> Royal Radiance
>  by Non Uberis
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Part 1: Rising
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was another lovely Canterlot morning.

After raising the sun, Celestia settled in for a hearty breakfast, relishing in every bite, not merely because of its taste as much as the knowledge that she had made it herself. She knew that, although popular approval ratings had never dipped below ninety percent in more than a century, there were those ponies who sneered at the royalty of Equestria for leading such pampered lives in their gilded palaces, and so she endeavored to do as much as she could without burdening others. The resources she used were all sourced directly from her personal stock, grown in her gardens, going so far as grinding her own flour. She even had a private supply of milk. There were plenty of recipes she could try, with new ones sneaking in every other month or so, but she found that could never go wrong with pancakes drizzled with syrup and an assortment of fruit on the side.

So she had her meal served, and she had a serene smile on her face while she ate and skimmed over the newest document that had been sent to her desk (today it was a proposal for new development in the Badlands; she would have to cross-reference the treaties for buffalo territory before coming to a decision).

And then Luna entered the room.

Both alicorns were tired in some way in the morning, but in different senses. In Celestia’s case it was the grogginess that came from a full night’s sleep, largely shaken off by the time she had finished cooking. Luna, on the other hand, was at the end of her nocturnal working shift, and thus was showing telltale signs of exhaustion. Today she was carrying herself with some degree of poise, but the sisters knew each other well enough that the signs were easily discerned: a distinctly listless expression, wings hanging slightly askew instead of folded against her back, and the stars in her mane faded. She wordlessly sat down in the seat across from Celestia, where there was another plate of pancakes for her—dinner in her case, technically speaking.

The elder sister said, “Good morn—”

There was a commotion, shifting and clattering. Luna’s placid expression turned to one of frustration as she glanced down at herself. She had her hands on the arms of her chair, gripping tightly (there were grooves forming in the old wood from how many times her fingers had dug into it), grunting while she wriggled her hips. The chair creaked ominously when she bounced upward and awkwardly pulled its feet inward so she could be in the proper position at the table. Once she was in place, she grumbled, brushing at her starry mane, and turned her attention to the pancakes in front of her.

“…Good morning, Luna,” Celestia spoke again, with no small amount of unease, the pleasure of her meal having been forgotten. “I apologize sincerely if you had an unpleasant night. Is there anything you wish to—”

“Why are all the chairs in the palace so small?” Luna interjected in the middle of wolfing down chunks of syrupy dough.

Celestia stared and blinked for several seconds before she responded, “What?”

“The chairs, Sister,” Luna repeated, and she rapped her knuckles on one of the arms of her seat, “the things we park our posteriors in.”

“I know what a chair is, Luna.”

“Do you?” She snorted. “I am not certain that you do. I would wager that there is not a single adequate chair in this whole palace! The whole night I had to go from one conference to the next, and no matter where I went it was the same thing: miniscule seats that make me feel like I am squeezing myself into a thimble!”

Still Celestia stared, but this time her eyes narrowed. Suddenly she understood what this was really about. “Well, Lulu,” she asserted, “perhaps you wouldn’t be facing these struggles if you weren’t so gung-ho about the pancakes.”

“Do not even start with me on that, Tia,” Luna snarled back, jabbing her fork toward her, “need I remind you that you have been eating like royalty for a millennium while I was stranded on the moon. With how much cake you scarf down on a daily basis—”

“I have been cutting back on the sweets, thank you.”

“—I am quite frankly astonished that your tits are not filling the entirety of the reception hall.”

With a scoff, Celestia crossed her arms over her substantial chest, the mass cushy and soft through the silky fabric of the robe she wore. “My breasts are my business, Lulu, just as your fat bottom is yours.”

“You say that as if they are not a vital part of your cooking. I wonder if that is part of the reason that we are even having this problem.” Luna practically inhaled the rest of her breakfast before standing. The chair came with her, wedged into place, and she had to shove on it to extricate herself from its clinging embrace. She turned and left the dining room without another word, and Celestia saw that the ethereal miasma of her tail wasn’t nearly enough to obscure the bulk of her rear, hips and thighs broader than her shoulders, the shape of her buttocks outlined by the draping skirt of her dress.

The elder alicorn sighed and slumped back in her not-nearly-so-undersized chair. She looked downward, and her view was quickly taken up by her chest, the mounds filling her robe to its limits. The hem was parted slightly to reveal a valley of cleavage between the alabaster globes. She had grown so used to them, there were days when she didn’t think about how endowed she was—how she couldn’t fit her breasts in her hands, how she couldn’t see her stomach or hooves, how she continued to lactate despite not having been pregnant in decades. She felt no need to be ashamed of herself (though she did on occasion wonder what affect her buxomness had on that ninety percent approval rating).

It had always been like this, even since before the banishment. Just as sun and moon were opposites of each other, the two sisters had been physical opposites, their metabolisms working in clear opposing trajectories. Celestia had found herself blessed with a bosom that any mare would be envious of, while Luna instead developed a voluminous rear that hypnotized stallions (and mares) with its swaying. It was undeniable that the two of them were among the most beautiful ponies in all of Equestria, but it was rare that either of them would act especially nasty toward the other about their appearance.

Well, Luna had, as Nightmare Moon, vowed to bury Celestia underneath her ass, but that was a different time.

“Mmm…I should see about getting some new seats for the palace,” she mused to herself, “it can’t be a terribly unreasonable thing to do for Luna.”

And yet, there was a nagging voice at the fringe of her consciousness reminding her that it was a fruitless endeavor, for surely it would only be a matter of time before these new furnishings too were outgrown.

Celestia did her best to ignore those thoughts while she finished her breakfast, bosom rising into the lower periphery of her field of view as she looked down at the plate. Enough time had been wasted, she needed to get on with her business for the day. Though she didn’t leave without refilling another bottle with milk for tomorrow. It felt good to relieve the pressure behind her nipples.


= = = = =


Celestia did not see Luna for the rest of the day. Unsurprising, given that she would have in all likelihood retired to her quarters for the final hours before she went to sleep, but still there was some lament to be had. The more time went by, the more Celestia regretted how tersely she had behaved during their meeting and wished she could apologize. It wasn’t her fault that Luna’s butt was so big, and really it wasn’t her own fault either, it just happened to be the way that her body functioned.

In anticipation of her sister’s reawakening, she had endeavored to do as much as she could to show how much she intended to make it up for her. A lavish dinner of Luna’s favorite meals had been prepared, Marediterranean salad and seafood platters, the finest wine from the palace vaults, and pizza (she had grown quite fond of it in the time since her return). Celestia had fought with herself not to include any cake, purely as a show of good will. And, most importantly, there had been a prototype chair made on rush order, lacking the ornate decoration that would be expected of palace furnishing for the time being, but it was wide and sturdy enough to support a bottom-heavy alicorn.

So Celestia waited in the private dining room, determined not to begin eating before her sister arrived, even as the minutes ticked by like sweat running down her brow. She could be certain that Luna was awake, as the moon had been raised on time, but she was particularly late in arriving. Had she really taken what was said earlier to mind and decided to fast so she could slim down? Another pang of regret. Celestia truly didn’t want her to slim down, she figured that if the younger alicorn had stayed this way for so long then surely she must enjoy it.

“Maybe she got stuck in a doorway,” she muttered to herself. She promptly burst into a fit of giggles at her own humor, unable to help herself. The image of Luna trapped in the frame of a door because of the breadth of her own bottom was simply too funny.

And then Luna’s voice called out, pleasant and good-natured, “Good evening, Tia.”

Celestia looked up. She froze. She blinked. She was still seeing the same thing.

The blue alicorn’s hips were filling the doorway from one side to the other, more than twice the breadth she had been the last time she saw her. Each thigh was a massive slab of flesh thicker than her torso, tapering down gradually toward the knees and calves. The thick legs were fully on display too with the dark Neighjing dress that she wore, cut on either side so that their full length was visible.

“It is not like you to stare, Sister.” Luna’s mirthful teasing brought Celestia out of her thoughts and she looked up again. There was nothing so venomous about her visage this time. She was smiling contentedly. Meanwhile, Celestia became conscious that her jaw was hanging agape like a fish out of water.

Luna stepped through the doorway, only a brief moment in which she snagged against the edges. She strode forward with the kind of poise and elegance that was typical of her, even though the swinging arc of her hips was so much greater than before. Celestia didn’t want to stare, but it was quite difficult to do so. There was something bubbling up inside her and she wasn’t entirely certain what it was, but she didn’t think that she liked it.

When Luna came to the new chair that had been set out for her, she asked, “What is this?”

“O-oh, it’s…I was going to get new chairs made for you,” Celestia replied weakly.

“Oh, I see.” Luna chuckled softly. “Quite thoughtful of you, Sister, thank you. I believe that I have a simpler solution, though.” She then reached over (pushing out her protuberant ass in the process) and unceremoniously ripped off one arm of the chair. After that, she brought over the old chair that had been sitting there and did the same thing to that for the opposite side. She finally sat down on both chairs at once, one for each cheek. “Much better.”

The younger alicorn’s eyes roved over the spread on the table, lighting up with glimmers of excitement at what she saw, but then she seemed to have an epiphany and she turned her attention toward the mare on the other side of the table again. “So I assume you must be wondering what has transpired,” she said plainly.

“…Yes, you could say that,” Celestia replied, suddenly feeling dry in her throat.

“Well, what you said last morning really got me thinking.” Luna’s horn lit up and began piling heaps of pasta onto her plate while she spoke. “I must admit I was quite incensed for a while. I had more trouble going to sleep than I usually do. The audacity of the idea that I was at fault for merely desiring to live my life to its fullest…” She shook her head and grimaced, and there was a particularly forceful splat of red sauce across her plate. Celestia winced.

“But then…” she sighed as she continued, “I stopped and really thought about it all. Why was I ashamed of being the way I was? Did I not enjoy being so curvaceous?” There were creaking sounds from her chairs as she wriggled her hips and ground her buttocks into them. Her muzzle was forming into a smile once more. “No, this is exactly the way I always wanted to be. So why not simply…embrace it? Why not take it to its fullest potential? So I did just that. Thank the stars I still had a dress that could fit me, but I’ll need to see about some wardrobe adjustments in the future.” She chuckled as she began to eat.

“I…o-okay,” Celestia stuttered. Her hands were gripping tightly to the armrests of her own chair; she didn’t know when her nails had started digging into the wood. She found herself looking down at her chest, a chest which she knew was inordinately large compared to the commonponies of Equestria, and yet now suddenly seemed so very small. “B-but…how…how did you…manage to…”

“Come now, Tia, we are civilized adults,” Luna admonished, though still cheerfully, playfully, “just spit it out.”

After a few seconds of feeling as if her lips were glued together, Celestia managed to say, “How did you make your ass bigger?”

To which Luna responded, with a roll of her eyes, “Magic, quite obviously. Is it truly such a surprise? We are alicorns, Celestia, we are capable of nearly anything our hearts desire. You could figure it out in an hour or two, easily. We could find a way to make all of Canterlot super-sized if we worked together, I bet.” She gave a snort of laughter. “One step at a time, though.”

But Celestia was hardly listening at that point. She could barely even think about dinner, while Luna got to work devouring the meals that had been laid out for her. She didn’t know why she hadn’t considered the applications of body-altering magic before. Could it really be so simple? It sounded too good to be true, but she also couldn’t find any reason to think otherwise. She was an alicorn, one of the most powerful wielders of magic in the whole world, she ought to be capable of whatever she desired.

Dinner came and went. Celestia offered her apologies to Luna, which she accepted while also confessing her own regret for behaving so rashly. She tried not to stare at the mare’s rump swaying from side to side when she left. The Sun Princess retired to her own quarters for the night, but just as her sister had been she too found herself not tired in the slightest. She stripped from her clothes and gazed at her reflection in a full-length mirror in her boudoir. She cupped her hands just barely at the undersides of her breasts, pale mounds hanging to just over the ridge of her abdomen. There were many aspects of her visage that defined her: her billowing rainbow mane, her tall horn, her broad wings, the suns imprinted on her shapely hips. The breasts, though, at this particular moment they were what mattered the most.

But they were lacking.

That was simply unacceptable.

The mare’s horn lit up with a golden aura that filled the room like a miniature sun—distantly she heard Philomena squawking at her, having been woken up. A similar aura manifested around her chest, seeping into her bosom. She barely knew what she was doing, but she thought that it couldn’t be hard. She reached into herself, suffusing her flesh with her magic, though it took some concentration to do it in a way that wasn’t merely physical; the first attempt merely resulted in squeezing herself at random angles. Her heart filled with warmth and her pulse quickened, but it was joined by heat in her loins. She breathed heavily, clutching at her chest.

“Bigger…” she gasped, a sound that was barely more than a squeak, “bigger…!”

The weight in her palms amplified.

Celestia groaned while she staggered away from the mirror, but she hazily continued channeling her magic. She understood now: pouring mana reserves back into her body, converting it into mass. And, indeed, as an alicorn, there was a lot inside her, the floodgates held wide open. While she sprawled upon her bed, she kept her hands cupped over her pale-yellow nipples, the bare flesh expanding while also stiffening. Milk was gushing freely from within her, trickling over the slopes of her breasts like lava flowing down a volcano. She felt the fire in her loins begging for satisfaction, but she couldn’t tend to that, she was far too preoccupied with her nipples. The mattress squealed as she squirmed and rocked, gasping and crying with throes of passion. It was so terribly intense, blinding her with stimulation.

For the time being, she didn’t care about how big she was. She only cared that she was becoming bigger. She grasped her breasts tightly within her embrace, even as they fought to escape it, their girth outstripping the reach of her arms. She squeezed at her nipples until she felt the rush of climax upon her, and in the calm that followed, lying still and limp upon her bed, she felt their weight upon her, crushingly huge, reassuringly huge.

Yes, she was ready to embrace herself to the fullest.


= = = = =


“It does look quite nice on you, Sister…but…”

Celestia’s gaze immediately snapped to meet with her sibling’s. “But what?” she asked with an affronted edge scarcely concealed.

Luna pursed her lips. “Please, do not mistake me, I am quite glad for your decision to go through with this, Tia, I had hoped that you would join me in reveling in enormity. It is just that, well…now that it is upon us, I cannot help realizing that your position is just a tad…impractical.”

The elder alicorn quirked an eyebrow skeptically. “Impractical how?”

“Celestia.” Luna leveled an equally skeptical stare at her, crossing her arms over her front. “Your robe can’t even be closed anymore.”

It was true. The bathrobe which Celestia had worn comfortably the day before was now left far open in front of herself. There was no possible way it could have hoped to conceal the entirety of the beach ball-sized globes which extended from her chest, heavy teardrop mounds which had now obliterated any view of her torso save for the groin. It was a miracle that the lapels could just barely conceal her nipples, a sliver of bare yellow flesh visible amid the white coat, though the sash which she was using to wrap around her bosom and tie it in place didn’t look like it was going to hold for very long. The cool morning air was seeping in to waft at her skin as it rolled over the mountain slopes of Canterlot.

Celestia groaned. “Very well, so I am a tad indecent. Is it really such a troubling matter? I will have new dresses tailored by the end of the week, until then I will simply decree that it is a matter of royal importance that I perform my duties in private, so as to avoid causing undue panic among the masses.”

“Panic?” Luna smirked. “You think there will be outrage if we show ourselves as we are now?”

After a moment’s thought, Celestia grinned back. “Probably some, unavoidably, from those snobbish puritanical sorts. Maybe not so much, though. I imagine quite a few would be stirred into a very different kind of frenzy.”

“Oh yes, I am certain of that. I showed myself to a mare in a dream last night, and can you guess what she did?” She nudged the side of Celestia’s bosom, elbow sinking into the pliant flesh. “She asked if I could sit on her.”

The mare burst into a fit of giggles, and her sister soon followed. Beanbag breasts and buttocks wobbled gelatinously in the process. “Did you do it?” Celestia eventually managed to ask, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

Luna shook her head. “Alas, she woke up before I could commit to the deed. Must have been quite flustered.”

“I’ll bet.” But Celestia wasn’t thinking much about that nameless mare anymore. She was looking to the side at the broad swell of Luna’s hip, the black splotch and crescent moon stretched over its surface. It pushed outward more than half a meter, a broad shelf jutting toward her. How soft that cushy surface must be…

“Too bad,” Luna mused while leaning over the balcony banister, “I would have been quite glad to satisfy her. Perhaps another will appear to me soon. I am certain that most ponies in Equestria would be delighted to have some personal time with my rump.”

It was an innocuous statement. And yet it remained repeating itself over and over in Celestia’s brain long after Luna had left to retire to bed.

“Most ponies in Equestria?” she asked herself. The implications and questions wouldn’t leave her be. Never before had Celestia so dearly wished that she could have walked through dreams like her sister did and showed herself to ponies in the realm of sleep, where all things were possible.

The warmth of the rising sun seemed so distant all of a sudden.

But there was a different kind of warmth inside the alicorn, one which she summoned from the depths of her being.

She didn’t particularly give a damn who saw her as she pawed at her nipples through the strained fabric of her robe, steadily dampening as milk leaked through it.


= = = = =


Luna always woke with enough leeway that she could have some time devoted to personal efforts before she had to begin her duties for the night. She stood in front of a mirror that was far more crowded than it had once been, the glass surface scarcely containing the full breadth of her lower half. She placed her hands upon the crescent moon marks and squeezed inward, relishing the sensation of flesh compressing, just for a moment before she focused on the task at hand.

The shorts that she squeezed herself into had been rather comically small before, but now the elastic was stretched to its absolute limit, digging into her sensitive skin, riding high into the crack of her nethers. It was far from comfortable, and probably not conducive for her in the long run, but it made her loins tingle and it amused her, and what was more important than that? If anypony told her that it was inappropriate then she could tell them respectfully to shut their mouths and turn the other cheek. After putting on a matching sports bra and tank top and tying her starry mane into a ponytail, she was ready to make her way down to the palace gym—perhaps she could cajole Celestia into joining her sometime, give the guards a healthy helping of both the upper and lower halves.

Speaking of the guards, though, there were oddly few of them out and about. After descending the stairs from her observatory, she found nopony standing outside the entrance as there should have been. Luna’s chest promptly filled with a righteous fury; it may have been true that Equestria was presently at peace, but that was no excuse for negligence, and she would see that the guards in question were duly reprimanded. But that proved to only be a prelude for what was to come, as she discovered that the halls of the palace were deserted, not a soul to be seen as she made her way. She would normally take a leisurely jog on a circuitous path, taking stock of the palace in the process, jiggling and bouncing all the while, but on this day she was led to the discovery that seemingly everypony had abandoned their posts.

Just as she was beginning to ponder if she should raise an alarm, she spotted a pony scampering off down a corner ahead of her. “You there!” she called out, her voice booming in the vaulted halls, “Where is everypony?!”

But, to her astonishment, they didn’t even turn her way, only kept going, disappearing around the corner.

Luna was aghast, a tad hurt, and more than a tad annoyed at the idea that somepony could deign to ignore the gyrations of her hips. This would merit far more severe punishment.

She came to the corridor, and she was met with the answer to her dilemma: thronging crowds of palace guards and servants spread throughout the hall. The alicorn was puzzled, but then after a few moments it occurred to her just where in the palace she was, and what room lay just ahead. Her brow furrowed and she muttered under her breath, “Just what has she been up to while I slept?”

There was not a care in the world to be had as Luna strode ahead. She made little effort to weave around the crowds of ponies, instead plowing through them. Being nearly a head taller than the average adult pony, she had no difficulty seeing over them, but her rump was effective for bumping anypony foolish enough to stand still out of her way, swinging this way and that like a battering ram. There were gasps of alarm, but she dimly heard far more exclamations of shock and amazement.

“Wait, that’s Luna?”

“When did she…?”

“Holy shit, that ass…”

She scarcely paid that any mind. She was focused on the door that was flanked by two guards in golden armor, Celestia’s retinue. As she approached, they stood to attention, prepared to rebuke her, only to then promptly falter, both of their gazes listing downward. “P-Princess Luna…?” one stammered.

“Stand aside,” she ordered, a powerful force behind her voice even though she didn’t truly yell. She was already reaching to step past them before they reacted.

“N-no, wait, you can’t—!”

“I may see my sister whenever I please!”

And then she threw the doors to Celestia’s office open.

The mare with the rainbow mane turned to face her immediately. The ponies who were preoccupied with massaging her breasts did not do so. The pale globes seemed larger than any of them, nearly eclipsing their own owner, reaching to hang just at her knees. Milk gushed from the nipples at their far ends, pouring into two vats on the floor; there were more that were already full, others waiting to be filled.

“Oh…Luna…!” Celestia had a sheepish smile on her face. “You’re awake! I…wasn’t expecting to see you until dinner…I was just…trying to shore up the castle’s milk supply for the next month!”

The blue alicorn was hardly listening to her, though. She had her attention upon the ponies who were attending to her sister’s breasts—two for each, one on each side, three stallions and one mare. They were in varying states of undress, and they seemed to be quite engrossed in kneading and groping and pressing up against the pliant flesh. At least, that is, until Luna passed over them, staring at each of them one by one in the way that a disappointed teacher might reproach a misbehaving student. One particularly ashamed-looking stallion she recognized, and he hadn’t helped his case by still wearing the blue helmet that had been part of his uniform.

“So, Sister,” Luna barked gruffly, “you were quite enamored with the idea of having bigger breasts, hmm?”

“L-Luna, I…” Celestia now looked most ashamed of all, but there was still a heavy blush on her face. Her hands were firmly pressed to the sides of her bosom, squeezing the doughy mass, applying pressure in a steady gentle rhythm. “I…I just loved how it felt, getting…bigger. You…you understand how it feels, yes?”

“I do understand,” Luna replied sternly. “I understand that you thought it prudent to steal all the ponies of the castle for yourself! Again!”

That made the mare really balk. “What?! N-no, it’s…it’s not like that at all, Luna! It’s not like…l-last time!”

“Is it not, Celestia?!” The ponies who had been tending to Celestia now huddled against her as Luna seethed, a terrible aura manifesting around her. Even her enormous bottom and thighs could not detract from the intensity of the arcane power which enveloped her. “I thought you would have learned! I thought you finally understood! Now I see I was mistaken all this time! There’s only one thing I can do!”

And then she placed her hands on her hips. All at once, the magic flowed back into her, and in an explosive surge her bulk doubled upon itself. The elastic shorts she had been wearing gave up instantly, snapping apart, and the release of that tension added an additional fit of bouncing to her girth. The alicorn’s hips and buttocks now formed a shelf all around herself, flaring dramatically outward from a waist that was still trim and fit. Forget chairs; she would have to start looking into couches to sit upon with that kind of width.

Celestia could only stare, dumbstruck. The ponies around her were terrified, but nonetheless aroused. Quite a few more were crowding around the open doorway, staring at one alicorn or the other, or alternatingly both.

Taking note of her audience, Luna looked back over her shoulder, and she bore a savage grin as she asked, “What do you all think?” She shook her ponderous hips from side to side, buttocks wobbling, and then she punctuated it with a sharp slap to one cheek. “Ravishing, would you not agree? Does my rear not fill you with temptation?”

Celestia interjected, “L-Luna, you can’t—!”

“Yes!” somepony shouted in the background, which was then met with a small chorus of similar assertions.

“Now see here!” Now Celestia forced herself forward. The slightest movement caused her bosom to shake tremulously, swinging in pendulous arcs. The ponies who had been caught up in her flesh tripped and stumbled. “You can’t just rile up our subjects into a frenzy like this!”

“And is that not exactly what you have done, Sister?!” Luna hissed back at her accusingly, returning with an angry glare.

“Of course not!”

“It certainly looks like that to me!”

“Well maybe you should try getting your head out of that fat ass of yours so you can think clearly!”

“Maybe you should plug up your leaking tits before you flood the whole castle!”

Horns flared. Their magic was not focused outward but inward. They were on a hair trigger. The ponies watching were torn between ducking for cover and rubbing one out.

Celestia faltered. “N-no, wait.”

But Luna sneered at her, planting her hands on her hips.

“STOP!”

A burst of force rippled through the air like a supersonic wave. Papers and folders flew up chaotically and bins fell over, along with several of the onlookers. Luna flinched and staggered but remained standing. Celestia huffed, panting, slumping forward, her immense bosom that much closer to making contact with the floor. “This…this is pointless,” she muttered, and when she faced her sibling her eyes sparkled with sincerity, “we can’t go on like this, Lulu.”

Luna remained on guard for several seconds, poised for retaliation, but gradually she allowed herself to ease her posture, wings folding against her back, horn dimming. She still stayed silent, staring expectantly.

“I’m…I’m sorry, Sister,” the elder alicorn admitted, “I just couldn’t help myself…I wanted…more.”

Eventually, Luna heaved a slow sigh, and she smirked. “It does feel quite good, does it not?”

“Y-yes.” Celestia gave an awkward smile while staring down at the vast canyon of cleavage that extended from her front. She chuckled nervously. “It’s…quite stimulating.”

“That is very apt.” Luna placed her hands on her thighs and slowly traced around the circumference of her breadth, as far as she could reach (which wasn’t very far). “But we cannot allow this to get the better of us. We must not let it come between us.”

Celestia nodded, and, just faintly, there were tears in her eyes. “I would never let that happen, Sister.”

“Nor would I.”

“Your…your butt is quite nice.”

“As is your bosom, Sister.”

They moved to embrace each other. That is, until coming to the mutual discovery that there was a sea of breast between them. They tried turning to the side, but now there was a vast swathe of buttock and thigh getting in the way. They finally had to come in at an angle, Luna leaning into the side of one breast while Celestia ground against the front of one thick leg. But, all the same, embrace they did, nuzzling gently into each other’s warmth, smiling.

A guard sniffled and wiped at his eyes. “So beautiful…! I love happy endings!”

The serving mare beside him scoffed. “As if. Did you see how horny those two were, and how hard everypony was simping for them? There’s no way this is gonna last.”


= = = = =


And, indeed, it did not last.

“Dearest…Sister…” Luna muttered to herself while she scribbled the words on the slip of paper. The words didn’t quite resemble what she was saying, though, let alone her usual neat cursive handwriting. It might have had something to do with the fact that she was standing hunched over her desk instead of sitting; it wasn’t like her chair could accommodate her at this point. It probably had more to do, though, with the occasional spasms that rocked through her, prompting her to gasp as she wriggled her hips.

“I apologize profusely for…reneging on our…agreement.” She bit her lip, swallowing a moan. “I truly did not…wish to do anything that would…sour the relationship between us or…our ponies…I simply…could not resist…”

But then she gasped as her whole body shook and the quill slipped from her fingers. Her knees nearly buckled and she grasped at the edge of the desk for support. Had there been anypony in the bed chambers with her, they would have been treated to a fantastic view of her rear sticking out behind her, moons that lived up to her title quite well. “Just…just a little more,” she gasped, a giddy smile across her muzzle and a blush on her cheeks.

The alicorn stood and tenderly placed her hands upon her hips, kneading into the silky fur and pliant surface. The touch was so delightfully tantalizing. And that was before her horn sparked and sent magic coursing through her fingers and into her rump. Her wings fluttered and twitched as she traced along her enormous breadth, around the thighs and back up over the cheeks. As she did so, the surface pushed back against her ever so subtly, swelling and pulsing. Another few centimeters’ worth of padding. Just to be safe.

But she wasn’t done after that. She felt so good, so energized. Her palms continued to rove across the surfaces of her hips and buttocks while she shimmied and shook in a swaying, undulating dance. One might have been forgiven for thinking that she was a performer at a gentlecolts’ club in Canterlot rather than a princess. She didn’t have an audience, but she did have plenty of mirrors. There was yet to be a single mirror in the palace that could adequately contain her reflection, so she had made do by having multiple angles, spread out all around her, so she could glance this way and that at herself to see the way her tree trunk legs shook with every step. She cried in delightful ecstasy, juices drooling between her thighs.

When Luna had had enough, panting and gasping, she turned back to her letter, only to discover that she couldn’t for the life of her recall the train of thought she had been on. She stared at the paper for several long seconds, pondering, but in the end all she could do was sigh lamentably. “No, I cannot cower behind a mere letter,” she grumbled as she steeled herself, “I must speak to her directly.” She felt some shame at herself, in the way she could no longer see the far sides of her hips and thighs, in the way she trembled and quaked, in the way her hooves stomped with every step, in the way she was at all times conscious of her size. And yet at the same time all that served to please her, to encourage her, to arouse her, and that explosive cocktail was far more important. “We ought not to fight each other over these trifling matters,” she muttered whilst glancing around at her reflections one after another, “we ought to enjoy ourselves.”

So she left her room to seek out her sister.

Well, it was easy enough to say that, but the actual process was far more involved than that. The expansive spaces of the royal palace no longer seemed quite as capacious as they had once been, as Luna could scarcely walk anywhere without bumping into something. Furnishings toppled over left and right as she swung about, still not accustomed to the additional girth that she was carrying. There came the sound of Tiberius squealing from somewhere when the shadow of the moons passed over him, threatening a total eclipse. And doors were an almost fruitless endeavor; she had to turn to the side and shimmy her way through, and even then her rump was still grinding against the edge several feet behind her while her chest and stomach were squeezing into the side in front of her.

And then she came to the corridor, and her devoted were waiting for her.

“Princess!” a chorus of voices called as all at once they came to her. There were a couple dozen ponies eagerly looking at her—three more than there had been before the last time she retired to her room. Most of them were from the Night Guard, but a few of them were other palace servants. They showed their support for her by not wearing anything over their lower halves: no pants, no skirts, and certainly no underwear. The stallions were quick to show their approval for her decision to plump herself up again. Hands were reaching for her, feeling her soft mass, prying at the patches which had stretched beyond her reach. She allowed herself to revel in this exultation for just a minute. Or two. Or five. She lost track.

“Thank you, thank you all,” Luna replied to them, easing them down, “please, though, I must not dilly-dally. Is anypony aware of Celestia’s location?”

That got them to shut up right away, shooting each other anxious and wary looks. Eventually one mousy stallion said, “I think I last heard she was in the dining hall.” His expression hardened somewhat as he then asked, “What do you care about seeing her for?”

“‘Tis nothing, my little ponies,” Luna replied with a smile, and while she passed through the crowd she brushed against that stallion with her hip, a hip that completely smothered him. It was intended to be a gentle motion, but either due to underestimating her strength or the stallion suddenly going weak at the knees in the process he suddenly slumped over, listing out of consciousness. “I simply wish to speak with her.”

Luna made her way down the passages of the palace, a single pony taking up nearly the entirety of a path which once could have accommodated several ponies standing shoulder-to-shoulder. She passed by a number of other ponies who were going about their business, and they offered her varying reactions. There were those who still reeled in disbelief at the state of affairs that had overtaken the palace. There were those who had the fortitude to go about business as if nothing had happened. There were those who were more sympathetic to her cause even if they had not fully aligned with her, a tad more enthusiastic in acknowledging her. There were those on the opposite end of the spectrum who regarded her with unease.

And there was one mare who wasn’t wearing a top, letting her breasts hang freely. They saw each other, and she promptly flinched, nearly jumping out of her hooves, fur bristling. Luna looked at her impassively even as she trembled, staring back with a mixture of terror and resentment. “Good day,” she said in the stern authority that had once been her norm, not the saccharine warmth that she had allowed for her devoted, “I am searching for Celestia, do you know where she—”

The mare turned and ran without a word.

Luna heaved a long sigh. “Very well.”

The alicorn managed a more concerted movement, jogging down the hall after the topless mare. It wasn’t too difficult, and it only had the effect of causing priceless vases and statues to go toppling over in her wake while the floor was marred with webbed networks of cracks. Her buttocks bounced upward behind her with each pumping step, rising as high as her head at the apex of their arc.

And, indeed, she found herself at the dining hall. She could tell Celestia was here because her retinue was spilling out from the room. There were considerably more of them than there had been among the crowd waiting at Luna’s bedroom. She took a deep breath and swallowed the urge to be bitter about that. It wasn’t going to matter anymore soon; she and Celestia would settle their differences and put this behind them.

She cordially requested passage through—many of these ponies actively gave her a wide berth, backing away from her as she approached—and made her way inside. Celestia was there, at the long table; she had to sit at an angle so she could reach her plate where there was another cake in the process of being devoured. There was a brief moment of the two of them staring at each other in which Luna thought that she saw a perfect reflection of her own face in Celestia’s expression: blank, stunned into shock. A host of yet more ponies were surrounding her, bearing amenities should they be requested, or massaging her sprawling bosom.

Her bosom which was now unquestionably larger than it had been the last time they saw each other, gargantuan mounds which each looked wider across than a pony was tall.

The train of thought that had been running strong in Luna’s mind was derailed quite promptly.

“What have you done?!” she shouted.

“What have I done?!” Celestia repeated in disbelief, “What of yourself, Sister?! What have you even done to yourself, have you looked in a mirror lately?!” She extended one hand and swept it out broadly, gesturing to the whole of the younger alicorn, and she sneered and scoffed. “Did you honestly believe that have a couple boulders grafted to your rear would be appealing?”

“Yes, in fact, I did, thank you very much!” Luna scowled back, and she planted her hands on her sloping sides while gyrating her hips. “And I’ll take my boulders any day over a couple of leaking zeppelins!”

She left, not caring when her swaying motions sent some ponies flying in the process.

That was when matters really got out of hand.
> Part 2: Waxing
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Luna yelped as she slipped, the vertiginous pull of gravity abruptly exerting its hold over her; her wings snapped out on reflex, but it wouldn’t be enough to catch her.

This was something that could have had unfortunate consequences, given that most of the floors in the palace were made of smooth and unforgiving marble. Falling backward could result in injuries to one’s tailbone and pelvis. Falling forward was not much better, with injuries to the face if the angle was just right and there wasn’t enough done to blunt or divert the impact, actions which themselves could result in injury.

But in reality, she barely even fell at all, immediately landing upon the cushiness of the mass behind her. The alicorn sank into a mattress of her own flesh, blue and black hills rising around her. Nevertheless, her heart was pounding in her throat, her breath harsh and staggered, and her legs were trembling when she tried to stand once more. Her hooves settled on the floor, and in doing so she found a loose coating of liquid there. “What in Equestria…?” she muttered as she stood and regathered her bearings, and it became apparent what had happened.

There was a spill that was spreading across the floor, seeping along the intersection of corridors. It was not merely water, though, from some backed-up sink or a broken pipe somewhere in the castle. This was a creamy white fluid, its scent unmistakable, and there was equally no question as to what its source was.

“Celestia!” Luna shouted indignantly into the empty hall, her voice echoing.

And then, another sudden development: right in front of her there was a puff of smoke and magical particles. Having been expecting this, Luna was prepared to reach out and snatch the scroll that emerged from it before it fell. It was sealed with wax, but it was not the seal of the Sun Princess as ponies of Equestria had once known it. The emblem of a sun was sharing space with a pair of circles mashed together that was suggestive of cleavage. Not that Luna paid that much mind, quickly tearing the seal and unfurling the letter to read its contents.

So sorry, Sister. It would appear that one of the tributaries has spilled away from its expected course. Unfortunately, that brings it into your portions of the palace, and therefore it is quite outside my responsibility. So sorry for the inconvenience, but perhaps you can try sponging it up with your buttocks and letting your adherents lick you clean.

There was more that she didn’t bother reading. She snarled as she crumpled the scroll into a ball and threw it into the air, and a bolt of magic fired from her horn to immolate it into blue flames. “So she does not want anything to do with my side of the palace, then?” she growled under her breath. “Very well, then I will ensure that she never sets hoof in here again!”

And so Luna and her followers began the process of completely splitting the palace in two. Furnishings and debris were piled up in halls to cut them off from each other. Ponies who hadn’t chosen a side in the conflict voiced complaints about being unable to go about their daily business. Celestia didn’t lift a finger when word reached her of what her sister was doing; there was no need for her to stop her from handling all the work for them.

An unintended side effect of this, however, was corralling the flow of milk which had been trickling haphazardly through the corridors of the palace, turning it into a proper stream that poured out through the front gates and into the moat, then down the side of the mountain. Water began to run white all around the lands surrounding Mount Canter.

[center[= = = = =


“No, please!”

“Can it, nighty!”

The guard in blue armor tried to shield himself from the ponies in gold all around him, but it was to little avail.

“You got a lotta nerve showing your sorry flank around here!” another shouted.

“You don’t understand, I didn’t come here to fight!” he cried.

“Ha, as if! You must be a spy for that fat-assed harlot! We’re going to show you for—”

“Stop.”

The commotion froze all at once, and the ponies turned to address their ruler.

Not that they could see her yet. Celestia was invariably preceded everywhere she went by the massive monoliths that were her mammaries, each one large enough to represent the volume of a single comfortably furnished room. The ponies saw nothing but swollen globes gliding across the floor toward them, milk freely gushing from the fat pastel yellow nipples that were wider across than any of them were tall. The breasts passed, and finally there was the pony they were attached to, gazing upon them with all her regal splendor. Celestia made some waving gestures with her hand and the crowd dispersed, leaving the battered night guard to stand alone, and he promptly prostrated himself before her.

“Child of the night.” As she spoke, her expression was serene, her tone gentle, but there was a clear severity indicating that a thin line was being tread at the moment. “What has brought you here?”

“P-Please, Princess, have mercy upon me,” he gasped, shaking as he clasped his hands together over his head, “I have come because I…b-because I wish to be part of your flock! I have suffered under Luna for far too long, I can’t go on without your blessed bosom!”

“There, there. Rise, my little pony.” He looked up and he saw Celestia holding her hand toward him. Her smile was as radiant as the sun, melting all of his worries away. He took her hand and she pulled him to his hooves. “Take freely of the bounty offered to you.” She nodded, and he tenderly placed himself against the side of her breast, sinking into the cushy girth.

“We are to be welcoming of all who come to us, my ponies,” she then said, addressing the remaining soldiers, who stood at attention. “Even those who have succumbed to the temptations of the moon are not beyond salvation.”


= = = = =


Later that same day, however…

“What do you mean, fired?!” Raven Inkwell exclaimed.

“It is simply as I told you,” Celestia replied plainly. Her expression was dour, but at this low angle, with her perched upon her throne and the unicorn below her, she appeared even sterner still. Her face could only be seen because she had allowed her breasts to be splayed to the sides like stage curtains.

“But…but why?!” she demanded, tears in her eyes. “I have done everything I could to serve you for years! Is that not enough for you?! Have I…n-not been loyal enough for you?!” As she said this, she grasped at her bare chest, wringing her petite breasts.

Celestia closed her eyes and breathed a long sigh. “I am sorry, Raven, but the fact of the matter is that I no longer believe you are suited for this position.”

Then her horn lit up with a golden glow and her breasts began to shift glacially. Raven Inkwell scarcely had the time to back up before she could be engulfed. She stared at the wall of bosom with her vision watering for several seconds before she turned and ran, splashing through the pools of milk that filled the audience chamber. She didn’t care where she was going, didn’t entirely look, only ran through the labyrinthine passages and rooms of the palace, through barricades and past ponies who yelled at her. She only stopped when she could no longer smell even the faintest whiff of the sweet dairy smell that was endemic of Celestia’s territories, and then she knelt on the floor and wept.

“What is the matter, little one?”

Raven Inkwell hesitated to look when she heard the voice speak to her, but look she did. There was a dark shape that blotted out the light of the setting sun, a hill that was rising up in the middle of a veranda overlooking the gardens.

The unicorn mare sputtered and sobbed like an old motor before she managed to reply, “C-Celestia…d-d-doesn’t want to see m-me anymore!”

The dark shape made a thoughtful hum. “I see. That is regrettable.” There was a clapping noise. “How about you come here and sit with me for a while?”

Slowly, she stood and walked over. She didn’t hesitate when the hulking mass resolved into the blues and blacks and starry mane of Princess Luna. She was too numb for that. She barely looked into her face, her impassive expression. The alicorn was sitting upon a bench, but there was absolutely no space left, it couldn’t even be seen. Instead she patted her thigh again, the slab of flesh offering more than enough space, to be slept on more than sat upon. Raven Inkwell perched upon her, a pale speck of a pony compared to the sprawling morass of ass all around her, and leaned into Luna’s embrace, nuzzling her cheek while she continued to sob quietly.

“I only ever wanted to help and…and she…!” she whispered.

“There, there, little one,” Luna replied, “you would be better off in the company of somepony who properly respects you.”

And she gently caressed the unicorn, running down her side until her hand rested upon the broad swell of her hip.


= = = = =


“Hmm.” Fancy Pants readjusted his monocle while he looked up. “Now what is this newest oddity?”

On the other side of the street from the rooftop café where he was having lunch, a billboard had just finished going up. It depicted a stylized night sky full of stars and nebulae and galaxies. Closer inspection, though, would make it clear how there were slight curves and bends in the canvas, suggestive of roundness. There was a distinctive crescent moon emblem in one corner of the board.

It happened that this billboard was right next to another one which depicted a pair of bulbous and suggestive suns rising over a white ocean.

“Deplorable,” declared a stallion from the next table over with a snort, “does Princess Luna really believe that she can waltz in and demand equal attention after being gone for a millennium?”

“Now, now, Jet Set, don’t be that way,” Fancy Pants chided mildly, keeping the tone of his voice level, “just because Luna has been out of the loop does not mean that she is without merit. She is a princess and alicorn herself, after all, logically putting her on equal standing with Celestia.”

“Ha!” Upper Crust stepped in for her husband with a haughty laugh. “As if that bottom-heavy buffoon could have any ideas of merit rattling about in her head! She and her cronies must be getting high off their own gas!” The two ponies began to guffaw together, as did a number of others who were sitting near them. Both wore tops that might have at one point been considered scandalous for the high society norms of Canterlot; an obscenely low-cut V-neck sweater for Jet Set, showing the fuzz on his pectorals, and a frilly crop top for Upper Crust, opening a window of considerable cleavage.

There was a shift of metal grinding on concrete beside Fancy Pants. Fleur de Lis was moving to stand. He reached out to touch her wrist. Slowly, she calmed and settled back into place. Her eyes glistened with an intent that could only be described as violent.

“You know—” The dapper white stallion leaned forward in his seat and flashed a congenial smile at the other pair. “—I can’t help noticing that the two of you don’t appear to have gone through an anointment yet.”

That got them to stop, confusion overtaking them. There was a flurry of silent micromovements as Upper Crust glanced toward Jet Set, expecting some answer, but he subtly shook his head. “No, but…we’re…scheduled for one tomorrow,” she replied with a grin of her own, fake and desperate.

“Oh, I see, that is quite good news to hear,” Fancy Pants said, nodding his head. “I hope that the wait is not too unbearable for you two. I know that, were I in your horseshoes, I would be all too eager to get it done with as soon as possible. I could not stomach the idea of not being as close as I could to my matron princess.”

“Well why have you not gone through with one, then, Fancy?” Jet Set asserted accusingly, “Why not trot on over to the palace right now and give yourself over to Celestia? I’m sure she’d give special treatment to a pony of repute such as yourself.”

He scoffed. “Repute or no, it would not go over well for anypony were I to attempt that after already pledging myself to Luna.”

A collective gasp came up from among the patrons and workers of the café. Jet Set and Upper Crust bristled, but even after all this time they still wouldn’t dare speak out against somepony with the clout of Fancy Pants. A pony like him could move society purely through force of charisma, no matter what the prevailing opinion before his intervention had been.

Eventually, Jet Set managed to speak, “But…but how could you…betray Princess Celestia like that?!”

Fancy Pants only shook his head, turning up his nose and perfectly trimmed mustache. “A shame that you continue to think in such narrowminded terms. I have not ‘betrayed’ anypony. Celestia, and you, and your folk, are all free to do as you like, as am I. I remain a citizen of Canterlot and of Equestria, and I shall endeavor for the betterment of our society, as I always have. But…” He turned toward Fleur de Lis and locked their fingers together once more, and she returned the gesture, smiling with the silent mystique only she could be capable of. “It would be utterly foolish of me not to take the opportunity to indulge in my callipygian preferences.”

They chortled to each other. The onlookers could only stare dumbfounded.

“Now, if you will excuse us, I believe we must be off.”

They stood, in the process revealing what they had been wearing below their waists, and many ponies’ faces turned a shade of red. Fancy Pants was not, in fact, wearing pants at all; his vest was offset by a thong, a dauntingly large package nestled within its confines. There was a noticeable flare to his hips, leading down toward toned legs that were awfully shapely for a stallion. That was nothing compared to Fleur de Lis, though, whose long skirt draped over the broad slopes of her hips and rear, huge thighs like marble columns grinding against each other. There was nothing covering her groin, completely exposing the plump nether lips of her vulva, as well as the crescent moon that was painted above it.

“If you decide that you’re truly desperate, though,” Fancy Pants added while passing by Jet Set and Upper Crust’s table, “I heard that Prince Blueblood is going to see Princess Celestia today. Perhaps you could join him.”

They looked at each other warily, pondering indeed if they were that desperate.


= = = = =


“And you pledge to—”

“Yes, of course, all of that, I agree to all of it,” Blueblood snapped at the bespectacled stallion who had been dryly rattling off one item after another. “Can we please get on with this? Is there any point with all the mysticism? I have served Celestia loyally all my life, there’s no reason to doubt that now.”

Kibitz rolled his eyes and snapped the book he’d been reading from shut. He wore a red suit coat, though he had shorts in place of slacks; while it was the shadier part of the castle that had an outright aversion to garments covering the legs, long-sleeved pants had fallen out of favor entirely when so much of the building was flooded. “I am no fonder of it than you are, Prince Blueblood, but there are customs, as there always have been, and without adhering to those we will fall into chaos.” A moment later he added, “More chaos than we have already, at any rate.”

Blueblood sneered. “I would have expected it to be understood that I have more important matters to tend to than listening to pointless rules. Matters such as my meeting with the Princess.” He finished tying the sash around his front and patted down the cloth of the golden robe he had been given, and he grumbled, “What is even the point of wearing this? Won’t I be naked again anyway? If they’re so desperate to get more ponies to come here to join up, they could afford to streamline the process more.”

“Complain all you want, young Prince,” the butler admonished with a click of his tongue, “but I’ll have you know the princess and her flock are far more stringent about this ritual, and they shall be less than pleased if it is not followed to the letter. The slightest deviation will be enough to give suspicion that you may be an adherent of—” He leaned in closer to whisper. “—She Who Wallows in Shadow.”

“Can you not just say Princess Lu—”

Kibitz slapped a hand over Blueblood’s mouth. The two guards flanking the nearby gates glanced their way, fiery eyes staring intently through the slits of their visors.

“I hope you are aware that you are swimming with sharks, young Prince,” he hissed through his teeth.

After being freed, Blueblood scowled. “I shouldn’t have to pine for the days when a stallion had to sate his thirst for breasts with a trip down to The Goddess,” he muttered.

“You may soon find yourself drinking until you drown,” Kibitz muttered dryly. “Very well, I suppose you are as prepared as you are going to get. In you go.”

The noble stallion shook off his indignation and walked forward. He may have been wearing a bathrobe, but he still had to maintain some sense of dignity and poise. The busywork that had gone into getting to this point had been a hassle, but he remained hopeful that the end result would be worth it. Even if the princesses had gone off their rockers in a big way, it was clear that society in Canterlot, maybe even all of Equestria, was moving in a new direction, and it was vitally important that he was at the head of this change before it started sweeping up ponies by storm. The nobles of Canterlot had largely scoffed in disgust at this rise in degeneracy, up until Fancy Pants, being the frivolous charlatan that he was, showed support for it. He had thrown his hat into Luna’s ring, however, which meant that there was still room for somepony to become the public face of Celestia’s top-heavy rule.

While the doors began to open, there was a particular image dancing in the back of Blueblood’s mind. Shadowy rooms, incense burners, ponies dressed in concealing robes, incoherent mutterings. He had seen it all before in the underbelly of Canterlot’s political sphere.

Instead, the doors opened and almost immediately he found himself nearly blinded. He cried out and shut his eyes, but it felt like the light had trapped itself in his eyeballs and was burning them up from within. Behind him, Kibitz mused, “You see, if you hadn’t cut me off early I might have been able to warn you about this.”

“You still could’ve—!”

But a hand patted him forcefully on the back, unceremoniously shoving him forward. “You’d best be quick now, otherwise they may think you’re averse to the light, and that would be a terrible omen.”

Blueblood growled but made no reply. Blindly, he staggered forward into the bloom. He tried holding an arm up over his face to shield his eyes, but it was to little effect, the brightness still searing his retinas when he tried to open again. It was as if the light did not have a source; it was like a material substance, suffusing the very air itself. There were distant voices all around him, a susurrus of sound, gasping and crooning. The smell of milk grew all the stronger, making it no surprise what he must be stepping through when he felt the floor become wet under his hooves.

When he was finally able to look, he wasn’t sure that he could see the breasts, which he thought was patently absurd given how enormous they were. The brightness and saturation of color in the room was intense, everything resplendent with illumination, even his own hand in front of his face like a blurry, indistinct mass, and the mountainous mounds were no different, their white so bright and pure that it was like the sun itself. He could scarcely identify where they began and ended, only vaguely able to differentiate the bare skin of the nipples, though it was absolutely certain that they were utterly gargantuan, bigger than boulders, broader than boulevards. There were smaller shapes of different colors gathered around them, other ponies, surely, who in comparison seemed utterly microscopic, but Blueblood scarcely paid them mind, utterly entranced by the sprawling mass of bosom. The idea that there could be a pony attached to these things was simply absurd.

The stallion was barely even paying attention when, behind him, Kibitz cleared his throat and announced, “Presenting Prince Blueblood, Heir of House Blueblood. He has come of his own volition to join the Mysteries of the Sun and to provide worship and service to Princess Celestia.”

There were calls of assent all around the chamber. He heard no word from Celestia herself. Through the valley between the two peaks, he could discern the vibrant rainbow hues of her mane, billowing and rippling, but he could not identify her face. There was a corona of golden light behind her, a heavenly glow.

“Thus shall he now partake of the princess’s divine nectar, that sacred ambrosia which shall act as the catalyst for his anointment.” Kibitz handed Blueblood a broad bowl (after prodding his shoulder with it). “Go on, then.”

He began to trudge forward on tottering legs, but then his head whipped about as he looked from one breast to the other. “Which one do I choose?”

“It does not truly matter.” Then Kibitz leaned in conspiratorially to whisper, “Though I have heard that there is a schism forming among the Followers of the Left Breast; they believe that theirs is the true faith, as their idol is closer to the princess’s heart.” He groaned under his breath. “I swear, some ponies just can’t enjoy a perfectly good thing.”

After weighing his inscrutable options, Blueblood trudged toward the right breast (perhaps misunderstanding the distinction between his and Celestia’s left and right). The milk around his hooves became murkier the closer he got, splashing around him. It seemed to gush unabatedly at a constant rate from the nipple, an opening that surely could’ve swallowed him up were it not for the incessant leaking. He held out the bowl toward the spilling fountain and it promptly filled; the contents were like liquid sunlight, tinged faintly with gold.

“I…I pledge myself to…Princess Celestia,” he said in a feverish trance, the words spilling from him unbidden even though he thought he couldn’t remember them at all, “to her pure light and to her magnificent mammaries.”

He held the bowl to his lips and tilted back, welcoming the milk into his mouth. It was intoxicatingly sweet; he had thought it was a lot to drink, surely a quart, maybe even half a gallon, and yet he had finished it before he knew what was happening. The emptied container slipped from his hands and clattered to the floor with a splash. It rested heavily in his stomach, but that was an afterthought next to the buzzing in his brain and the tingling that was spreading from his loins up along his spine.

There were other sounds—more orgasmic cheering, more instructions from Kibitz—but Blueblood scarcely registered any of that. He felt the blood pumping through him, pulsing and throbbing, as he walked dully forward, around and into the crevasse between the two breasts. It was rapidly growing hotter, intense warmth radiating from the luminous globes. He stumbled and nearly tripped on the steps leading up to the throne where Celestia sat, the space growing narrower all the while, walls of flesh closing in on him.

The alicorn’s face resolved into clarity before him. She was smiling gently, enigmatically, a glimmer in her eyes. He had seen her plenty of times before, when it was purely a matter of politics, yet this moment was different. Never before had he been so struck by her beauty. The breasts didn’t even have anything to do with it. Or so he thought, anyway.

“So you finally came to me, Blueblood,” she mused with a soft chuckle. “I knew that you would have the sense in you to be on the right side.”

He thought he responded, but he couldn’t remember what he said. He had to assume that it was said with the usual suave charm and bravado that he always demonstrated, surely not a gibbering mess.

“I hope that you are prepared to serve the sun to the fullest of your capabilities.”

He nodded, any thoughts that he had once had of how this would advance his personal career having receded into the depths of his subconscious mind.

“Then come to me and accept your anointment.”

Blueblood shed the robe he had been wearing, promptly forgetting its existence while it pooled around his hooves. He was already profoundly erect.

The stallion did not approach her as much as find himself pulled in, lust drawing on him like magnetism. It was an insignificant detail, though; once contact was made, the walls fell away and all his inhibitions left him. He nestled into the cleft between the enormous globes, where they met with Celestia’s chest, surrounding him on all sides, their heat pouring into him. Her legs clasped around his waist and he found the point of entry between them, hot moisture stifling his length, at the same time that her lips found his, locking the two of them together, intertwined. The softness of her hips as he grasped them for purchase before beginning to thrust was an afterthought compared to everything else.

Blueblood felt the gravity of the situation fully dawning on him as sweat began to mat his coat. He was standing over her, he was penetrating her, and yet invariably she was the one holding all the power. She was squeezing him, wringing the life out of him as much as his seed, her kisses aggressive and forceful, and he was obligated to return them in kind, stifling even his own ability to breathe. He felt as if he were tilting forward, into her, into her cleavage, and even though he felt the hard bone of her collar and sternum and ribcage, it was like the yielding softness was unending, flesh like quicksand. The colors in his vision were running together, and he could no longer even identify where his body ended and Celestia began.

He was screaming as the heat and arousal filled his brain, the light encompassing everything, seeping into him. There were further maddening cries filling the room, and ripples spread through the walls of breast meat—ponies were thronging around them, groping, thrusting, and there was plenty of room for all of them. But the only voice that he really heard was Celestia, crooning, moaning, almost laughing, forming an unearthly song that deepened the haze over his thoughts. She was grasping at his chest, which felt like it was burning up on the inside, yet she did not hesitate to thrust her hands into the inferno, squeezing and tugging.

He couldn’t grasp what she was pulling on, but it was making his dick harder than ever, so he had no reason to complain.

And then Blueblood came, a welcome release from the tension within. When Celestia came moments later, however, he felt like a fist was closing around him. She curled in, nuzzling at his mane, and buried his face against her chest. Just briefly, he was able to close his eyes, and the light was gone, a small mercy given the prevailing sensation of being crushed and suffocated and immolated. He was burning away as he contracted, spending every last drop within him.

It was over as quickly as it had begun. Her hands finally let go of him, and at the same time the grasp of flesh slackened. He thought he was standing but his legs gave out on him immediately and he collapsed to the floor of the dais. The strands of his mane that hung loose over his eyes were like filaments of golden sunlight. A face came into view behind them, blurry and out of focus, wreathed in flames.

“What do you think, Kibitz?” Celestia’s voice was distant in both its volume and affect, a haze clouding her.

“Still conscious,” the stallion replied gruffly. His countenance didn’t seem particularly perturbed at all. “Just in need of a little pinch.”

He reached out and pinched Blueblood’s chest. The prince gasped, a sound that started distressed and morphed into arousal. His hands shot to the sensitive region, thoughts of indignation bubbling at the back of his brain.

That lasted all of a few seconds before he registered the softness and warmth that were seeping through him. The texture was unmistakable, the smooth outer coat of fur, the skin, the flesh, pliant and pleasing. It was the kind of softness that one simply could not resist squeezing. And yet, when his fingers dug in, as if kneading clay, it was not a mare who moaned. The moan came erupting from his own mouth.

Blueblood looked down and saw his breasts cupped in his hands, mounds heaped upon his chest, globes that must have been the size of his skull, if not greater. He could see them clearly in spite of the bloom that pervaded his senses. They were undeniably his, pale fur and pert peach nipples. He felt the blood pumping through him, the air in his lungs, and the fire burning through him, pumping like a bellows each time he groped at himself. It was so wrong and it was everything he had never known he wanted.

He was already hard again when he started writhing and wailing, as if convulsing, grasping feverishly at himself, bucking wildly at the air.

“I believe he will serve us quite well,” Celestia murmured dreamily, smiling.

“Hmm, yes,” Kibitz muttered while levitating the gibbering stallion and dragging him along, “I believe there is room on the outer quadrant of the right breast.”

“See to it, then, if you please.” The alicorn was still wracked with throes of stimulation, and she reached as far as she could to encompass as much of the breasts before her as she could. It was an infinitesimal piece, but she had many dear ponies who were so eager to assist her.


= = = = =


“How have you felt, Raven?” Luna asked.

Raven Inkwell paused with the cup held to her lips, the fragrance of the tea wafting toward her nostrils. The smell was almost an afterthought in the presence of the moon herself. “About…what?” she asked in confusion.

“I believe she means in regard to your gift, dear,” Fancy Pants interjected, sitting across from her.

And there was a pinch on her thigh that made her yelp, flushing red. Fleur de Lis smirked at her and giggled.

The bespectacled mare still couldn’t believe that she was casually sitting alongside one of the princesses of Equestria and two of the most elite ponies in Canterlot. She had worked for Celestia for years, but she had never been granted the opportunity to be this candid with those of higher rank than her. They were important, she was a mere secretary.

She gasped when there was another nudge, hard in her ribs, and she turned the other way. Luna was still staring at her expectantly, sternly. She wondered if the alicorn had sensed her doubt—it wouldn’t have surprised her. She had needed to be reminded multiple times already that there was no need to fret about these matters. Fancy Pants would assert that status in the world outside meant nothing; while they were here, they were all united by a common interest.

Here, in the night.

She felt herself hesitant to look Luna in the eye, but she didn’t especially want to look anywhere else either. She didn’t want to look at the indistinct black expanse that was the floor. She didn’t want to look at the starry expanse that was cast about overhead, stars and constellations and nebulae and galaxies swirling about. It was an impossible thing; it was beautiful and eerie and unsettling all at once.

She loved Luna, and she understood that Luna loved her in turn. After so long being in the shadow of the other alicorn, though, Raven Inkwell found she still struggled with accepting the gloom and mystique of her new boss.

At least there was ass.

But Luna was still staring, still waiting.

“I’ve…felt good,” Raven Inkwell finally managed to say. She shifted, pulling on her legs, trying to bring her knees up to her chest, a self-conscious impulse. There was a fair deal more resistance than she was used to, however; that tended to happen when one’s thighs had tripled in girth. The voluptuous, curvaceous limbs were so out of place compared to her slim and plain torso. It felt strange to her every time she saw them. The plushness of her rear was further at the back of her mind—out of sight, out of mind, being behind her—but she could be thankful for how it made it effortless for her to be comfortable wherever she sat.

There was a bray of laughter. “Good?” Fancy Pants repeated incredulously, “Is that all you can think to say?”

“Um…” She felt her cheeks go hot as her blush deepened.

“Surely you’ve had some thrill from gallivanting about free from the restraints of clothing. Not even the bravest of us has been so brazen—you should consider that an accomplishment.”

Fleur de Lis placed a hand upon her again, gentle this time, reassuring. It was a gesture almost inconsequential when they were already sitting hip-to-hip with each other, cushy flesh pressing together.

All the more Raven Inkwell wanted to hide herself, however counter-productive that might be. While many of Luna’s followers had taken to wearing skimpy clothes for their legs and loins, if not nothing at all, she had grown uncomfortable wearing any clothes beyond her glasses. There were ponies who bristled at the sight of her and her bare chest, but she had the blessing of the princess behind her (emphasis on behind). It was strange to her that, among their lot, exposed buttocks and genitals were perfectly accepted, but breasts were just as taboo as ever, if not more so.

“I, ah…haven’t really…gone out that much,” she admitted embarrassedly.

“Raven.” Luna’s voice commanded everypony’s attention. “You disappoint me.”

There was a sinking so profound that the unicorn thought her heart had tumbled out of her. “Wh-wh-what?” she stammered.

“Did I stutter?” The alicorn’s mouth was set in a thin line and her eyes were narrowed. “I have done so much for you, and you have squandered all the new opportunities that have been presented to you.”

“P-Princess!” She was starting to surge to her hooves, pulled by desperation. “Please, I-I didn’t mean to—”

Magic enveloped her, pushing her back down, bouncing momentarily on her rear, cushioning the impact, and when she tried to speak again she found her lips glued shut.

“Do you suppose that I welcomed you here for no reason other than to get you to ogle at my hindquarters?” Luna asked, interrogated. “This was for your benefit as much as mine—nay, I might say it was even more for you than I. I wanted my innermost circle to be satisfied with themselves. I wanted you to put your time under my sister behind you and have some fun, live your life to its fullest. You are stark naked, Raven, you cannot do that and still be a shrinking violet—I will not permit it.” After a few moments of keeping the prone unicorn leveled in her gaze, she turned to the other ponies. “What do you imagine would be an appropriate solution to this dilemma?”

“I think Fancy and I should have some fun with her,” Fleur de Lis promptly answered, sidling up beside her, squeezing together until their shoulders were touching.

Raven Inkwell made a stifled gasp and her whole face went red.

“Oh, that could be delightful,” Fancy Pants replied, smirking while he rubbed his chin, and the shaft in his lap twitched, “you could sit on her face while I rail her from behind. That would loosen her up right quick.”

She wanted to deny this claim, but the tingling in her loins only prompted her to squirm more.

“But I assume that you already have an idea in mind, Luna,” the stallion then said, turning back toward the alicorn.

“Yes.” And then Luna smirked. “Let us perform another anointment.”

Raven Inkwell’s eyes bugged out, and this time when she gasped out her alarmed reply the magic was no longer keeping her gagged. “Another?!”

“Oh.” Fancy Pants looked surprised, and for a moment bewildered, but then he quickly regained his good cheer and then some as he turned toward the unicorn mare. “Now that is quite the idea.”

“But…but I don’t deserve that!” Raven Inkwell insisted, glancing between the ponies. “I’m just…Raven, there’s nothing special about me! You should be the one to get that, Fancy, you’re the one who deserves it the most!”

“Raven.” Fleur de Lis had a thin, mischievous smile as she leaned closer to her. “Don’t you think it improper to say what Luna should or should not do?”

Her blush turned into a blanche. “I-I-I—!”

“And besides, if the princess herself has taken such an interest in you, then I would say that that makes you quite special,” Fancy Pants added in a more sincere manner.

Raven Inkwell pursed her lips shut all by herself. The cold of anxiety was seeping through her. She didn’t want to believe the words that had been spoken to her. But when she looked at the ponies all around her, she only saw warmth and support, no matter how much her doubts whispered to her. “…O-okay,” she finally replied, trying not to sob.

“That is the behavior we hope to see,” Luna said with a gentle smile. “Now, prepare yourself.”

The mare stood while the other two unicorns moved out of the way. She repositioned herself directly in front of Luna. Then Luna stood as well; the masses of blue and black behind her shifted but remained in mostly the same position. Her legs were luscious, increasingly thick from the heels up to the calves and thighs, as broad as tree trunks, but that was like a drop in the bucket compared to her rear. They had been sitting in its shadow all this time, a bulk as imposing as the edifice of an office building, taller than any of them or even its owner several times over.

Raven Inkwell laid upon the floor before her, and Luna advanced, pulling the mountains behind her. Her hands reached around her thighs and clasped at the undersides of the swollen girth, and she lifted; it seemed impossible, but the whole of the gargantuan mounds raised upward, parting from the ground.

Instinctively, she began to recite the words from her memory. “I…I pledge myself to serve and—”

“No, Raven,” Luna asserted, “you have already given your loyalty to me. This is for you. You must make a pledge for yourself.”

She blinked. The idea was practically foreign to her. “I pledge to…be…happy?”

“And how will you be happy?” The alicorn prodded at her both verbally and physically, one hoof tracing over the swell of her hip on the ground.

“I will…use the gifts which my princess has so graciously given to me…to live life to the fullest…by…um…”

Luna smirked down at her, and she began to make slow gyrations of her hips, swaying from one side to the other. It was a relatively slight motion, but it made the broad expanse of her rump move far more dramatically, twisting in broad arcs at the farthest reaches. Raven Inkwell felt her cheeks growing hotter, much like her loins.

“By…f-flaunting the girth of my v-voluminous rear, hips, and thighs, as my princess has taught me, to draw the eye of my ponies with my wiles, to f-f-fuck them—” She gasped sharply, her knees and thighs locking together.

“That is what we like to hear.”

Luna descended upon her. She was not gentle. It was like the crushing force of a meteor falling upon somepony, swallowing them up into the abyss. Even having experienced it before, Raven Inkwell was overwhelmed by the impact, a full-body blow that momentarily made her feel like she really had been crushed flat. She might have screamed, were her muzzle not buried in the hot cloying damp of the mare’s thighs. The flesh surrounded her, buried her, threatened to consume her—the alicorn could have closed her legs together completely and she would have been lost to the world.

“You have offered yourself wholeheartedly to me, Raven.” Luna’s voice came from somewhere overhead, muffled. Raven Inkwell could scarcely see through the sliver between the tree trunk thighs, and above that she only saw the flat slab of the princess’s stomach and her breasts. “I could wring you dry, put you to work as a living washrag for my cheeks, smother you every day, but I wish for more than that. You deserve more than that. You shall reap the benefits of my blessing as any of my followers ought to.”

And then she began to press, earnestly forcing her bulk downward upon the unicorn smothered beneath her. Grinding down and side to side, the motions on the verge of reducing her to a smear on the darkened ground. Raven Inkwell wanted to whimper, and yet the stifled sound came out far more earnest, crooning in her throat. Her groin ached, but she couldn’t even begin to move her hands enough to reach there to pleasure herself. There was something she could reach, though; it was so close, she could smell it, the heady scent, mixed with sweat, feeding straight into her nostrils.

The prone mare leaned forward with her neck, forcing in as much as she could, and her muzzle found the source of the smell, and a part of the moisture. Their lips met, one pair horizontal and the other vertical, and she opened her mouth to welcome the juices inside, the bittersweet mixture with a faint hint of vanilla and mint. She groaned, a motion that led naturally into pressing in tighter rubbing her nose against the plush slit while her tongue probed inside, lapping at the supple folds. Luna began to hum a song of her own passion at the same time, crooning out long notes in time with the rhythm of her grinding, flexing with her pelvis to push upon the pony beneath her. Raven Inkwell couldn’t see them, but she assumed that Fancy Pants and Fleur de Lis were nearby, providing the princess with additional stimulation, as she herself had done for past anointments. There could never be too much. All glory to the princess and her moons.

Dimly, Raven Inkwell managed to look past Luna’s body and see the sky overhead, the projections of swirling stars. The lights danced around each other in ever more chaotic patterns, a blur of color that mimicked the maelstrom she felt within herself. For the first anointment, she had been so anxious, so worried that she would be a disappointment to her new mistress. Now, the display of the lights in the sky was so much clearer to her—she ought to act with the same freedom. She groaned, and she felt herself straining, her frame burgeoning, stretching, but it was hard to really be sure of anything, her whole body numb below the neck.

The exultation of Luna orgasming was little relief to her. It only meant that she had to perform all the more urgently in drinking the gush of fluid that came erupting from her vulva. Her tongue continued to work at the pliant inner walls even as the alicorn’s thighs squeezed, on the verge of crushing her skull. She already had so much pressure upon her, that much extra was of little concern. Only her energy could be exhausted, spent no matter how much she was ingesting, the intensity and heat of the moment sapping her strength.

When it was over, Luna leaned forward to look at her, and she reached between her legs to stroke at Raven Inkwell’s mane, tender and affectionate. She could only stare back in turn. “Let us see what you have become, my little pony,” she whispered.

The pressure eased, and Raven Inkwell found the strength to move, to emerge from beneath the monolithic mass like a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis. Her body appeared much unchanged at first, aside from her glasses being crooked and her dark mane coming undone, hanging askew all around her neck and shoulders. Then her hips emerged, sliding out and out and out, flaring ever wider. She gasped and grunted; she was dragging her buttocks over the ground, but the grinding of her nethers against Luna’s undercarriage was far more severe, each press sending a surge of lightning through her. She was still firmly entrenched in the throes of arousal, and even with the royal rump no longer crushing her she felt herself waning, too exhausted to sit or stand.

“My, my.” Fleur de Lis appeared, hovering over her. “Aren’t you quite the specimen now?”

Just that sight of another pony was enough to light a fire under Raven Inkwell, an urge that she had never known before, a carnality so intense that exhaustion no longer mattered. She threw herself into motion, heaving up and latching onto the other mare. Their thighs grappled with each other—Fleur de Lis kept up despite now being half her size—and they kissed twofold, muzzles locking together, plush vulvae nestling, drooling.

“Now, this,” Fancy Pants said, distantly, behind her, and she felt something prodding at her buttocks as hands groped at her flesh, spreading the swollen mounds apart, “this is a rump worthy of Luna’s name.”

And while Raven Inkwell made love twice over, sandwiched between two of the most affluent ponies of Canterlot, she felt Luna’s gaze upon her, silently approving of her actions.

She was going to be happy now.
> Part 3: Selenelion
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Celestia was happy.

How could she not be, after coming this far?

Or she was horny. The two tended to intertwine with each other.

She basked in the afterglow of her accomplishments, the success that she had found in swaying Equestria to her side.

They were here with her now, all around her. They were serving her. They were loving her. They were awaiting her.

“Creatures of Equestria!” she announced, and her voice carried across the mountainside to all of her devout followers.

They cheered for her, and she felt their countless hands upon her.

“I am grateful for all of you showing your affection for me as your ruler, your princess, and, of course, your breasts!”

They were all thankful for that. There was more than enough breast to go around. The sprawling fields of flesh extended down the slopes of Mount Canter. The exact acreage had not yet been determined—everypony who tried gave up before long and threw themselves upon her. Even further beyond, the landscape of Equestria was still nothing but white, flooded with a never-ending tide of milk to keep its citizens from knowing any concept of hunger ever again.

“I have given you much!” she called, “And now it is your turn to give back to me!”

And so they did, with gusto. They grabbed, they squeezed, they groped, they pushed, they kneaded, they loved. Every creature in Equestria all at once, crammed together, crawling over her, caressing the pliant surface. It was more than a single pony could know what to do with, but by now Celestia had grown used to it. It had her tantalizingly on edge. There was only one thing she could do to make it even better. She placed her own hands upon her bosom and ignited her horn, letting her magic flow through her so she could—

“SO THIS IS WHAT YOU HAVE BEEN USING MY REALM FOR?!”

The voice boomed like thunder across the plains of cleavage. Ponies scattered in terror, which meant, most importantly, that they were no longer providing her with the stimulation she desired. All the same, she felt more terror than outrage when she looked up.

There was a moon in the sky. Absolutely infeasible—there should have only been her sun! What’s more, though, the pale sphere appeared to be trembling. Cracks were forming in its surface, like an egg soon to hatch.

And then something emerged, the lone globe replaced with two, dark blue with a mottled spread of black and white crescents on either side. The masses were much like Celestia’s own, but they were the forbidden assets, the lower half that had been banished from the world for so long. Only faintly could she identify the pony they were attached to at their epicenter, the furious mare with a mane and tail full of stars.

“IF YOU TRULY BELIEVE YOURSELF SO ACCOMPLISHED,” Luna bellowed, “LET US SEE HOW YOU FARE AGAINST THE MASTER OF DREAMS!”

And then she leapt from the husk of the moon, and in midair she turned, bringing about her ass cheeks to the fore, descending upon Equestria like a pair of meteors.

Celestia only had moments to spare to prevent the imminent extinction (or ass-tinction) event from occurring. She shouted, exerting a glorious war cry, as she heaved her chest upward, bringing her breasts along. The enormous mounds parted with the earth and leapt upward to stand in the way of the collision. Luna came slamming into her, continents of breast and ass meeting with each other. The mountain was smothered, Celestia included, but it was a momentary calamity, as the arousal prompted a gush of milk to erupt from her nipples like twin volcanos, forcing her attacker off of her.

“I SEE YOU ARE STILL JUST AS MUCH OF A LEAKING MILKBAG, SISTER!” Luna shouted while she hovered in place, her wings inexplicably carrying her aloft in spite of her utterly gargantuan mass.

“And you’re just as much of a loudmouth!” Celestia replied as she too ascended—it was several seconds after she had left the ground that she was actually high enough to raise her breasts into the sky with her. “Or did you learn how to speak through flatulence?!”

“YOU LACK THE APPRECIATION FOR MY REFINED TONGUE!”

“Well why don’t you put your tongue between my thighs and we’ll see how refined it is!”

“YOU WOULD NOT KNOW THIGHS IF THEY BIT YOU ON THE CLITORIS!”

They swung at each other, twisting about their bodies to bring their overgrown extremities colliding with each other. They tumbled through the sky, lacking any sense of elegance in the midst of their brawl, not that they could have managed much with the ballast they were carrying. They cried out fervently, but each blow was additionally punctuated by groans of desire. The sky flashed chaotically with each clash of the sun and moon, filling with a light more beautiful and terrible than anypony had ever known.


= = = = =


Celestia was tired.

She was numb.

She was horny.

She was always horny.

Everything was horny.

Everything was breasts.

The alicorn stretched out her arms, desperately attempting to wring the soreness out of them, and unavoidably her hands found themselves prying into the softness that billowed from her chest. Her jaws gaped in a silent groan as the stimulation further disrupted her drowsiness, and she arched her back. Even her hooves pressed into the undersides of the titanic mounds when she stuck them out far, kneading herself four times over. And that was in addition to the far distant points of contact all around her—she certainly couldn’t see them, nor could she grasp enough sense of scale to judge where they were.

It wasn’t that she was tired of being aroused. It was as if the arousal itself had grown tired. Like a bottle of soda that had been left to go flat, sweet but no longer fizzing. She felt the surges that ran through her skin, along frayed nerve endings, and it filled her brain, yet it no longer provided the numbing pressure that would erase all awareness of the world around her. At least, awareness that wasn’t breast-related, the one thing that mattered the most.

Celestia made an attempt at movement. It was not nearly as easy as she remembered it being—the reason that she had thought it would be easy eluded her. She managed to stand with some concerted effort, all the while conscious of the tugging on her chest; it wasn’t exactly pleasant, but pain was just another kind of impulse to her. Trying to step down from the dais immediately proved far more difficult, as she found herself walking straight into the wall of her own bosom, and pushing into that was about as effective as pushing on a wall of brick and mortar. It brought yet more pleasure, seeping upward, and dimly she felt that the spark was reigniting, the old sensation being forced out by the new, fresh grease lubricating the internal machinery of her body.

Walking wasn’t getting any easier, however. She was still trying to push along boulders that outsized her several dozen times over. The attention of her adherents likely wasn’t helping either, pushing and shoving against her erratically. Perhaps she could have asked them to stop, but that didn’t seem like it would be particularly productive. She couldn’t have less stimulation. She needed to have more.

More.

More.

MORE.

Her tongue was lolling out of her mouth as she pressed her hands on her bosom and channeled a spell that had become so commonplace for her that she didn’t even need to think about it, it was as natural as breathing. The searing light grew brighter. She fell into herself. Her wings fluttered involuntarily. The flesh pushed back against her. It surged all around. Some ponies went under, swallowed up by the tide. It didn’t stop any of them from continuing to grope at her, even encouraged them further. The fervor had been renewed.

And she dimly noticed something. There was a flat, hard surface, akin to the floor, except this was on either side of her breasts. It elicited delight in her, inexplicably. This called for celebration. And celebration could only mean one thing.

Yet before that impetus could take hold, Celestia found herself trying to walk forward again. It was just as fruitless of an endeavor as before, if not even more so. It was invoking introspection, something that she had not allowed herself to consider in what seemed like an inconceivable span of time. Her ears perked, attempting to take in the sounds of her surroundings, but she could barely hear herself think over the ubiquitous churning of milk and the chorus of vocalized excitement. In spite of her electrified state of mind, the hairs along the back of her neck were standing on end, gooseflesh rising on her arms.

Something was coming.

Then there was a banging on the door, a rapid-fire battering ram.

“CELESTIA!”

That terrible voice. It had followed her from her dreams, the nightmare come to haunt her in the waking world. She found herself hugging her bosom not because it made her horny but because it was something that could hide her (the thought that the breasts themselves made her presence very obvious didn’t occur to her).

The entryway came open with a slam, and the bloom within the throne room flickered. Darkness was pouring in like billowing clouds. No, not quite—it was light of a different sort, calm and soothing, ambient rather than pervasive. And there in the center of the opening there was a pony standing, nearly knee-deep in the flood of milk that was pouring out. Though her whole profile could be identified, there was so much more that sprawled out behind her, extending beyond the frame that was offered by the doorway, a canvas of blue and black.

“This has gone on long enough, Sister!” Luna shouted, booming through the hall.

The loyal ponies who once would have fought her back tooth and nail were now too drunken on breasts—either their princess’s or their own—to do much of anything to oppose her.

Celestia herself couldn’t do much either while she was so thoroughly anchored in place. She could barely bring herself to peer over the top of her white-furred fortress walls. “G…go away!” she cried weakly through the haze that was still threatening to consume her thoughts. “You…y-you don’t belong here!”

“Last I checked, Celestia, this was supposed to be our throne room!” the other mare spat, seething. The light surrounding her seemed less and less peaceful, swirling like ethereal tendrils.

“This is the Chamber of the Sun’s Repose!” she insisted in turn. “There is no place for the moon here! Be…begone, you and your ass! You can’t even fit in here anyway!”

Luna only sneered before she began to stride forward without the slightest hesitation.

The mass behind her clung on, unable to fit through the doors. So the doorway broke, crumbling to pieces, and then the whole rest of the wall followed. Panic arose as ponies broke from their stupor to run, seeking out another exit—many settled for simply burrowing underneath Celestia’s breasts for protection—as the rubble of marble spilled across the floor. Even that, though, was only a premonition for the advance of ass flesh, a new living wall that approached, swallowing up what little floor space was left in the room, a barge skating through the sea of milk. Luna’s hips ground against the walls of the throne room on either side as she walked down the center of the floor, while her buttocks rose high above her head, mobile hills of blue and black fat.

“What will you do now, Sister?!” Luna called out to her, looking up undaunted at the valley of cleavage, deep and wide enough to fit a train car or two within it.

“I…how…how could you do this?!” Celestia asserted indignantly, feeling some semblance of authority breaking through the all-consuming arousal. If only she could muster the leverage necessary to move. “You have…defiled this hallowed space with your rump! You would dare to—”

But Luna rolled her eyes and lit her horn with a pulse of magic.

The instinctual urge to prepare defensive spells rose in Celestia’s mind. It proved to be ineffective, however. There were no offensive incantations heading her way, instead she felt the magic encompassing her whole body. She still might have managed a counterspell were it not for the tingling touch upon her skin prompting another pulse of stimulation that wracked through her brain at just the wrong moment. It wasn’t levitation, however, not moving her physically. The cyan light was closing in on her, squeezing, pinching.

She managed to gasp before her perception collapsed in on itself as she was teleported.

A moment later she was in reality again. Her hooves were unsteady, though it wasn’t exactly like she could have fallen very far, either into her bosom or held up by it, keeping her anchored. Uncertainty as to her location flashed through her mind, but she realized that the walls and ceiling around her were familiar, the same marble that she was used to seeing throughout the palace, and she was standing in a lake of milk—her own, she knew (with some of it contributed by her buxom followers). Her breasts were no longer in the same comfortable position, not sagging down along a slope, instead she felt that they were resting upon a slope, parted to the sides, of course with many ponies still smothered beneath her.

She was now facing toward the dais with the throne instead of standing upon it.

Which meant that—

“Hello there, Tia,” came Luna’s venomous voice into her ear.

Celestia’s attempt to leap into movement was halted by arms clamping down on her, pinning her own to her sides in the process, and her wings were forced flat against her back. She yelled and squirmed, but it was to no avail, Luna’s grip around her was ironclad; she had always physically been the stronger of the pair, the one more suited to feats of combat and athletic prowess—that likely had something to do with how she had an easier time walking at her present size as well.

“This is more convenient, I would say,” Luna said with a dark chuckle, “so much better for us to speak directly to each other instead of shouting across the room.”

“Nrgh…! This…this isn’t fair!” Celestia growled back at her, twisting her neck about in an attempt to face her sister, “I can’t fight you like this! I can’t even face you!”

“War is not always fair, Celestia,” Luna hissed, eyes narrowed to points, “perhaps you ought to have considered a confrontation such as this before you thought it would be a prudent idea to turn your breasts into a pair of zeppelins.”

Those zeppelins were doing her a fat lot of good at the moment. She was now doubly immobilized, by the other alicorn’s hold and her own bulk. And it was made worse when she felt the probing hands renew their efforts in kneading her flesh, heedless of the intensity of the moment which was upon them. Some of them were finding themselves caressing the fields of blue and black instead, too blinded by their lust to consider that they were embracing the forsaken assets. If Luna was bothered by that, she didn’t show much sign of it.

“And it would be just like you to make this out to be a fight,” the younger alicorn then said, seething with a vitriol just scarcely contained beneath the surface, “I did not come here to fight you, Sister. I came here to put an end to this foolish game.”

The intensity and severity of her tone brought a chill running up Celestia’s spine in spite of the stimulating fire which was exerting its control over her. “Wh-what?”

“I have grown tired of this!” Luna snapped, baring her teeth, “We have become mockeries of ourselves! And for what?! So we can have the biggest tits and ass Equestria has ever known?! We are an embarrassment to our rank and title; we cannot hope to lead ponies like this!”

Celestia wanted to retort, to argue against this, but all the while she could feel the ponies who were buried by her mountainous mammaries, pulling at her with the mindless instinct of a newborn foal suckling from its mother. She should have remembered their names, there was a time when she had known every adult in Canterlot, but she could scarcely even recall the faces of the ones she had anointed. They all blurred together into a miasma of features, a sea of flesh, drowning in milk. This had been acceptable for her position as their idol of worship, substantially less so for a princess. “What are we to do, then, Luna?” she asked, wary of what the answer might be. “Give up and return to the way we were before?”

But that prompted Luna to laugh. “As if! I could never dream of being rid of my posterior at this point! Just as I doubt you would ever part with your bosom.”

“Well that’s one thing we’re in agreement on at least,” Celestia remarked dryly, “then what solution do you have in mind?”

“The fighting needs to stop, we can no longer afford to quarrel amongst ourselves about whether breast or buttock is superior.”

“Very well, then we can…not do that.”

However, Luna only gripped tighter, squeezing without relent. “It is not that easy, Sister; you forget that we have a host of ponies following our commands. They have already been set on a course for destroying each other, they will continue their ways with or without us. The whole disease must be contained and crushed before it can spread further. And it just so happens that you have allowed yourself and your followers to become too drunk on the high of orgasm to do anything about it.”

A chill ran up Celestia’s spine at the implications of what was being suggested to her. “Luna, what’re…you can’t be planning on…!”

“Nothing so grisly, Sister,” Luna replied with bitter finality, “I will simply have to remove the source of your cult’s worship, as well as the favors you have bestowed.”

The realization of what that statement meant was far worse than anything she had been imagining before. “N-no, you—! You can’t! You can’t do this!” She flailed with renewed vigor, but still to no avail. “You can’t take my breasts away!”

Luna scoffed harshly at her. “Do not attempt to play at my heart strings. I know that you would have said the same to me if you had had the opportunity, were you not so fixated on immediate gratification!”

“What?!” Celestia snapped back at her indignantly, “Don’t insinuate that, I would never—”

“DO NOT LIE TO ME!” the younger alicorn yelled, deafening, right into her ear, her voice rumbling with power and a flash of moonlight filling her eyes. “I saw your dreams, Celestia! I saw how you reveled in a world in which you were rid of me! Do not pretend that it did not happen!”

She gaped and her attempts to struggle went still all at once. “L-Luna, I…that…that was just a dream, I didn’t…I wasn’t really going to…”

“In somno veritas, Sister,” Luna growled. “If there is one thing I have learned, it is how to glean the deepest desires of a pony from seeing their dreams. Maybe you do not wish to do it now, but the impetus is there in you, just waiting to take root!”

Celestia wanted nothing more than to deny this, but she found that she could not. She loved her sister, and yet she found that there was a great deal of evidence to suggest that she had not been taking that into consideration for the past few days (she actually found herself struggling to remember the exact passage of time, uncertain if it had been days, or weeks, or months since this all began). She had set her followers against those of Luna, insisted that Luna was a temptress not to be trusted, that to be allied to her was tantamount to treason. And for what? She could not recall the reason—the reality was that there had likely never been a reason. Not a real reason, at any rate, a reason founded in basis of fact and logic. It was because she had felt threatened by Luna’s growth. And because she couldn’t contain her hunger for growth. Envy and excess in tandem, pulling her down a path to sin.

She would have welcomed her punishment, knowing fully well that she deserved it for her part in exacerbating their conflict.

But she could never possibly welcome the idea of giving up her breasts.

“It will take but a moment,” Luna said grimly, “I already practiced the spell I will use.” A horn lit up with a shine of magic.

“N-no!” Celestia twisted and writhed anew, with all of her strength, but there was still nothing she could do to get away.

“There is no point in struggling!” Luna asserted, her magic channeling more intensely with each passing second. “If you are so concerned with your ability to constantly be a hair’s breadth from orgasm, I will permit you to be just as excessively bottom-heavy as I am once we are through!”

Then an idea formed in Celestia’s mind. It was crazy, but it would have to work. She had mere seconds to pull it off. She twisted her arms, reaching behind her back, in between the two of them.

“This is for the best, you will thank me for it eventually,” Luna insisted as her spell neared completion.

“You’ll have to thank me for this first!” Celestia interjected, and her horn flared with sunlight immediately—for though her sister was physically stronger, her magic had always been superior—as her fingers touched the soft swell of Luna’s chest.

Promptly, something pushed back against her, accompanied by the sound of tearing cloth.

“Wh-ah-AH!” Luna’s exclamation morphed into a gasp and then a cry, all while her hold on the other alicorn loosened.

A bolt of magic fired from her horn, flying wildly up toward the ceiling, fizzling without effect.

Before Celestia looked back, she already heard Luna’s labored, panicked breathing, tinged with a mounting undercurrent of arousal. The blue alicorn was staring wide-eyed at her chest, which had obliterated the top she’d been wearing in the process of growing to the size of a pair of basketballs, hanging over the upper reaches of her stomach. Miniscule, of course, compared to her rump, or to her sister’s breasts, but certainly a dozen cup sizes or so up from what she had been before. She held her arms far out to the sides, as if she didn’t dare touch the heavy globes even for a moment. “You…wh-what…?!” she stammered, only to freeze up when she saw her breasts jiggle, trembling with every slight motion that she made, even breathing, steadily rising and falling. She managed to level her gaze upon Celestia, eyes quivering with a mixture of emotions, rage and confusion and disbelief.

And Celestia found that she could only chuckle, a smirk curling across her muzzle. “It’s okay, Lulu, there’s no shame in admitting that you like it,” she said, and she patted the side of her own breasts, “just give yourself a feel and I’m sure you’ll—”

Luna lunged forward. “Feel this!” she shouted as she grabbed the white rear in front of her.

Celestia didn’t get a chance to react before the mana pumped into her.

The swelling of flesh was a sensation she had grown well-acquainted with, but it was entirely alien for her to feel it centered in her lower half. There was something different about it; it felt meaty, in a sense. Not that she had much time to reflect upon that as the process was almost instantaneous, the jolt of momentum pulling her backward momentarily. She was suddenly all the more conscious of the sensation of skin pressed against skin, buttocks and thighs rubbing together. Her balance might have been upset more if she weren’t already weighed down by her breasts. It wasn’t so easy to crane her head back and gauge her exact size, but the fact that she could see so much of her ass, fields of white parting the folds of her skirt, was indicative enough by itself.

“Uh…oh…” she muttered as she placed her hand upon the slope of her hip, over her sun cutie mark, fingers sinking into the pliant flesh.

“I am sure that you will enjoy yourself, Tia,” Luna jeered back, sneering, crossing her arms over her chest, though briefly appearing flustered at the way this made her bosom compress.

“O-oh…” Celestia didn’t seem to hear her, however. Her hand was probing further around the circumference of her buttock, hefting the mound of flab that was like a padded cushion grafted to her rear, then down along her thigh. She arched her back as her spine tingled with electricity.

Luna stared and blinked. “No, Celestia, I did not mean that you were actually supposed to enjoy it.”

“Luna,” she spoke, not truly hearing what had been said, “why didn’t you tell me that this felt so good?”

The younger alicorn’s disbelief intensified. “Did you think I would have done this to myself if I had not liked how it felt?” she asked while reaching back to pat at the blue wall behind her.

“Oh, it’s so…juicy!” Celestia now used both hands, squeezing on either side of her buttocks while she slowly gyrated her hips. “The way they swing! It’s lovely!”

“Celestia, you cannot just…!” But Luna gave up on her train of thought, not knowing what to say. Was she supposed to be angry that her sister shared in her appreciation for big asses after all? No, that was ridiculous, even if it made the whole scenario a tad anticlimactic.

But she knew what this meant the appropriate follow-up action for her was, and she grimaced at the thought of that. She looked down at herself, a view which was now mostly tit, occluding everything beneath. She hesitantly held her palm up toward the blue curve and grumbled, “What could possibly be so delightful about—” Then her fingers touched at the bare dark skin of her nipple, and she yelped at the tingle that coursed through her. “Oh…that…” Her musing gave way to restrained moaning as she cupped both overflowing breasts and squeezed each nipple. Faint beads of white emerged from the bumpy flesh.

“Tia, this is…why does this feel so good?” she crooned while pressing the mounds flat against her chest.

“One of the miracles of life,” Celestia replied, belting out a laugh, “just like this ass.”

“Oh, gods, I cannot fathom how I failed to indulge in this for my whole life,” Luna moaned, her tone turning increasingly passionate.

The atmosphere of the packed and wrecked throne room was growing increasingly heady as the two alicorns fell deeper into arousal. Their very presence, the two of them combined, emanating an intense aura of sexual pleasure, was prompting several ponies packed into the crevice between the behemoth breasts and buttocks to spontaneously fall into throes of orgasm all at once.

“Tits are…rather splendid,” Luna mused plainly.

“Having a nice ass isn’t too bad,” Celestia added.

“Oh, Tia…I don’t know how I let this come between us.”

However, when Luna then moved to wrap her arms around Celestia in a far gentler embrace, she was met with resistance when her newly enlarged bosom mashed against the white alicorn’s wings and back, while her own rump pushed backward and blocked her sister’s pelvis.

“I suppose it’s understandable that there was some resistance to overcome,” Celestia replied with a smile, and she reached back, stretching to place a tender hand upon Luna’s cheek.

They both laughed softly and pressed inward to complete the embrace, the pliant girth compressing between them as they nuzzled with each other.

And Luna whispered, “You are thinking the same thing as I, I hope?”

Celestia grinned. “That it’s silly for us to be so uneven at this point?”

“Yes, I concur.”

“Let’s fix that, then.”

While they were channeling their magic into themselves, they were already working up their imaginations at the idea of what might await them. With two princesses unified in their love of tits and asses, it would be so much easier for them to manage their loyal followers, bringing them together for a mutual appreciation for immensity. Both of them could so easily imagine themselves, now sporting equal gargantuan proportions in both their upper and lower bodies, towering above the populace, their audience waiting with rapt attention for what decrees they might dole out. They were practically drooling, on the verge of climax, already feeling the phantom sensation of their taut flesh, so gloriously burgeoning, straining the definition of their forms. Celestia thought of the titanic rump which she would drag behind her, the most heavenly mattress which she could recline upon whenever she desired. Luna envisioned the bloated blimp breasts and the rivers of milk which would flow from her at all times. The light of the sun and moon blazed all around them as magic suffused their bodies, resplendent and radiant.

Neither of them took a moment to consider that they were positioned front to back with each other, or that they were already filling the throne room well beyond its maximum capacity.

They would later rationalize this by saying that they had outgrown the need for the palace anyway.

All they needed now was their girth and each other.
> Bonus: The Photo Op
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lens Flare sighed through his nostrils and steeled himself before he spoke.

“A little closer together.”

There were immediately two exasperated groans and he had to withhold one of his own.

“Is this truly necessary?!”

“Surely we must already be more than close enough!”

“There’s no need for me to go along with this any further!”

“I should not have to debase myself to this extent!”

The grey stallion turned away and rubbed at his temples, feeling his blood pumping frantically, threatening to burst. Any pony in his line of work would have begged for the opportunity to take pictures of the royal sisters up-close and personal—these were the kinds of shots that could make a photographer’s career. In spite of all the hoops he’d had to jump to in order to reach this point, however, he found himself tasked with subjects whose temperaments were more comparable to the snobbish foals of rich business ponies. He was very distinctly reminded of a shoot he’d been hired for a month ago, for two fillies in Ponyville who had staunchly refused to behave for more than an hour, tripping over each other to be the center of attention.

That was without delving into the matter of their size.

It might have been ridiculous for either Celestia or Luna to bemoan their circumstances and the proximity they were being forced into under normal circumstances. They were standing quite a few paces away from each other, a distance that was roughly equivalent to being on opposite ends of a room. And yet they were very nearly touching each other, on account of the fact that they themselves each occupied the volume of a room of moderate dimensions. Each of them had a pair of fleshy mounds attached to them that were nearly the size of hot air balloons—in Celestia’s case, attached to her chest, and for Luna, protruding from her rear. They were breasts and buttocks of such magnitude that they were practically unrecognizable as being part of a pony’s anatomy.

This wasn’t something that Lens Flare had been entirely surprised by. The news of what the princesses had been getting up to in the palace had made its way to Canterlot, and every paper had wanted first dibs on the scoop. Lens Flare had been quick about it; he had seen the milky runoff from the palace grounds and inquired about the situation with the staff. Attempting to organize the shoot had been difficult on account of structure inside the staff having largely disintegrated and factionalized between the princesses, with a handful who chose not to get involved—they had been the most helpful to his efforts, the ones who were still the most sane. It had been a real catch-22 dilemma on his hands: the princesses were willing to participate, being eager to get their message out to the country, but there had been demands that neither would be portrayed more favorably than the other. And yet, here they were on the appointed meeting, and they were completely unwilling to share the same space with each other.

As much space as there was, at any rate. Lens Flare had brought the widest camera lens he owned. He had been assured that it would be sufficient for the task. All for him to now come to the discovery that even with the two alicorns so frustratingly close to each other, so close to a collision of tit and ass, they still couldn’t fit into the frame together. Either the attendants had been incorrect about their estimations, or the princesses had grown even more in the intervening time. He wasn’t certain that the picture would even be able to fit on a newspaper page in any reasonable capacity. It would need to be a double-sized magazine centerfold.

He had been aware of the subtle shifting of the shadows around them as the sun marched across the heavens—it was important to be aware of the changes in lighting, but it also served as a reminder of how much time was being wasted.

“Your majesties…please,” he asserted, clasping his palms together, just shy of begging, “I am aware that this is a…tense moment for the two of you…but the simple fact of the matter is that I am going to need the two of you as close together as possible if I am to fit the two of you in the shot together, so that you may have—I reiterate—equal standing with each other.”

“I would not have agreed to this if I had known that I would have to get my bosom so close to her sweaty bottom,” Celestia remarked with her nose upturned.

“Do not chide me for sweat when your oversized udders are constantly leaking, Celestia!” Luna quickly retorted, snarling.

(There was a distant splashing noise in the background all the while; they were standing on a balcony with Celestia facing away, breasts and nipples pointing out over the railing, milk pouring down below.)

“Can we all PLEASE just COOPERATE?!” Lens Flare interjected before the argument could escalate into yet another shouting match.

It was a dangerous move. It prompted all ponies in the immediate area to turn their attention upon him, staring with bitter intensity. Not just Celestia and Luna, at that, but their flunkies too, identifiable by the metallic rattling of armor shifting. The two alicorns each had their own contingent of guards, but usually the corps that was active would simply be the ones corresponding to the current time of day. Presently, there were guardsponies wearing both golden and cobalt helmets, standing just out of view of the shot. They had been bristling all the while, glaring at each other, even more with each time Lens Flare requested that the mares reposition. They were clearly among the more ardent of the princesses’ followers, as was made clear by their choice of uniform. Celestia’s followers had opted to forgo their cuirasses, leaving their muscular torsos exposed, giving the impression that they were aiming for a particularly macho appearance. The guards on Luna’s side, on the other hand, with their refusal to wear pants or even underwear, looked like they were ready for a costumed orgy.

“Listen.” Lens Flare ran his fingers through his strawberry mane, pulling the hair out of his eyes. “Let’s dial things back. How about…we try to think of this a little differently.” He took a deep breath, perhaps hoping that at least one of the other ponies would do the same, but none did. “Pretend for a moment that this isn’t a photo shoot. Pretend…that you’re in your rooms. You are relaxing. You are at rest.” He tensed before he added, “And if there just happens to be a…big fuzzy boulder of gelatin that you feel next to you…you can rest assured that it is merely a big comfy bean bag chair, completely innocuous.”

Celestia grimaced and snorted. “I don’t understand how that is supposed to help—”

“Fine,” Luna interrupted, throwing up her hands in a shrug. “If it will expedite this process. I have much familiarity with the act of painting over reality.”

“What?!” Celestia blurted back in disbelief, unintentionally taking a step closer in the process. “This is ridiculous! If you think for a moment that I’m going to play pretend and sidle up with that ass of yours—!”

“Hmm? What is that sound I hear?” Luna proclaimed, seemingly to any pony in particular, while she closed her eyes. “Some terrible bleating outside my quarters? A shame, some animal must need to be put down, but I am certain it will be handled by the appropriate ponies. It is of no concern to me; it is time for me to take a well-earned nap after dealing with my sister’s incompetence all day.”

“Y-You—!” Celestia’s face was going red with fury and sparks were dancing around her horn. The Sun Guard contingent beside her looked similarly prepared to lunge into action at a moment’s notice. Lens Flare was beginning to wonder if this was a mistake when the alicorn barked, “Fine! If she can do that then so can I! I’ll…I can relax too!”

The stallion behind the camera breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, your majesties, it will only take—”

“You’d better get my good side!” Celestia shouted at him. “I will be most displeased if I go through all of this for an amateur photo!”

“Yes, yes, of course,” he grumbled. He wondered if Celestia was aware that she only really had one side—attempting to look at her from the front would have only offered a tableau of breasts, just as Luna from behind was nothing more than blue-and-black buttocks. “Now if you two would please each take another step inward?”

And so they did, with a minimum of any further outrage, their gargantuan globes wobbling as they shimmied to the side, until soon enough they were touching, white and blue planets together, squishing, compressing. Luna seemed to hold her breath and purse her lips, as if holding back a scream, while Celestia still looked incensed, gritting her teeth. After a brief period of finagling with his camera, Lens Flare announced, “Alright, we’ve got a shot. Remember, relax.”

“I shall gladly do that,” Luna replied, and she sat down on the floor. There wasn’t much difference between her standing and sitting, her buttocks still reaching about as high up over her head. It didn’t seem as if it was a particularly comfortable place to sit, but that was different when one’s thighs and rump were acting as a mattress and cushions. She didn’t have any qualms about spreading her legs and showing her crotch to the whole gathering of ponies present, or to the hundreds who would eventually see the photograph to come from this encounter.

Celestia didn’t have quite the same luxury; she could lean into her breasts for support but not exactly recline upon them. There was still red tinging her face, but this was more of a simple blush upon her cheeks. He noticed the slight way she quivered—her arousal was climbing. They had both clearly been in the throes of stimulated excitement the whole time, even as they yelled at each other, but the elder princess seemed to be having a particularly hard time keeping it under wraps. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she couldn’t hide the reaction that came from her breast brushing against an equal fleshy girth.

But Lens Flare didn’t especially care to trifle over any details like that at the moment. They were finally quiet, cooperating, and together in the frame, and that was all he needed.