Spike takes a very impromptu visit to the land of satin.
Spike can have it: the love of his life.
But it means being small and owned. Carried around by the greatness that is Rarity. How long can the bliss of fantasy last? And how much longer can Spike hide on Rarity's person before being discovered by someone else?
Spike wiggled behind the brim of a stocking, which flexed over him like a blanket, cradling him against overwhelming amounts of thigh. Smooth white wobbled behind, rocked by the footsteps below, curving to the stride of the leg, a pleasant ride that caused his back to sink into the soft flesh.
On the other side, another leg arched and strode, a magical view for the dragon.
Spike struggled with glee. Softness beat into his back from the impacts of Rarity's walk. The stocking held him tightly to ensure he felt every pounding step. There wouldn't be any moving. No chance of escape—not that he'd want to. The stocking's lacing had been done tightly.
He wouldn't slip over or under the brim. Peering over the latter, however, the dragon saw the miles of slender towers that sprawled to the ground. A red carpet stretched below like a landing strip. Rarity's black, blurry heels traversed its distance.
Around the thighs, the end of a white dress hung like a dome, a sheer fabric. It flounced in the giantess's steps, permitting a faint view of the world. Other giants stood afar as cameras flashed. None of those photographs would reveal the little dragon tucked away on her person.
Only by peering through the fabric of Rarity's dress could they see him, her thigh spilling around his shape. Squishiness layered his shoulders, and rested on his head, the mass pushing against his back, delightful softness and warmth bending and curving his spine.
Spike sighed as he looked above. Two thick thighs joined striding waist. Black panties cupped Rarity's underside, shifting and flexing, a jostle to the landscape in every footstep.
He could make out the impression of her mounds. They were concealed hills that stretched the fabric. The air buzzed with warmth and the taste of roasted strawberry. Spike imagined the inside of that paradise. To be flushed against heavenly lips in a cot of pure satin.
How the hell did I ever get here…
Rarity had a sudden fascination with clothing for dolls—miniature designs that could actually be worn. It was a few days before the auction's dinner. Spike had been at the boutique, helping with the outfits to be sold at the charity.
Spike fell on his knees to Twilight to make something. Twilight chastised him. But for such a lively outfit to work… it needed to be developed on something living. A living doll wouldn't give the required feedback. Instead, someone would have to be shrunk for Rarity's idea to work.
Hesitant, Spike volunteered. Drinking a prismatic potion, he spent a week as Rarity's inch-tall doll. Rarity was thrilled, loving to handle him, feeling his feet tap on her palms. She jiggled him between her fingers and rolled him from hand to hand—any little way she could handle the living thing.
Then came the modelling. Fingertips brushed across Spike's body, and a nail would tap him into position. Spike didn't mind. Not when the girl of his dreams could stomp a city. Or when her immense face focused on the inch that was his existence. It tickled him pleasantly.
And the day-to-day was magical.
Rarity left him on the dresser as she changed: trusting him not to peek. He'd check over his shoulder repeatedly, seeing a skirt drop from her waist, the FLOMP! of fabric striking the ground. Skin-to-scale contact felt nice.
Rarity would scoop him into a palm and bring him to her cheek, nuzzling him with a field of warmed, white fur, a plushness beneath it all. Her warmth flushed into him. A blissful embrace that would happen suddenly and last for a while.
And it was by chance that, one day, left on the dresser, which he used to run track on, that the window had been left open. It was a broad entrance to the blue, outside world. A gust of wind struck while he ran, sweeping his feet and lifting Spike into the air. It cast him over the dresser's edge—where a drawer had been sticking out.
Spike plummeted inside the darkness, crashing into frim, silky cushioning that softened the wood beneath. He rolled across something vast and neatly folded, slowing near the edge of whatever 'land' he'd been on.
Spike raised to a knee and stumbled on fabric. The inside of the drawer loomed like a narrow, empty warehouse. He could make out the back wall in the dim distance. Behind him was the front of the drawer. Light shone into the darkness, revealing the stack of dark panties.
He'd fallen into heaven.
It was a sacred place. Somewhere that existed—but that Spike would never see. Clothing rose like buildings across the landscape. Some rose higher, and others were shorter, all thinned due to being folded. Violet underwear mixed with pink and red. At the very back were the open cups of Rarity's bras.
I need to leave.
Spike needed to get out. Pretend this place never existed. It was an unknown, forbidden zone. One patrolled by a Goddess. Her footsteps rattled distantly in the boutique, roaming in search of him. She'd uncover him. Light would flash across the drawer. A hand from the sky would claim him.
Then the darkness inside Rarity's fist would become Spike's eternity.
But Spike couldn't help himself. Not when fresh raspberries enriched the wood. Even after a wash, each article couldn't remove Rarity's purity of smell. Spike stumbled forward, passing in the space between towering stacks of jade panties—ones that fit nicely on broad, white hips. They clung to feminine shapes without an extra inch.
Spike walked out of the alley into a crossing between the piled clothing. The left lane revealed the folded crotches of scarlet panties, each stacked and rising up, forcing his gaze to climb to see the top. To the right was a simple pair of violet underwear, spread and not folded, a smooth, satin landscape that asked for his feet.
He went to the panties. Its glossy texture massaged his soles. Spike carried across their surface, unable to feel the floor through their many layers. To the right was a closed leghole. Stepping into the pool, the dragon lowered to his stomach, lifting the brim of the leghole and crawling inside the underwear.
It was pure darkness with the impossible hue of purple. Fabric rustled, laying over Spike's wiggling form. Freshness emanated from the article. It was like crawling through a thin, collapsed blanket. Soon the ground transitioned from satin to latex. Spike had reached the even-thinner waistband and, turning on this back, began to relax.
Spike lay there. Tucked between the waistbands, blanketed by pinched fabrics, warmed by a cool smell. Part of him wished he could spend the day like this. Crawling through gigantic clothing. Knowing who it all belonged to. Where they had been—and to which hips they would fit to again.
Not a bad idea for a new hobby.
Spike had relaxed enough to crawl out of the band of the panties. Knees tapping across the wooden floor, he rose to see the mountainous bra looming before him. Two black, frilly domes that laid open like bowls.
The bra was a more challenging climb. His claws could prick through the material. Neither cup had the slightest lean from his weight—they were true mountains. Spike reached the top and toppled into a cup. Falling into darkness, his back smacked into something firm, sliding into the depths of the dark well.
The ride stopped at the base of the cup. Spike laid back as the article cradled him. There was a swirl of perfume in the air. Something that sweetened his nose and relaxed his lungs. Everything guided him to slumber.
Spike rolled to get comfortable, a little yawn escaping him, the warm air acting as his blanket, the curved padding of the cup becoming his bed. He nuzzled the frilly fabric covering it.
The little creature laid back in paradise. Lost inside the darkness of a bra, the article wholly containing him. It completed him on a deeper level. It would be a climb to escape this place.
Spike fell asleep. Thunder knocked on a door outside the dresser. A door squeaked, and his name was called. The goddess rumbled inside, stalking around, searching for the little rat, unable to find him. Moments later, the drawer jolted as it was pulled.
Light shone into the darkness.
It was with an "Ah-hem" that the world had ended.
Spike's eyes cracked open. His claws groped around the frilly padding. The shadow of a face replaced the blinding from above. Mane flounced like a curved streak of a purple waterfall. Annoyance burned into the surrounding air. A stern expression loomed over the drawer.
Spike awoke with a little stretch, kicking his legs and pushing out his arms, squinting to see the goddess above. The angry, scowling look of an angel overwhelmed his vision. Massive eyebrows arched in demand of an answer.
In stretching out in the bottom of a cup, the little dragon retracted into himself, suddenly becoming bashful. Sweating, he choked, clearing his throat, barely able to squeak up to the one angel who consumed the heavens with her presence.
"H-Hey, Rarity."
Rarity's sudden smile wasn't amused. "Hello to you as well, Mister Insect."
That's not the response you want to hear.
"How do you care to explain this?" Rarity asked while leaning closer, the shadow of her frame falling ominously over the drawer. Her nose's exhale swept into the cup. "Your lovely little romp through a lady's clothing? Your pleasurable nap inside an oddly shaped hotel? Hmm?"
"I-It's not like that!" Spike's minuscule words bounced off the goddess's face. Rarity's expression asked for him to try again. "Okay! It's a little like that! But I didn't mean to end up here! You left the window open, and I—"
Rarity's arm crossed over her chest, its shadow crossing over the dragon, the force felt in the air. "Are you seriously casting the blame on moi?"
"No! I'm not blaming you!" Time to be really careful with your words, Spike. "Just… the window was open, alright? Wind came in and swept me over the edge." He scrambled inside the cup, shouting from the bottom of a clothed well. "The drawer was open enough that I fell inside. And… yes! Once I got in here, I just… I lost myself, alright? I couldn't help it. You always buy the best stuff, and I just…"
He sighed and turned away from the looming face. "Look. Do whatever you need to, okay? I'm a pervert. I went through your clothes. I took a nap in your bra. You have every right to be angry. I'm just… I'm sorry, Rarity. I'm really sorry."
Rarity watched him. Hovering over his world with the ability to end it. Rarity's perfect face framed by perfect hair. There was a glint in her eyes. A new smile that seemed more dangerous than the one before.
"You're an honest little dragon, aren't you, Spikey-Wikey?"
He weakly turned back and smiled. "Only when it's a sin to lie to someone like you."
"Do you love me, Spike?"
That question destroyed his existence. Peeled away his scales to reveal the soft flesh beneath. It was an impossible task. She knew the answer already. His love casually loomed in the air.
He never confessed with words.
Just asserted it in every other possible way.
"Yes." Spike nodded softly as he lay on his side. "More than anything."
"No matter what?" Rarity's face lowered to the brim of the bra, a few inches between him and Rarity's eyes. There could be no escape. She trapped him inside. "Nothing could scare you from me? Not a single revelation that would cast that love away?"
"Nothing about you can deter me," Spike said with an odd, unknown certainty. But it was true. Nothing had broken Spike's intensity for Rarity in all their years together. "You've never put me off. Even the bad parts of you make me love you more. I just… I love you, Rarity."
He sighed and went on. "That's all I really know. That I love you."
Rarity smiled sincerely. "You speak as if I'm your true love."
"Because you are."
"And if I never return that love?"
"T-Then… t-that doesn't matter, either." Those words hurt. But they were the truth. "Loving you is enough. Being close to you is a privilege. The memory of you is all I need. It's enough. All of it… it's enough."
Spike felt like he was talking to a goddess. A deity that knew her beauty and wanted to be worshiped for it. Spike wasn't a part of the equation. Nothing. Not even his thoughts and feelings, his life as a whole, should have been an iota of concern to a girl like her.
Everything should be about Rarity.
About the perfection she cast onto the world.
Rarity's size lowered into the cup, pushing inward, filling its space until her approaching lips filled Spike's vision. Before the stunned dragon could scramble, the pair collapsed on him. Soft, warm, and fuzzy. A touch of wetness blessed his scales. It was a quick, gentle kiss that infused him with love.
Slowly, the lips raised, their breath filling the place, their giggle echoing.
With a hum, the goddess rose from the dome, resting her arms on the dresser above, coming to lean over Spike's world. Mane fell around Rarity's face. She smiled down at him with mirth.
All from kissing him.
"You're too cute for your own good, Spike," Rarity chided with a smile that could end the world. "Never let a girl know the power she has over you. She'll hold it over you completely. She'll want to see all the ways your little face can change."
Rarity then looked into his eyes. "And I love you as well. Enough to confess a wish that'll make you reconsider this."
"N-Not…" Spike choked. "…p-possible."
Rarity laughed at that before becoming lost in thought. Her blue eyes looked away as Rarity entertained an idea. A grin emerged. Something warmed the whiteness of her face as it sprawled across it. "There's no pleasant way to explain this. So I might as well indulge in your... naughtier side."
A delicate hand scooped him from the cup. It lifted before the rising frame of the lady. Pulled for a quick kiss, Spike was lowered to the drawer. The vast, empty wood made him miss Rarity's skin. Behind him, a tall mirror stood. Rarity's reflection consumed the glass. Turning around in thudding, resounding steps, Rarity bent forward, pushing out her hips, beginning to slowly pull down her designer pants.
Spike's heart raced at the display. The curved broadness of the bottom that hovered over him—that could drop worlds of squishiness onto his existence. The pants lowered to reveal the cheeks beneath. White, plush, and deliciously curved. Black underwear emphasized their perfect shape.
Kicking the pants aside, the lady turned back around, another wobble to the world, nothing but hips entertaining the dragon's vision. Broad. Round. Fuzzy ivory contained and contrasted against jade panties.
Rarity smiled from a lofty height. The dragon was a little below the curve of her panty-covered crotch.
"I'm sure it must have been delightful crawling around a lady's clothing," Rarity's voice spoke from above his vision, while hands came to rest on her hips. She leaned to the side, flexing the panties. "But should you wish it, you could simply purchase a pair and shrink down at your own leisure. No, no. That won't do."
Rarity chided. "What makes your situation truly unique is clothing that's been recently worn."
Her fingers slid underneath the waistband. Tugging out the band by the sides, the goddess twirled on her heels, revealing the bareness beneath. "How about this pair, Spikey? Would you like to crawl around in panties fresh from my hips? To feel my lingering warmth in the fabric? Imagining the skin they touched, the things they held? Have you ever dared to imagine my innermost scent?"
Rarity tugged the panties down. Sliding them down her legs and stepping out of them with ease. She loomed before the dragon with the pair in hand and, with a smile, dropped the article on him. Spike looked up to see the spread of warm darkness. It fell on him, the weight of fabric collapsing him to the wood.
The material burned. Rarity's body must have been like coals to the panties. Her heat lingered as satin weighed the dragon down. Spike laid there for a moment, forced to breathe everything in.
Rarity's scent tickled his snout. The molecules of her perfume mixed with her natural odour. Inhaling it was dangerous. It was a spice that had the touch of cinnamon on it. There was also a touch of perspiration. Not sweat—but something else.
Spike shuffled. His form made the tiniest lump in the lax fabric. Laughter sang outside the tent. Rarity must have been amused, standing naked, watching the weasel navigate her underwear.
Searching blindly for a way out.
After a few more moments, the little dragon finally crawled out the side of the fabric. It draped across his back and spines as he slipped out. Coming into the light and standing, he turned and looked for the goddess. He saw Rarity's hips to the left. Vast. Immense. And fully exposed.
Above. Rarity towered with crossed arms, smiling hungrily.
Something had amused her.
She pointed at the crotch of the panties like an owner telling a pet where to go. Gulping, the little dragon turned, carefully stepping onto her underwear. Steam nearly rose beneath his foot from the fabric. Smooth, silky flooring warmed his feet as the smell of Rarity rose around him.
Reaching the center of the panties, he turned back to the goddess, who watched him from the sky.
"Look at you! So tiny and small… stranded on a little pair of panties. So helpless! I can barely hold myself back from gobbling you up!" Rarity moaned, sucking in a lip, wanting to fall on the little one. "Would you like to be inside my panties as I slip them on? For me to pretend like no one is inside as I pull them to my waist? To go about my day as a little dragon is lost inside the world that is my bottom?"
Spike didn't—or couldn't—answer.
"Because there's a fantasy I've been wanting to indulge in as well," Rarity hummed a predatory tune. "And seeing you like this has me turned to it again." There was burning between her legs. Rarity's hand lowered to her crotch, a finger pressed on her slit, sinking between the silk, stroking up and down before the tiny boy. "I've always wanted to own someone. Have them at my beck and call. Know they are wholly dedicated to me. Subservient to me. That I am their everything."
Rarity's eyes closed as she pleasured herself.
It wasn't fair to Spike. Standing on top of recently worn panties as the goddess played with herself. It added to his arousal. That denial to the greatness before him.
"Would you be willing, Spike? To be owned? Worn like jewellery? Set in different places on my person—used to please me?" Rarity's eyes opened to him. "Could you live the rest of your life in my palm?"
Rarity then grinned. "I would let you have me. Every night in my bed and every morning in my bath. You could choose my outfits: they would be your home for the day. We'd have our fun. But your life would be focused on me. Could you live like that? Would you be willing to become mine?"
It was a hard ask. Hard… because everything inside Spike wanted it. He wanted to be worn like a necklace, thrust around in a miniature cell, hoisted over the amazingness of Rarity's chest. To be with Rarity no matter what. Hanging out on her counter as she brushed her teeth or did her make-up. To be around her, close to her, like a small pet.
And the games she promised sparked his lust.
"To admit this to another is a terrible thing to do," Rarity confessed. "But if your perversion matches mine… then, perhaps, this will work to our mutual benefit."
Spike stood there for a while. Looking up at the goddess, he couldn't help but try his luck. "And… what about me? What do I get in return?"
Rarity grinned. "Then I'll put those panties on." She leaned forward as her face loomed directly above him. "With you inside them."
Spike couldn't fight that. Couldn't deny the lust of being with the finest knockout in all the world. He nodded and agreed. Gave every indication that the lady now held his ownership. Rarity smiled at this offering. Enough to lean forward to pick up the dragon and the panties. She brought him in for another kiss. An explosion of lips spread out over him.
Her fingers then rolled him inside the open panties. Heated darkness rose around him again, as did the holes to his sides. Looking above, he saw the goddess's face blowing him a kiss. She then went on to speak. "Pick a side, Spikey."
Spike, laying back for a moment, couldn't help himself, turning and crawling to the back, scampering across the spread of satin. Rarity's eyebrow rose at his choice. "Perverted boy. Do you crave to be with my backside that much? I hope you have the strength to endure."
In the mirror's reflection, the lady lowered the underwear to her feet, slipping them through, sliding the article up her legs. The fabric slipped and spread across her cheeks. Rarity was forced to wiggle into the panties as her ass struggled inside.
Elastic snapped to her waist as the underwear conformed to her bottom. Rarity twisted in the glass, indulging in the view. With a hum, the lady strolled out of the room, a slow, extra sway to her hips, with a little dragon in tow.
Fingers descended from above, wiggling between flesh and stocking. Pinching Spike, the fingertips plucked him from beneath the dress. Distantly, he watched Rarity's waist take a seat on a chair as the hand raised him to the sky.
Where Rarity's face loomed before him like a cloud.
"Enjoy your ride?" Rarity asked, smiling. "It was delightful—knowing you're down there. My thigh squishing all over you. Perhaps we should try for latex sometimes. Feeling you buried should prove an experience."
Spike gulped. He was a burning, blushing mess, destroyed by Rarity's perfection. Her face became amused. Teased. Seeing him squirm pleasured Rarity. The effect she had on him: all that her body could put him through.
"Thank you again for coming to the latest reveal of my outfits," Rarity began. "But don't forget our friends are coming as well. They still don't know about this little deal of ours. I've agreed not to tell them. But if you get discovered—well, that is another matter entirely, is it not?"
"What's that supposed to—"
The fingers released him. Spike fell as Rarity's chest expanded beneath him. He crossed his arms and braced for impact. Spike struck black fleece, sinking into the fabric, the softness beneath, bounced by the sponginess of the two.
The little dragon laid forward.
What's your game, Rarity?
The black fleece was faintly see-through. The tease of rounded white loomed beneath the fabric. Spike blushed in being stranded atop the massive breasts. Looking forward across the sloped, fleece landscape, he saw the border of the lady's collar bone.
"Would you look at that?" Vibration buzzed the chest and rocked the dragon. "Our friends have arrived! So rude of me to sit and not greet them."
Spike struggled to stand as his feet sunk into the squishiness beneath the dress. He tried treading forward, but sunk only more into the softness, falling on the warmly-heated landscape.
"R-Rarity!" He knelt and looked up at her chin, which was turned to the approaching party. "You have to hide me!"
"I will do no such thing." Even with a turned head, Rarity's smile stretched into Spike's view. "You'rethe stowaway. And a good little stowaway knows how to hide."
Rarity winked.
Spike wanted to be angry, but nothing rose inside of him.
All that touched Spike's face was a smile. Cheeky girl.
Others soon approached the table. Friends would see a little dragon struggling to swim across Rarity's covered chest. There'd be an onslaught of questions and teasing. More… if the lady, afterward, stuffed him inside her clothing.
Her clothing! That's it! I just need to hide somewhere inside Rarity's clothes!
Spike knew where. Standing between the twins where the fleece sagged in the space, the dragon looked beneath the wobbly flooring, seeing the crevice of Rarity's cleavage. Broad. Deep. A squishy hug of delight.
Dropping to his knees, the dragon flexed his claws, sawing at the fabric, the sharpness gliding across the dense material. Overhead, Rarity's unseen eyes flicked on him. Her torso twisted, and he flew sideways on her top.
The action stopped with him laying back in a little cot. The rising curve of her mounds rose at his sides, cradling him. He looked forward and above to the humorous face of the lady. It stared at him directly. "Naw-aw! It doesn't matter how small you are, mister. My dresses will have zero imperfections."
Her twisted smile returned. "Find another way."
Distant footsteps boomed closer. Recognizable chatter cut through the usual bubble of an event. Spike felt the world closing in—without a place for him to hide. Anyone could see him. Could glance at the lady and see the speck of purple on her dress.
None could see him. None could know that he let himself be owned.
Or that he dedicated his life to exploring her body.
Spike looked at the distant border of Rarity's collar. Without options, he sprinted the jade field, footsteps sinking into the fabric, bouncing on the flesh beneath.
It felt like running across a warm, gigantic waterbed. Reaching the wall of Rarity's exposed collar, he flushed his back with the smoothness, miniature waves wiggling across the white, sliding beneath the brim of the dress.
Rarity peered down at the wiggly-dragon slipping into her chest.
Must be pleased to have her body become a landscape.
Spike slipped inside Rarity's top. Landing in a sprawling trench, he looked forward, seeing golden light shine on the massive mammaries.
Spike chuckled. He didn't mind the sweat. Not when the furs of the twins brushed him while he crawled forward. Rounded whiteness consumed the space: as did feminine heat.
Spike twisted in the valley to look up. The fleece ceiling revealed a hazy view of the other giants in orbit. The girls had arrived: greeting each other and taking a seat. It wasn't before long a general chat floated over Rarity's chest.
Why do I feel watched?
Spike rolled onto his back, wobbling the surrounding flesh, and swallowed an inch deeper. Fat softness welled over his sides like one laying back in water. Spike's focus was on the other giant's face. The one sitting next to Rarity and squinting at her chest.
Rainbow Dash.
Spike stopped wiggling and held his breath. He wished for the cleavage to swallow him more. Drown him beneath the tight white until he felt submerged in milk. He was a purple grain. Surely Rainbow wouldn't notice that.
Pry deeper.
Spike flipped onto his front. The boobs around him, no matter how hard he pushed, would swallow his force. His claws sunk into their surface. The structure of Rarity's bra contained the twins perfectly. So much for parting the sea.
Instead, he sank his claws into the cleavage, a tightness forced to be wiggled through, creating a miniature pocket. The dragon dove into the opening as the rest of his wiggling body followed. Once inside, the flesh closed behind, sealing him within the space. Milky fat bubbled around him. Cradled, he looked through the overhead slit.
In the sky, Rainbow's gaze flicked elsewhere.
Good. Looks like I can hide out here.
Spike looked around his little pocket, feeling one rounded wall rise as the other fell away, changing the shape of his holding cell. Holy light showered the place. It wasn't all that bad in retrospect. Rarity's breathing caused the whole of her chest to push out, floating. The sensation, that subtle sway—it all was really comforting.
And arousing.
"Good heavens!" Rarity's voice rocked like a quake across the chest, a raise and drop to the pocket. Surrounding flesh smacked around, softly hitting the cradled dragon. "Did they turn up the temperature? Maybe I'm wearing too many layers."
Spike laid back—terrified. Unable to help himself, he wiggled his face through the cleavage, feeling its immensity morph around him. A hand flew across the sky and lowered to an unseen side of the chest. Buttons plopped as the surrounding fabric relaxed. Seconds later, some of the dress was removed.
A thick flap cover over Rarity's chest had been pulled away—tucked into a button underneath her other arm. The fleece ceiling had thinned so that more light shone through. The dragon could nearly see the outside world with clarity.
His shoulders and arms plopped from the pocket—both pinned to his sides. Behind, Rarity's face loomed like a mountain cliff, the bottom half in view, a snarl of a smile eating Spike's vision. She hadn't been the only one to notice.
Rainbow glanced again.
"Rather rude to stare directly, Rainbow Dash," Rarity's voice buzzed the outward winds. "Would you mind indulging a little decency to those eyes of yours?"
"U-Uh." Rainbow blushed and blinked and looked away. "S-Sorry. Just… thought I saw something, s'all."
"Mhm."
Rainbow looked away, but sometimes, her eyes flicked on the dragon. She saw purple. No doubt about it. The question was, what the heck is that little thing? It bugged Rainbow. She'd do something rash.
And the dragon would be found out.
Rarity exposed her chest for public view. The little dragon tried returning to his pocket—but the bra housed the twins too tightly. Too immense was their size. He couldn't hope to pry the merged flesh. No. He needed a new place to hide.
Think. Rarity hasn't given an unwinnable game yet. She hates it when there isn't a chance. How does she want you to escape? Falling inside her dress? Possible… but she wouldn't endanger me like that. No. Rarity set me on her chest for a reason.
Spike looked further down the trench, the long haul between the furred mammaries, where black domes clasped their fronts. Despite how they squeezed the flesh, the cups didn't seem all that hard to wiggle inside.
The little dragon slunk out from his hidey-hole, already prone, resuming his crawl to the front of the chest. There are other ways to get me inside your bra, Rarity.
Spike waited for the overhead faces to settle in conversation. Once so, he crawled forward, tucked between the boobs, feeling their shape widen. His shoulders brushed the fuzz of the walls and the skin beneath, a lingering heat that bathed the area.
Coming to the split between the twins, the dragon came to where fabric pinched boob and, turning to lean his back on the boob—sunk into it. Sunk enough to create a little opening in the cup. Forcing his claws through that, the rest of him squirmed inside, the cup's clasp sliding over him like a firm, fabric wall.
Spike turned once the fabric closed after him. Padding clasped his back to the swell of the mountaintop. Sweat doubled. In the darkness, the mound twinkled white. Splayed to the boob, Spike's angry cock stabbed into the soft tissue, which sunk inward, collapsing around his arousal, encasing it in rubbing furs.
He couldn't help himself. Spike humped the side of the boob. His squished-spines rolled across the curve of the cup as his body sunk into the warmly rounded mass. Minuscule waves broke across the flesh as the faintest wobble heaved the landscape. His cock stabbed into the fat of the boob, again and again, a harder, deeper push, where the flesh squeezed his member ever harder with absolute softness.
There was no risk of slipping beneath the boob. Not when the bra had been done too tight, and the scaling-mammary pinned him so. All he could do in reaching the bliss near orgasm was to stop, the resulting jiggles of the boob rocking him in place, returning what he had given before settling.
An amused laugh sounded outside the prison. Pleased at how the dragon pleasured himself—and how the boob took care of him without any further action from the giantess. Her body was enough to sate him—to deal with him. Knowing that was an added delight.
Rarity knows what she does to you. She wouldn't want you to just stay in here. Hiding out is just too much. I just… I can't…
Arousal could be a different kind of pain. Watching the upward arch of the boob, its overhead curve disappeared from view, the cup sealed to the skin. Looking left revealed better results. Where the alley between boob and cup was somewhat straight—but curved to the front of the mountaintop.
Her tit.
Spike tickled the goddess. Her overhead voice weakened at every other word. Sudden bursts of laughter quaked the place, like a rise of waves in the sea, crashing and jostling the zone, the boob expanding within the confines. He'd been pinned by immense squishiness sealing onto and flattening around him. The most petite, burning pocket, where the air was Rarity's odour and the taste was her sweat.
Spike should have been a good boy. Let himself be toyed and pinned by a humongous breast that Rarity was half-aware of. Her little dragon was barely more than an accessory. Something hidden that brought tickles to an ordinary life. None else knew of the wiggly-dragon inside her top. Of how her boob, rounded and full, peeled off him as the giantess leaned back.
But the dragon wasn't content to be abused. Not in the slightest. Doing his best to shimmy to the left, he crept across the large, spherical mass, a face and cheek pinned to the burning, squishy skin, as fur washed over his face.
Tightness doubled in the sweep from the side of the boob to the front, but, wiggling through the crevice between fabric and fatness, one wobbling and the other not, the little dragon exploded into a bit of an opening. The smallest space at the front of the cup, right of the nipple, where pink spread like a saucer.
Spike leaned into the padding of the dome, near its lower half, a foot kicked onto the front of the boob, using that to support himself. His other foot dangled to the slit composed of breast and polyester. It was hottest here. Raw skin with little bumps, which tickled the underside of his foot as it glided across Rarity's areola.
The strained air worsened. It was nothing but Rarity's heat, dense with the smell of her skin. A healthy sweat coated the dragon as he dripped onto the fabric. Rubbing his forehead did nothing to remove the wetness. His cock gleamed pink. Part of him, in need to grip it and look high to the left, wanted to jerk off to the tower of her tit.
It was fat.
Broad. Clumpy. Yet loosely refined. It arched without sag. It demanded pleasure and worship. The areola demanded to be licked of its candy-pink. The nipple to be straddled, rode and humped, a pleasing tool for the dragon to latch onto.
These things, hiding out in the dark, in their own individual worlds, are all part of the staggering woman.
Spike grinned. Leaning forward and falling onto the boob, he straddled its curve, the mass pushing his torso. He crawled the boob without the back support of the cup—which laid a few feet behind. It was a pure climb of fatness, the holding of heated skin, the clumping of flesh in a claw.
He pulled himself up. Absentmindedly kicked at the boob, which jiggled the shock away, to find footing to push himself on. Every strike of the boob, every action of the climb, was carried in little waves across its surface.
Rarity had noticed him. Impossible not to. But Rarity continued on with her overhead chat.
This is where the fun begins.
Latched to the boob, the dragon reached to the left, touching the side of the nipple, able to squeeze the tough skin. Shudders tumbled down the landscape, swaying the chest, a swing to the boobs. Spike held tightly as the shock of the throw nearly broke his grip. Everything settled as Rarity sat normally. Inside her bra, at the front of a cup, the dragon reached for the nipple again, gentler this time, able to pull himself aboard.
Would Rarity try to stop him? Smack her chest to overpower him? Pinch him to her tit to see how much he could really take?
There wasn't an attack. No whispers of Spike to stop. Laying on top of the tit, which stabbed outward and enlarged, he thought himself to be given a pass. Pressing his face to the bumpy skin, he kissed the salty-sweetness, claws feeling across the girth of the nipple, stroking it, tickles across its scale, a bout of squeezes that barely depressed the skin.
Spike's tongue extended, working on licking every inch of sensitive skin, not letting a spot dry. He crawled forward, the tender mast thickening, more ground expanding beneath his belly. It all still narrowed neared the end of the tit, which overlooked the boob and the bra—like a pirate walking the plank.
Reaching the tip of the tit, the dragon found it inches from the slanted fabric of the cup. The nipple tapered, thinned enough for his legs to wrap around its girth, his arms doing the same, clinging to the delicate pillar.
Spike opened his mouth as wide as he could, leaning over the tit and taking its tip into his mouth, which filled in seconds. His eyes closed as he sucked and suckled, bobbing on the soft point as his claws felt around. Moans rang both inside the cup and echoed from outside. Heat increased, and steam obscured the air.
All thought was gone. Feelings removed. Nothing but the arousal of grinding the nipple, feeling across its size with his body, the rubbing of thighs, the moving of lips on its tip, the squeezing of claws to whatever flesh he could find. The feminine structure held him without trouble. He was weightless across its strength.
And how did the lady feel? Having a little dragon inside her bra, unable to escape, barely able to pleasure the pinch that was a single tit? The answer was simple when the dome closed around the boob. When everything became inexplicably tight.
Spike yelped as the cup sealed into his being, squishing his existence to the bone, leaving him utterly pinned. He was flushed across the nipple as the foam-padding pushed into his spine. In reaching behind her shoulders, Rarity had tightened the place with just her movements.
And then.
"Apologies," the voice was simple as Rarity settled again. "It appears my bra requires some tightening."
No, no, no.
There came a pull and a click. A tightening to the prison that the lady was fully aware of. The little dragon whimpered as Rarity knew what she'd condemned him to. The fully-grown nipple was squashed by the cup. He was pinned over its top. Sinking into the toughness only because of the intense pressure of the cup. He'd never felt hotter or more squeezed.
T-This… Spike struggled to think within the collapsed space, secured between breast and bra, unable to wiggle. Never had life been so tight. Nothing stronger than a lady's pride aided by clothing. I-It can't get worse.
Bad move.
Everything tilted forward and fell. Something rose that the boob spread and rested across. Land rose behind the cup, which Spike came to lay on, the padding of the bra and dress acting as cushioning. The rest of the boob fell upon him in a flattening spree across the space. He was pinned to a nipple by the total weight of a squished boob.
And none, even without the bra, could see the lone claw's attempt to stick out underneath fluffy white mass. An occasional twitch rocked the mountain. Rubbed it in place. Further tormenting the unseen beneath.
Rarity rested her chest on the table with a grin, feeling the pebble being squished over, absolute suffocation of her love. Unable to help herself, she rocked forward and back, feeling him gilded about. It wasn't herfault. Not in the slightest. Spike should have been a good boy and hidden.
He'd be teased at the worst.
But then Spike stroked the beast. Warmed her skin and fluffed her fur. Created a swirling in her loins that no bath could cure. Heaving her 'power' over the scamp was a tickling affair. Spike worshiped her. Nowhere in the world could be a greater paradise than the realm inside Rarity's bra.
In truth… Rarity was jealous. Going to such a grand place at such a tiny size. It wasn't fair. Maybe one day, she'd be the tiny one. But, for now, it was her turn to play giantess. The teeny boy was Rarity's to pocket.
Rarity held the table as the girls left for food. Smokily smiling, she crossed her arms over her chest, sinking into it, further compression of the mounds she whispered into. "Now then… has my little Spike met his challenge?"
A touch of magic brought Spike's voice to her ear. "Not the worst of defeats."
"Indeed! Squished by a mere boob." Rarity's head shook to a wave of mane over her face. "Tsk! Aren't dragons meant to be fearsome creatures?"
"Seems we've met our match."
"Giant chests." Such refined talks! But the little rascal had infected her. "I should ring the press. Also… have you decided to submit?"
"You win this one."
"Somehow, I doubt you've 'lost' this."
Rarity felt his smile, the most minuscule tickle. Sucking her bottom lip, Rarity suppressed the urge to smother him. To lean over the table and sink on her girls, a full crush on the dragon beneath. Womanly layering crushing him. Nothing but immense flesh, the purest white, enclosing him. Impossible amounts of weight and size focused on one so ridiculously small.
"Be careful next time," Rarity warned with steam on her breath. "Teasing a lady like that. What should you do when she ceases to hold back?" Despite her victory, Rarity burned with every urge beneath the sun. Her swollen tits matched her swollen lips. "But, for now, let's reintroduce you to oxygen."
Rarity rose as her chest filled out. Going to leave, she bumped into Twilight, who set her plates on the table. Instead of an apology, an idea appeared.
You better enjoy this.
"Oh, Twilight!" Rarity fell into Twilight with a hug, a mesh of their chest, the near touching of their shoulders. "It's been too long! The fact you would sacrifice a Saturday night means more than you'll ever know."
"A-Ah! O-Of course!" Twilight calmed and returned the hug, the two tightly embracing, their boobs squeezing together. Rarity shifted, ground their chests, the dragon smashed and rolled between the pack of girls. "Glad to be here! J-Just wish Spike could have come."
"Mhm." Rarity didn't pull back, feeling him set between their tits, holding him there. Twilight felt the odd poke—but would not question it. "Indeed. Truly a shame."
Fingers entered the tightly-packed dome, grazing across the white garden over the mountain, ceasing the pursuit after touching the little dragon. Pinching him delicately, they pulled from the bra and came to float in the sky above.
The little dragon was dropped on a palm, the other floating above, enclosing the place. Between the guarding fingers, Rarity's face loomed, focused on him. Spike sat back and looked around.
"Not the bathroom?"
A cool wind swept his sweat.
"Would you rather I did that? Pulled out in the ladies' room?" Rarity's smirk became larger. "Would you have liked me to have taken you out while I was seated? Maybe I could have sneaked you into the pants of another."
"N-No! Nothing like that!" Spike waved his insignificant arms. "Just figured we'd have more privacy."
"Never worry." Rarity's face flew inward, and she kissed the dragon in her palm, the weight of her lips pushing him down. Her softness flattened over him for a moment. A touch of wetness graced his scales as Rarity pulled away. "We're alone. I'm not yet in the business of removing you in front of others. Much less from my top."
Her eyes narrowed across his form. "You're not hurt? Not panicked from being squished like that?"
Spike shrugged. "Wasn't squished enough, to be honest with you."
"Spike."
"C'mon! Can you blame me?" He made his best pleading face. "I could be a smear, and it still wouldn't feel like enough."
Rarity blew the mane from over her eyes. "At least you're honest."
"But what was up with that hug with Twilight?"
Rarity smirked. "Don't even try to say you didn't enjoy that." Rarity's face flew behind the fingers, showing only her massive eyes. "I know the naughty thoughts you house for Twilight Sparkle. Or the way you stare at places you shouldn't be looking. Be glad none of us have made a comment so far."
Spike, with an open mouth, couldn't help but chuckle. "And… what? You're helping this pervert indulge?"
Rarity's smoky smirk became a signature of hers. "Pleasing you pleases me, darling."
"Riiight."
They returned to their seats quickly. Rarity strolled to the table with Spike encased within a fist. A bumpy ride threw him around the dark, soft place. It was warm and lightly scented. Tiny cracks of light wavered between the joined fingers.
The first lowered to something and opened. Spike tumbled out onto the terrain of a black cushion. Curiosity tingled as he turned around. Before him was the giantess, towering before the chair, an unbelievable height and scale that blew out his eyes and corrupted his mind.
Rarity was gigantic. Astronomical. A towering beauty of blurry details. It was impossible to appreciate her perfection. Every unique part requires indulgence and examination. To lounge on her shoulders for weeks to really take in their slender scale.
But there was another womanly part that earned Spike's interest quicker.
White legs sprawled upward to the hips covered in a dress. Rarity's rump curved from the dress—which offered extra padding, an enriching thickness to the asset. It neared overhead and bloated Spike's view. The shadow of the rear swept across the cushion.
And the dragon, standing in the middle of the seat, could do nothing as the lady descended, the ass expanding as it grew closer, an impossible spread of thickness of the most condensed marshmallow.
Spike disappeared beneath the butt of the dress, which spread across the cushion, layering it in black fabric, the rump alleviating the giantess by several inches. Nothing could be seen beneath her. There was no hint of anything at all.
"Did you just sit on something?"
"Nope."
Spike fell to his back as the immense dress sealed him, the concealed cheeks spreading at his sides, consuming the cushion. Seconds later, the rump adjusted, brushing him around, the cushion sinking. Soon, the lady had become comfortable—content to sit on him.
Spike laid like that. There was a niche between the cheeks, where the dress flexed upward, leaving him free. Left and right were the thickest portions of the veiled globes. Because he was close enough, the dragon saw through the fabric, seeing the whiteness of the cheeks behind—hugged by underwear.
Rarity resumed her game. Leaning from hip to hip, one cheek would squish while the other rose, the ceiling flexing to different shapes—like watching the northern lights. She'd sit normally. Then bounce, the ass rising, dropping, filling out, and compressing.
What are you up to?
Spike didn't mind it as he wasn't crushed. He was spared the weight as the squished twins held the giantess. Her shadow was heavy enough. Rarity would adjust by grinding a circle or rocking back and forth, the sides of the cheeks, and sometimes the dress itself, pushing him forward and back.
But it was a nice way to be played with.
After a while, the clothed rump seemed to cease its fun, and ahead, beneath its shape, the legs in the beyond had started to spread. Spike could see the edge of the seat and how the legs sprawled down it. The rump raised enough to give him space.
Rarity decided he'd suffered enough underneath her fineness.
But the only way is forward.
Spike crawled forward beneath the behemoth, watching a sky composed of the finest booty, how it curved and its shape changing. He wondered about lying back and waiting for that spread of titanic ass to drop on him. To wiggle and die beneath perfection. To feel the thump after thump of a perfectly-weighted butt fell on him repeatedly—with a little twist of the booty to finalize his suffocation.
But, in crawling out beneath the brim of the dress and between the legs, Spike's destination became clear.
Spike rose between the thighs and looked inside Rarity's dress, the brim flushed against the cushion. Her thighs trekked inside the darkness, parting to reveal ebony panties. Their crotch encompassed the space of a park. So broad but also so tender. A warm, sweetly scented place, that asked if he wanted to come play.
He ambled inside the dress, dazed, lured by the scent of roasted strawberries. Like a little one led into a holy temple, the dragon carried inward, flanked by the thighs that guided him inside, both thickening in size the closer he drew. The velvet texture of the dress became his new flooring in the tunnel. His claw rose to the side of the right thigh. He stroked it like a white, fluffy pipeline as he walked.
Rarity's cheeks loomed at the end of the tunnel. Broad and beautiful. Fat, but dignified. Rarity's panties grappled to contain them. Exposed sides spilled from the underwear. Looking up at the crotch, they seemed like entrance to the temple. They'd become a damped fabric.
Hope you enjoy this climb as much as I do.
The little dragon ambled to the right cheek and, knowing not how to do better, jumped at the cheek, flopping and sinking into the cushion, straddling the fatness the best he could. Slowly, he crawled atop the clump, the blistering heat of the skin matched by the fur tickling him. It was a quick climb to the top of the womanly structure. To his left, the cord of the panties was housed in the tightly-kept crack. It came through it: expanding into the fabric of its underwear's crotch.
Spike reached the side of the panties. They were flexed into her body, flattening a curved strip of fur. He had to fight to get inside. To pry the brim of fabric, a full pull with his whole body, a quick slip inside as it snapped behind him.
Spike squirmed inside the panties, a wiggling lump barely seen on the front of the underwear, lost in view to the overall scale of the article. The slope clung to Rarity's underside without sagging. Flushed to the crotch by damp fabric, the dragon looked upward, seeing the awaiting, towering folds. Glossed already in honey, they sought his company—hungry for a treat.
Above. Rarity's clit peeked. And the air burned with lust.
You're a monster underneath all those clothes, aren't you?
Rarity couldn't hold back the laughter in feeling the itty-dragon climb the underside of her cheeks. She did her best not to move from the tickling of his movements. And not to mind when he laid forward for a time—enjoying her assets.
Spike struggled with her panties after that. Something she could slip off with a finger but, for him, required all his strength to pull not even an inch of fabric. She could have brought down a finger and pulled open the side for him.
But where would the fun be in that?
Now the little dragon wiggled inside her underwear.
It's about time we brought this to a close, little Spikey.
With the lands clasped on her lap, Rarity slipped them inside her dress, stroking the crotch of her panties, feeling the wiggly-lump. His shape was half the size of a fingertip. Rarity closed her eyes and moaned, drawing the lump up and down her slit, feeling a fresh batch of juice starting to ooze.
It caught the dragon and drowned him within the thickness. Each stroke pushed him deeper between the open folds. Rarity's hips rocked subconsciously, feeling him slip inside her lovely tightness. Then, with a hard push of a finger, she felt him plop inside her pussy, and gobbled behind her folds. Content with him within, she continued to stroke, knowing he had no point of escape.
The little dragon stumbled inside her. Rarity bit her bottom lit. Her pussy never felt like this before. Sensitive walls becoming a home to someone so insignificant. Little feet tickled and faded into her depths. Rarity felt every inch of her pussy. Knowing how it housed him—it became a place for her as well.
Rarity felt bigger. Enormous in comparison to her little love. Her pussy swallowed a dragon, becoming a tunnel to him. He couldn't escape her depths. Never hope to escape if a finger or panties wanted him to stay inside. No. He belonged to her. Could be kept wherever she liked.
Spike didn't object to being inserted. Not when he found her most sensitive part and dropped to pay service. The undulating walls narrowed, beating and pulsating, the tolling of a heartbeat controlling the pace. Wetness fell in lazy vines across the dark hotness.
And Rarity, so teased and pleased, slipped a hand inside her panties, focusing two fingers on her clit. She thumped in her seat, rocking forward and back, feeling the dragon tumble inside her pussy, sliding across the wetness.
It didn't take long, pretending to sip water, that Rarity instead doused herself with the glass, screaming for a different reason. Everything became wet. Rarity climaxed with the dragon squeezed inside the depths of her cunt. Clenched by burning softness and washed out with a lady's tidal wave. It pushed him forward, through a lovely hole between the guarding folds, out onto dampening panties.
Rarity fashioned a quick excuse to the washroom. Quickly lifting her dress and pulling out the front of her panties, Rarity peered inside, seeing the dragon fixed to the satin, stuck by the cum, wet to the bone.
And in hearing footsteps behind, slipped her finger from the waistband, which snapped to her waist, and went about striding and cleaning, with a dragon who couldn't move from the weight of all her loves.
Steam billowed from inside the yellow cup. It was a silo that had been filled with warm water for the dragon. He'd gone diving in it to see if he could reach the bottom. A banana hue surrounded him the further he dove. It took a few seconds, but he could touch the bottom of the cup and, kicking from it, swam to the surface.
He broke the surface to waves carrying out around him. He breathed to return oxygen to his lungs. Laughter sounded out from the cup. Whipping around while rubbing his eyes, the dragon came to settle on the view. How the cup rested on the side of the bathtub. And inside the tub, which encompassed multiple seas, the form of a lady carried through it easily, swallowing the vast space in mere existence.
Rarity laid back in the tub with arms stretched outward, chest exposed, hair wet on her neck and shoulders. She looked at her toy with amusement. Spike, swimming to the edge of the cup, crossed his arms over the brim.
"Enjoying yourself?"
"More than you'll ever know."
Rarity seemed to take pride in that answer. The two had settled into something comfortable despite the strange deal between them. Rarity knew her greatness. That she was the epitome of a woman. That the smallest peek at her existence was enough to send one happily to the afterlife.
But having that always reinforced. Knowing a little dragon was always with her—always amazed by every little thing… it set her to a whole new level. Her size leaned forward to the great splashing of waves in the tub. She fell forward on her knees, the sprawling of her side becoming parallel with the dragon.
"Well," Rarity began, "I do suppose it's time I properly washed." Her hand reached over to the two cups before the one the dragon was in. "Some dirty dragon made me messy at a formal affair." She tilted the cup over her shoulders, the contained waterfalls pouring across her chest and back, adding a sheen to something already perfect. "Can you believe that?"
Spike couldn't help but smile at the steam rising from the poured water, or how the lady set the titanic cup back with ease, reaching for the other. Everything she did was perfect in his eyes. Drove him insane without the proper words to convey the intensity of his feelings. It was torture to be with her.
How the simple act of washing was enough to make him crave pleasant suicide.
She grabbed his cup next, rustling the waters, causing them to splash as the pool carried to her face. Rarity watched him with that smoky expression. A titanic girl with a miniscule boy all to herself. It pleased her enough. Rarity swept her mane behind her ear. Something about seeing him up close again made her happy.
And then she dumped the cup onto her chest.
Spike had felt the cup tilt and gravity pulled him forward. He turned and tried to swim away from the beginning waterfall—steam cascading into his face. But soon, the current carried him over the edge, and he was lost inside the water. He fell before the white of the goddess, a smooth striking of her breast, which sank and absorbed the pelt, its slickness carrying him with the rest of the water.
Strangest waterslide of my life.
The water carried him from the side of the mound to the open cleavage, which he slipped through, the titan leaning back. The toned land flexed to provide better grounding. Spike escaped the might of the twins, hidden from her view, carrying across the tummy, over its niceness.
And it was in reaching her crotch that a crop of violet velvet caught him. Spike slid through the rising pubic fuzz, the smooth, thick hairs wrapping around his limbs, capturing him in their hold. The rest of the water flushed through him and the patch of purple.
It wasn't before long that the goddess leaned forward again. Intent to discover what happened, she gazed over her chest, seeing downward, eyes resting on the tiny caught in her pubic fuzz.
Rarity giggled. "Having fun there, Spike?"
Spike tried to wiggle. To break free of his hold. Become loose from the ensnaring hairs and merge with the curve of the mounds below. It'd become a new wish to slip inside the base of that staggering pussy and, with claws clasped together, enter a dive to the waters below.
But, try as he might, the hairs were too thick and strong for him to break free. The woman had captured him. Owned him. Could sink beneath the water and submerge him. Or slip on a pair of panties before bed, and see if he could break free during the night.
Rarity did none of those things. Even though Rarity's hands rested on her hips, boxing in a frame of the little one caught in such a place, one of them had enjoyed Spike's humiliation enough, reaching over to grab the last cup. Slinking back again, she held the water over her groin and, tilting it over, poured the downpour.
The water struck the dragon in a gentle force that swallowed him inside it. He sank beneath the surface in the great openness. It took a few seconds of settling and adjustment before he broke to the surface again. Freed of the hair, he flew from the crotch, seeing the vast curve of the pussy as he fell, squishy thighs next, before plummeting into the warmed sea.
Fresh air mixed with the passive steam over the place. The little dragon whipped again, looking for the giantess. It took a single hum from above to confirm his suspicions. Rarity loomed in the sky, looking down at him, seeing him from over naked breast. The edge of her grin could be seen.
The woman strode forward next, a great splashing following the thighs cutting through the water, great whirlwinds left in their wake. Spike had been splashed up and around by the lands of clashing waters. It wasn't until the lady stopped somewhere ahead that things started to settle.
"Don't mind the waves, dear."
There was no chance to ponder the meaning. Rarity's colossal form fell forward in the water, an expanse of shadow covering the sea, the might of her twins, the greatness of her existence, colliding with the water. Great tidal waves broke as the slap of the sound was deafening. The sudden storm rolled over the rocky waters. The tides broke the dragon underwater.
Currents broke in various directions beneath the water. They thrust the dragon forward, who slammed into a wall of force, one that flung him back, as a sudden weight forced him deeper into the water. His wings flared to beat against the forces flipping him around.
Something massive slipped into the water. Rocked from side to side, the dragon was soon able to come still, floating in the middle of the warmed sea. On either side of him, soft, ivory pillars sank into the water's depths. Darkened the deeper they went, their furs rose, revealing the smooth skin beneath.
He turned in the water to the muffled sound of water twisting. Darkness settled over the sea's surface—replaced by the sprawl of a toned stomach. White, tight, and with a belly button he could sneak into. Further ahead were the massive mammaries he'd spent time with.
The two of them were free, allowed to float in the water with their mass, hanging in their fullness. There was a narrow space between them. Something that, as small as Spike was, he'd be able to swim through. Part of him wanted to swim to the exposed tits beneath.
It was only underwater where the odds were a bit fairer. That the dragon could swim across her scale, no matter the time required, and access every inch at his leisure. But there was another problem with swimming beneath a landscape.
Oxygen.
Spike craned his head back. Golden light, framed between legs, twinkled on the sea's surface. His arms, wings, and legs beat toward it. While he swam, on his sides, the thighs deepened in their curve, reaching impossible amounts of thickness, a pleasure that cried for him to cling to the delightful mush, to snuggle with all that softness, to die clinging to perfection.
But the dragon broke the surface instead. Coughing, choking on his first few breaths, hearing waves splashing around him. They were pelting droplets compared to the slightest movements of the surrounding legs. A casual movement of them parted the seas; a tidal wave spawned beneath their activity, one that slapped the water like a dropped bomb, the tides breaking tub's walls.
The waters jolted around the dragon, but he kept above the waves, waiting for everything to settle. Once they did, he looked from side to side, the back of the thighs that were easy to climb. Behind him sprawled the ankles of the lady, her feet in the great distance, flushed against the walls of the tub.
Then that means…
Spike twisted forward. His jaw lowered at the view. It was impossible to encompass in such a small vision. Details too perfect to be rendered in such insignificant eyes. It wasn't right. Not possible. He barely remembered to tread water. Unable to handle seeing such a beautiful sight before something took him to the afterlife.
On either side and at great heights, the back of the thighs thickened as they rose, a bubbling white that expanded into the mass of ass before the dragon. Twin bubbled cheeks curved like thick hills that twisted his mind into mush. A healthy layering of fat to each added a few inches to their perfection.
And from behind the might of that lax ass, so large that it rose out from the water, the head of the giantess turned somewhere from a distance. From over the booty, the dragon saw the shoulders of the lady, violet hair clinging to them. Half of her face peeked back, not seeing him, but it did something for the small boy.
"I know you're there, little lover." Rarity seemed flushed with those words as she remained still. "And I can only guess as to your current location. Let it be known that you have my full permission. Prepare to board at your favorite location."
That was enough of a blessing to create the starting tingle in the dragon. He flipped from side to side, knowing he could climb those legs. However, as lovely as that would be, the fates had decided on a better place for entry. Throwing one arm after the other forward, he made way to the bulbous white island ahead, the cheeks so abundant that they hardly offered a divide between them.
Spike reached the tightly curved pool boxed in. The backside, along with the starting of thighs, created a hot tub. Before him was the curve of a familiar place. Rarity's pussy loomed before him like an underwater cave. The base of her cunt rose from the water. Plush mounds covered it in their ascending curve.
The little dragon held out a claw. It held in the air. Something was wrong about outright grabbing the mounds of a lady. Much more in using the mounds to ascend the curve of Rarity's underside. But part of him knew that it had to be this way. Delicately, he grabbed hold of the fine flesh, a holy design grafted to a goddess, needing to squeeze the firmness to claim its resistance, able to find hold as the water washed off him.
"Naughty."
Vibrations buzzed throughout the landscape as its ending tingles tickled Spike's claws. It made him chuckle as he curved to the right mound, separating his legs, embracing the mound, its fullness flushed into him, the tickling of fur and the rubbing of the skin adding to the torment of his crotch.
"You said anything went!" Spike called from between the sprawling legs, knowing his words probably weren't heard, but felt the need to scream like a sailor hanging from a mast.
There was a hum from the goddess.
"For such a move like that," the voice continued, the echo like winds carrying over the sea, with a landscape shifting, "I should plunge you inside that place—and never let you escape."
Spike snickered. He'd reached the ending curve of the mounds to the starting thickness of the cheeks. Their slit peered before him. An utter tightness to crawl through. The inside of those cheeks would softly clench him every little second. To be so deeply buried inside that booty as the lady lounged in the water.
Another time, sport.
Spike had decided to climb the left cheek—unsure if he had the energy to make the climb. As it turned out, crawling over an enormous lady tuckered one out. His muscles burned, and his limbs felt lethargic. It didn't help that he was starting with the thickest part of the cheek, where it was so outwardly rounded that, even if he laid all of his weight on it, the softness wouldn't impress or sink inward.
Rather he had to throw his claws high up, unable to bend the plushness beneath his fingers, only able to hold to the flab. He dragged himself up across the cheek. Fur tickled his torso as he pulled himself across its skin. The heat didn't help. The outright feminine furnace that the backside proved to be. It warmed him. The feeling of being inside a sauna. It asked him to quit there. To lounge against the bottom of the cheeks and find sleep.
But he had to climb atop that island. That massive spread of backside. To be on something so broad and beautiful and finally free. Never again would he be so small, with a lady so willing, one sticking out of the water, like an island emerging from the ocean. Bare and exposed. His to explore at his leisure.
His cock rubbing against the cheek also didn't help. Not when it was flushed against the softness, which refused to sink to his weight, remaining full and rounded, his cock forced to push across the firm surface. It was in reaching the ending curve of the underside of her cheek, where he could lay somewhat forward… that an idea emerged.
"Has my little explorer ceased in his quest to adventure across the lands of paradise?" Rarity's voice was so full of itself, no doubt looking back, checking out her ass, that broad beauty sticking out like an art piece.
Rarity knew that something minuscule clung to it. Somewhere on the other side, keeping on like a good mountain climber. "You better be careful. These hills aren't known for staying still. They like to stride and shake. Show everyone else what they're missing out on."
Spike couldn't help himself. None could. Being so small attached to a mountain of curved flesh and feminine warmth. The little dragon wiggled into the cheek, which refused to sink beneath his mass, its substance too strong, too soft, too much to be affected by him. He truly was an insect on greatness. Something that did not belong where it had landed.
But the dragon, in spreading his arms and legs, could sink somewhat across the surface of the bulbous cheek, feeling it spread, how it spread away from him, the absolute center of its greatness.
Warm flesh nuzzled the side of his rubbing face. Feeling the tickles of fur, the smoothness of skin, the heated delight beneath the depth of the mass.
There was a rising between his legs. Slowly and carefully, in the hopes his actions were so small that someone so large would not notice, he began to grind up and down, thrust forward and back, bouncing the bed of white flesh while hills of it surrounded him.
His cock slammed against the cheek, the smallest push into it layering, feeling warm clumps morphed around his cock, hugging and squeezing it, devouring its shape, supplementing it with heated softness. Little jiggles traveled across the tautness of the cheek. It wasn't before long that another hum rang.
"Cheeky."
Her voice again. Knowing the delight the insect-derived from her body. Another hum. The ruminations of a goddess. "Already using my backside to please yourself. Toys aren't supposed to be in want of pleasure. They serve the whims of their owners. Have you already forgotten? You are mine to own."
Despite their inherent aggression, the words spoke in a teasing, dark voice, not meant to condemn—but spur.
The hips flicked from the water, then dropped, a great splash from below, the cheeks bouncing, wobbling into the other, their flesh rubbing all over the dragon, forced to hang on throughout the drop. Their intense jiggling and wiggling over him and into his member urged his arousal to the edge.
"I should shake you off right here," the lady lovingly threatened. "See how long you can hang on before the force is enough to throw you off. Do you think I would let you climb on again… knowing your intent? Oh, no. I would bring the full force of what you cherish down on you."
Laugher played like a melody. Great hips swung, side to side, slicing across the water, sending out more waves. Spike flew left and right as the cheek pushed him out that way, though he clung even tighter, his claws curling further, bounding himself more to the surface of the softness. There wasn't an inch between him and the soft white.
"It would take nothing for me to sit down." Then a hum. "But could you escape, underwater, from beneath a sitting tush? Hmm. Thank your fortune, my sweet. Bringing you pleasure does the same for me. Allow my derriere to finish your service."
Spike hadn't known what that meant as the hips returned to the center of the tub. Far ahead, it sounded like Rarity rested forward on the rim of the tub. Suddenly, the hips bounced, the cheeks doing the same, as lightly as they could.
Spike held onto the squish as the section of the cheek smacked into him, wiggling into his existence, morphing side to side, that abundance of tush morphed in every way to please him.
There was no stopping himself after that. Gripping the cheek tightly, he thrust away, arching out his back, allowing his hips full range to the broadness of cheek.
He humped and fucked, faster and quicker, feeling his dick beat against the wobbling softness, it rising like waves of clumps that softly beat into him.
It didn't take long, as the twerking continued, for him to cling to the cheeky fully, humping like that, unable to repress the electric tingle. His mind clouded in mindless blissfulness as pleasure washed outward from the center of his existence.
Rope of white after white fired from his shaft. The cheek kept bouncing against him, rising and dropping him, forcing him to cling as he came.
Rarity must have felt his finale as, seconds later, the cheeks started to slow, coming to a stop, returning to the shape of a heart-shaped island. Spike clung to the cheek for a few more seconds, content to lay forward, not minding ending the day like this.
But he knew he had to go forward. That peace would await him at the top. Though done weakly, he crossed the cheek's final curve, seeing the rounded top of the united mountains over its edge.
He crawled closer to the center of the left surface, the place where the flesh rose the highest. Turning around, he laid back, able to see across the spread of back, the distant array of shoulders and, of course, the head resting on the rim of the tub, turned back, looking at him with a smokey eye.
"Did you enjoy yourself?"
Spike chuckled. "More than I should have."
Rarity's head rose with a smile. "It's good that you did. But you should be careful. I am not in control of all that you see." Her smirk was wide enough to reveal hungry teeth. "This body craves you. It wants you. I cannot know what it will want to do with you. Or if I'll be able to stop it."
Spike laughed. He took a moment to rest. Looking to the ceiling revealed only a blurriness that proved only its existence. Despite the lack of movements, the waters splashed with the odd rhythm of the sea. Sometimes, the legs behind shifted, rising or crossing, flexing the muscle beneath the cheeks, a sudden firmness rising beneath the dragon's back, tilting him any given way.
The lady played with him, toyed with all the ways she could have her fun, to remind him of how every little thing about her owned him. Her ass permeated a passive warmth that guided him to sleep. Its surface softness sunk ever-so-slightly in a squishy cradle for the dragon.
He looked around the broadness that surrounded him. It was the size of a park for him to go around and explore. The cheek curved the further it went right, uniting with its sister, which loomed on the other side.
Their divide was a tight place. A long line of joined flesh. Both walls, set together, their fullness, their strength, too great to wiggle through. The lady would have to pry them apart, with hands or her body, holding the dragon by his shoulders, either dropping or setting him inside, before the cheeks would close on him, gobbling the snack, not allowing him to know what light was like from the depths of her backside.
Would life be okay like this? Resting on a broad cheek that belonged to the lady he loved most? It was a fantasy come true, but, as it goes, even a dream was bound to be infected by reality given time. The little dragon did his best not to think about it too much. To rest on the massive backside and indulge in life for the moment.
How firm softness sunk around his back, rose around his sides, a soft cradle of increasing heat, with a layering of fur to brush against his back. There were lax motions, a wobble from side to side, the woman slowly moving her hips, the water splashing beneath, the sounds a delight.
"Mhm." Rarity's voice moaned. "Not that I meant to intrude upon your beachside retreat—but you should be wary of going overboard." Following that, her hips shook faster, the cheeks leaning more to the sides, their surface starting to wobble, the little dragon rolling across their broadness.
Before he could hope to scramble to his feet or find security, he ended up rolling between the middle of the girls. Rarity giggled in feeling the dragon tumble into the crack of her derriere. Then, she gasped.
"Oh, dear! It seems the monster has you in its gasp!"
Spike laid in the trench of curved, warmly flesh, seeing its rounded walls rise above him, the line beneath opening more. He grasped the soft barriers in trying to stand—but the crack opened suddenly. It sucked in his legs and midsection, the tautness closing after that, holding his waist in its hold.
Spike had no clue what the giantess was doing. He wiggled and turned, trying to escape the rump, unable to do so, somewhat swollen by the mass. Over the curve of one of the cheeks, he saw a hand brush over the surface of one, stroking it, a loving rub.
"Mhm! The monster is going underwater!"
So even Rarity likes to play pretend.
The ass started to descend. Spike felt the surrounding hips sink into the sea. Water flushed over the butt, washing into the crack, a sudden rising to his shoulders. Struggling did him no favors as the giantess watched from afar—amused.
Then, knowing he was going under, the little dragon took a breath, holding it tight, feeling the ass plummet beneath the water, dragged down by the butt. He was inside the expanse of the sea when his eyes opened. The flanking cheeks rose around him as they descended deeper.
Spike took a moment to enjoy the view, from inside the crack of the ass, which lowered in the water, its broadness like an underwater city. On either side of him, the cheeks separated slightly, losing their grip on his waist. Pushing a claw down on each, the dragon wiggled free, able to kick upward.
He swam for a bit, but no matter his speed or strength, the same amount of water remained, an impossible distance for one so small. Spike couldn't help but turn around, knowing Rarity would never endanger him. He saw below a view that caused bubbles to escape his mouth.
Below loomed the booty. A sunk island of softness. A depiction of greatness that no amount of words could encompass. It kept below. And then suddenly, as though it were planned, the hips started to shoot upward, the butt rising out from the base of the tub.
Oh.
Spike watched the mass of ass swimming up after him, like an island rising from the sea, on a direct course with his smallness. He tried to turn or get out of its way. Rarity's shape was too broad for him to escape. Instead, the might of a cheek smacked into him, the strength of its speed spinning him to the center of a cheek again.
One that, once the ass raised out of the sea, waterfalls washing down its shape, he reclined where he had before, defeated. He laid back as Rarity hummed. Kicking her legs in the air, morphing the muscles of her glutes forward and back, rocking him delicately.
"I admit it."
"Hmm?"
"I admit defeat for enjoying myself earlier."
"Then what are you waiting for?" Rarity laughed with a shake of her ass. "Give me a kiss."
The dragon turned onto his front and, facing a field of white fuzz, kissed the skin beneath, claws caressing across the cheek, servicing it. Rarity hummed as the dragon carried on. He was forced to care for the landscape. Return the love it had shown him for the rest of the bath.
Rarity had tucked Spike into her cleavage for her wind-down activities. There was an odd calm in being with his love every step of the way. Nothing seemed to be boring or upsetting—especially from his current posting.
She had slipped on a robe and a violet pair of satin panties. Brushing her teeth before the mirror, sometimes Rarity's eyes wandered downward, focusing on her little passenger, a smile rising, a glint sparking, before returning focus to the act itself.
And it wasn't before long the two were on the bed, laying back, with her robe open around her chest, exposing the mass of the twins. Spike had climbed the mountain of a boob and came to sit against a breast. He looked like a farmer resting against an apple tree.
Above him was held a book the size of a theatre. Rarity's arms flanked like beams to a bridge on either side of him. Both spent the night reading a book and having a little talk before bed. It helped in winding down from their games and sexual escapades.
So they would be like that for a while. No words or exchanges. No teasing or flirting—although it did happen on occasion. It was just the two of them being comfortable together. In a way that lovers were… just in a slightly different way.
It was nice to rest like this. To know Rarity was so large and perfect, that her body sprawled and could be explored. Some nights were dedicated to that. When the giantess had picked a romance book too sappy for his likes. He would go off and wander. Not cause mischief or such. But just take the chance to gander on the lady—no art piece being her equal.
Despite their difference in size, there wasn't a part of the lady that disgusted him, in travelling across the white, fuzzy lands. He'd lie down in places, like somewhere on the fur-covered belly, its toned scale was a fine bedding, the rising and lowering caused by the lady's breathing. It was interesting to see how the little parts of her were affected. Seeing every little action that happened on the goddess.
She wouldn't notice the difference in her stomach when it raised for breath. How it rose highest at her stomach's base and lower as it went ahead. Or the slight, natural sway to her chest, that came from the littlest things. Being on her truly was like exploring a moving world. All while the lady thought she was sitting still.
Sometimes he would be cheeky. Crawl between Rarity's legs to follow the curve of her pussy. There wouldn't be any lust. No musk to taint the air. Just the indulgence of the natural beauty of the part. Seeing its shape, its size, how it looked and felt, the texture of its mounds, the hood that hid away her clit.
Once, he climbed in, wanting to see the inside while the lady was inactive—when the walls weren't squeezing the life out of him.
It'd felt safe and warm, perfume in the air, a sponginess to the grounding and the walls, all that sunk beneath his touch. Warmed flesh that felt nearly gooey when he fell across it. Jerks rattled the place as moans quaked like a blast of wind across the tunnel. He needed to be careful. Let the lady come to enjoy the little dragon stranded inside her pussy.
He'd slept there that night by mistake. The warm air, the soft flesh, the comfy darkness, the coziness of the cave. Distant heartbeats undulated the mushy muscles. Her breathing helped him to follow its gentle cadance. The little dragon fell asleep without meaning to. And the lady, not minding keeping one inside, had also fallen asleep.
But today was different. The book had actually been good. Rarity had flipped back a page at his whisper of not having finished. Usually, he read faster but, with the bigger words, it took him longer than usual. Rarity would glance at him after being done, waiting for his smile and nod, before the page was flipped, and the two read again.
"You know…" Rarity started a little after their entry into the page, and he turned from beneath her breast. Her blue eyes set on him. "Ser Maxus reminds me of you. So focused on another… that he forgets himself. So much that, by the end, he remembers not even his own name."
Spike smiled with a roll of his eyes. "Thanks for the spoiler." His eyes fell onto the rounded landscape holding him. "You've already read this book before?"
"Plenty of times." Rarity smiled as well… but there was a twinge of sadness. "Like I said: Ser Maxus reminds me of you. Someone so dedicated to another… that they forget themselves." Her fingertip slipped into his view, the edge of the nail tapping beneath his chin, raising it. "How great they are. Their kindness. The lengths they go to impress one another. When they, as themselves, are already the truest perfection."
Spike blinked as, without meaning to, his claws latched onto the nail, holding onto the fineness, appearing its feeling in his grip. His mouth opened to speak—but no words had seemed wise.
"How long do you suppose you can keep this up?" Rarity asked sincerely. "Being owned. Forever small. It must be a delight to traverse perfection every night…" Her eyes, despite their size, saw into his own, and peered through to his soul. "But how long will I be a thrill?"
Soreness croaked Spike's voice as wetness sliced at the edges of his eyes. "I just want to be with you."
Rarity's smile seemed to have hurt you. "And this fantasy?"
"I'll… agree with you there." Spike wouldn't let go of the nail, which stayed there for him, that, despite its size and might, and all that it could do to him, it craved, more than anything, to be in the little one's hold. "Some fantasises, when you lived them long enough… they start to lose their effect."
Rarity nodded.
"But that doesn't mean they shouldn't be lived." Spike followed. "Because they're perfect when they're short-lived."
Rarity's smile seemed genuine now. Her nail slipped forward to scratch at his cheek. "I couldn't agree more. I fear there's only so long that I would desire you to be so small. But now that you've had your time with me—"
"Anything," Spike answered at once. "I would do it all again. I'd do anything. Nothing can make me stop loving you."
Rarity put aside the book with her other hand. Scooping the dragon into a palm, she raised him to her lips—drowning him in a kiss. There was an extra lick for the sake of teasing him. Then the palm pulled an inch away. Her voice spoke as its breath washed over him.
"I love you too, Spike." Those lips fixed into a smile once again. "Out of all the princes and suitors, out of everyone I expected to fall in love with, you, the helpless little boy, shattered my every expectation. You made me feel things none else have. All because you were so genuine and so in love. I love you, Spike. I love you so very dear."
Spike choked on his breath. "Does this mean…"
Another kiss quelled his doubts before pulling away. "Yes. At any size. Yes."
Spike smiled from frill to frill.
"But don't think this fantasy has run its course," Rarity followed, pulling him away from her face. "Or that I don't have a few others once we are both set and recovered."
Spike rose and did a little salute. "Anything for you, ma'am."
"That's my little scout."
Spike yawned without meaning to. Rarity seemed equally tired. Looking around, none of her previous clothes were present. Sometimes she'd set him in the cup of her bra or the inside of previously-worn panties to tease him to the delights of the next day.
But no such things were present.
"So…" Spike finished turning around to face the grinning goddess. "…where am I sleeping today?"
Rarity didn't bother with words. She lowered Spike across her body, setting him before the waistband of her panties. Slipping a thumb beneath the article, she raised the front, creating an opening.
Spike looked over his shoulder, across the sprawling stomach and over the distant mountains, obscuring the lady's face, who had laid back comfortably in bed. She was still grinning with hair set over her face.
"Well?" Rarity tugged the waistband higher, creating a greater view into the panties, the warm darkness holding smooth, rounded flesh. "Do you object?"
Spike shook his head. The ground rose and lowered beneath his feet, the mountains swaying to the giantess's breathing. The little dragon walked toward the entrance of the panties, seeing the thumb overhead, how it strained the fabric it held back.
He walked into the darkness. The lady's personal perfume was strong in the air. Fine hair started growing beneath his feet. A violet crop of delicious curls that seemed to entangle his legs. It rose to his thighs by the time he turned around.
He saw the world from inside the panties, their curved ceiling over his head, the blurry view of the outside through their fabric. Ahead, Rarity's thumb lowered, the fabric-ceiling resting on his shoulders, forcing him to duck.
He lowered enough to see Rarity. He couldn't help being brought to his knees to wave to the lady. Rarity smiled and waved back. Then her thumb slipped away, and the elastic snapped to her waist. The spongy material forced the dragon to the ground. He laid in the violet pubic fuzz, the silky hair wrapping around him, rustling as he adjusted. He let himself become tangled as sleep overcame him.
It was soft here. Warm and dark. Safe and tight.
"You should be safe in there, dear, no matter how much I roll around."
Spike chuckled. His eyes started to close as paradise was achieved. Sleeping inside the crotch of the goddess he loved. Tucked in by panties that clung to her underside perfectly. It was enough to make him feel at ease. As though everything important in life had been achieved.
"Just do not forget one thing, my love." Rarity had turned, but even though everything was tilted sideways, the lady sleeping on her side, the dragon was too tangled to worry about falling. Not even when her legs crossed over a body pillow that flushed him more into softness.
