Smolder laid upon the smooth grass, bathing in the intense heatwave brought forth by the sun. The Heatwave’s siege was brutal for the poor residents of ponyville as the dragoness recalled watching rows of ponies lined up for cold drinks, swiming pools, ice cream or being fanned by pegasus’. The last sight was a good laugh to have as she strolled through the town the heat for Smolder was a mild day to her compared to the barren and scorching Dragon Lands. It was still a wonderful feeling, though, as the intense hotness warmed her orange and yellow scales. A day like this, there was no chance she missed an opportunity to sunbathe. The quiet fields outside of ponyville was the perfect place to relax and enjoy it to the fullest. Yes, Just laying back out here in the grass and rest day away-
-Something hard and metallic hit her forehead, disrupting her tranquil sun-bathing.
“OW! Wha- Who?-” She leaped straight back up to find whoever flung at whatever hit her noggin, yet all she saw was the open grassland and the far away Ponyville. Grunting in annoyance at losing her assailant, she instead looked around to see whatever was used to hit her. It was metallic-made, she was sure of it, but not heavy enough to do any real damage, just a digging, dulling sting was what she received; still annoying enough that she wished to return the favour but with fist instead! Yet she could also have sworn it made some kind of ringing sound too. Almost like a.. a…
“A cowbell?” she looked at the object on the ground like it was some obscene item that was offered to her in some poor sense of humour. Who in Scales would flung a cowbell at her?! She picked up the gold covered bell and examined it. The weight of the bell was heavier than any cheap metal like bronze or tin. Someone actually flung a real golden shaped cowbell at her! It being no bigger than her hand they had to toss it close to her or it would have done actual bruising on her scaly hide. Yet that would mean her cyan eyes would have spotted the jerk - running or flying! She let out a frustrated growl and looked at the logo engraved on the bell. Maybe it’ll give her a clue to who did it. The engraving helped little in that regard: A head of a mammal that she could not decide if it was shaped like a deer or a bovine. The horns stretched and twisted like that of a tree also did not help much - is this based on an actual creature or just the design for a coat of arms? Maybe Teacher Twilight could help solve this mystery. She tossed the Cowbell up in the air, it spun in mid-air once and then twice making the chimes that you would expect of such an instrument. She caught it, but as soon as it touched her claw, branches erupted forth from the bell! Smolder had no time to react as the branches quickly wrapped around her into a wooden cocoon. The branches continued to warp and twist, shrinking in width and size and in mere seconds it and the dragoness vanished into non-existence.
Smolder’s head was spinning. Running around her vision were spots and small Spikes were flying around saying “lists” over and over again. The Dragoness gave her head a hard shake. The Spikes were flung into oblivion and the spots subsided enough to focus on her surroundings. She was in a hut she assumed by the layout: the roof being made of straw and the walls made with only timber. Her ears heard the sound of branches rustling in a gentle breeze; did the cowbell teleport her into a forest? It was hard to tell as an unusual opaque light blinded the windows. Her mind remembered the bell and her eyes whizzed around to her trying to find the bell. Her expression hardened. She found the bell, but what she was on and what she wore was a cause of her expression
“Ack?!” She was seated upon a bed of only cushions, wearing nothing except for a pair of kneesocks and armsocks painted in spots of black and white like that of a cow and warped around her neck in a snug black leather collar was the magical cowbell. A mixture of confusion and anger flustered within her. Whoever had undressed her and put all this on is going to receive a dragon’s wrath of pain! She grabbed the cowbell and the leather strap trying to rip it off. Yet her mighty draconic strength barely tugged the fabric as if she had the muscle power of a welp! All she could do was ring the cursed bell and she felt a weird tingling feeling. she ignored the unusual tingling that danced around her body. That was until she could not ignore it any longer.
It was a sudden feeling: the tingling growing intense with every new chime of the bell as hundreds of little fingers were massaging her chest, trying to coax something out of her. Before she stopped and investigate she gasped at the sudden feeling of warmth and then-
*Blorb*
-out pushed two heavy orbs of flesh, jingling like heavy water balloons from the merest push at their unexpected arrival. Blood rushed to Smolder’s checks at the sight of two c-sized breasts sloshing before her. Before she could even process such an affront on her body the fitful chest movements caused the bell to chime again, the tingling returned again and smolder eyes narrowed at the returning warmth.
*blorb*
Her new breast grew an inch bigger. Smolder tried to halt the rising moan in her throat. She grabbed the accursed bell to stop its chiming hoping to stop the growth. To her horror the tingling returned again.
“No-nonono- AH!” She moaned as her chest inflated, again. The expansion sent torrents of pleasure throughout her body. She started hyperventilating over the trauma of what was happening to her. She glared at her bloated chest, a mixture of panic and anger flooded her mind. Her anger was directed at whoever threw that cursed cowbell at her. If she ever finds out the one who is doing this, treating dragonfire burns would be the least of their problems. Then a new surprise came to her attention
“Ah,” She winced at the new feeling inside her cleavage. It felt like swelling, no, filling, as if someone was pumping something into her. Then she recalled the lesson about mammals and how their breasts contain liquid known as...
Milk.
The tips of her areola throbed as the nipples sheathed out, begging to be milked. She gulped. If she was filling up with milk would that mean these ‘things’ will keep expanding? As to prove her point the breasts stretched again, without the tingling this time.
Smolder bit her lip as she felt the orbs expanded into the dreaded grapefruit range as well as the pressure increasing on her nipples. There was no choice now, she had to milk herself or who knows what will happen. Her blushing grew redder as she stared at the fabrics on her arms, pattern like that of a dairy cow. Whoever is doing this wants her to act like a cow, how humiliating. Ignoring the wounding of her pride, Smolder reached for her teats, her huge breasts dwarfing her hands. The dragon gripped hard at them and immediately regretted it.
*BLORB*
Instead of out-pouring milk, she received a jolt of pleasure that punched the air out of her lungs in a cry of ecstasy. Her breast exploded in growth passing well beyond the next cup size and into the ludicrous G-melon size. Smolder’s mind would have been racing to find another way to solve her expanding problem, but her thoughts were distracted. The pleasurable sting of her stretch scales and the rising load of milk fogging up her rational mind. She kept squeezing her teats, but this time she went for a gentle massaging than hard groping. She kept rubbing the tips, hoping for even a drop of milk, yet the pressure kept building. The warmth mixed in with the terrible sounds of her breasts filling up and growing, *blorp, blorp, blorp”
“Mrmmmph,” she moaned. It was pointless, all she was doing was increasing the pressure inside her breasts, but she could not stop. she kept on rubbing and the orbs kept on growing bigger and bigger.
*Blorp, blorp, blorp*
Her forked tongue slipped out, her mind losing all sense except for the mounting pressure and the nerving rending joy her groping was giving her. If only she could be milked, yet all she could do was massage her growing bosom. So lost into it she did not see the form of something manifesting in the shadows. The weight of her gargantuan bosom pushed her down further into the bed of cushions, the breast bouncing at the slight motion. All she could see now was boob-flesh that pinned her lower body and threatened to smother her. Her hands could barely reach halfway to her breasts much less her teats now. Yet she still rubbed her poor tight breasts, feeling the steady stream of milk still filling her beyond the bursting point.
“WON’T SOMEONE JUST MILK ME, PLEASE!” Smolder cried out to anyone who was nearby; no longer caring what they would think seeing her this way. At the far corner someone came to her rescue.
Smolder gasped as she felt two alien hands grip her monolithic cleavage and pushed away the near-endless scalie flesh. With barely open eyes she looked directly at the strangers glowing ones. He was a dragon, or at least, she though so, though the outline gave him more of a bovine look. His horns stretched around like branches, just like those on the cowbell that brought her here and did this.
Before she could even think of anything to ask, he chuckled, his tone filled with mirth, “I was not expecting a dragoness to offer such a fine bounty as this,” he squished her left breast earning him a pleasant melody of moaning from the dragoness, “Still, I wonder how you taste.” The voice was of someone who was old in this world, ancient even, and it hungered. His mouth went for her left teat and, without warning, sucked hard. Smolder screamed in both shock and relief. Finally she felt the overfilled boob being relieved of its contents as the Ancient sucked and licked her teat realising torrents of milk into his maw. Her moans sang in union with his massive gulps, feeling the liquid being drained away, soothing her of that terrible pressure inside of her. Then he just stopped, just when the rhythm was getting good. Smolder whimpered at the sudden halt.
“Yes, you will do just fine,” The Ancient said, his eyes flashing a golden brilliance of power being unleashed.
Smolder heard rustling from above: two vines with spear-like heads descended towards her, the limbs that formed the spear twitched in excitement . She tried to move away but her efforts were weighed down by her cleavage and her limbs sinking into the cushions failing to get a grip on the illusive fabric . When the vines were a tongues length away from her nipples they opened up into stars, latched onto her breast and began their work. Starting up like pistons the vines pushed and pulled, sucking in the dragon’s milk in great apple sized gulps. The mind numbing feeling was as if someone was massaging into her beached ball breasts and then squeezed at her tips. She screamed with every push and pull from the vines. Smolder was awash in mind-numbing passion; finally having the bloat reduced and being replaced with a soothing kneading that made her melt away. So lost was she that she failed to notice the breast wilting in size or how the Ancient set his eyes on Smolder’s other sensitive spots.
Too focused in her breast expansion she did not notice the changes below: her hips, butt and thighs had suffered the same plumping effects. Though nowhere near the ludicrous size as her bosoms the thick, egg-laying hips would get any males’ attention, especially this ancient being’s gaze. The Ancient wasted no time with fore-play; grabbing a handful of soft rear, he aimed his pulsing rod into Smolder’s wet lower lips. Smolder eyes bulged, the sheer girth of it would have split her open, yet it pushed her walls with only the feeling of pure rapture as it made its way through her.
“Flames -- what are you!?” She screamed out.
He answered when he fully docked within her, “One who is only remembered in the act of prosperity.”
Before Smolder could form the thought to understand that answer, she felt him unsheath her inner walls only to ram into her again. Flames sparked out of her mouth as she screamed from the molten euphoria she felt. The Ancient continued to pound into the dragoness. His thrusting sent jolts of elation throughout Smolder's twitching body. Despite the rapid movements and the quivering cleavage the vines continued milking the dragoness. The vines have slurped up gallons in just minutes, yet the mammaries remained a healthy watermelon size as the milk production matched the output of the vines drinking. It matched this thanks to the Ancient’s continued assault in Smolder’s womb and sending the dragoness’ hormones into overdrive. With every gallon drained from her breasts the hormones signaled to make more to replace the losses. Smolder was just content to receive the jolts of pleasure, singing out her passions to the Ancient who was all too happy to keep pounding with more wild abandon.
It had been too long being away from this feeling. To be inside another, feeling the walls wrapped tightly around his appendage. To feel a female spasm with his every thrust. He could mate with this dragoness for an eternity. Alas, time was not on his side and he could not waste this opportunity, and besides: it had also been just as long since the last time he had gotten to release. With one final hard thrust, the ancient ushered forth his load.
Smolder let out a high pitched wail as her body quake from her orgasm along with the Ancient’s heavy load of hot spunk that he shot into her. She moaned again as another stream of warm liquid rushed through her again, her moans twisted into concern groaning as another load pulsed its way into her packed womb.
“Be glad, dragon, for you are the first to receive my offering,” he said, his voice lustful at reliving his old passion: filling another with his essence, but also fulfilling his other goal.
Smolder whined like a frightened dog as she felt her stuffed womb stretched as another load entered her. Her midriff rounded like she already had a clutch of eggs and continued to bloat outward well beyond the limits even of her dragonkin to hold. Still more of the Ancient’s endless essence entered into her, expanding her further and further.
“P-please s-stop- ah!” Smolder tried to beg, but the continuous milking and the endless stream of warming sperm made it hard to form words in her mouth let alone her mind. she might as well not have said anything at all as she moaned in her prison of expanding bliss. The Ancient rubbed the filling belly. He was pleased that he had such a fertile offering in his prison. He wondered if this dragoness was a special case or were all her kin as fertile now than their ancestors were. He looked forward to meeting them.
Her mammaries fought for dominance over her expanding belly. The war was short, though as her widening and stretching belly pushed her cleavage aside. With half-opened eyes, Smolder watched her breasts angled close to her as her belly swell well past pumpkin size. Still his seed continued to fill her, the lumbering form of her belly still widening, its height double her own. Smolder whimpered at the tightness, fearing that she might soon pop.
A wave of relief came when she heard the Ancient sigh as he pumped his final load into her. He rubbed more of her spherical belly, feeling the taunt scales creak at the tiniest of pushes.
“You have served me well, dragon.” he said, whenever Smolder was aware he did not seem to care. He stepped away and marvelled at his work. No one would recognize Smolder in her state: her massive boobs - still being milked by the vines - threaten to smother her head as they stand thanks to the seed-filled belly that gurgled and groaned from it. His balls still ached to release more of his load, but he was out of time. With another flash from his eyes the dragoness disappeared. His plan was in motion now, all he needed to do was wait.
“Smolder? Are you ok?”
“Huh? What?” Smolder’s mind was a fog from her deep sleep.
“Smolder?”
The dragoness heavy eyes limbed to the origin of the female voice to her left . Ocellus stared at her from across the room. The changeling’s face was filled with concern for her friend.
“Y-yeah, I’m fine. What’s up?” She asked as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
“You were outputting a lot of emotions; were you having a bad dream?”
“A dream?” Her mind tried to think back to the dream and the sound of the cowbell made her scales crawl. “Yeah, it was a really weird dream.”
“I gathered that,” the changeling said, blushing in embarrassment. “But I felt… fear as well. Are you sure you are okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Smolder answered as she wrapped herself in the covers of her bed, glad that it was all a dream, “It was just a dream, Ocellus.”
“Okay, Smolder,” Occellus returned to sleep. Neither of the two noticed the cowbell staring at the two from outside of their dormitory’s window.