieved to be out of that chair, not just because of what it represented, this gridlock keeping her in place, but also for how much it had been squeezing her ass, the broad buttocks and hips wobbling like gelatin as they were freed, mounds about as large as her breasts.
“Yes, if that’s how you want to look at it,” Binary Brush replied with a double sigh as they also made the laborious effort of standing. Even with a chair that was presumably more properly suited to their girth they still had similar difficulty. Underneath the chest, their anatomy became even more complicated. Two guts pressed through the fabric of their jacket, and from the skirt emerged three thick legs and two bulging groins. The right side bore an immensely distended vulva, nether lips gaping at the air, while the left had testicles that hung past their legs and a dark shaft that might as well have been a fourth leg. “We’ll show you to the Empress’ chambers so you don’t get sidetracked.”
Passion Fruit would have liked to insist that such a thing wasn’t likely to happen but walking behind Binary Brush quickly proved to test her mettle. The red pony stood significantly taller than she did, which put her conjoined asses and twin tails, swaying in an awkward, curious gait as she walked with the middle leg striding forward and then the two on the sides following, roughly level with her line of sight. She felt her loins pulse eagerly, cock throbbing, balls tensing, already hungry as she wondered if she could contort herself in such a way to impale and be impaled by the pony’s two halves at the same time. But she had to be vigilant; she didn’t want to let loose prematurely when her prize was within her grasp. Just a few more minutes. For now, it would serve adequately to get her stimulated again after all that paperwork.
They left behind the spacious office and walked out into the cavernous halls of the crystalline palace. Guards stood at the ready at intermittent intervals, gargantuan mares and stallions of bodies corded with musculature, so silent and still that they were hardly much different from the statues that served as decoration, aside from the occasional telltale twitching and quivering of arousal that came when somepony walked by. Much of their uniform might as well have been simply a formality; their bodies could probably pose just as much of a threat on their own without wielding spears and halberds the size of flagpoles, and their flesh was sturdy enough that they almost didn’t even need the armor. Really their entire presence was almost unnecessary, given that the barrier meant any hostile threat shouldn’t even be able to get this far, but the Empress wasn’t one to take chances when it came to these matters, not after the first time she was caught up in an attempted invasion.
Before long they had come to a tall, particularly ornate door, decorated with sapphires carved into hearts and a pink quartz frame. Binary Brush knocked on the door and called out something that Passion Fruit scarcely even heard. The mare grinned excitedly, almost bouncing on her hooves. The flames within her were already stoked and ready, and her loins were growing moister by the second. She had to tuck her arms underneath her breasts again, to keep them lifted up slightly, otherwise they would have surrounded her cock and given her a titjob just from standing there and breathing.
“I’d advise you relish your legs before they’re taken out of commission for the next few hours,” Binary Brush said to her as they turned around and started to walk away, but she only heard bits and fragments.
“I prefer mayonnaise, thanks,” Passion Fruit murmured through a dreamy haze as she stepped forward.
A seam opened up in the door, forming a smaller doorway that parted for her to let her through. She’d hardly stepped through before her legs started trembling and she nearly dropped to her knees on the spot. The smell of musk was almost omnipresent in the Crystal Empire, unavoidable in public spaces, stronger in residences, especially bedrooms, and here it was almost overpowering. It was thick and heavy, promising the sexual juices that came with a climax, mixed with sweet perfume of some unidentifiable fragrance. It was utterly intoxicating and only served to entice her ever further, staggering the remaining steps further as she looked around herself in a daze. One might have thought it a tad mundane for a royal bedroom, not especially lavish in its decoration. It was mundane for an Empire residence as well, with not even a single toy left out in the open to tease at what the occupant got up to in their spare time. It was most extraordinary in its scale—the desk in one corner, the reading chair, the dresser, the cabinets, the bed, all of a size that dwarfed Passion Fruit.
And there she was, standing between the bed and the open doors that led out to the balcony, a ghostly veil of curtains billowing in a breeze around her: Empress Decadence.
She turned to look toward her guest, and she smirked, amethyst eyes glittering underneath her swooping tricolor mane. “Welcome, Passion Fruit,” she said coolly, her voice booming as it carried across the room.
She nearly swooned again. The Empress knew her name? It was something that overtook her for several seconds before she considered that of course she did, after how much paperwork she’d had to fill out just to get to this point. It was necessary for her to know every aspect of her prospective partner(s) in order to be prepared with the necessary inhibitors to account for any shifts. It was common knowledge that the Empress’s body changed to reflect the forms of ponies around her, as a symbolic representation of her position as their ruler, which could lead to wild combinations depending on the surroundings. Fortunately, it had turned out that Passion Fruit, a relatively ordinary pony by the Empire’s standards, wasn’t going to trigger any such changes.
But then the pink giant continued with saying, “I’ve been eagerly looking forward to your visit today.”
Passion Fruit’s eyelids fluttered and a few spurts of pre leaked from her shaft right onto the carpeted floor as she stumbled back a step. She, a simple mare, was anticipated by the Empress!
Decadence turned and began to cross the distance between them, swaying and wobbling with every step, causing the room in turn to quake and tremble, and the sheer enormity of her became increasingly apparent as the gap closed. Where Binary Brush had stood a few heads taller than Passion Fruit, the Empress was utterly gigantic, even taller than most of the guards they had passed by in the halls, and the earth pony didn’t even stand up to her waist. During public or press appearances she was usually wearing more formal, extravagant attire, flowing dresses that made a valiant effort to keep her constrained, but today (for the moment) she was wearing a plainer blouse and skirt. Superficially, the design was similar to the uniform Binary Brush had been wearing—it was a popular trend these days, loose garb that could quickly be clasped and unclasped over the front for easier access. Usually no underwear, though, that just got in the way.
It would’ve certainly taken quite a feat of tailoring, even for Decadence’s royal seamstress, to fashion any underwear that could remotely serve to contain her gratuitous lower body to begin with. Her skirt scarcely covered half of the breadth of thighs that were thicker than tree trunks and ass cheeks that could have crushed a house, great crystal heart marks stretched across her flanks. To say nothing of her stallion bits, the great mound of her testicles dragging across the floor, and yet she effortlessly pushed it ahead of her with each step, and the penis—oh, the penis, Passion Fruit hardly could have done justice to it, it alone was larger than her whole body.
Her loins were clenching in anticipation already.
The alicorn stood over her and bent over, hands on her knees, wings spread out behind her, smiling. This gesture of course provided more than ample view of her cleavage; even being the least impressive part of her figure, multiple ponies could have been lost between those pink orbs. “Hmm…” There was a thoughtful crooning in her throat as she regarded the earth pony. “I’ve been waiting to finally see you in person. Pictures aren’t really enough to get a feel for a pony.”
“O-oh, I…I-I…” she stammered, jaw trembling indecisively.
“Please, speak up.” Her chest heaved and wobbled as she chuckled. “There’s no point in being bashful when you’ve already come naked into my chambers.”
Passion Fruit steadied. She suddenly felt more conscious of the open air upon her bare skin. She did her best to keep herself still, to maintain her composure. Still, she had difficulty getting herself to speak. The object of her desires was right in front of her and yet she couldn’t make the final step.
Decadence tilted her head to one side, looking quizzically at her. “Would it perhaps ease your nerves if I disrobed as well and we got straight on with business?”
She nodded in what she hoped didn’t seem too eager of a gesture.
“Well, too bad.” The larger mare pivoted, figuratively and literally, and whirled about quickly in place. The billowing curls of her tail swung about like a flail and came to slap squarely against the side of Passion Fruit’s breast, and she yelped as her bosom rippled. “I may be open to fucking anypony who asks,” Decadence said sternly, “but that doesn’t mean you get to come in here and dictate to me what I should do.”
“F-forgive me, Empress, I d-didn’t—!” But, without turning around, Decadence sharply held up a finger, signaling Passion Fruit to cut herself short, clamping her lips shut.
“It’s been growing ever more infrequent that I have the opportunity to really speak to somepony one-on-one like this, you know,” she then said as she returned to her previous position in front of the balcony window before then leaning back onto the bed behind her. “I can see the ponies of my kingdom from here, but I can’t go down and meet them face to face. I have to worry about what will happen if I’m around too many ponies who have irregular and excessive shapes.”
Her horn flickered with a few sparks of cyan light, and the earth pony suddenly felt a push against her ass, an ephemeral hand that seemed to linger just enough to get a feel, to squeeze the pliant flesh, before vanishing, and prompting her to step forward. Decadence turned toward her, and she bore wistful expression for several seconds before she spoke again. “You met with my secretary Binary Brush, yes? Had a double serving of ass to ogle?”
“Kinda seemed like they have a stick up both of those asses,” Passion Fruit replied flatly, though it wasn’t like that would have deterred them.
Decadence snorted and laughed. “That sounds about right. And it’s exactly because of that that they avoid seeing me directly at all costs—my own secretary refuses to be in the same room as me! They don’t think it’s worth the risk of letting me experience their body.” She licked her lips. “Can you imagine me with two heads and three tits and all that extra junk?” A hand squeezed at her chest, fingers kneading deep through the outer layer of cloth she wore and into the flesh beneath. There was a pulsation along one of the veins of her exposed cock, like the beating of a heart. “I can…and that alone is enough to get me aroused.” But then she sighed and fell backward to lie on the bed. “And that’s precisely why they won’t see me, we can’t have the risk that I’ll experience a spontaneous, uncontrollable orgasm.”
Passion Fruit came up to the side of the bed. It was high enough that she could only barely see over the top of the velvety red blankets, but there were tiered ledges around the sides of the frame like steps that allowed her to climb up with slightly less difficulty. When she came to stand upon the cushy surface of the mattress, the great hills of the alicorn’s groin and bosom were still taller than her. She looked toward her, wistful again, once she came into view. “To be honest, I was a little disappointed when I saw your dossier and found that your figure didn’t have any…especially unusual features. No additional extremities, no alternative body structure, no supernatural augmentations. It meant I wouldn’t have to worry about anything out of the ordinary happening, but that would’ve just been part of the excitement.” She sighed and rolled her eyes. “But on the other hand, if that weren’t the case then C.U.M.B.A.T.H. would’ve spent even more time dragging their hooves to fill out all the paperwork. If you’d had five sets of cocks and balls, they might’ve made us wait a whole month.”
Passion Fruit cringed visibly. Oh Sun, she didn’t think she would have had the patience to wait that long. She could scarcely stand the present wait that she was having to endure. Her own member was stiffening far more quickly, jutting out straight ahead from her groin.
And the idea of having that bouquet of genitalia…
“So, anyhow—” Decadence sat up again, and the shaking of the mattress nearly made Passion Fruit topple over. “Now that you’re here, why don’t you tell me a little more about yourself?”
“Wha—huh?” The smaller mare looked up at her, confusion etched across her face. “What do you mean?”
“What do you think I mean?” Decadence snickered with a mirthful twinkle in her eyes. “I want to hear about you, straight from the source instead of a file. Tell me about yourself, what you like, what you do. It’s called small talk.”
Passion Fruit almost had to wrack her brain to remember such a concept. That was something from the days before she came to the Crystal Empire (just like any other thing that was “small”). Back then she would have had to worry about socializing with other ponies about whatever minutiae of the day there had been. Now all she had to do was go up to a pony and ask if they wanted to bang. Bang the clerk at the market, bang the masseuse at the spa, bang the guard on the street corner, bang whatever random attractive creature she passed by. At least until she had decided to start working on the List, then she had to be just a little more specific in her ventures.
“Um, well…” She looked down at her chest and wished that she could pull the answers out of her bosom. Her hand unconsciously clasped at the purse that was hanging at her side. She felt like a filly standing at the front of her class, expected to give a speech. She wasn’t sure she could even remember off the top of her head exactly how long it had been since she started living here, since her life was turned upside-down. The days when she looked in the mirror and saw a plain, unassuming earth pony staring back at her were a distant memory. But the Empress was looking at her expectantly, and despite the present unassuming circumstances it was hard not to feel like there was some authoritative command implied.
“I, uh…I used to be a farmer,” she murmured, scarcely audible, brushing away a lock of purple hair, “actually a bit more like a…a botanist.” She turned to the side and ran a hand over the cutie mark on her broad flank, a purplish fruit cut in half, its seeds spilling out. “I worked on cultivating plants, the fruit-bearing kinds specifically. I was working on my own personal catalog before…you know, I came here.”
“And just why did you decide you wanted to be a part of my kingdom, then, if you were already so committed to your personal projects?” Decadence asked next, leaning back and resting her arms upon the shelf of her own rear like the armrests of a chair.
Passion Fruit pursed her lips as she plunged into her brain again. “It just…seemed like the right thing to do.”
“How so?”
“It was clear that the Empire was just going to keep growing. You had already gotten Celestia and Luna to turn Canterlot over to you, it was only a matter of time before all of Ponyville had joined up too. I guess I thought…there might be some different opportunities up here.”
“And you found those opportunities, I take it?”
“Oh, yes.” Her response was nearly a groan as she felt her loins throb. “Yes…so very many opportunities.”
Decadence smirked at her. “Do you suppose that’s why you decided to start with your little list?”
Passion Fruit paused and blinked back. “What? You…you know about…?”
“I heard about the List too, of course. I needed to know why you wanted to come see me. A rather ambitious effort.” She was obviously amused, but she seemed thoughtful at the same time, genuinely curious. “Don’t you think that your desire to categorize fruits could have been translated to a need to do the same for ponies?”
She could only stare blankly. She had never even considered such a thing. It had only ever been an interest, a hobby born out of a simple idle thought. She was already having sex every day, why not see if she could specifically work toward having sex with every citizen of the Empire? When she thought about it, though, it almost made an eerie amount of sense.
Some nagging voice at the back of her mind reminded her that it had been weeks since she went back to tend to her crops, but that was quickly silenced.
“You have the List with you right now, don’t you?”
“O-oh, um.” Passion Fruit fumbled with her thoughts and then with her hands as she opened up her purse and removed the coiled scroll from within.
“Do you mind if I take a look at it?” she asked, extending one hand toward her.
“S-s-sure.” She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous about this as she put the paper into the much larger hand. Maybe her nerves were getting to her more as a result of the continued denial of pleasure. She was tempted to start stroking her cock while the conversation carried on—she might be able to do it without being noticed if she kept her arm obscured under her breast.
Decadence delicately held the top of the scroll between her fingers and allowed it to unfurl in front of her, dropping onto the top of her bosom and continuing to roll. Her eyes quickly scanned over the small print, which to her must have appeared even smaller. “There doesn’t seem to be any particular order to this,” she mused aloud, “not even alphabetical.”
“I was just starting in my neighborhood and branching outward from there,” she replied, smiling wryly, “and, you know, anypony I happened by who was tempting enough.”
“Opportunist, hmm.” Her finger trailed down along the columns of text. “Taking a bit of a jump though, aren’t you? By my estimation it looks like you still had several districts to go through before you would’ve gotten to the palace.”
“I thought I’d warmed up enough to get to some of the bigger names,” Passion Fruit said with no small amount of pride. She was certainly getting hot under the metaphorical collar presently.
“Quite the bold assumption.” The pink mare glanced down at her with a sly smirk. “You sure you didn’t want to start with Shining Armor before you came to me? You never fantasized about what it might be like to bed Celestia or Luna while they were in charge?”
“I thought it would be better to get what might be my greatest obstacle out of the way first.”
“Hmm…”
Decadence rolled up the scroll again, but before she returned it, she asked, “And did you feel any particular connection to any of the ponies you met before you came here?”
Passion Fruit stared back quietly for several seconds before she answered with a shrug, “I mean…yeah, they were all pretty hot. Most of them were the sort I’d love to see for seconds…or thirds.” She tapped at her chin as her expression steadily stretched into a grin. “I’m probably going to need multiple samples, come to think of it, in order to properly gauge all the data.”
There was no spoken admission that she wasn’t entirely sure what the “data” was in the first place.
She didn’t notice the way Decadence looked at her, still smiling, but something about her didn’t seem entirely content. “Well, if you insist,” she then said before handing the List back, “I suppose we shouldn’t keep you waiting if you’re ready.”
Indeed, Passion Fruit was so ready that she very nearly came on the spot. She nearly just dropped the paper on the bed and leapt upon that monster cock instead of putting it back in her purse again.
“So—” Decadence undid the clasps on her top and skirt before pulling them away altogether and leaving herself fully naked. Her exposed breasts hung freely from her chest, pert and round and heavy. She rotated and swung her legs and the gargantuan girth of her groin up onto the bed, just like that filling the space between the two of them with mountains of meat. The reek of musk filled the earth pony’s nostrils. “You were told about the procedures we’re going to have to go through, I hope.”
She held out one hand and the air crackled, and with a pop something appeared within her grasp. It was a squarish plastic wrapper, at a scale that seemed comparable to a tarpaulin, and when she then used her magic to tear it open its contents were revealed to be a rubbery black circle. Condoms were also nearly a thing of the past these days—a good thing, since the Crystal Empire would likely exhaust the planet’s supply of rubber within a year if every single adult citizen was using them for every single sexual exchange on a daily basis. Fortunately, it hadn’t taken long to develop magical alternatives that would replace the need for contraceptives, leaving them now only necessary for those who posed a particularly excessive risk to their partners.
The Empress herself happened to be near the top of that list (not to be confused with the List). This was something which had been made abundantly clear to Passion Fruit when she came to inquire about this situation in the first place and a cadre of thestrals had ushered her into a darkened room where they showed her grainy photographs from the early days of the Empire, before it had been deemed the utmost importance that Decadence exhibited more restraint. The ponies with phalluses laid in a daze and were still ejaculating violent fountains of cum, and the ones with vaginas were turned into spherical masses that were more womb than equine. And those were just the ones who had touched the royal semen.
“I hope you’re ready to get to work on the stimulation, dear,” she said, looking down at her from the other side of the great sloping arc of shaft, “I can’t put this on until I’m hard.”
“Mmnnn…” Passion Fruit had to clench her teeth together to keep from letting her jaw sag open and drooling. The flared tip in front of her was as wide across as her burgeoning bosom and she could have stuffed her head into the urethral opening. She felt her own member clenching tightly at the same time, aching, yearning, but she wasn’t going to be doing any impaling of her own today.
She stepped forward and bent down, putting her hands on the underside of the fleshy pink column, and attempted to lift it. Even with her natural strength, that was easier said than done, the mass about as heavy as the tree trunk it looked like, but a low crooning note from Decadence served to give her encouragement. Just enough that she could get her breasts underneath, and then she let it fall over her cleavage, the dank, intoxicating smell overwhelming her, and then she moved her arms underneath her breasts again and heaved upward, slowly stepping forward and pushing the tip higher over her head.
As she came close enough that she felt herself begin to prod against the taut surface of those huge pink balls when Decadence spoke, “Have you met with any other citizens of this girth?” At the same time, she was stroking at the base of the shaft, kneading along the spongy length up to the medial ring.
“A f-f-few.” Passion Fruit’s jaw tightened again, stifling a moan. It might have seemed preposterous that Decadence wasn’t actually the most endowed pony in the Empire by default, but she didn’t desire to stifle the desires of her subjects by imposing limits upon them. The earth pony had already in her endeavors encountered a good half dozen ponies, two gryphons, and one dragon with penises that were, even proportionally, larger than the pink alicorn. And one of those had been the proud bearer of two shafts sprouting from their loins. Although, she didn’t want to say out loud that most of those had been a lot simpler to court, having already been plenty hard almost immediately, let alone that none of them had necessitated the protection of a condom. It was astonishing that Decadence was still almost entirely flaccid after all this time while Passion Fruit herself had felt ready to pass out from the blood rushing to her cock.
She leaned in as far as she could and pressed her bosom upward, rhythmically alternating the pressure to lift up and down, sweeping across the underside of the fleshy pillar. Its weight piled over her, and intermittently it throbbed at her, pulsating with intense heat. She was making contact directly with the sensitive skin of her nipples, and the stimulation was electrifying. Whenever she was close enough, she’d pause just long enough to press her muzzle against the bulging underside of the spongy surface and took in a deep breath of its alluring musk. All the while, she slowly wriggled and bucked her hips, back and forth at the enormous testicles in front of her, sagging globes which could have comfortably contained her entire mass and had room for more. They too churned and gurgled at her, like hungry, slumbering behemoths, as they worked themselves closer to peak productivity.
There was a hollow chuckling somewhere as she worked with tireless fervor, her motions becoming automatic, purely guided by base instinct. She groaned gutturally as orgasm rocked her and rivulets of white began to trickle down the insides of her thighs and the crease between Decadence’s testicles. It was little relief, as she remained stiff as a board and eager for more. So much more.
“There, there, that’s enough.” Rubber was touching against her. Decadence had started tugging the condom over the length of her shaft, coating it in a semitransparent black seal, like a film of glossy shadow. A hand was gently pushing her away.
But Passion Fruit wasn’t having any of that. She pushed right back, unable to extricate herself from the embrace of that pulsing mass. She was ready to cling to it, to reach around as far as she could and hold on while she humped against it. Raw lust was overtaking her.
“Passion?”
She moaned as she opened her mouth and let out her tongue to rasp against the stiff surface, and she scarcely even noticed that she was tasting noxious rubber instead of flesh.
“Passion.”
An intangible force began to push against her, forcing her backward. At first it was gentle, and with her hooves on the mattress she was able to keep enough traction to fight back. Then it was intensified dramatically and, all of a sudden, she was swept up into the air like leaves in an autumn breeze. Up toward the ceiling, the pull of gravity replaced by a tickling tingling all around her, and now she could see all of Decadence beneath her, with the tip of the spire pointing directly at her. That was the object of her desires. She could only focus on that; it was her whole world. She didn’t see the disgruntled face looking up at her underneath the swooping tricolor bangs.
“Oh, for Sun’s sake.”
Cyan sparks crackled around Passion Fruit’s eyes. Inside her eyes. There was a buzzing between her ears, within her head, vibrating her skull.
And then suddenly she ached.
She felt it all over. In her chest, where the skin pulled tight. In her thighs and buttocks, where they ground against each other. In her hooves, in her nipples, in her loins. But especially in her cock and balls, intensifying with each pulsating of vital blood beating through them. It felt like she was ready to burst. “W—…what…?” she gasped.
“I turned off your brain’s ability to perceive pleasure,” Decadence replied dully as she rested her chin upon her palm. “Maybe now you can focus.”
Passion Fruit could do little more than continue to sputter as she writhed like a fly caught in an invisible web.
“You’re aware that I can read your emotions, right? I know your feelings. I know your intents.” The Empress reached up to her and clamped her fingers around the tip of her shaft and squeezed. What should have been agonizingly delightful was instead only agonizing as the mare cried out shrilly. “I know that you’re only doing this for the raw sexual gratification of it. You don’t care about cataloging your deviant escapades. There’s no experimentation in this. It’s just you and the rutting. Rutting the whole damn Empire.”
“B-but…but I th-thought…” she whimpered, “that was…that was the whole point…!”
Decadence heaved a great sigh, her shoulders slumping, and she shook her head. “I’ve had ponies like you before. You just get so caught up in the pleasure that that’s all you can think about. You think that that’s all you’re supposed to do. That’s fine for your first week or thereabouts. But then you get to a point where you’re supposed to start thinking about how to integrate.” She looked stern, eyes staring hard. “I know what we may look like, but the Crystal Empire is still an Empire, and we’re supposed to be leading Equestria now. And look at you…gave up on all your dreams of botany so you could go around rutting ponies instead. You couldn’t even take the time to form affection for any of those ponies, it was nothing but the lust talking. It’s true that sex alone provides love, and it’s true that purely monogamous relationships have been in sharp decline, but the greatest love comes from the meeting of two—or more—who have a profound desire for each other. You came bearing no desire for me, Passion Fruit, hardly even the fealty of a subject for their ruler. I was nothing more than a name on a list to you.”
Passion Fruit squirmed, but the weight of guilt upon her was stronger than even the physical pressure that overcame her. She thought of the List, and in her head she could perfectly visualize the list of names, and she could still remember distinctly how she felt about each of them, the experience burned into her memory. And yet, despite that, she couldn’t bring herself to remember the face that should have been attached to those names, only the meaty bits that she rode and squeezed and groped for all their worth. She had told herself that this was for some extensive comparison of all these citizens, but now, starkly deprived of arousal, she couldn’t bring herself to remember what the purpose of the experiment was supposed to be beyond having a whole lot of sex.
“There are still ways you could go about your old botanical studies, you know,” Decadence continued, only absentmindedly stroking the base of her shaft all the while in slow arcs, “there are a number of ponies in the farming industry who use their fluids as fertilizer. Perhaps you could conduct a study on the efficacy of semen compared to breast milk or some such. You’d probably have better ideas than I do, honestly, provided you put some more thought into it.” She then stroked at her chin in thought for a few seconds. “You could also do some work for our census bureau on the side. That might be a slightly more productive use of your time in this whole List endeavor. The Empire has been growing exponentially, we could use some more hands with keeping track of everypony.” She shrugged her shoulders. “You know, just a thought.”
The earth pony bit her lip anxiously. It was almost shocking to her how such ideas of responsibility had been completely removed from her way of thinking even for what had been a relatively short span of time. Ever since drinking the fountain waters and becoming as she was now, all she had thought about was wringing as much pleasure as she could out of every second of the day. Have a quick bang, cross off a name, next, repeat. “How…how am I supposed to start all of that?” she gasped.
But Decadence just shrugged at her again. “Tartarus, as if I know, it’s your path in life, you’ve got to figure it out for herself, just like we did before we had tits and dicks like these.” Then she smirked, and there was a tantalizing, mischievous glimmer in her eyes. “But hey, we’re probably going to have a lot of time to talk all this over, so until then how about we get on to the main course? You didn’t go through all that paperwork just so I could give you a lecture, and I didn’t get myself worked up just so I could beat off to myself.”
The magical haze inhibiting Passion Fruit’s brain began to fade, returning her sense of arousal, while the levitation allowed her to ease lower. That intense pleasure gave way to a chilling tingle as she was deposited onto the tip of the pink, rubber-clad spire, right on the lip of the flare, buttocks draped over one side, legs and balls on the other, and the full weight of exactly what was about to happen became apparent. The Empress’ cock was even bigger now that it was fully erect, the head especially even more exaggeratedly bulbous. She stood at the edge of a precipice now as she looked down along the length that extended beneath her to the other pony’s groin and realized that this was going to be put inside her.
This was such a bad idea and she wanted every part of it.
“You should be fine if you’ve already been with ponies around my size, yes?” Decadence said as she then turned Passion Fruit around, facing away from her, and the telekinetic force holding her in place began to push, focusing the pressure upon the opening of her vulva. “You’re already plenty wet, I can tell, that’s enough for lubrication. I hope you don’t mind, though, that I can be a bit rough.”
Her heart was pounding, thudding so loudly in her chest that she thought it surely would be audible. She whispered, “I…I don’t mind—”
“Good.”
A hand tugged hard on her tail and Passion Fruit gave a yelp which quickly escalated into a scream as her loins were stretched wide by the member penetrating her. Her torso distended as the shape of the fleshy battering ram pushed out against her stomach from inside, and for every inch that entered her she saw it project further ahead of her before her very eyes. Her own body was stretching just as much as the condom which Decadence had put on. The progress came at a steady pace until she felt something press hard against her undercarriage—the medial ring—but only for a second before another tug forced it in. She came with a violent spasm, her own cock and balls, tucked away underneath her distended abdomen, gushing a torrent of white that sprayed across the bed and floor in ropy strands, but that might as well have been worlds away. The pressure was unimaginable, mounting higher and higher, straining to pull her apart at the seams, assaulting her nerves with a lightning storm of sensory input, igniting her entire body in an inferno.
(Outside, a guard looked toward the door. “Oh, they’re finally going at it.”
“Took them long enough,” his partner replied with a snicker.
“Nah, this was definitely one of those sorts, she probably had to give her a lecture.”
“Dear Sun, I can’t imagine a worse boner-killer than that.”)
Passion Fruit sobbed, tears streaking over her cheeks, and she only stopped screaming so that she could gasp for breath, labored and haggard, every sound etched with pain and pleasure. Her eyelids fluttered as she struggled to focus on what she saw in front of her, her own skin stretched taut and towering up over her, conforming to the shape of Decadence’s penis, pink covered in black and now yellow. Her legs were utterly useless, only able to clench and curl inward like an insect in its death throes, squeezing her thighs together around the girth between them for all their worth. Her loins twitched eagerly, testicles already refilling as her refractory period ended.
A guttural crooning noise came from behind her. There was softness all around, cushy flesh enveloping her. Drawn all the way down to the hilt, her buttocks pressed against the flat surface of the alicorn’s stomach. Breasts surrounded her, and underneath she felt the enormity of the giant’s balls, pushing back against her as they steadily swelled in preparation for their own release. “Fuck if you aren’t tight,” Decadence muttered under her breath, a growl rising up from her throat, “all that sex did you some good in getting prepared for this.”
“Ffffuck, fuck…fuck…!” Passion Fruit repeated, like a foal who had overheard the obscenity and taken to thoughtlessly repeating it. She was lost in hysteria, only able to think about the mass that was filling her to bursting, to clutch onto it. She rubbed at her own bulging midsection, kneading at the penis within, however ineffectually.
“If you say so,” the Empress replied with a snort of laughter.
Hands gripped tightly around the yellow mare’s thighs and buttocks now, squeezing. Like a toy, the giant held onto her, pushing up and then ramming back down, a twofold impact as her rump slapped against the bulwark of flesh behind her and the shaft inside thrust at the inner lining of her womb. With each repeat of the cycle, her breasts flopped upward before coming back down with a wet slap against the distended surface of her midsection, while her purse, forgotten, hanging from her arm, jangled about. Decadence, kneeling upon the bed, rhythmically bucked her hips at a steadily quickening pace. Her own composure was eroding as well as the ravenous beast that was her arousal superseded conscious thought.
In the final moments, Passion Fruit grew aware of something asserting itself over her. She didn’t have enough awareness to be able to think critically about it at the time, but in reflecting on it she would remember how she felt it around her heart, a gentle, fluttering sensation. Or maybe it wasn’t her actual heart, not the grisly four-chambered organ, more like the cartoonish representation of a heart that represented love. Her emotional heart, or her soul or spirit perhaps. It was something raw and unfettered pouring into her, and in automatic response she responded by pouring back in equal or greater measure, and that resulted in a feedback loop, trading back and forth over and over. That was Decadence’s love for her in that moment. There was something indescribably beautiful about it.
Passion Fruit was riding high in the midst of her sixth orgasm when Decadence finally grunted and tensed up and came inside her.
There was a surge of added pressure passing through her vagina, pressing right against her clit, as the contents of the pink testicles worked up into the shaft, far along its length, before finally releasing inside her. This would not be the first time that the mare had been turned into a living cum balloon, but the Empress’ seed was unique in more than just its unreasonable potency. Instead of jets of sticky gunk, it emerged from the urethra in thick, cohesive globs, further altering the shape of Passion Fruit’s body as it built up and crept lower, a bubble within her womb. She watched drunkenly as she distorted, the strained outline of a stallionhood becoming replaced with a globe. The pressure had reached such a feverous pitch that she was going numb to further sensory input, her brain ready to melt out her ears. Her breath came out in gurgling rasps as if the cum was rising into her throat.
Some part of the mare dimly remembered the photographs she’d been shown of past ponies who had experienced sexual altercations with Decadence. She couldn’t gauge how she compared to them as the horizon of her midsection rose up in front of her, obliterating her ability to see anything in front of her without being rolled forward onto her own central mass. Not that she could muster the strength even to do that as she slumped limply into the feeling of afterglow, the need to mount ever higher toward climax finally receding. She was only able to judge based on tactile information. She felt that she spilled over the edge of the bed and continued to sprawl across the floor below. She smothered Decadence’s balls, no longer churning like there was an ocean inside them now that it had all been transferred into her, with her own cock and balls sandwiched in between.
“Mmm…yes, now that’s the stuff.” The hands that had been gripping her thighs let go to instead press against the sides of her bloated belly. Passion Fruit whimpered at even their most delicate touch as they caressed her, rubbing sensually in circular arcs. It had a consistency more akin to a bag full of pudding than a water balloon, wobbling more than sloshing. There was also something odd about the condom being in there, an added degree of separation between the fluid contents and the actual inner lining of her reproductive organs. “That was quite the performance,” Decadence whispered to her, and one thumb stretched to pat at her head, stroking through her mane, “you did do a marvelous job getting acclimated to your new lifestyle at least.”
Passion Fruit was silent for some time, wavering on the brink of consciousness. She felt her whole body throbbing in time with the beating of her heart, only it felt like it began in the opening of her overtaxed vulva and spread out from there. The shaft inside her no longer had quite as much presence, swimming in its own juices, the breadth of her midsection outstripping the alicorn’s length. Decadence held her close, nestled within the embrace of pink, waiting for her to either come to her senses—or some semblance thereof—or completely submerge into hibernation.
There was a grunt as one of her arms limply spasmed. Hand slapped against and latched onto something soft and pliant. Probably a breast, but she was so disconnected from herself that she wasn’t even sure if it was her own or that of the other mare. Dimly, she was aware of the List. It had an inexplicable physical presence that she couldn’t ignore, calling to her. This time, though, she felt no compulsion to listen—which was good, since she probably couldn’t have mustered the strength and coordination to take it out and write on it. She panted and gasped several times, working the feeling back into her jaw, before she was able to say, “So…good…”
“It always pays off when you have to put in some extra effort for your partner,” Decadence said distantly. Her fingers shifted to brush along the smaller pony’s sides, where the base of her midsection stretched outward, and that eased the tension just a little, prompting a quiet moan at the back of her throat.
“Now comes the tricky part.”
Decadence’s touch became a tad less gentle as she pressed against the small of Passion Fruit’s back and the underside of her belly, just above where it met with the groin. At the same time that she began to push the bloated yellow-furred blimp off of her, she used her magic to pull taut the opening of the condom which was still exposed to the open air. There were the sounds of wet sucking and popping as she extricated herself from within the now-cavernous expanse of the earth pony’s womb, having to do so while carefully avoiding spilling any of its hazardous contents. Her cock had already begun to regress from its fully engorged state, so there wasn’t as much strain in removing it as there had been while sticking it in, but even after her tip had been taken out Passion Fruit found that her vaginal passage was still gaping wide, forced open by a ring of cyan light. The alicorn, now standing up on the (loudly creaking) bed, gave herself a shake to dislodge any remaining globs of semen before she removed the condom, and as soon as she did the elastic ring opening constricted on itself, shrinking shut to keep its cargo locked within, snagging against Passion Fruit’s nether lips like the cap of a plug, leaving only her own vaginal fluids to eke out across her fur.
“There we go,” Decadence announced cheerily as she stepped down to the floor and then pushed the earth pony forward, off of the bed and roughly onto the top of her own far more voluminous midsection. The pink alicorn stepped around the sprawling mass which now occupied a significant portion of the room’s floor space. It was a good thing that her body-altering aura didn’t account for inflation, otherwise this would have gotten a lot more crowded. “Now we can start brainstorming those career options…”
“W—…wait,” Passion Fruit sputtered, trying to move. “Try” in the loosest sense of the word. In addition to still being weak and only able to shift her limbs in the laziest twitching motions, there wasn’t exactly a whole lot she could do with the span of her gut being several magnitudes greater than her reach. “You’re just…just…gonna keep me…like this?”
“Don’t you remember the last part of the procedure they told you about?” There was a wry smirk on Decadence’s face as she came into her field of view, and she shrugged her shoulders, wings fluttering. “You have to keep the condom in until C.U.M.B.A.T.H. can get some specialists up here to safely remove it. Should take a few hours; you know how bureaucracy goes. And do be careful about overexerting yourself—” She placed a hand on the taut surface and pushed in, leaving an imprint that remained for a few seconds before resuming its original shape. “—you don’t want it to rupture while it’s still in there, then you’d have even bigger problems to worry about.”
Passion Fruit was only just lucid enough to grasp at the consequences this could entail. It was fortunate that she was more inclined to remain still anyway.
“So, since we’re going to have plenty of time on our hands,” the Empress then said as she sat down at her desk, rump filling the span between the giant chair’s arm rests while her balls spilled out over her legs, “we can get you started on thinking about what you’d like to start doing for a living.” She brought over an oversized quill and a notepad and tapped the tip to the page several times before musing, “Living mattress is always an option, you know.”
Author's Note
I didn't get a good chance to mention how Passion Fruit, currently at just under ten feet tall herself, is below-average height for the Empire, so imagine how tall the other characters must be.
Yes, the title is supposed to be taken metatextually too.
