At least a quadruple entendre
Lightning Dust had always taken great pride in being the best. Not just among the best, but the actual quantifiable number one top-of-the-pile. That's not to say she was egotistical (she was also egotistical, though she would vehemently deny it.) It wasn't the case that she thought she was the best when she clearly wasn't, and was perfectly happy with other ponies also holding that coveted top position in addition to herself. Realistically, there were so many other ponies in the world that there was no way she would be the only one at her exact skill level.
What got under her skin was being second best. Being beneath someone. Not that she personally blamed Rainbow Dash, of course. Spitfire, maybe. But Dash? Dash's only crime was being good at flying. If Dust was going to hold that against her, then she might as well be holding it against herself.
That didn't mean it didn't hurt to be told that she was number two. And not just that, but to be told that she was number two in a very public setting. In front of the entire Wonderbolt Academy, and not nicely either. Spitfire had violently tore off her lead pony badge in a big public spectacle.
That was what got to her the most. This small, private argument she was having with someone she still considered a friend was suddenly made into this huge public deal, with her at the bottom. It wasn't like she was getting kicked out of the academy or anything. Just mildly reprimanded for an accident she was only partially responsible for which didn't even hurt anypony.
Okay, yes, she'd gotten carried away. Shown off and quickly gotten in over her head. And yes, while they had shown up in a no-fly zone in a giant fuck-off hot air balloon of all things, that would only have absolved Dust of guilt had she not also been breaking the rules. Normally, she would have happily taken whatever punishment her superior officer deemed reasonable. But Spitfire had taken things way too far. What should have been a mild infraction was treated with the same level of gravity as a court martial and dishonourable discharge. Like Dust hadn't just broken the rules but somehow personally slighted her.
Which, she supposed, might very well have been the case. Spitfire had personally appointed her as lead pony in a similarly flashy ceremony, and had personally vouched for her skill multiple times. The incident was a fuckup on Dust's part, but that in turn reflected poorly on Spitfire's decision. So she publicly rectified her misjudgement. An understandable reaction.
Horribly unprofessional and unfair, but understandable.
Of course, it was also perfectly understandable that Dust was upset. Very upset. Not at being labelled second best in the academy, of course, but at the public shaming and also at being labelled second best in the academy. It was a sore spot, something that there was no way she could ever not have taken poorly.
She might have overreacted a little from that point on. But only a little.
Dust held the glass bottle up to the crisp light of the morning sun, sitting on the edge of her dorm room's bed. She let the light filter through the translucent liquid onto her face as she contemplated her next course of action. The bottle itself was fairly large – slightly larger than the average wine bottle, though made of clearer glass than was typical. Clear enough not to obscure the blood red liquid inside. A full litre of whatever it was, if the salespony was to be believed. Dust was very inclined not to. It had been sketchy as fuck. A shitty wooden stall manned by an elderly unicorn mare on the side of the road, offering a variety of “miracle elixirs” that nopony in their right mind would have spent actual money on. Certainly, the vague promises of promoting health and wealth and good luck and sexual prowess hadn't been enough to convince Dust that it was anything other than a scam. But when the salespony had promised her that the miracle elixir would make her the “hottest flier in all of Equestria,” well...
Dust had three more bottles of the stuff in her duffel bag. She'd bought them on the way home for the break in between summer and fall semesters. Here she was, two weeks later, on the first day of the fall semester, and she still hadn't worked up the courage to actually drink any of the stuff. Which was irrational, of course. She would be very surprised if it were anything other than water, sugar, and some red food colouring.
But, well, she hadn't exactly been in the most logical state of mind upon buying the stuff. To be honest, she still wasn't particularly in a logical state of mind. And even if it was snake oil, there was no guaranteeing that there were no “medicinal” ingredients that might potentially be dangerous.
And worse, what if it worked. Last she'd checked, chemical performance enhancement was strongly frowned on by the Wonderbolts.
“What even is that stuff?” Dash asked blearily, barely awake.
“Vitamin water,” Dust lied. She thanked her lucky stars that the dorms were only two ponies per room and not one big common room with no privacy at all. She knew Rainbow Dash well enough to know she'd buy that excuse hook, line, and sinker. The same couldn't be said of any of the other cadets.
“You know that shit's basically just soda without the bubbles, right?”
“Yeah but my mom bought me a shitton of the stuff and I might as well drink it.”
Dash shrugged. “Well, 's your decision I guess. I'm heading to the showers, you wanna come with?”
“I think I'll stop by the Gym first and shower after that.”
“'kay, seeya there.”
Dust sighed as Dash left the room, continuing to sullenly stare at the bottle. What was the worst that could happen if she just had a sip? Quite a lot of very unpleasant things, ranging from illness to expulsion to death. And to top it off, no matter what the outcome she'd make herself look like an idiot.
Dust unscrewed the cap on the bottle and took a sip. The elixir was incredibly bitter, with salty undertones and an unpleasant metallic tang to it. Like coffee, brewed too strong and seasoned with salt and blood instead of sugar and milk. She gagged slightly, forcing herself to swallow. “Ech,” she muttered as she replaced the cap and shoved the bottle back into her duffel bag. Whatever it was, it didn't even have the decency to taste good. She resolved to dump it down the shower drain as soon as possible before slowly standing up and getting ready to hit the weights.
Once again, Dust had let her emotions get the better of her, making an impulsive decision that quickly came back to bite her in the ass. By the time she had changed into workout clothing – sports bra and slightly-too-small boyshorts under a black sweatshirt and dark grey sweatpants – and traversed the hallways to reach the weight room, she was thoroughly convinced that drinking even a small amount of the elixir had been a stupid idea. Her body felt heavy, her movements sluggish and her muscles sore. Like at some point in the past three minutes she'd caught a terrible cold. Obviously she was feeling the effects of whatever the elixir actually was – thank Celestia she hadn't drank a lot. Her head swimming, she stumbled her way over to one of the benches on the side of the room. In the state she found herself in, doing any kind of workout was probably a bad idea, much less weightlifting.
“Hey, cadet, you doing okay?” Spitfire idly said by way of greeting, focused more on her own workout than the newcomer.
“Caught a bit of a cold on break,” Dust lied again.
“That doesn't look like a bit, kid. You look like a walking corpse.”
“I'll be fine, just gimme a minute.”
“Oh, no. None of that.” Apparently that was enough to warrant Spitfire's full attention. She put down the large iron dumbbells she had been doing squats with and strode over to where Dust was unsteadily standing. “Look at the state you're in. It'd be wildly irresponsible it'd be to let you touch any kinda weight equipment like this. Go sit on the benches for an hour and rest, and if you feel better after that then maybe I'll let you get a bit of a light workout in. Under strict supervision.” Dust opened her mouth to object, but Spitfire quickly cut her off. “That's an order cadet. If you hurt yourself on my watch, I get in trouble and we're out a promising candidate.”
Dust briefly considered objecting further, but decided not to. She had initially been intending to sit on the benches anyway until Spitfire had told her to do so, at which point she impetuously decided she wanted to get in a workout. She'd already let her base emotions get the better of her once today and, well, look where it had gotten her. “Yes, ma'am,” she replied reluctantly before turning and taking a seat on the benches at the edge of the weight room. Satisfied that Dust wasn't going to push herself, Spitfire calmly returned to her own workout.
Speaking of base emotions, Dust noticed that Spitfire had decided to face away from her while doing her squats. She had fairly good form, though at the moment Dust was more interested in the fact that this particular exercise, viewed from this particular angle, gave her a very good look at her CO's butt. A lifetime's worth of athletic and military training had left it firm and muscular and defined, but also it was quite large. Round. Wide. The fact that she was doing squats specifically meant she didn't even have to do anything to draw attention to it or emphasize it because the motions of her workout did it for her. Though the candy red bikini bottom certainly helped that along. It was clearly slightly undersized, likely entirely intentionally. The fabric sank in between her cheeks, inching slightly deeper with each dip. The twin orbs of Spitfire's ass were perfectly outlined, glistening with a sheen of sweat.
Dust no longer felt particularly ill. Her muscles still felt heavy and sore, but the nausea had conspicuously vanished and her vision had steadied. In place of that, she felt hot and horny. There was a tightness in her chest, like her skin was stretched too thinly over her body, and a burning in her crotch.
As discreetly as she could manage, she crossed her legs to hide the wet spot that had blossomed on the crotch of her pants.
Initially the weight room was fairly sparsely populated, but that quickly changed as the morning progressed and more Wonderbolts and cadets filtered in to make use of the facilities. Dust had never really paid much attention to it before, but it was really weird that every single Wonderbolt was super attractive. Also weird was that she was the only one who opted for baggy workout clothing – the rest universally wore tight-fitting tank tops and bikini bottoms. Dust squirmed on the bench. Eyes darting around in an attempt to find somewhere safe to look but only encountering bare fur, heaving breasts and jiggling asses and the occasional bulge from the handful of stallions, all practically glowing with sweat.
Dust noted that her mouth suddenly felt awfully dry.
She didn't even register pulling the bottle of elixir out of her duffel bag, or unscrewing the cap. She did register taking a large swig of the stuff, mostly because of the way the still very unpleasant taste filled her mouth. Again, she gagged, but swallowed nonetheless – she was clearly dehydrated, and needed the liquids. Or at least that was the logic her lust addled mind came up with. Were she in a more coherent state of mind she would likely have made the connection between her current state and her earlier taste of the elixir.
She also likely would have noticed that her clothing was getting tighter.
Lightning Dust was not a very curvy pony. The natural result of being as athletic as she was, she told herself while pointedly ignoring of Spitfire's fat E-cups. She was svelte. Athletic. No time to be insecure about her bust when she was too busy being the best. Curves, she had decided, were much more fun on other people.
Not that she would object to having a little more oomph, of course. It's not like curves would get in the way of being an outstanding flier – she selectively chose to acknowledge Spitfire's enormous tits and big fat ass as an example. She just wasn't interested in actively seeking curves out, the way many other mares chose to.
At first, she attributed the odd pinching sensation to whatever the elixir had done to her. Merely an extension of that tightness in her chest, and certainly not a sign that her sports bra had suddenly become a cup size too small. Her mind didn't even consider the possibility. Meanwhile, she just outright didn't notice the way the waists of her boyshorts and sweatpants were beginning to dig in to her blossoming hips. No one else was acting like anything was unusual, either – her clothing was still loose and baggy enough to conceal the growth. All she noticed was how ungodly hot she felt. Like she was sitting fully clothed in a sauna set to full blast in the middle of a desert and hadn't drank in years. Celestia, she was thirsty. Again, without really thinking, she took a swig of elixir – this time she was practically chugging the stuff. Of course, she only really noticed this when the first bottle ran out. It was, she supposed, a good thing that there were three more in her bag.
On the other hand, of course, drinking the elixir had been what started this whole mess, and she'd just chugged most of a litre of the stuff in one sitting. Clearly, unless she had somehow become severely dehydrated in the past few days, hydration was not the issue. No matter how thirsty she still was. Certainly, drinking more of the stuff wouldn't help anything.
Dust had already pulled out and opened the second bottle when Rainbow Dash interrupted her. “Holy shit, what the fuck happened to you? You look like you got into a fight with an angry tornado and lost.”
“I caught a cold over the break,” Dust said, repeating her earlier lie. “Guess it was worse than I thought it was.” Her voice came out raspy and hoarse, almost husky, and deeper than normal.
“Yeah, geeze, you look dead.”
“I feel dead.”
Dash reached over. “Here, lemme just check if you have a fever-” She placed the back of her hand gently on Dust's forehead before sharply yanking it back. “Ow! Fuck!” She shook her hand gingerly. “You're fucking scalding. That's definitely not healthy.”
Dust's mind didn't entirely register how odd that was. She still hadn't noticed the other side-effects – the bigger tits, the wider hips, the fatter ass, the good four inches of height she'd put on in the past few minutes, the fact that she had been drinking the elixir without realizing it, the overwhelming burning need. The fact that she apparently had such a severe fever that it hurt to touch her, though, was too much for her to gloss over. That wasn't normal. It wasn't something that happened. “I should go see the nurse, shouldn't I?”
“You're not going anywhere, you might burst into flames or something. I'll go get some help, you just concentrate on not dying.” Dash had already turned to leave, but briefly looked over her shoulder. “And stop drinking that vitamin water stuff, it can't possibly be good for you.”
“Wha?” The lack of weight in her hands suddenly hit her, and she stared blankly at the completely empty bottle that had been completely full before she started talking with Dash. She didn't even know when she'd had a chance to drink any of it, let alone the whole thing. That left her with two more to go before she was out completely, which on further thought was a very strange way of wording that. She shrugged, dismissing it as whatever was wrong with her making coherent thought difficult, and discarded the empty bottle, pulling out the next one.
Her body was at this point operating mostly on instinct. What little rational thought remained was beginning to cotton on to the fact that something was wrong here, but it was pretty clearly too late to stop it. And anyway, why would she want to stop it? She felt mildly uncomfortable and really fucking horny, sure, but that was hardly life-threatening. Whatever was happening, it felt good. And sure, perhaps that was her mind getting mildly warped by the transformation. But, strangely, she had a hard time bringing herself to care.
In the time that it took her to think all that, she had downed the third bottle of elixir. Maybe twenty minutes ago the fact that she hadn't even noticed downing three entire bottles of the stuff would have been incredibly alarming, but here, in the moment, she didn't really care. All it meant was that she still had one to go before she was finished with them. And then things could really get started. What those things were, she didn't really know, and were she not resigned to her fate she would have been very concerned by that fact. As it was, she found herself almost eager to find out. Her mind had begun to take notice of what was happening to her body, though just how much she'd grown hadn't quite clicked yet.
None of the gathered Wonderbolts seemed to have noticed – their loss, she supposed – but her loose-fitting black sweater was no longer particularly loose-fitting, nor were her pants. A good two or three inches of significantly-chunkier-than-they-had-been-the-last-time-she'd-paid-attention-to-them calves were exposed for the world to see where before they hadn't been, and what of her body was covered was starting to strain the fabric. It hugged tightly to curves that had decidedly not been there this morning and Dust loved it. Her top, not to be outdone, had ridden up just as significantly, exposing a good amount of soft midriff. A small part of Dust's mind was mildly annoyed that the figure she'd spent her entire life working for had vanished in the span of a few minutes, but a larger part of her just cared about how good getting bigger felt. Idly, she reached up and groped at one of her fat tits, the almost head-sized lumps in her shirt bulging oddly as they strained against her now far too small sports bra. It felt good and she wanted more.
She had already opened the final bottle of elixir at some point, but she decided that she wanted to be aware that she was drinking it this time. Slowly, she raised the translucent green glass to her lips and tilted it back, sipping and then gulping and then chugging. Somehow the flavour had changed – the bitterness and saltiness were gone, and the acrid, metallic tang had been replaced by an almost alcoholic burn. Like really expensive and really strong spirits. It had less of a taste and more of a texture, flowing down her mouth in an almost syrupy fashion. It was still hardly what she'd call pleasant, but at least it didn't immediately trigger her gag reflex. Even if it did, she would probably have forced it down, as now that she'd noticed them she found herself quite thoroughly enjoying the changes it had caused.
She allowed herself to fall back into instinct, glossing over the rest of the final bottle. She'd experienced enough of that to last a lifetime. She was less interested in the cause than in the results. She could feel it now, her body growing, changing. Her fingernails lengthened and thickened, their position shifting as they transformed into big, sharp claws. Her fur drifted away in big clumps, revealing shimmering cyan scales beneath it. As she finished chugging the final elixir, she casually tossed the empty bottle aside with slightly more force than she probably should have. It bounced on the ground with a dull thunk and rolled off somewhere that she didn't particularly care to track it to. Her stomach let out a low groaning gurgle, and then she let out a quiet burp – and with it, a small jet of flame.
“Ah,” Dust muttered idly to herself as a grin slowly spread across her face. “It was a pun.”
Her stomach growled again, louder this time. She was quite surprised that none of her fellow Wonderbolts had noticed the minor commotion her growth was causing yet, especially considering it was getting progressively more and more obvious that she wasn't just sick. Even if she were, the fact that she was rapidly losing her fur should by all rights have drawn some attention. To say nothing of the strained snap as her sports bra finally failed in its valiant struggle to contain her enormous tits. They had not, she noted, grown much bigger since the last time she'd noted them, still approximately the size of her head. But, of course, that was only speaking proportionally. Her breasts hadn't grown much compared to the rest of her, but that was mostly because the rest of her was also growing. Much faster than she had been at first. Shakily, she pulled herself off of the chair and onto her feet, standing up – and up and up and up. Forget inches, she had to have gained a good few feet of height. She had never been a particularly big pony in most regards. Lithe and slender and, yes, a bit short. Under four feet, though she'd always hated to admit it, and decidedly the shortest Wonderbolt.
Or at least she was decidedly the shortest Wonderbolt. Now, she was easily the tallest. She towered over everypony else in the gym by at least a foot – she had to be at least seven feet tall at this point. And she had still gone unnoticed, somehow. Well, if they wanted to ignore the fact that there was a mare who was transforming into a big sexy dragon lady in their midst, that was their fucking loss. She stumbled her way to the doorway – dragons, her lust-addled logic went, were big, and she didn't want to risk outgrowing the building while still inside it. Though, on the other hand, that sounded kinda hot. She stood at the entrance, briefly weighing her options, when her body decided for her.
She almost dropped to her knees as she was hit by a wave of pleasure far more intense than she'd ever felt before. She couldn't help but let out a long, low, loud moan. Even if that hadn't been enough to finally get the attention of the collected Wonderbolts, the cause of her moan made enough noise to draw all eyes onto her. Her tail bulged and then exploded, lengthening and thickening until it was as long as she was tall, and then a few feet more for good measure. Her sweatpants, already strained beyond what they were ever designed to hold, ruptured at the seams and hung uselessly by the waistband. With a deep, guttural growl, Dust grabbed the remains of the garment and tore them off, discarding them as thoughtlessly as she had the final bottle of elixir. “Fuck, that felt good,” she groaned, her growth briefly slowing back down. That wouldn't last for long, though. She could feel another big change brewing in the pit of her stomach. Sure enough, she let loose another low moan as, with an almost sickening series of wet crunches, her hooves shifted and changed into big, meaty dragon paws, tipped with thick, razor sharp claws.
Dust braced herself against the suddenly much smaller doorframe. “Moooore,” was all she managed, her tongue lolling out over razor sharp teeth that had happened at some point. Her tongue itself was much longer, long enough to nestle comfortably between her generous cleavage. Her wings spasmed, shaking loose her remaining feathers and revealing big, leathery things, like a bat pony's. Or a dragon's, she thought with a giggle. That was everything – she had the scales, the claws, the tail, the wings, and the fire. She couldn't think of anything else she needed to be a proper dragon, and yet she could still feel another big change building. Instinctively, she turned around, facing back into the gym. There wasn't going to be the time to get out, she realized as the pressure, the tightness grew and grew along with the low rumble of her gut.
The Wonderbolts, she noticed, seemed to be panicking. She could barely make out any individual words they were saying, of course. They were all so tiny compared to her – the tallest was just over half her height, putting her at around twelve feet tall. All of them were milling around in vague distress, though none were making their way to the exit because she was currently blocking it. “Only one exit? That's a bit of a fire hazard,” Dust said idly, licks of flame dancing from her mouth. “Ooooh, I can feel it comin'. Biggerrrrrrrr bigger bigger biggerrRRRRRAAAAAAA!”
Her cries for more devolved into something between a roar and a cry of orgasm, her climax accompanied by a massive gout of flame that danced across the gym's ceiling. This time she did fall to her knees, which was good because in addition to the fire and the roar, her orgasm was also accompanied by the one thing Dust still needed before she could be a proper dragon. Within a few moments she found herself having to duck, and quickly was reduced to being on her hands and knees. And still she grew, in big, uneven jolts, several feet at a time. “Oh fuck this feels good,” she forced out in between orgasmic growth spurts.
Idly, she looked around at her surroundings. She was very quickly filling the available space in the gym, forcing the fifteen or so assorted Wonderbolts and Wonderbolt cadets to huddle terrified in a corner. She dimly recalled staring at them earlier, baffled at how every single Wonderbolt could be so fucking hot. Now, though, they were practically ants in comparison to her gigantic bulk. She outdid pretty much every one of them on every front, and she was a dragon to boot. Of course, even though she was the hottest, that didn't make them not hot. They were all still wearing incredibly tight, revealing swimwear, showing off their trim, athletic bodies and generous endowments. Ample chests heaved in time with panicked breathing, everyone still glistened with sweat – even moreso than before, considering the amount of heat her draconic body was radiating. They looked absolutely delicious.
The dwindling part of her that clung to rational thought pointed out that was kind of a weird adjective to use to describe her co-workers. Former co-workers, really, if she was honest. She was pretty sure dragons weren't allowed on the Wonderbolts. But still, it was the word that came to mind. Suddenly, the way Dust had found herself suddenly extremely thirsty the last time she'd looked at the Wonderbolts, she found herself feeling very, very hungry.
Lucky for her, there was a nice little snack just standing there within arm's reach.
Dust didn't really think much as she reached out and grabbed the closest Wonderbolt – who, ironically, turned out to be Spitfire. “C-cadet! Put me down this instant!”
“Hm. Gee, I dunno. Tell you what. I'll put you down and let you all go free if you step down as captain of the Wonderbolts and let me be captain instead.”
“I- you- You can't just-” Spitfire sputtered indignantly for a few more moments before taking a deep, shaky breath. “Okay. Fine. You can be captain. I resign. Now please just put me down and let everyone go.”
“Hmmmmmmmm,” Dust said, placing her free index claw on her chin in an exaggerated parody of thought. “Nah, think I'm just gonna eat you instead.”
Spitfire made an attempt to object, but her words dried up as Dust opened her mouth. Her teeth were enormous, razor sharp and blindingly white, connected by thick strands of saliva. Her tongue undulated slightly, pressing down into her lower jaw to give Spitfire an unsettlingly good view of her throat, the vast passage dimly lit with a flickering glow, like torchlight. “H-hold on, you're not actually gonna eat me, are you?”
Dust didn't bother to answer, not with words at least. Actions, in this case, spoke much louder. Dust crammed her former boss into her maw headfirst, shoving her deeper and deeper until her powerful throat muscles could do the rest of the work. Her neck bulged obscenely for a brief moment until Spitfire passed through and settled into her stomach. “Oh, yeah, that felt good. Fuck you, you stuck up cunt.”
“Yeah, uh. I wouldn't wish death on her, but to be honest she was kind of a bitch.” Dust's head darted to the source of the noise, a blue stallion with a dark mane whose name she honestly couldn't be bothered to recall – he was too far beneath her now for her to bother with. “Yeah, uh. Hi. Soarin. We never really talked much because I'm not usually at the Academy. Hi! Please don't eat me!”
Dust briefly pondered eating him, but ultimately decided against it. “Nah, I think I'm full. Just gonna sit here and digest for a bit before maybe growing some more.”
“Uh, about that,” Soarin said pleadingly. “Could you please maybe consider not doing that for, like, five minutes while we evacuate?”
Somehow, that hit a nerve. “The fuck did you just say, little man?” she growled angrily, small jets of flame seeping from between her angrily clenched teeth.
“It's just that you're kinda big already and I don't think the compound can take much more! I just wanna make sure no one, uh, no one else gets hurt. Then you can grow as much as you want!”
“I'll grow as much as I want right fuckin' now. Who are you to tell me otherwise, shrimp?” Dust felt hot, a sudden tightness in the pit of her stomach that was somehow distinct from the tightness that had signified the beginning of her ascension. “Lemme tell you something, I'm the biggest around here and that means I'm the boss.” There was a deep, powerful rumbling sound that echoed through the increasingly cramped room. It was different from anything that came before it, but somehow Soarin found it to be distressingly familiar. “That means what I say goes. And if I say I wanna get bigger, then you'd better get the fuck outta my way, because what Lightning Dust wants, Lightning Dust gets. And Lightning Dust WANT.”
Dragon greed is a very dangerous thing. It is known, as much as it is known at all among ponies, for occurring to adolescent dragons. But, while juvenile dragons tend to lack the self control of adults, it is perfectly possible for any dragon at all to go mad with greed if they weren't careful. And, unsurprisingly, a pony who has been transformed abruptly into a dragon isn't really going to know to be careful, and even if they did they very likely wouldn't care, given the nature of that kind of transformation magic. Or at least that was what Twilight had said when she'd loudly and angrily lectured Rarity that time she'd turned herself into a dragon and almost wiped out Ponyville. Dash wasn't entirely sure that this was also Rarity's doing, but... Well, no, it was probably Rarity's doing. Whenever someone turned into a sex-crazed giant out of nowhere, it was almost always prudent to assume Rarity's involvement.
The issue, really, was that dragon greed didn't have to be for something material. A dragon could, in theory, be greedy for anything. Usually it was money, in the case of Spike's unfortunate incident it had been just whatever was in arm's reach. But the way this very specific kind of transformation worked, there was one specific thing that any effected pony was going to want.
“BIGGER!” Dust roared, likely loud enough to be heard for fuckin' miles. She had already outgrown the Academy compound, and far surpassed the sizes Rarity had reached. Impressive, but given that Twilight Sparkle had been on hand once Rarity's desire for more had started to really snowball, Dash decided to call it a draw. Still, Dust was growing very quickly, and with every foot that piled on the pleasure spiked. And every time the pleasure spiked, Dust cried out for more. And every time she did, she got more. A potentially endless feedback loop. That was why Rarity wasn't allowed to turn herself into a dragon anymore.
Of course, no one had said anything about turning other ponies into dragons. “The next time I see Rarity I am going to murder her and no jury in the world would convict me,” Dash hissed through tightly clenched teeth before flying up, up, up to Lightning Dust's face – which was already significantly bigger than she was, and getting bigger. The massive dragon wasn't paying much attention, being much too busy playing with her fat tits and pumping her thick tail in and out of her leaky cunt to pay attention to the little ponies. “Oi!” Dash shouted at the titaness in front of her, She tried her hardest not to breathe in too much, and even then she was almost overwhelmed by the stench of sex and brimstone.
“Oh, hey Dash. 'sup?”
Dash sighed. “Nothing much. Just... uh... probably gonna be heading out for a bit. I figure that, you know. It's not fair that I get front row seats to the party just 'cause I was around when it started. Wanna alert people so they can catch a glimpse, you know.”
Dust, if she registered Dash's unsubtle plan to go get Twilight and have her put a stop to this, didn't show it. “That's a good plan. All of Equestria should be aware of their new goddess's ascention.”
“Okay cool.”
“Hey, Dash.”
Dash stopped abruptly. She didn't want to risk pissing Dust off by ignoring her, or by continuing to leave while talking to her. But she didn't exactly have all the time in the world – already, in between starting this conversation and turning back to look at her, Dust had gone from around fifty to around a hundred feet, and was only getting bigger faster as they talked. “Yeah?”
“Who's the hottest flier now?”
Dash let out a deep, deep, deep sigh. “You are.”
“Damn straight.”