The day at the Academy was one that was bright and sunny, for once. No teams were hauling around storm clouds. No pegasi were doing there best to clear away the skies from debris. Most of all though, no pony was even here. That made sense, of course, when one knew that most of the Wonderbolts were at an Air Show in Fillydelphia, riding on a War Cloud (a storm cloud ship used in war times), and firing off flashes of thunder and lightning into the random sky.
Of course, that being said, there was one pony stuck watching the place. It wouldn’t do to have the entire compound abandoned just in case there was a problem. No, instead they’d drawn straws, and with the unluckily one left behind, they’d gone off to have all the fun. At least, that was how Thunderlane saw the event, as he did his routine, training in the hoops, and eyeing the Dizzitron, which he’d been told not to touch.
“Man, this is just dull,” he said to himself, doing another lap around the track in record time, for him anyway, and then coming in for a landing right in front of the main barracks. The large building, designed to house the Wonderbolts, stood cold and empty, but Thunderlane actually smiled as he trotted inside, feeling that same swell of pride he always did at making the cut as he made his way past the door to the sleeping rooms, and towards the baths.
That was what you’d been waiting for, of course. As the stallion made his way to the back of the base, you slipped out from where you’d been hiding, holding a prize in your hands that would make everyone back at home respect you. Said prize was around your waist, with you having to hold it up due to how big it was compared to you. A hula hoop made of solid gold, with a gemstone that shone in a rainbow of colors dotting one end.
This was the reason you’d come here, on this day, when all the defenses of the Academy would be so toned down that someone your size, barely as large as the fetlock’s height on the smallest foal, could slip on undetected. You knew, however, that slipping off again was going to be difficult, but you had an idea about that, and as the stomping hooves of the giant pony passed by the office of Spitfire, you followed him, running as fast as you could.
The run is easy enough, even with the heavy band weighing you down. Over the months or years you’d been here, you’d gotten stronger. Because you were smaller/denser maybe? Whatever the case, despite the stallion taking one step for almost a hundred of your’s, you followed right behind him, and then rushed through a swinging door as it swing shut, leaving the pair of you in a wash room.
The room is huge, compared to you, but you’d grown used to that over time. Large benches tower overhead, with lockers stacked double beside them. Not that Thunderlane seems to see any of this as he makes his way through the room, to a large set of open doors on the other side. He then reaches up to his neck, and with a snapping sound, unzipped the front of his uniform, letting the blue and yellow garment sort of peel off him.
“Now’s your chance, Michael,” you say to psych yourself up, watching the uniform fall to the floor in a heap, while he takes a few steps out of it, shaking the ends of his hooves to get them free, before stepping into the chamber beyond. The moment he was out of sight, you bolted for his uniform, your tiny footfalls sounds like explosions in the silent room, but you hoped to make it across before he heard them.
The plan was simple enough. Get into his uniform. You’d observed this particular stallion. He spent as much time at his home as at the Academy, and you’d overheard him saying he’d get some time off to do just that. So you’d hide in his uniform, and simply ride him back to Ponyville. There, you’d find somepony to hawk the jewelry with, and make out like the bandit you were, living off the heist for some time.
Of course, all good plans have their faults, and this one was no exception, as the stallion did something unexpectedly detrimental to your headlong rush across the floor. He smacked a button and turned on some kind of fan outside, designed to keep the moisture in the shower he was climbing into. To him, the fan was loud, but not too powerful. To you, on the floor, the air went from still and quiet, to hurricane force gales which catapulted you into the air.
Luckily for you, you were pretty solid, something people had been finding out about themselves in this pony world. Falls from several times your own height would only leave you sore, rather than broken and dead. The arc in this case, was the problem with this, as the sudden blast of air caused you to sail high up, and with the stallion only just turning around, you landed on his back with a plop and a rustle of hair.
Thunderlane, for his part, felt only a small pressure on his back as you landed, and rolled his forelegs a bit, thinking it was just a bit of sore muscles, before he walked up to one of the shower heads, and with a push, turned on a jet of powerful water. Streams of the stuff poured out onto his tired body, and the heat of it made the air muggy and hard to breathe, while the jets pounded onto his tired back.
On said back, rising out of the hair, you stood in the waist high fur on his body, and looked up in fright as he went towards the wall. Even after all this time, you recognized the sort of device he was going towards, and you eeped in fear as you considered every possible option. The only problem was, looking down, you saw an open drain below, without any kind of grate over it, and that limited you.
If you fell off his body, you’d be swept down into the drain, and this was a pegasus facility. It processed its water into clouds, and while you didn’t know how that worked, you knew it wasn’t going to be healthy to be part of. That left staying on him, but that wasn’t going to be easy. The water of the shower would make his fur slick, and the way his body moved would make it impossible to stay atop it.
In that split second before he could turn on the jets and wash you away, you made a choice, and ran for his rear. Not just the rear of his body, but his actually rear end. His butt was likely to be the only place you could get stuck without him immediately knowing what was going on, and that made it the only possible place to hide, and still keep your prize, which you hefted up a bit as you ran for it.
The muscles beneath your feet moved and surged as Thunderlane walked. The fur parted like wheat, and the skin beneath it all dimpled only slightly at your weight. If this had been grass, the journey over his back might have taken minutes, but your panic, mixed with the fur’s willingness to part, let you make the run in seconds, reaching the tail of the stallion just as the jets surged, and a wave of water came cascading along his back.
You have no time to consider, plan, or anything else. All you can do is make a leap of faith, sliding along one of the hairs that make up his tail, and then swinging into his butt. The action is less than pleasant, but at least he seems to be a pony who keeps himself clean, as you find yourself shoved deep between the cheeks of his bottom, which allow you to slip between them, just as the waterfall from above comes crashing down.
The sudden intrusion of something between his cheeks makes Thunderlane take notice, a thrill running down his back and causing him to lift his head high upwards, for a moment, before turning. His mane flops wetly against his side, as he stares at his flank, and rubs at the cheeks on his butt, feeling something within squirm a bit, but otherwise it felt nice, actually, making him moan a little as it moved.
Inside, your nose was assaulted by the scent of sweat, the air tasting of the salty liquid, though at least clean of other things that might have fouled it. Still, you cough a bit, and then have the air squeezed out of you as the soft walls crush against you, your arms feeling the strain as you push against them, trying to make room for yourself, even if it brought you attention you didn’t want.
Outside, Thunderlane shrugged after a few seconds of messing with his flank, and just decided to let it work its way out later. Instead he grabbed a bottle of soap, and made a nice sudsy bath for himself. Within him, the smell of disinfectants, chemicals, and other such things invaded the space you were in, and oddly, were no better than what you’d been smelling before, the conflicting odors making you gag even as you pressed your arms against the walls, forcing them to part.
This last was probably not the smartest idea, as the walls parted towards the upper position, and instead of freeing you to breathe, it sent a torrent of water down into his crack, which washed over you, soaking into your clothes, and forcing you to move even deeper into his body, a body that rippled and moved as he felt you go farther in, his hooves pressing into his flank from both sides, to either drive you all the way inside or to squeeze you out.
Luckily for you, you found a sweet spot, somewhere just before the entrance to the rest of his body and the outside word. Deep between his cheeks, where the pressure of the walls was actually not so unbearable as the flesh around you was soft like a blanket, letting you have just enough room, feeling only slightly the rumble and tumble of his huge body around you as he washed himself, dried, and then got back into uniform.
He shook his rump, trying to work the thing inside out, but gave up when he heard the noise of voices outside, and shot through the Academy, getting out just in time to meet the other bolts in the sky overhead. There, he saw what looked to be a battered and bruised ego or two, as stories were swapped of some human outflying them in some kind of Crystal Golem or the like, but none would share the whole story, and his pressing only caused Spitfire to order the stallion back to Ponyville, and advising him to read the morning paper later.
Miffed that nopony wanted to share, but happy for the excuse, Thunderlane shot off to home, wiggling his butt the moment he was out of view, trying to force the thing between his cheeks out again, even trying to let rip with something from deeper inside to push it out, but nothing would come, and so he resigned himself to the feeling of the object as he shot off towards Ponyville and a nice warm bed.