Mommy's Little Girl

There are many delightful activities that one can enjoy on a dark, stormy evening, such as the one that had come to Canterlot City on an otherwise unremarkable autumn day. Younger children can often be found romping through their neighborhoods clad in heavy raincoats and boots, squealing in delight as they splash around in puddles and little streams. Older, more mild-mannered people might prefer to simply cozy up before the fireplace, a good book in one hand, and a glass of their favorite beverage in the other. Of course, if one were a hip, young teenager who preferred to spend their nights out on the town, then there would be few places better to gather at than the local mall. It was for this reason that a quintet of such young women were currently standing together before the entrance to the mall's movie theater.

“Ugh!” groaned a rainbow-haired girl by the name of Rainbow Dash. “What's taking them so long?”

“I reckon they're probably drivin' slow, on account of the weather,” said the group's resident farmgirl, Applejack.

“But the movie's gonna start in five minutes!” said Rainbow Dash, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

“Oh, do calm down, darling,” said the fabulous Rarity. “You know there's going to be ten minutes of previews before the movie even begins.”

“Yeah, but it's gonna take us that long just to get snacks!” said Rainbow Dash.

“If you're so worried about it, then go get in line right now,” said the condiment-haired Sunset Shimmer. “Or just watch the trailer again to pass the time.”

“Oh, fine,” said Rainbow Dash, begrudgingly taking her friend's advice and pulling out her phone. Soon enough, the girl's frustrated expression had turned to one of excitement as she watched the video on her screen.

Looking over her shoulder, a bespectacled Twilight Sparkle grumbled softly. “I can't help but notice the scientific inaccuracies in this,” she said. “The human body does not contain that much blood, and I'm pretty sure legs don't bend that direction.”

“Twilight,” said Rainbow Dash, sighing, “just enjoy it.”

Luckily for her, she didn't have to put up with her academically minded friend's comments for much longer, as just a few minutes later, another two girls could be seen approaching the group from afar.

“Hey, girls! We're here!” shouted out the little pink-haired ball of energy that was Pinkie Pie as she bounded her way towards the others, waving enthusiastically. Following close behind her, another pink-haired girl by the name of Fluttershy smiled and gave a much more modest wave.

“Howdy, Pinkie, Fluttershy,” said Applejack as the two new arrivals joined the group. “You two get here alright?”

“Absotutely!” said Pinkie Pie, gleefully saluting.

“I'm sorry we're so late,” said Fluttershy. “It's my fault. Some of the animals at the shelter were scared of the thunder, so I wanted to make sure they all managed to get to sleep before we left.”

“Hey, no worries,” said Sunset. “We would've waited for you. Well...most of us would have.” She cast a sidelong glance at Rainbow Dash.

Just then, Rainbow Dash's phone fell silent as the trailer she was watching came to an end. The normally energetic girl was visibly hyped up even beyond her normal levels, and had no reservations about letting her friends know it.

“Oh man!” she said, grinning widely. “This is gonna be the best movie ever! Are you guys as excited as I am?”

“Heck yeah!” said Pinkie Pie, raising her hand for a high-five, which Rainbow Dash eagerly returned.

“So...what movie did you girls choose?” said Fluttershy, her confusion visible on her face.

“Oh, that's right!” said Pinkie Pie, slapping her forehead. “They texted me while you were busy reading that kitty a bedtime story and then I forgot to tell you. We're seeing...” She turned to face Fluttershy, holding up her hands in a spooky, maniacal manner and adopting a menacing expression. “Saturday the 14th IV: Jimmy's Revenge!” A conveniently timed crack of thunder sounded as the girl finished. Her expression immediately softened again afterwards, and she giggled at her own theatrics.

“B-But...isn't that that...scary movie?” said Fluttershy, her eyes wide.

“Yes,” said Rarity, her tone betraying her lack of enthusiasm. “Not exactly my cup of tea, but...it was Rainbow's turn to choose.”

Sunset looked back at Fluttershy, seeing the timid girl's cheeks growing paler by the second. She may have had her magical geode hanging from her neck, but it didn't take a mind-reader to know exactly what was going through the other girl's head.

“Hey, now that we're all here, why don't we go get in line for popcorn?” said Sunset.

With varying degrees of enthusiasm, the girls made their way towards the concession stand. As the rest walked off, however, Sunset reached out and put a hand on Fluttershy's shoulder, stopping her.

“Fluttershy,” said Sunset quietly, “you don't have to come watch this movie with us if you don't want to. I know how you get about...stuff like this.” Glancing upwards, she caught sight of a movie poster hanging on a nearby wall and gestured towards it. “Hey, how about you and I go and see that movie instead?”

Fluttershy followed Sunset's finger to the poster, which featured a colorful, friendly advertisement for Captain Wuzzlekins' Rainbow Adventure. The girl's heart leaped upon seeing the faces of those adorable little animals, but she quickly stifled her enthusiasm, silently berating herself.

No. I can't keep doing this. I can't keep letting my fears keep me from doing things with my friends, whether it's haunted houses, Halloween stores, or...this. I'm not a little girl anymore. I can do this.

Fluttershy took a deep breath, then forced a smile onto her lips.

“Thanks, Sunset,” she said, “but I'm alright. I...I want to see this movie with you all. I really do.”

Sunset was not entirely convinced by her friend's assurance, but respected her enough not to doubt her openly.

“Well...okay,” she said. “If you're sure. But...you can always change your mind later, okay?”

“I know,” said Fluttershy, giving her friend a more genuine smile. “Now, come on! Let's go...watch that movie!” She meekly raised her fist into the air, then quickly walked off into the theater before she could change her mind.

Sunset hesitated for a moment, then followed after her, inwardly grateful that she would not have to miss the most highly anticipated cinematic gorefest of the year.

A flash of lighting arced through the air just a few miles away from a little suburban neighborhood on the outer edge of town. The accompanying boom of thunder echoed through the streets, quickly making its way to a humble house with beautiful flowers filling its front garden and an above-average number of bird feeders hanging from its front porch. At the same time, fat, heavy raindrops pounded the roof of that lovely home, sounding as loud as hailstones as they collided with the shingles. The powerful winds howled like a banshee as they swirled around it, rattling the windows of a certain bedroom.

Within that bedroom, snuggled up in her plush, warm bed and surrounded by a mountain of stuffed animals, sat Fluttershy. The room was lit by the bright, warm light of her bedside lamp, but that warmth did little to offset the mood she was in. The poor girl was visibly on-edge, her eyes as wide as saucers, her lips trembling, and her body shuddering like Twilight's did when she heard the words “overdue library book”. She clutched her covers tightly, nervously kneading the soft fabric.

It's just a movie. It's just a movie. It's just a movie. It's just a movie. It's just a mo—

A sudden crack of thunder interrupted the girl's mantra, eliciting a high-pitched squeal. She reflexively pulled her covers up to hide her face and scrunched her eyes shut, only lowering her guard again after several long moments had passed. She slowly looked around her bedroom, taking slow, deep breaths to calm herself.

“It's okay. It's okay,” she said. “There's...no such thing as...football-helmet-wearing chainsaw-murderers in real life...right Angel?”

Lying peacefully in his little bed in the corner of the room, already half-asleep, was Fluttershy's beloved pet rabbit. At the sound of his name, Angel raised his head off of his pillow slightly, gave his owner an unsympathetic look, then promptly returned to his drowsing.

Somewhat comforted by her pet's response, Fluttershy turned towards her bedside table, looking at her lamp. Aside from the multiple night lights plugged into the walls, that lamp was the only thing shielding that room from the darkness of night, a fact which she was well aware of. Despite this, she knew she would never be able to get to sleep unless she summoned her courage and switched it off.

Come on, Fluttershy. You're not a little girl anymore. You can handle it.

Gulping, Fluttershy raised a trembling hand and slowly extended her finger towards the light switch. Just as her fingertip was about to make contact, however, there came the sound of a gentle knock from her bedroom door. In her agitated state, even such a nonthreatening sound as that was enough to set the poor girl off.

“Eep!” she squealed, quickly retreating behind her covers yet again.

“Fluttershy?” called out a familiar voice as soft as silk. “Are you alright in there?”

A thick blanket of calm wrapped around the poor girl at the sound of that voice, not enough to banish her fears entirely, but enough that she was willing to emerge from behind the much more material blanket she was currently cowering behind. She took a deep breath, her cheeks burning with shame at her own cowardice.

“I'm alright, Mom,” she called out. “You can come in.”

The bedroom door was slowly opened, and through the crack was poked a face that Fluttershy knew as well as her own. It was a soft, rounded, feminine face with gentle features, framed by thick, deep red locks. A thick pair of glasses sat upon that adorable nose, behind which could be seen two beautiful eyes overflowing with love and tenderness. A set of big, full lips were stretched into a caring, yet cautious smile that put Fluttershy at ease like few other things in the world could.

“I...just came to check up on you,” said Mrs. Shy. “I know you were a little bit...shaken up when you got home earlier.”

Fluttershy put on as brave of a face as she could muster, and spoke in a clear, firm tone. “Thanks, but...I'm alright, really,” she said.

The look on Mrs. Shy's face showed that she did not entirely believe her daughter's bravado, yet she gave her daughter a supportive smile nonetheless. “Alright, sweetie,” she said. “I just wanted to be sure.”

In light of her recent attempts at bravery, Fluttershy found her mother's protectiveness mildly annoying, but at the same time, she was unbelievably grateful that she was not alone in that house that night.

“Oh! I meant to tell you: your father called,” continued Mrs. Shy. “He said that he and Zephyr are going to drive back from the hair therapy convention tomorrow morning instead of tonight. He didn't want to risk driving back in this weather, and I agreed with him. I wouldn't want something to happen to them.”

“Right,” Fluttershy agreed.

“Anyway,” said Mrs. Shy, “that means it'll be just us tonight...just us girls.” A hopeful look flashed across her face for a brief moment, disappearing when Fluttershy did not reply. “Well...I'm heading off to bed now. Are you sure there's not...anything I can do for you? Anything at all?”

You could hold me and tell me that everything's alright...that there's nothing to be afraid of.

“No thanks, Mom,” said Fluttershy, ignoring her anxious heart. “I'm good.”

“Well, you know where to find me if you do,” said Mrs. Shy. A shadow of concern passed over her friendly visage. “You will tell me if you need anything...won't you?”

“I will,” said Fluttershy.

“Promise?” said Mrs. Shy.

“I promise,” said Fluttershy.

Her words seemed to assuage her mother's concerns, as the older woman's expression softened.

“Okay,” said Mrs. Shy. “Goodnight, sweetie. I love you.”

“I love you too, Mom,” said Fluttershy.

Mrs. Shy lingered at the door for a moment longer, then slowly withdrew, pulling the door shut behind her.

Fluttershy watched her mother's face disappear, and watched the door slowly swing closed. When that door closed, she thought, she would be alone again. She would be alone with her stuffed animals, and her bed covers, and her little white rabbit. She would be alone with the wind, and the rain, and the ominous roaring of thunder. She would be alone in the darkness of her big, scary bedroom. She would be alone, just her...and the chainsaw-murderer hiding in her closet!

“Wait!” Fluttershy called out.

The bedroom door froze in place an inch before it would have closed, then was slowly pushed open again. Mrs. Shy's face reentered the room, bearing a worried look.

“What is it, sweetie?” she said.

Nothing. Tell her there's nothing wrong. Tell her to forget it and leave. Tell her you're alright. Tell her you're not afraid. Tell her you're not a little girl anymore. Tell her...

“Can I sleep with you?” blurted out Fluttershy, her mouth blatantly disregarding her mental orders.

Mrs. Shy blinked. “Sweetie?” she said.

Tell her you're joking! Tell her you're not scared to sleep alone! Tell her literally anything else!

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” said Fluttershy, her pounding heart yanking the reigns away from her brain. “Please?”

Mrs. Shy's expression slowly melted into one of profound motherly love and affection.

“Of course you can,” she said.

Mrs. Shy slowly pushed the bedroom door the rest of the way open, then slowly walked into the room. She crossed over to her daughter's bedside, smiling warmly and holding out one of her hands.

Fluttershy merely stared at the hand, her limbs waiting patiently for the silent battle between her brain and her heart to conclude. A sudden crack of thunder spurred them into action, however, and she reflexively reached out and seized the hand, barely managing to muffle her accompanying squeal. In her panic, she squeezed the hand firmly, but as she calmed, she relaxed her grip, giving that soft, warm hand the same gentle touch that it gave her.

Mrs. Shy slowly stepped back, pulling Fluttershy along with her. Fluttershy wanted to resist, she wanted to object, she wanted to tell her mother that she didn't need to be treated like a child...and yet she silently slid out from underneath her covers and stepped down onto her bedroom floor. If Mrs. Shy noticed her daughter's inner turmoil, she gave no sign of it, merely giving her that warm, motherly smile of hers as she lead her out of the room.

Fluttershy sat in her parents' bed, leaning back against the plush pillow on her side with her legs beneath the bed covers. She could still hear the sounds of the pounding rain, the whistling wind, and the occasional cracks of thunder, and could see the ominous shadows cast by the bedroom furniture in the light of her mother's bedside lamp, all of which kept her in a constant state of mild anxiety. Those weren't the only troublesome feelings running through the girl's head, however, as she also had to contend with her deep shame that had been steadily increasing as the minutes had gone by.

You scaredy-cat. No...even a cute little kitty would be braver than you. You're acting like a little girl, hiding in your mom's bed like this...acting like a baby. You're not a baby; stop acting like one!

Fluttershy glanced over at the door to her parents' walk-in closet, behind which she could hear her mother getting changed.

When she comes out, just tell her you don't need to spend the night with her. Tell her you're an adult and you don't need her to watch over you. Apologize for the trouble, then just go back to your room.

She sat there for several more moments, gathering her courage for the long walk through the dark hallway back to her bedroom. When she heard the handle of the closet door turn and saw the door slowly opening out of the corner of her eye, she turned to look at it.

“Mom, I...” Fluttershy began, trailing off as her eyes fell upon the form of her mother.

Mrs. Shy had always been a very modest woman, both in terms of her personality, and in terms of her taste in apparel. Fluttershy could hardly remember a time when she had seen her mother out in public, or even around the house, in anything more revealing than a t-shirt and a long, ankle-length skirt. Even on those rare occasions that their family spent a day at the beach together, her mother had never dared to wear anything other than a very conservative once-piece swimsuit. It was for this reason that the sight of her mother in her pajamas caught Fluttershy so completely off-guard.

A long, white, cotton nightgown clung to the woman's body, hanging from a pair of thin straps that ran over her shoulders and reaching down just past her knees. The garment was not in any way sexual, or even alluring for that matter; in fact, it was rather bland. It was not even the most revealing thing she had ever seen her wear, objectively speaking. Its high neckline did not even threaten to give a glimpse of anything beneath it, and it came up just as high in the back, showing off nothing but her shoulders and a bit of her upper back. Down below, the hemline swayed only slightly as she slowly walked into the bedroom, preserving her modesty on that front too.

It was not anything having to do with the nightgown itself that made Fluttershy stop and stare. Rather, it was the connotation of the thing, the significance of her mother wearing it before her. It was just so...intimate...to see her mother like that, see her in a way that she had probably never been seen by anyone but her husband. It was that softness, that vulnerability, that openness that drew her attention a hundred times more than anything as public as a swimsuit could have. That...as well as that which that garment contained.

Fluttershy had always known that her mother was quite...endowed...but it was one thing to know that her mother had to buy extra-large, heavy-duty brassieres to support her sizable bosoms, and another thing entirely to see those same enormous breasts covered in nothing but a sheer layer of white cotton. Her mother's nightgown was in no way form-fitting, but even so, she had no trouble whatsoever seeing the shape of those massive, heavy teardrops it concealed, each one easily bigger than its owner's head, bigger than those of any other woman in town, Fluttershy imagined. Those jaw-dropping breasts swayed gently as she walked, and jiggled ever-so-slightly with every step she took.

Fluttershy's eyes quickly traveled lower to examine her mother's lower half, which was as equally impressive as her upper half, if not more so. The set of huge, childbearing hips her mother bore could have easily let her pass for a mother of ten, rather than of two. When combined with her incredible breasts, her hips gave her a body that positively screamed “fertility”. Only accentuating the vision of womanhood she presented were the pair of thick, plump thighs she had hidden beneath her nightgown, her curvy calves, her bare feet, and finally, those two big, round, plush cushions she had attached to her backside. Fluttershy was treated to an excellent view of that posterior as her mother walked over to her vanity, allowing her to see every little wiggle and jiggle those two enormous cheeks made as she went.

Mrs. Shy stood before her vanity, facing away from Fluttershy, as she reached up and removed her earrings. After a moment had passed, and Fluttershy still hadn't continued her sentence, she did a half-turn and looked back at her daughter.

“Yes, sweetie?” she said.

Fluttershy was at a loss for words. She had plenty of them swirling around in her head at the moment, of course, but most of them were the sort of salacious words she had heard her more bawdy friends use to describe women with physiques similar to her mother's, and therefore, were not ones she could bring herself to vocalize. Her cheeks, already a shade redder than their usual coloration, grew even redder under her mother's inquisitive gaze. She quickly tore her eyes away from her mother, looking over at the innocuous dresser on the other side of the room.

“N-Nevermind,” said Fluttershy.

A look of sympathetic concern appeared on the face of Mrs. Shy, but she did not press her daughter further. After a moment, she turned back towards her vanity, resuming her task.

Fluttershy, meanwhile, was busy wrestling with the new feelings surging into her mind, further adding to the storm raging there. In addition to her lingering terror and the burning shame of her perceived immaturity, she now had to deal with the awkwardness and the strange, inexplicable allure of seeing her mother in a way she had never seen her before...and seeing her body in a way she had never seen it before. As she sat there, trying to make sense of it all, her gaze unconsciously fell, coming to rest on her own body.

She had often had the phrase “the apple doesn't fall far from the tree” hurled in her direction during family reunions and holiday gatherings, a sentiment that she had historically dismissed. After all, she had thought, she would never be able to measure up to such a sweet, caring, amazing woman as her mother, literally or figuratively. As she looked down at herself, however, seeing in her mind's eye the familiar flesh concealed beneath pajamas and blankets, she was forced to realize that such assessments might not have been so unrealistic. After all, the teen had been doing quite a lot of growing over the past few years, and so couldn't help but mentally compare her post-pubescent body with that of the one who had served as her model of femininity for her entire life.

Beneath the big, soft t-shirt Fluttershy wore hid a pair of breasts almost as huge as her mother's...almost. She and her mother had had several tender, if awkward conversations throughout her adolescence concerning her changing body, especially about the requirements of her undergarments. Fluttershy already wore the biggest-sized bras that could be bought within the city limits; should she ever have children, she would most likely have to start wearing bras as big as her mother's, if not bigger. Despite their significant weight, her breasts had always held their teardrop shape fairly well, although did sag a bit when they were without support.

Further down, hidden beneath the blanket and the pair of soft pajama pants she wore, was a set of wide hips and a bottom that was a bit too plump for her comfort. Despite insistence from certain close friends that boys, as well as some girls, found big, squishy buns such as hers to be irresistible, Fluttershy still found herself choosing to munch on carrots and celery at lunchtime, rather than on less healthy alternatives. Filling out the rest of those pants were a pair of pillowy thighs that her animal friends loved to rest their heads on, as well as some shapely calves, and a pair of feet as big and as soft as the rest of her.

All of this and more ran through the poor, confused teen's head in the time it took her mother to place her earrings down on her vanity, then walk over to her own side of the bed.

“Sweetie?” said Mrs. Shy as she lowered herself down onto the mattress.

Fluttershy looked back over at her, watching her nightgown hug the curves of her voluptuous body as she lay down, and saw her hemline slide up a bit, revealing a few tantalizing inches of her soft, juicy thighs. She quickly raised her gaze to her mother's face, seeing the look of concern there.

“Y-Yes?” she said.

“I...I just want you to know that...I'll always be here for you...even if you don't need me,” said Mrs. Shy. “It's...been hard for me to admit to myself that...you don't need me as much anymore...because I know you don't. You're not a little girl anymore, Fluttershy; I know that. I know that you're a young woman now...a strong, beautiful, intelligent, and brave young woman...much braver than me.”

“Mom...” said Fluttershy.

“But...even though you're a woman now...even though you're not a little girl anymore...you'll always be my little girl,” said Mrs. Shy. “You'll always be my precious baby. I know you...probably don't want to think of yourself like that...and you shouldn't force yourself to, but...I just don't want you to feel bad about it. I don't want you to be ashamed of...being my little girl...and I don't ever want you to think that I'll think less of you for it. I'll always love you, and I'll always respect you, whether you want to be the woman I know you are...or if you want to be my little girl.”

If Fluttershy had felt ashamed before, then she felt doubly so after hearing her mother's heartfelt words, but not because of the words themselves. Instead, she found herself in the peculiar situation of being ashamed of her own shame, looking back on her bravado and her dismissal of her emotional needs as the foolishness that it was. Additionally, the fact that her mother had seen through her so easily, seen right into her needy heart, only made her feel more foolish. Having been caught in her childishness, she did what any little girl would have done in her stead: seek comfort and forgiveness in the arms of her mother.

Fluttershy lunged at her mother, throwing her arms around her and pulling her into a tight embrace. Mrs. Shy started at the sudden contact, but quickly melted into the hug, holding her daughter lovingly and softly stroking her hair.

“Oh, Mom,” said Fluttershy, “I'm...I'm not ashamed. I'm not ashamed of...being your daughter. I...I love it...and I love you. That's why I try to be strong...try to...not be such a little girl. I don't want to be a burden...to you, or...my friends...or anyone I care about.”

“Oh, sweetie, no,” said Mrs. Shy, placing a gentle kiss on her daughter's head. “You could never be a burden to me.” She placed her hands on Fluttershy's shoulders and gently pushed her back, looking her in the eye. “I would do anything for you...in a heartbeat. I would give you anything...absolutely anything...if it would make you happy. That's what moms are for.”

Fluttershy gave her mom a shaky smile, and wiped the moisture from her eye. “I know,” she said. “I know you would..and you don't know how grateful I am for that.”

Mrs. Shy reached up and brushed the hair out of her daughter's face. “You have the rest of your life to be a woman,” she said, “and I hope that you're able to enjoy every minute of it. But...just for tonight...maybe you could enjoy...being my little girl again?”

Fluttershy sniffled, and nodded her head. “I'd like that,” she said. “I'd like that very much.”

Smiling that warm, loving smile of hers, Mrs. Shy gently pushed her daughter back, leaning her down onto the mattress. Fluttershy slid down and rested her head on her pillow, snuggling into the bed. After ensuring that her daughter had been snugly tucked in, Mrs. Shy reached up and grasped her thick-rimmed glasses, removing them and carefully placing them on her bedside table.

As her mother turned back, Fluttershy was reminded of just how beautiful her mother was. While her glasses certainly made her look adorable in a dorky, momish sort of way, seeing her face unobstructed was an entirely different experience. The image of refined, mature femininity those features projected was more mesmerizing than even her body had been.

“You're so beautiful,” said Fluttershy softly.

Mrs. Shy paused in the middle of lying down, clearly caught off guard by the comment. She quickly recovered, however, smiling down at her daughter, and even blushing slightly. “Why...thank you,” she said. “I take after my daughter.”

Fluttershy giggled softly at the joke, with her mother joining in as she laid her head down upon her pillow.

“Are you ready?” said Mrs. Shy, to which Fluttershy nodded.

Mrs. Shy reached out and flicked the switch of her lamp, plunging the room into darkness. Fluttershy didn't even quiver, however, as she could still make out the angelic face of her mother in the gloom. When Mrs. Shy rolled back over, she leaned forward, placed a hand on her daughter's cheek, and planted a warm, loving kiss on her forehead.

“Goodnight...my baby,” she whispered as she withdrew.

“Goodnight...Mommy,” whispered Fluttershy.

As the two closed their eyes, Fluttershy reached out and grasped one of her mother's hands, giving it a gentle squeeze that her mother swiftly returned.