Kim Possible: A Sitch in Equestria

Dipsy felt stunning. He traipsed around town on his tippy toes, his colossal bulk still sending tremors through the nearby buildings, though he wasn’t trying to sneak. More he was attempting to be light on his feet like a ballerina, dancing through the market without a care in the world.

The same could not be said for the ponies in that market who immediately stopped their business as he came into view. His looks would have been quite distracting-- If the ponies were racist, that is, which they can assure you THEY ARE NOT-- but he had several ponies impaled on his arms and legs in an absolutely horrid and garish display that would fit right in on the catwalk.

“H-help me…” One of the impaled ponies moaned, allowing onlookers to finally realize that they were still alive, stabbed through with precision in such a way that their organs were merely displaced and Dipsy’s limbs sealed the wounds allowing little blood to escape. They twitched, moaned, and begged, unable to do anything else due to the pain as Dipsy hopped around the square, eager for all to see.

As they gawked at him, so too did he admire them, and before long he’d spotted a pony in the crowd whose colors he admired. He moved towards them, the other ponies clearing space and allowing him to approach unheeded.

Below, Fleur Whorsedevoire, a renowned Canterlope model and celebrity stared up at this great green monstrosity. She was only in this backwater shithole because her boyfriend, the captain of the Royal Guard, was down here for work. That, and she enjoyed spitting on all the pathetic Earth ponies. They didn’t even stop her as she’s one of the most beautiful ponies alive, and she’s also rather tall and elegant, having spent her career undergoing numerous leg and neck lengthening surgeries in which they drilled ever-longer tungsten rods into her bones. It was difficult to turn her head or bend her legs, but the results speak for themselves.

Normally she’d be disgusted by this hulking beast, especially given the smell, but right now he looked absolutely dazzling. She had an eye for fashion, and clearly so too did this thing. Her lip upturned very slightly, the closest thing to a smile she could manage after having her lips filled to twelve-times their natural size with silicon, and she considered hiring it as a fashion consultant. Surely if anyhorse could pull off his style in the big times it would be her.

She opened her mouth, and every pony in the plaza flinched, fresh memories of getting spat on still ingrained in their fragile pony psyche. Instead, though, she spoke, “what a marvelous outfit! I’m intrigued, and would love to try it myself if you’d be willing to share your secrets!”

Dipsy nodded, giving a big, goofy smile as he’d found a pony that could truly enjoy his artistic soul instead of just screaming and running.

“Marvelous, I’ll hire you immediately!” she began, only for Dipsy to reach down and grab her with his big, good, strong hands. “I know I’m beautiful but touching is strictly off limits!”

Her shouting clearly fell on deaf ears (probably due to his still-living pony earmuffs) as he effortlessly lifted her up, exposing her gaping horse-hole to all the onlookers who began furiously masturbating(even the girls… especially the girls).

“I’ll have my boyfriend who’s the captain of the royal guard beat you up if you don’t unhand me immediately!” She cried indignantly, launching spittle in all directions with every hard consonant.

It was too late for her though, and no one was moving to help, all simply wanking it, some even using her spit as lube. Dipsy lifted her up over his head, his eyes appraising her every detail with a criticality that felt to Fleur as though he was looking straight through her skin. He turned her body a few times, making minor adjustments, before lifting her up over his head, ass-down.

Fleur finally realized what was happening, a little too late, and began screaming and thrashing. Despite her best efforts, she could not budge his grip, nor divert her course as he slowly lowered her onto his dipstick. She hardly felt as it first penetrated her asshole having taken her boyfriend’s absolute monster dong in the back so many times, but this wouldn’t last long.

He kept lowering her and she gasped once the dipstick extended around the corner of her large intestine, except it didn’t, instead forcing her shit-tract to straighten out and pulling all her organs around with it. The pain was horrific, and she could only open and close her mouth like a fish, eyes pointed towards the baby head sun in the sky which smiled and laughed at her plight while his dipstick probed ever deeper inside. Then it got even worse as she reached his head. It seemed he had no intention of wearing her like a hat, and instead continued to stretch her up and over his dome like an undersized T-shirt.

Her skin and innards stretched, all seemingly to the breaking point, but never quite enough to tear or snap. Time seemed to stretch on for Fleur, but in actuality it was done in moments, performed with the same casual nature as though Dipsy was donning his favorite necklace. As his head emerged from her mouth, every pony in the entire plaza simultaneously climaxed, spraying their semen like confetti in celebration of Dipsy’s fashion achievement.

Fleur’s entire digestive tract was now a straight line, bunched and folded a thousand times to perfectly line Dipsy’s neck with her asshole at his collar and her mouth around the base of his chin. Her other organs had been squeezed proportionally around her sides, leaving her as basically a meat tube with arms and legs. With one final move, Dipsy snapped off her ultra long and perfectly pedicured horn and shoved it up his ass, using it to scratch an itch just out of reach of his large fingers.

Once done, he did a twirl, flaunting his new scarf for all to see. Wide-eyed, Fleur stared back at the onlookers as they gawked in post-masturbation horror, many making eye contact with her. One could wonder if, as a model and fashionista, she might actually enjoy her new position, the center of attention as a beautiful accessory to be admired by the masses, but no one could ask her such a thing now.

Dipsy continued to twirl and dance, all eyes on him, until someone new entered the plaza wearing gaudy silver and gold plate armor that reflected the sun directly into Dispy’s eyes. The platemail clashed with his brown fur and green hair, but his mighty jawline made it clear any who pointed this out would be faced with a generous beating, either verbal or physical.

“Hey Fleur, I got you a 0% sugar, 0% GMO’s, 0% fat candied apple from that stand,” he called out, his voice absolutely wonderful. The crowd parted for him, and he looked around for his supermodel girlfriend (who stood out from any crowd). “Where’d you go babe?”

It was only after a few moments that he caught sight of Dipsy, the absolute green unit somehow escaping his gaze until now, and he immediately made eye contact with his girlfriend, now contorted into a lovely piece of neckwear. His eyes swept up slightly to catch those of Dipsy, who was scowling at his lame, unfashionable armor.

“The fuck did you do to my girlfriend, you freak?!” he yelled, his words cutting into Dipsy like a hot knife, though not literally, “I got her a candy apple and now she can’t even eat it because of you!”

Dipsy had been nice up to now, but this mean pony really got his diddly in a twist calling him a ‘freak’. He frowned, about to dispense justice, when the pony spoke up again.

“Don’t you know who I am?! I’m Chaz Nunchucks, the captain of the entire royal Canterlope guard!”

Dipsy put a finger innocently to his bottom lip and muttered “Tubby Custard?” as though asking, “Chuck who?”

“Nunya Chuckin’ business, that’s who!” He shouted back in agitation before pulling a conch from his secret tail compartment.

“Royal Guard ASSEMBLE!!!” Kissing the conch on the tip and filling its hole with a sensual blow, he blared a deep call which reverberated around town.

Within seconds the plaza shook as though from an approaching stampede and the air growled under the beating of countless mighty horse wings.

In a flash the plaza was assaulted by a deluge of pony soldiers. Hundreds of thousands of hooves smacked against the cobble street, sounding like a swarm of jackhammers. At the same time, the sky became blotted in gray as millions of furiously waving feathers formed a towering spire above Dipsy and the townsfolk.

Swiftly and efficiently, the earth ponies scooped up the civilians in the area that weren't being used as Teletubby clothing and scooted them to the outer rim of the plaza, where they could easily run away to safety if such a thing still existed. Instead the evacuated ponies stuck around and opted to record the whole thing on their phones. Unlike Ots'ehte, these ponies are millennials, and are therefore slaves to social media.

"Like, what the heck is that thing?" Asked one of the Pegasi Soldiers, specifically Flight Lieutenant Milky Weight. She was a plumper pegasus than most, in part due to her enormous sagging crotchtits filled with milk that sloshed and roiled with each flap of her wings. The weight of her tits and gut handicapped her immensely, and she was only able to fly maybe twenty feet off the ground or so. Her special talent is probably being almost too heavy to fly, since her cutie mark is a weight.

"Not quite sure," screamed Brigadier Bible Bastard, a red and dark red pony, with an even darker red mane and tail. The reflective tape cross he'd plastered on his ass in place of a cutie mark glimmered as small beams of sunlight from the baby head above broke through the mass of wings and struck it at random intervals. "But I have a mighty urge to hand that boy a bible!"

The reason he had to scream is because he is quite a bit higher up in the air than Milky Weight. So much so that it would be ridiculous for Bible Bastard to even have heard her, if it weren't for his absurdly enormous ears.

"Classic Bible Bastard," chuckled Milky Weight, each vibration causing droplets of mommy milk to fall from the sky and directly into Dipsy's mouth (he had been doing the soy face at the time so his mouth was wide open).

Dipsy took a moment to analyze the flavor profile of the mommy milk, finding that it had a remarkably similar flavor to his favorite meal in the whole wide world!

"Tubby custard!" He exclaimed. His tummy screen flashed a myriad of bright colors, seemingly echoing his excitement.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Cried a pony from somewhere in the crowd, probably even one with a name and even a few character traits.

I guess we'll never know, because Dipsy, hearing this question, pulled some teeth out of the gaping mouth of his Fleur turtleneck and flicked them at the offending pony. They traveled at a speed so great that tiny mach cones formed around each of the bone projectiles. These twirling cones turned into blood spirals as they speared through the cranium of the creature before tumbling off in random directions. The pony was dead before it hit the floor.

With that taken care of, Dipsy returned his attention to the tubby wubby pony waifu that lurked a mere ten feet above his head. That kind of distance was child's play.

Dipsy squatted down, and the ponies all gawked excitedly, murmuring to themselves about whether or not he was about to take a shit.

Their question was soon answered, as Dipsy pushed himself off the ground, effortlessly jumping up to Milky's level and snatching her out of the air.

Once his feet were planted firmly on the ground, Dipsy took a big milky pony tit in each hand, and lifted Milky above his head. With minimal force Dipsy squeezed, spraying a firehose-strength stream of mommy milk right down his throat in a manner similar to how Hercules drank that drink in Disney's Hercules.

"Oooohhh," moaned Milky as she experienced a feeling no living human can accurately empathize with. Not even you, with those bulbous, heaving breasts loaded to the brim with curdled milk.

A sound resembling a power washer echoed over the crowded plaza as the breast milk cannon continued. The force was such that if you or I were to try this stunt at home (WARNING: DO NOT) the milk would drill a hole through our heads. For Dipsy though it was barely enough to dislodge one or two tonsil stones clinging to the back of his mouth.

As Dipsy squeezed and the liquid flowed, Milky's breasts deflated, shrinking down until they resembled wet balloons that somebody had scrunched up in their hands. They might possibly have even looked like some other wet, scrunched up object but any other similes are escaping me right now. Like a tissue that I've thrown away after cumming in it and scrunching it up.

Soon the supply of sweet nectar was depleted. So Dipsy crushed Milky Weight against the side of his head like a beer can before shooting her basketball-style into a nearby rubbish bin. The ponies all clapped, and a scoreboard on a house nearby lit up displaying a score of 2-0.

The crowd of pony soldiers unleashed a maelstrom of thunderous applause so loud and forceful that it would put an LRAD to shame. If you don't know what that is, then at the very least you should be able to pick up through context clues that it's fucking loud.

"As impressive and sexy as that was," admitted Captain Chaz Nunchucks of royal guard fame, "we're still totally gonna have to kill you for that whole wearing my gf like a turtleneck thing."

Dipsy cringed at the sound of someone saying "gf" instead of "girlfriend" in real life, but he could still empathize with this clear beta male. If somebody wore his gf like a turtleneck he would have some choice words for that individual. Namely "tubby" and "custard."

"Stop empathizing with me, I can tell that's what you're doing and it's seriously peeving me off." Griped Nunchucks.

Dipsy shrugged, not ready to let some lamewad control his empathy gland.

"For your crimes against my hot, beautiful, sexy supermodel gf, I sentence you to death! Attack!"

All at once the pony soldiers stopped napping and chatting among(us)st themselves and turned their attention to Dipsy.

In response Dipsy tugged at his collar, which was Fleur's lip, as if to say "gadzooks this is awkward."