The Setup
“What’cha readin’ little dragon dude?”
Spike’s blood ran cold, despite his rarity-tailored hoodie and sweatpants. His eyes unfocused from the comic in his hands, but he was afraid to look past the paper to the pony currently in charge of him.
Usually when his six best friends left on magical adventures, he was left to his own devices, especially since he’d passed into being a lesser adult by dragon standards- though he wished that particular bit of information had come with a growth spurt. According to his friend Ember, such would come in about 50-100 years, while this was useful information in the broad sense, in the moment, however, all it served to do was leave him three feet tall, in a world where almost everypony topped out at five-six. It didn’t help that most of them were wider than three feet too, some by a fair margin.
The added difficulty of the entire afair was that Spike was starting to get an adult dragon’s libido, while being on eye level with more cake than a bakery in Prance. All of this while being one of the shortest creatures who could speak in town.
Thus, since he still looked like a “Cute wittle dragon’ by Rarity’s approximation, it had been decided that he would have someone to stay with. Everyone in most of the party’s rolodexes had been busy save for one of Fluttershy’s oldest friends.
“Little dude?”
The question made Spike realize that he hadn’t spoken in a strange amount of time. He steeled himself, and slowly lowered his power ponies comic to look upon his guardian.
Tree Hugger was a pony from a hippy dippy commune a small ways from ponyville, they lived in a forest amid tents and small ramshackle constructions made of recycled material. He had accompanied Fluttershy to visit it once, and by all accounts it was shockingly well put together…if incredibly odorous.
The scent of what Fluttershy had called ‘Cabbage’ was everywhere. It didn’t smell like any vegetable Spike had ever encountered, but he didn’t press the point. He’d been too distracted for one. Being just at shoulder height for almost every pony in town was bad enough in ponyville. At the commune it had been far worse.
“There you are, little dude!” Tree Hugger’s bleary face came into view over the top of the comic, she looked like she was standing in front of a green screen, but the cleft down the middle and the tell-tale wobble of it made it clear she wasn’t.
The reason the commune had been a trial was that everypony there had a ginormous ass.
The ponies of ponyville were no slouches in the food department, Pinkie Pie alone did more for the town’s (figure)ative cake supply than almost any pony alive, and her ass matched Tree Hugger’s (Though at times Spike wondered if Tree’s was a little bigger), but the ponies of the commune were snacking masters.
This had been torture for the small dragon, who couldn’t step outside any of the tents without pitching one of his own with a hair trigger (Half the reason Rarity had made him pants in the first place).
The reason for the weight was obvious. There had been yoga groups where ponies stretched to chomp floating corn chips, spin the bottle where the prize was enormous slices of pie, naturalistic water fountains full of the sugariest soda Spike had ever tasted, blessed with magic to be ever bubbly.
On the note of bubbly, the pear colored pony leaned closer to spike, resting her chin on the top of his comic, smiling her usual lazy smile. The minor motion set her rump in action as it jiggled for several moments, it seemed like it should have stopped, but Spike realized she was gently bopping to music in her own head, swaying the green tide of her ass back and forth with minor shifts of weight along her hinds. As the dragon came more fully from his comic book he became aware of a soft, muffled, lecherous sound.
Clap…clap….clap…
Throb
He stiffened, and launched into trying to answer the question before she noticed his blush. “A-a power ponies comic!” He swallowed. “I-it’s the final issue of a big arc.”
“Oh really?” Her voice was airy and distracted, the word sounded more like ‘Relay’. She reeked of the herbaceous stank of ‘Cabbage’. Her natural scent was that of a sweet pear, the most apropos scent Spike had ever noticed on a pony. It mixed with the herbal odor to make a kind of spicy sweet funk that clung to her orange-ish red tail and dreadlocks, which were currently swinging and gently bumping against his fingers. “You know I used to love those comics when I was like, a filly.”
Spike lowered the comic a little more, revealing the full width of Tree Hugger’s ass behind her, she had stopped shaking it as she spoke, but the motion appeared to still be working itself out in her wake. The small dragon clenched his legs together slightly and tried to think unsexy thoughts, but she’d barely moved and he was almost at full mast within his patns.
“You? Read power ponies?”
“Oh yeah!” She grinned, though every expression Tree Hugger wore had a sleepy addledness about it, her eyes were constantly lidded, and Spike didn’t want to admit how sultry it made her appear constantly. “Still do, sometimes, people bring comics to the commune and I have a soft spot for Maneiac.”
You have a soft spot alright Spike’s brain supplied, but this did not escape his lips.
“Maniac?” Spike perked up, putting the comic down. “She’s my favorite villain!”
“No way! Lil’ dude’s got good taste…” Her grin turned into more of a smirk, and with her lidded eyes Spike became immediately nervous.
The thing Spike had learned about Tree Hugger in the time she had been his guardian, was that hippy ponies had no sense of personal space whatsoever. She was also always high off her mind, whenever he had to do anything with her, he usually ended up pinned by her lazilly swinging booty. Several of Fluttershy’s possessions had also met their end, particularly during a “Yoga session’ spike had had to help with, this mostly involved grabbing the rasta pony’s enormous thighs and lifting them to their maximum height so that the ‘Chalkras could attune’. All it really served to do was buffet him in the face with green pony pudge. During the ‘Boat Pose’ in which she’d leaned back on her rump and spread her hind legs in the air, with Spike doing the pushing to force them apart farther -all while doing his own ‘Exercise’ trying to keep a pelvic sneeze in. She’d completely forgotten what she was doing, and lime colored thigh pudge had crashed in on either side of the defenseless dragon like Poses had just finished parting the Green Sea. It had taken tens of minutes to try to explain to her that he did not in fact crawl between her thighs to warm up, and that she’d clapped and trapped him there like a misbehaving bug.
And then she’d fallen asleep, and he’d been left to try to heave himself from the warm, jiggly green quicksand he found himself caught between.
Spike had cum three times before managing to free himself, making hasty excuses as to why he was doing laundry so much whilst Treehugger was watching him.
Thus, when Treehugger got the expression she was currently wearing, Spike got nervous.
“I do?” He said warily.
“Like, totally!” She nodded. “I cosplayed as Maniac for Nightmare NIght like five years running.”
Despite himself, Spike leaned closer with interest. Ignoring how his little friend shifted with the motion, the contact against his own thighs making it throb. “You did!? That’s so cool! Do you have any pictures?”
“Nah dude, I don’t like cameras, those things’ll steal your soul.” She said mater-of-factly.
“Aww…” Spike’s crest fell a little.
“Don’t be sad though little dude!” She took a step back. “I had Comic Page, my friend from the commune cast a spell on me for the cosplay, it was supposed to be temporary, but I guess it didn’t wanna leave my body.”
Spike’s brain supplied several replies to that statement, he swallowed all of them.
Think unsexy thoughts. His brain screamed as loud as possible.
“O-oh?” He said instead.
“Yeah! Check it out!”
Spike’s face flushed as Tree hugger turned around, every impact of her hooves shaking the small cottage floor slightly as the enormous amount of ass she was carrying around behind her made its weight known, jiggling in reply, as she swung her weight around it almost looked like her cheeks were fighting to see which one would be the last to stop moving, jostling where they rested against the backs of her ample thighs, which also seemed to enjoy the odd dance of flesh. Her crack wobbled into view, through the curtain of her dreadlocked tail, the deep dark line between the twin hills oscillating as her cheeks warred for casual dominance, a louder clap than her gentle dance sounding as she came to a stop.
Spike leaned as far back as he could from his chair, the smell of ‘Cabbage’, sweat and pears washing over him in the extreme as the single largest part of Tree Hugger’s body cast him under its eclipse, he squirmed in place, trying desperately to think un-jiggly thoughts as he grew more mauve than purple.
The stoney pear pony was carrying so much weight around at all times that she often worked up a sweat just by moving, this mixed with the fact spring was warming the air left her massive ass slightly damp almost constantly.
Spike’s mind presented him with war flashbacks from when she put a bit too much sway in her step and he ended up wrecking balled against walls or counters. Her ample flesh, with the warmth in the cottage, had an almost tacky nature to it. The malleable mounds seeming almost covetous in how, upon Treehugger actually noticing she had smashed the dragon with her massive ass, attempts to heave it off of him would carry him along for the ride, before he slowly peeled off whichever cheek had decided to grace him with its abominably warm company like some kind of lewd cartoon.
Spike had had to wash his sweatpants a lot in the last week. His mind raced to find escape routes. He’d just laundered them a few hours ago…to ruin them again…
Treehugger looked at Spike over her shoulder, she had to lean a very far away to see him at all, which served to swing her rump slightly in the other direction, another meaty, clammy clap sending the thing wobbling as her addled face smirked at him past its poundage. “Watch.”
Spike could only obey, his tongue felt tied in knots, his dragon scepter screaming at him to just grab it and do the deed. As he warred with these thoughts, the only thing that happened was the ample, fleshy ballet of Tree Hugger’s ass coming to a stop again.
“Uhh…” He lifted a claw. “M-maybe I don’t need a-”
“Come on, wake up!” Tree Hugger glared at her rump like it was a creature all its own. Heck if you weighed it and her separately somehow it probably had enough mass to be. Upon this plea getting no response, she bounced her hinds.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
The frills on either side of Spike’s face twitched every time the sound hit the air, enormous cheeks made momentarily weightless by inertia, jiggly thickness wobbling in the air before gravity SLAMMED them back down and together, ripples radiating out along the pear pony’s patootie like large stones throne into a very deep lake. The titanic tush displaced so much air that spike’s twitching frills were ruffled by the fruity, herb-spiced air, sweat laced humidity rolled off her ass like a fog as her tail dreads bounced.
“Treehugger…w-NFfsdf!!” Spike cut off as a particularly bodacious bounce sent flecks of butt sweat across his own cheeks.
This seemed to do it as Treehugger stiffened with excitement. “There we go! Haven’t used it in a while, I’m rusty…” She nodded as if this explained anything.
Attempted to wipe his face, but his hands fell back to his sides in shock.
The shadow looming over him gained several slithering additions, almost as though he were below a hydra of myth.
Tree Hugger’s tail-dreads rose with impossible prehensility. She never cut her hair, so each was at least four or five feet long, and she had at least eight dense lengths of locked tail fur at her disposal. Each issued forth from the dock of her tail, which was almost lost in cheek meat, but also somehow a chubby little peach of a thing. Spike cowered on the couch, squirming in place and looking around for an exit, but already her tail was invading his personal space, slithering about like curious snakes within his personal bubble, he was loath to try to leave the couch on either side for fear of tangling with them, and leaving by going forward was…out of the question.
“Cool right?” Tree Hugger preened, giving her fanny a little clap-riddled shake that sent sine waves of motion down her animated end, one of her dreads used the added motion to slither across his cheek, flowing under his nose in a heavy, fragrant touch.
Tree Hugger’s tail dreads were utterly suffused with cabbage smoke, along with her natural pear scent- and more sweat than Spike wanted to think about while trying not to cum, from rubbing across her cheeks all day. Spike was hit full blast. He gasped, sputtered and coughed, trying to lean away, but another one of her dreads began rubbing the other side of his face, as yet more began exploring his frills and tummy. He attempted to push them away, but they were shockingly dense and strong, it was like battling a team of overly friendly pythons attached to her bountiful booty.
Throbthrobthrob
“Your scales are really smooth…” She said, not noticing, or at least not commenting on his distress. They’re warmer than usual tho.”
Spike stiffened. “ITswarminhere!” He blurted, though the words came out more heavy and slow than he would have wanted, he blinked and tried to push himself up from the couch, only to find his body uncoordinated. Treehugger’s dreads pushed against his chest as her booty leaned in closer, he was forced to sit again, instinctively trying to push himself against the back cushion as though it offered any escape. Treehugger casually touching him while her cheeks did their best impression of a jello plate was almost too much.
THROBTHROBTHROB
He couldn’t be about to cum already. S-surely there was enough time to get away, surely-
“You need to relax little dude…” Treehugger chuckled. “Why don’t I help you?”