Land of Satin

Land of Satin
B_25

Spike wiggled behind the brim of a stocking, which flexed over him like a blanket, cradling him against overwhelming amounts of thigh. Smooth white wobbled behind, rocked by the footsteps below, curving to the stride of the leg, a pleasant ride that caused his back to sink into the soft flesh.

On the other side, another leg arched and strode, a magical view for the dragon.

Spike struggled with glee. Softness beat into his back from the impacts of Rarity's walk. The stocking held him tightly to ensure he felt every pounding step. There wouldn't be any moving. No chance of escape—not that he'd want to. The stocking's lacing had been done tightly.

He wouldn't slip over or under the brim. Peering over the latter, however, the dragon saw the miles of slender towers that sprawled to the ground. A red carpet stretched below like a landing strip. Rarity's black, blurry heels traversed its distance.

Around the thighs, the end of a white dress hung like a dome, a sheer fabric. It flounced in the giantess's steps, permitting a faint view of the world. Other giants stood afar as cameras flashed. None of those photographs would reveal the little dragon tucked away on her person.

Only by peering through the fabric of Rarity's dress could they see him, her thigh spilling around his shape. Squishiness layered his shoulders, and rested on his head, the mass pushing against his back, delightful softness and warmth bending and curving his spine.

Spike sighed as he looked above. Two thick thighs joined striding waist. Black panties cupped Rarity's underside, shifting and flexing, a jostle to the landscape in every footstep.

He could make out the impression of her mounds. They were concealed hills that stretched the fabric. The air buzzed with warmth and the taste of roasted strawberry. Spike imagined the inside of that paradise. To be flushed against heavenly lips in a cot of pure satin.

How the hell did I ever get here…

Rarity had a sudden fascination with clothing for dolls—miniature designs that could actually be worn. It was a few days before the auction's dinner. Spike had been at the boutique, helping with the outfits to be sold at the charity.

Spike fell on his knees to Twilight to make something. Twilight chastised him. But for such a lively outfit to work… it needed to be developed on something living. A living doll wouldn't give the required feedback. Instead, someone would have to be shrunk for Rarity's idea to work.

Hesitant, Spike volunteered. Drinking a prismatic potion, he spent a week as Rarity's inch-tall doll. Rarity was thrilled, loving to handle him, feeling his feet tap on her palms. She jiggled him between her fingers and rolled him from hand to hand—any little way she could handle the living thing.

Then came the modelling. Fingertips brushed across Spike's body, and a nail would tap him into position. Spike didn't mind. Not when the girl of his dreams could stomp a city. Or when her immense face focused on the inch that was his existence. It tickled him pleasantly.

And the day-to-day was magical.

Rarity left him on the dresser as she changed: trusting him not to peek. He'd check over his shoulder repeatedly, seeing a skirt drop from her waist, the FLOMP! of fabric striking the ground. Skin-to-scale contact felt nice.

Rarity would scoop him into a palm and bring him to her cheek, nuzzling him with a field of warmed, white fur, a plushness beneath it all. Her warmth flushed into him. A blissful embrace that would happen suddenly and last for a while.

And it was by chance that, one day, left on the dresser, which he used to run track on, that the window had been left open. It was a broad entrance to the blue, outside world. A gust of wind struck while he ran, sweeping his feet and lifting Spike into the air. It cast him over the dresser's edge—where a drawer had been sticking out.

Spike plummeted inside the darkness, crashing into frim, silky cushioning that softened the wood beneath. He rolled across something vast and neatly folded, slowing near the edge of whatever 'land' he'd been on.

Spike raised to a knee and stumbled on fabric. The inside of the drawer loomed like a narrow, empty warehouse. He could make out the back wall in the dim distance. Behind him was the front of the drawer. Light shone into the darkness, revealing the stack of dark panties.

He'd fallen into heaven.

It was a sacred place. Somewhere that existed—but that Spike would never see. Clothing rose like buildings across the landscape. Some rose higher, and others were shorter, all thinned due to being folded. Violet underwear mixed with pink and red. At the very back were the open cups of Rarity's bras.

I need to leave.

Spike needed to get out. Pretend this place never existed. It was an unknown, forbidden zone. One patrolled by a Goddess. Her footsteps rattled distantly in the boutique, roaming in search of him. She'd uncover him. Light would flash across the drawer. A hand from the sky would claim him.

Then the darkness inside Rarity's fist would become Spike's eternity.

But Spike couldn't help himself. Not when fresh raspberries enriched the wood. Even after a wash, each article couldn't remove Rarity's purity of smell. Spike stumbled forward, passing in the space between towering stacks of jade panties—ones that fit nicely on broad, white hips. They clung to feminine shapes without an extra inch.

Spike walked out of the alley into a crossing between the piled clothing. The left lane revealed the folded crotches of scarlet panties, each stacked and rising up, forcing his gaze to climb to see the top. To the right was a simple pair of violet underwear, spread and not folded, a smooth, satin landscape that asked for his feet.

He went to the panties. Its glossy texture massaged his soles. Spike carried across their surface, unable to feel the floor through their many layers. To the right was a closed leghole. Stepping into the pool, the dragon lowered to his stomach, lifting the brim of the leghole and crawling inside the underwear.

It was pure darkness with the impossible hue of purple. Fabric rustled, laying over Spike's wiggling form. Freshness emanated from the article. It was like crawling through a thin, collapsed blanket. Soon the ground transitioned from satin to latex. Spike had reached the even-thinner waistband and, turning on this back, began to relax.

Spike lay there. Tucked between the waistbands, blanketed by pinched fabrics, warmed by a cool smell. Part of him wished he could spend the day like this. Crawling through gigantic clothing. Knowing who it all belonged to. Where they had been—and to which hips they would fit to again.

Not a bad idea for a new hobby.

Spike had relaxed enough to crawl out of the band of the panties. Knees tapping across the wooden floor, he rose to see the mountainous bra looming before him. Two black, frilly domes that laid open like bowls.

The bra was a more challenging climb. His claws could prick through the material. Neither cup had the slightest lean from his weight—they were true mountains. Spike reached the top and toppled into a cup. Falling into darkness, his back smacked into something firm, sliding into the depths of the dark well.

The ride stopped at the base of the cup. Spike laid back as the article cradled him. There was a swirl of perfume in the air. Something that sweetened his nose and relaxed his lungs. Everything guided him to slumber.

Spike rolled to get comfortable, a little yawn escaping him, the warm air acting as his blanket, the curved padding of the cup becoming his bed. He nuzzled the frilly fabric covering it.

The little creature laid back in paradise. Lost inside the darkness of a bra, the article wholly containing him. It completed him on a deeper level. It would be a climb to escape this place.

Spike fell asleep. Thunder knocked on a door outside the dresser. A door squeaked, and his name was called. The goddess rumbled inside, stalking around, searching for the little rat, unable to find him. Moments later, the drawer jolted as it was pulled.

Light shone into the darkness.

It was with an "Ah-hem" that the world had ended.

Spike's eyes cracked open. His claws groped around the frilly padding. The shadow of a face replaced the blinding from above. Mane flounced like a curved streak of a purple waterfall. Annoyance burned into the surrounding air. A stern expression loomed over the drawer.

Spike awoke with a little stretch, kicking his legs and pushing out his arms, squinting to see the goddess above. The angry, scowling look of an angel overwhelmed his vision. Massive eyebrows arched in demand of an answer.

In stretching out in the bottom of a cup, the little dragon retracted into himself, suddenly becoming bashful. Sweating, he choked, clearing his throat, barely able to squeak up to the one angel who consumed the heavens with her presence.

"H-Hey, Rarity."

Rarity's sudden smile wasn't amused. "Hello to you as well, Mister Insect."

That's not the response you want to hear.

"How do you care to explain this?" Rarity asked while leaning closer, the shadow of her frame falling ominously over the drawer. Her nose's exhale swept into the cup. "Your lovely little romp through a lady's clothing? Your pleasurable nap inside an oddly shaped hotel? Hmm?"

"I-It's not like that!" Spike's minuscule words bounced off the goddess's face. Rarity's expression asked for him to try again. "Okay! It's a little like that! But I didn't mean to end up here! You left the window open, and I—"

Rarity's arm crossed over her chest, its shadow crossing over the dragon, the force felt in the air. "Are you seriously casting the blame on moi?"

"No! I'm not blaming you!" Time to be really careful with your words, Spike. "Just… the window was open, alright? Wind came in and swept me over the edge." He scrambled inside the cup, shouting from the bottom of a clothed well. "The drawer was open enough that I fell inside. And… yes! Once I got in here, I just… I lost myself, alright? I couldn't help it. You always buy the best stuff, and I just…"

He sighed and turned away from the looming face. "Look. Do whatever you need to, okay? I'm a pervert. I went through your clothes. I took a nap in your bra. You have every right to be angry. I'm just… I'm sorry, Rarity. I'm really sorry."

Rarity watched him. Hovering over his world with the ability to end it. Rarity's perfect face framed by perfect hair. There was a glint in her eyes. A new smile that seemed more dangerous than the one before.

"You're an honest little dragon, aren't you, Spikey-Wikey?"

He weakly turned back and smiled. "Only when it's a sin to lie to someone like you."

"Do you love me, Spike?"

That question destroyed his existence. Peeled away his scales to reveal the soft flesh beneath. It was an impossible task. She knew the answer already. His love casually loomed in the air.

He never confessed with words.

Just asserted it in every other possible way.

"Yes." Spike nodded softly as he lay on his side. "More than anything."

"No matter what?" Rarity's face lowered to the brim of the bra, a few inches between him and Rarity's eyes. There could be no escape. She trapped him inside. "Nothing could scare you from me? Not a single revelation that would cast that love away?"

"Nothing about you can deter me," Spike said with an odd, unknown certainty. But it was true. Nothing had broken Spike's intensity for Rarity in all their years together. "You've never put me off. Even the bad parts of you make me love you more. I just… I love you, Rarity."

He sighed and went on. "That's all I really know. That I love you."

Rarity smiled sincerely. "You speak as if I'm your true love."

"Because you are."

"And if I never return that love?"

"T-Then… t-that doesn't matter, either." Those words hurt. But they were the truth. "Loving you is enough. Being close to you is a privilege. The memory of you is all I need. It's enough. All of it… it's enough."

Spike felt like he was talking to a goddess. A deity that knew her beauty and wanted to be worshiped for it. Spike wasn't a part of the equation. Nothing. Not even his thoughts and feelings, his life as a whole, should have been an iota of concern to a girl like her.

Everything should be about Rarity.

About the perfection she cast onto the world.

Rarity's size lowered into the cup, pushing inward, filling its space until her approaching lips filled Spike's vision. Before the stunned dragon could scramble, the pair collapsed on him. Soft, warm, and fuzzy. A touch of wetness blessed his scales. It was a quick, gentle kiss that infused him with love.

Slowly, the lips raised, their breath filling the place, their giggle echoing.

With a hum, the goddess rose from the dome, resting her arms on the dresser above, coming to lean over Spike's world. Mane fell around Rarity's face. She smiled down at him with mirth.

All from kissing him.

"You're too cute for your own good, Spike," Rarity chided with a smile that could end the world. "Never let a girl know the power she has over you. She'll hold it over you completely. She'll want to see all the ways your little face can change."

Rarity then looked into his eyes. "And I love you as well. Enough to confess a wish that'll make you reconsider this."

"N-Not…" Spike choked. "…p-possible."

Rarity laughed at that before becoming lost in thought. Her blue eyes looked away as Rarity entertained an idea. A grin emerged. Something warmed the whiteness of her face as it sprawled across it. "There's no pleasant way to explain this. So I might as well indulge in your... naughtier side."

A delicate hand scooped him from the cup. It lifted before the rising frame of the lady. Pulled for a quick kiss, Spike was lowered to the drawer. The vast, empty wood made him miss Rarity's skin. Behind him, a tall mirror stood. Rarity's reflection consumed the glass. Turning around in thudding, resounding steps, Rarity bent forward, pushing out her hips, beginning to slowly pull down her designer pants.

Spike's heart raced at the display. The curved broadness of the bottom that hovered over him—that could drop worlds of squishiness onto his existence. The pants lowered to reveal the cheeks beneath. White, plush, and deliciously curved. Black underwear emphasized their perfect shape.

Kicking the pants aside, the lady turned back around, another wobble to the world, nothing but hips entertaining the dragon's vision. Broad. Round. Fuzzy ivory contained and contrasted against jade panties.

Rarity smiled from a lofty height. The dragon was a little below the curve of her panty-covered crotch.

"I'm sure it must have been delightful crawling around a lady's clothing," Rarity's voice spoke from above his vision, while hands came to rest on her hips. She leaned to the side, flexing the panties. "But should you wish it, you could simply purchase a pair and shrink down at your own leisure. No, no. That won't do."

Rarity chided. "What makes your situation truly unique is clothing that's been recently worn."

Her fingers slid underneath the waistband. Tugging out the band by the sides, the goddess twirled on her heels, revealing the bareness beneath. "How about this pair, Spikey? Would you like to crawl around in panties fresh from my hips? To feel my lingering warmth in the fabric? Imagining the skin they touched, the things they held? Have you ever dared to imagine my innermost scent?"

Rarity tugged the panties down. Sliding them down her legs and stepping out of them with ease. She loomed before the dragon with the pair in hand and, with a smile, dropped the article on him. Spike looked up to see the spread of warm darkness. It fell on him, the weight of fabric collapsing him to the wood.

The material burned. Rarity's body must have been like coals to the panties. Her heat lingered as satin weighed the dragon down. Spike laid there for a moment, forced to breathe everything in.

Rarity's scent tickled his snout. The molecules of her perfume mixed with her natural odour. Inhaling it was dangerous. It was a spice that had the touch of cinnamon on it. There was also a touch of perspiration. Not sweat—but something else.

Spike shuffled. His form made the tiniest lump in the lax fabric. Laughter sang outside the tent. Rarity must have been amused, standing naked, watching the weasel navigate her underwear.

Searching blindly for a way out.

After a few more moments, the little dragon finally crawled out the side of the fabric. It draped across his back and spines as he slipped out. Coming into the light and standing, he turned and looked for the goddess. He saw Rarity's hips to the left. Vast. Immense. And fully exposed.

Above. Rarity towered with crossed arms, smiling hungrily.

Something had amused her.

She pointed at the crotch of the panties like an owner telling a pet where to go. Gulping, the little dragon turned, carefully stepping onto her underwear. Steam nearly rose beneath his foot from the fabric. Smooth, silky flooring warmed his feet as the smell of Rarity rose around him.

Reaching the center of the panties, he turned back to the goddess, who watched him from the sky.

"Look at you! So tiny and small… stranded on a little pair of panties. So helpless! I can barely hold myself back from gobbling you up!" Rarity moaned, sucking in a lip, wanting to fall on the little one. "Would you like to be inside my panties as I slip them on? For me to pretend like no one is inside as I pull them to my waist? To go about my day as a little dragon is lost inside the world that is my bottom?"

Spike didn't—or couldn't—answer.

"Because there's a fantasy I've been wanting to indulge in as well," Rarity hummed a predatory tune. "And seeing you like this has me turned to it again." There was burning between her legs. Rarity's hand lowered to her crotch, a finger pressed on her slit, sinking between the silk, stroking up and down before the tiny boy. "I've always wanted to own someone. Have them at my beck and call. Know they are wholly dedicated to me. Subservient to me. That I am their everything."

Rarity's eyes closed as she pleasured herself.

It wasn't fair to Spike. Standing on top of recently worn panties as the goddess played with herself. It added to his arousal. That denial to the greatness before him.

"Would you be willing, Spike? To be owned? Worn like jewellery? Set in different places on my person—used to please me?" Rarity's eyes opened to him. "Could you live the rest of your life in my palm?"

Rarity then grinned. "I would let you have me. Every night in my bed and every morning in my bath. You could choose my outfits: they would be your home for the day. We'd have our fun. But your life would be focused on me. Could you live like that? Would you be willing to become mine?"

It was a hard ask. Hard… because everything inside Spike wanted it. He wanted to be worn like a necklace, thrust around in a miniature cell, hoisted over the amazingness of Rarity's chest. To be with Rarity no matter what. Hanging out on her counter as she brushed her teeth or did her make-up. To be around her, close to her, like a small pet.

And the games she promised sparked his lust.

"To admit this to another is a terrible thing to do," Rarity confessed. "But if your perversion matches mine… then, perhaps, this will work to our mutual benefit."

Spike stood there for a while. Looking up at the goddess, he couldn't help but try his luck. "And… what about me? What do I get in return?"

Rarity grinned. "Then I'll put those panties on." She leaned forward as her face loomed directly above him. "With you inside them."

Spike couldn't fight that. Couldn't deny the lust of being with the finest knockout in all the world. He nodded and agreed. Gave every indication that the lady now held his ownership. Rarity smiled at this offering. Enough to lean forward to pick up the dragon and the panties. She brought him in for another kiss. An explosion of lips spread out over him.

Her fingers then rolled him inside the open panties. Heated darkness rose around him again, as did the holes to his sides. Looking above, he saw the goddess's face blowing him a kiss. She then went on to speak. "Pick a side, Spikey."

Spike, laying back for a moment, couldn't help himself, turning and crawling to the back, scampering across the spread of satin. Rarity's eyebrow rose at his choice. "Perverted boy. Do you crave to be with my backside that much? I hope you have the strength to endure."

In the mirror's reflection, the lady lowered the underwear to her feet, slipping them through, sliding the article up her legs. The fabric slipped and spread across her cheeks. Rarity was forced to wiggle into the panties as her ass struggled inside.

Elastic snapped to her waist as the underwear conformed to her bottom. Rarity twisted in the glass, indulging in the view. With a hum, the lady strolled out of the room, a slow, extra sway to her hips, with a little dragon in tow.