> Stoney Pear Pony's Comic Company
>  by Bootie Fruiti
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> 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?”
> The Climax
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spike couldn’t help it, he whined as her tail dreads gently accosted him. They were heavy and dense things, and as one of them decided to pile in his lap like a snake doing its best cat impression, his breath caught, legs jerking against the couch. 
“T-treehug-nfgff…”
He watched as her cheeks clenched, the deep, dark line of her crack becoming thinner as divots appeared in either side of her cheek. Said divots were so deep he probably could have eaten cereal out of them. The muscular motion of all that cheek meat powered into her tail in a slow sine wave of herbaceous musky dreadlock. 
Spike keened as Tree Hugger’s tail began to claim him. 
Two dreadlocks wound around either arm and pulled them down to his sides. “Why don’t we pretend that you’re Hum Drum from the comics huh?” 
Spike grunted as the thickest of Treehugger’s tail-locks took advantage of his pinned arms, nudging under his butt in a smooth worming motion that would leave the couch scented for weeks. He could only watch as its grip consumed his body, the thing was as thick around as a large bottle and shockingly strong. His hands were bound to his sides as she spooled him up from just above his hips to under his chin in three huge pink orange loops. The sweat stained, locked fur squishing against his cheek as the addling scent of the pear pony’s drug of choice flooded his lungs. 
Spike was actually getting a contact high from huffing this hippy’s ass…
“T-tr-”
“Shhh, you’re like, my hostage  now, little dude…” Tree Hugger hiked her rump a little and flexed again, her cheeks came crashing together with a thunderclap as she powered her tail into lifting him off the couch to dangle like a caught fish above a deep crevasse. 
She didn’t even seem to find him heavy as she gave her ass a sway. The sheer mass of the thing tugged her left hoof off the ground as all that flesh sloshed to the right with a cacophonous clap, the impact almost tugging her off her hooves before she swung in the opposite direction, right hind hoof lifting as the inertia continued. 
Spike was a keening mess as Tree Huggers massive ass held him hostage. Her hind end was literally all she needed to torture him in ways he had not even begun to imagine. 
Throbthrobthrobthrobthrobthrob-
Spike could do nothing but watch the motion work itself through Tree Hugger’s hind end, both back legs juddered like a dropped coin, losing inertia as the fatty fanny the pear pony packed let all the kinetic energy have its fleshy fun. Droplets of sweat greeted his face as they were chased from between the meaty moons by the force of impact. 
Spike’s pupils shrank to pin pricks as one of Treehugger’s dreadlocks began brushing against his tent. 
“Mane-iac has noticed that Hum Drum,” Tree Hugger’s voice attempted to be that of an announcer, but the sandy and sonorous tone of her speech almost sounded more like a meditation track. “Has been staring at her massive fat ass all week.” Her brow rose as a mischievously villainous smirk spread across her face, her ass finally wobbling to (mostly) a stop. 
Spike’s heart tried to beat out of his chest as he got the idea that Tree Hugger was not as oblivious as he had hoped. 
“I-”
CLAP
Green cheeks clapped together as Tree Hugger let her tail do its best impression of an anaconda, squeezing Spike into silence and forcing yet more blood where he didn’t want it to go. 
“For the crime of horniness, little hero dude.” 
Spike could only watch, breathless and painfully horny as she brought him closer to the object of his fixation. 
Normally Treehugger’s tail was slightly in the way of any true view of her buns, but now that it was animate, and holding him aloft, he got a full view of the thing, he was brought in close and low, right where her ass meat sat against the back of her voluptuous thighs, the kingdom of butt cleavage. 
“I think I’m gonna sentence you…” 
Her tail loosened enough to let spike gasp just in time to get a mouthful of booty. She jammed him right into the crease where right cheek met thigh, a wet clap of sound dominating his senses as sweat made itself familiar with his cheek (And his cheek with hers). With no mercy, she slowly dragged him up, using his little body to heft her massive ass cheek up, the smell of weed, sweet pears and all the sweat that had been trapped in that humid fold hit Spike’s addled mind like a truck (A dump truck to be specific). 
The sheer weight of her right cheek alone mashed into his features, the fatty thing smothered all it touched, welling up around his features, burying his frills, muffling and filling his mouth when he moaned as she combed her ass fur with his face. 
The herb currently addling his system made the slow pan up along her buttcheek seem to take an age, going up along the length of a mountain of booty meat bigger and heavier than he was by an order of magnitude. She began to wiggle her hips, smooshing back against him further, he almost felt like her ass was trying to absorb him from just how much endless, warm, soft, sweaty heat was suffusing his little face. 
Spike’s sweatpants were viscously dripping with pre, the playful, solicitous tail-lock playing with his pants hadn’t quit for a second. Almost wailed moans muffled in booty. 
Finally he came to the tip of the green hill, his face surfaced with a humidity laden gasp moments before Tree Hugger threw her ass back and cheek slapped him, sending him into a jiggling marshmallow hell. She panned him to the left to free him, serving to catch his jaw between her cheeks amid the damp, nestled warmth, her peachy tail dock jammed against his nose. 
“Kiss it, little hero dude.” 
Spike opened his mouth to protest. 
CLAP 
Her cheeks clenched, Spike’s cheeks squished, his features becoming nothing but playthings for Tree Hugger’s tonnage as she wiggled her hinds back and forth, buffeting him with booty cheek while her tail played boa again. 
Spike began kissing immediately, wretched, embarrassed, blushy sounds coming hot and fast between lip to dock contact.  
Treehugger smirked, and turned to look forward, closing her eyes as she waited between smooches, when Spike pulled back, as far as she would let him, to prepare for another kiss, her tail pulled down and pushed in. 
Spike got a new pair of earmuffs as the only sound he could hear became that of flesh shifting and jiggling over his head, his lips met something tight, puckered and flexing. 
“Oooh, a kiss for a lady, you’re polite, little hero dude.”
Her cheeks clapped again, but this time instead of against each other, it was against Spike’s head. Sweat ran down his face as the heat of his cheeks and the heat of hers met, he made a horrified sound, and then a horrified moan as his legs jerked in place, tensing and flexing and bending like he was being electrocuted. 
The clear fluid dripping from Spike’s sweatpants became milky and white. 
“Oop, yeah, definitely the crime of being horny..” She tilted her ass one way, mashing Spike’s face to the left, then the other, mooshing him to the right. 
POP 
She pulled his head from the confines of her ass and let him sway there for a moment, practically steaming from her warmth.
“You know…Luna was sentenced to the moon for a 1000 years.” She paused. “Like, totally cruel, down with the monarchy, free love for all, but…since I’m a villain…I think ‘ll give you the same sentence…”
Spike’s limp, twitching body started attempting to squirm. Tree Hugger didn’t even squeeze him into submission. 
“24 hours moon detention.” Her tail began to reel him back. 
“W-wai-”
“Nope.” 
PLAP 
Treehuger’s tail locks swung forward and plunged Spike into warm, humid, fruity darkness. Her cheeks were so heavy it felt like being stuck in a vice as she pushed him in so deep he could feel her heartbeat through all of the ponyflesh around him. Only his green crest sat like a shark's fin, pushing against the dock of her tail, could be seen. Her ass had basically swallowed him. 
“Keep kissing and maybe you’ll, like, get out early on good behavior…” With that, she smirked, grabbed a few snacks from a nearby bowl with her dreads, and began to walk towards the garden. 
Clap, Clap, Clap 
The familiar sound could be heard, augmented by a new medium through which the sound could flow, an addled, squirming body. The astute would notice another sound between every booty beat. 
Clap-Spurt-Clap-Spurt-Clap-Spurt
Along with muffled, tortured moaning. 

End