Soarin’ gulped down the last of the energy drink and set it down onto the table with a sigh. He grinned at Dash and wiped away a bit of moisture with his sleeve. “Man, that stuff’s good. Got any more?”

She grinned back. “Nah. That stuff was just a gift from Spitfire. Really expensive or something.” She shrugged. “Anyways, we’re gonna head out to Ponyville to set up for the show. You coming?”

Soarin’ made to say yes—and then yawned instead. He’d woken up that morning feeling ready for anything, but now, a tiredness felt like it was dragging his limbs down. He offered a wan smile. “I’ll catch up. I think I’ll just take a nap first.”

When he woke up an hour or two later, the first thing he noticed was his crotch.

It felt warm and, not surprisingly, tight. Soarin’ was used to getting morning wood after a good nap, so he wasn’t too bothered about it. He grinned drowsily and stroked his crotch gently—

—and paused when he realized that his shaft was filling up a whole lot more of his palm than he was used to. He blinked, then sat up.

Oh, yeah. The bulge in his groin was a lot bigger than he was familiar with. After making sure that nobody was around—usually, the Wonderbolt suits weren’t too good at covering up their wearer’s “privates,” and this new size made it positively obscene—he made his way to the bathroom and stripped.

He gaped as his erection sprang free and came to settle in his hand. It was almost as wide as his palm, and surprisingly heavy. He hefted it an inch up and down, and felt his balls, now near apple-sized orbs, sway in response. He could almost feel the cum sloshing around inside.

Starting as a somewhat average stallion made Soarin’ give absolutely no objections when his ten-incher suddenly became a fourteen. Cradling his larger member in both hands, he gripped it tight and went to work. In what seemed like no time at all, he was cumming, his hips bucking wildly as thick ropes of cum erupted from his tip.

When he finished, his cock was still throbbing hard, and his balls still felt full—a surprise to a stallion who’d always had to deal with a refractory period of a good half-hour. Definitely not an unwelcome one, though. Soon enough, he felt his hands gripping his jerking, lurching shaft as rope after rope of his thick, musky spooge leapt into the air and fell into the toilet.

Well, mostly into the toilet. A good amount of his seed splattered around it and onto the floor instead. A quick effort to use toilet paper to clean it up did little more than make it even messier. A guilty blush on his face, Soarin’ pulled his suit back on—his bulge protruding hugely from his crotch—and crept out of the bathroom. Hopefully, somepony would clean that up later. By then, he planned to be long gone.

Takeoff wasn’t any big deal, though he was very aware of the pressure his (surprisingly full, considering he’d just jerked off twice) balls exerted on the insides of his legs. As he flew, though, he started to feel another erection coming on. With a sigh—though not an annoyed one—he settled down on another cloud and pulled away his uniform. It was still early; a quickie couldn’t hurt.

What he found, though, made him gape in awe. His shaft, which had already been bigger than usual, had grown larger still. Another two inches had been added to its length, which now came up to just an inch or two below his sculpted chest. His hands shaking, he jerked himself off and moaned loudly as he thrust wildly in the direction of the cloud, spurting what felt like pints of jizz into the fluffy white surface.

He took off again, this time a bit more concerned. He could feel his cock throbbing as he flew, growing, his balls filling up with more spooge. Sweat began to drip down his forehead, and was instantly blown back by the wind. His wings beat faster, faster. He couldn’t stop. Couldn’t give in.

But the sensation, the throbbing, was overwhelming. The lurching and shuddering of his blood-filled cock was impossible to ignore. It felt like a second heart. Soarin’ bit his lip and shifted direction with the wind.

Soarin’ panted as another tremor shook his body. He’d been riding a pleasantly warm thermal down toward Ponyville, and it seemed that what felt good for his coat felt good for…other things as well. Soon enough, it became clear that he had a choice: keep flying, and explode all over himself in midair, or land and manage the situation. His fat balls, which had begun to push his legs slightly apart, were starting to feel incredibly pent-up.

He groaned, feeling his cock throb against the fabric of his uniform, his balls churning with what felt like quarts of spooge. There was a pressure growing at the base of his cock, like that of a dam about to break. He watched in disbelief, flying on autopilot, as his erection actually began to strain against his uniform, deforming the material. He could hear the fabric ripping slightly around the skin-tight material, the bright, thick veins of his massive erection poking through a few failing seams. Grunting, sweating, and panting, he went with his second choice.

He landed on a nearby cloud and immediately got to work. With every second that his stallionhood went unattended, it grew another few inches, adding pound after pound of heavy stallion meat to his figure. Pegasi flew through magic, not physical wingpower, but there was definitely a limit to how much cock even a Wonderbolt could carry in flight.

He worked furiously at his shaft. It was so long, so thick, with a head wider than his forearm and an inch-wide slit that wouldn’t stop oozing pre. He grunted, his hips jerking slightly as he choked his stallionhood. It actually reached his nipples now. Salivating, alternating between horror at his situation and giddiness at being able to do something he’d always wanted to try, Soarin’ opened his mouth wide and dove right in.

Up and down his mouth went, pre leaking down his throat. Soarin’ moaned around his flared head, feeling it fill his mouth. He knew he should stop before he got any bigger, but it just felt so good.

Soarin’ moaned as his oncoming orgasm rumbled. One hand ran up and down his monstrous, two-foot shaft, rubbing his bulging medial ring as hard as it could. The other massaged his enormous ballsack. At first, he could only imagine the oceans of hot, stallion cum that lay in their depths just waiting to burst out—and then, as the first wave hit his throat, he didn’t have to imagine.

He pulled his mouth off with a wet pop, sputtering as cum clogged his mouth and throat alike.

Another pony might have tried to swallow it all, but Soarin’ knew that if he swallowed every drop of seed his overproductive balls made, let alone every gallon, he’d never even make it off the ground.

Most of the rest of the orgasm fell onto the cloud, changing it from a whispy to a—solidly—milky white. The rest of it either had landed in Soarin’s mane, or had fallen to the earth below to give some (un)lucky pony a warm, sticky shower. It looked like his “attention” had had some positive effect—his stallionhood was down to around sixteen inches along—still big, but manageable—while his ballsack was “just” the size of a pair of grapefruits. But Soarin’ didn’t take the time to bask in the afterglow. He could already feel his “emptied” balls swelling up again with seed, and he had a schedule to keep.

So he flew, as fast as he could, with the wind whipping at his two-foot package as it bobbed and bounced beneath him. Within two minutes, though, sweat was running down his face from exertion. He could almost hear his gargantuan balls, now the size of watermelons, churning with cum beneath him. He could feel the immense pressure of a growing ocean of cum lapping up against the confining volume of his already-enormous balls.

Meanwhile, his two-foot cock hadn’t wasted a single second, and had already swollen up to three and a half feet, leaking more and more precum all the while. Somewhere along the way, the lower half of his uniform actually tore—ripped right off of him, flapping in the wind behind his heavy balls and leaving his massive shaft free to bob and sway in the wind.

Once again panting rapidly, he glanced around for a cloud. Nothing, nothing, nothing—but there! In the distance!

His wings flapped harder than they’d ever flapped before, struggling to keep him and his growing stallionhood in the air. In the final throes of desperation, Soarin’ flipped into the third position of the Dazzlin’ Diamond Dive—flying forward on his back, his belly up toward the sky.

His wings somehow managed to propel him forward as he desperately sucked on his growing shaft, his palms pumping at its sides like they’d never pumped before.

He came again and again, each time coming up for a gasp of air as a shower of precum burst from his tip. Each time, his package stopped growing for a little while, and sometimes even shrunk down a bit, but it was never long before he felt the pressure growing in his balls again, his shaft throbbing as more and more cum filled up his balls to bursting.

Luckily, he’d positioned himself such that the steady flood of precum actually pushed him forward a bit—and within another five seconds, he saw that he was actually nearly there. Come on, he told himself, grunting around his swelling and throbbing head, his jaw cracking around its impossible size. His incredible nuts must have been the size of beanbag chairs at this point, and were dragging him down at least an inch every second with their huge weight. His wings were working overtime, but—would he make it? Just a little further, he thought. Just a little longer.

“Ahhh!” he cried out, hitting the cloud with a bump, a roll, and a final orgasm. A geyser of cum surged from his tip, actually pushing the cloud—luckily, a firmer, wider specimen than the last one—down a few inches in the air with its force.

Soarin’ panted as his seed showered back down on him, his melon-sized nuts shuddering as they put out rope after rope of thick, warm spooge into the air, finally stopping in growth as well.

Soarin’ took a deep breath and glanced down at his package. “Welp,” he said, swallowing. “Let’s hope that’s over.”

His stallionhood twitched once, though in amusement or mercy, Soarin’ couldn’t possibly tell. At this point, he didn’t really care. He sucked some air, trying to catch his breath. His massive schlong was splayed across his lap, weighing heavily on his hind legs. His balls weren’t much of a light burden, either; he could feel them sloshing gently against his thighs. But at least they didn’t feel ready to burst anymore.

Warily, he got to his feet, then sighed when his oversized cock just slapped against his leg instead of protruding above his head. It was almost as long as his leg, he realized, hanging down all the way to the top of his shin. He eyed the cloud—which now looked nearly storm-black with all the extra moisture he’d forced into it—and walked tenderly across its surface. His fat, heavy balls forced him into a waddling gait, pushing his legs apart and sloshing noticeably with every step.

He gave his wings a few experimental flaps, and let out a relieved breath when they lifted him a good inch off of the ground. It wouldn’t be easy, but with his smaller, emptied balls, and his flaccid shaft, he shouldn’t have any problems getting to Ponyville without crashing—assuming, of course, that they didn’t fill up again somewhere along the way.

So, with the ragged remains of his uniform still clinging to his torso, and his over-two-foot-long cock leaning against the inside of his thigh, he leapt into the air. Though his balls dangled clumsily between his legs, he was able to rise up a good three meters above the cloud.

“Alright, Soarin’,” he told himself. He took a deep breath. “Time to get down there, ASAP.” He couldn’t help a cocky grin from crossing his face. Now that he’d emptied his uncooperative nuts—he chanced a glance downward, and let out a soft “whew” when he saw that they looked no bigger than before—he should have no trouble making it to Ponyville unmolested. Literally, that is—he hoped. He wasn’t the co-captain of the Wonderbolts for nothing, after all.

He dove back into a thermal, and grinned as air rushed past his ears. This was more like it. He did his best to ignore the sound of his flaccid cock smacking against his legs as he flew.

As he flew, he could feel his cock throbbing. Thankfully, though, it looked like that final orgasm had done the trick. Although his balls swelled up a bit during the last ten minutes of his flight, they stayed manageable enough for him to stay comfortably airborne. And a good thing, too—Ponyville’s weather team had cleared out all of the surrounding clouds for the evening’s show, and he did not want to crash land in the middle of somepony’s barn with a boner half his size.

Eyeing the colorful blue-and-yellow tent set up toward the back of one of the fields around the town, Soarin’ angled in the air and dove. His cock flapped uselessly against his thigh, streaming clear precum into the wind. The image flashed into his mind of unsuspecting ponies being treated to a midday rainstorm, and he quickly pushed it away, blushing madly.

He alighted onto the grass behind the tent and slipped inside. The interior of the tent was shady and cool, and he could see a pile of the team’s bags stashed toward the back. He grinned and began to make his way over. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like anypony was around. He didn’t feel too self-conscious, then, about the way that his fat cock swung from side to side between his legs, or the way his heavy balls left a trail of musk and pre behind him.

Soarin’ found his own bag, stamped with his name, right near the top. Inside, though, were just a few props and an overnight bag. With dawning horror, he dumped its contents out onto the floor and made to comb through them more carefully.

“Looking for this?”

Soarin’ whirled on the spot. Spitfire, clad in her own suit, was standing by the main entrance. The bright latex of her Wonderbolts uniform pushed her not unimpressive bust up an extra inch or two, and the twin bulges of her nipples were just barely visible in the dim light. Soarin’ felt his massive member begin to harden despite himself.

She smirked at him and hefted a bright blue suit in her hand. “Hm?”

“Ah.” Soarin’ raised a hand, his cheeks tinged a bit red. He didn’t feel too flustered about being in the nude in front of ‘Fire—they’d gotten up to their fair share of mischief as co-captains, after all—but paired with the day he’d had, the sudden growth of his package, and the way he desperately needed to get dressed before anyone else walked in, he felt like it wasn’t really that unmerited. “Yes, please.”

He gulped as Spitfire took a step forward. There was a sultry sway to her hips, her lips pursed lightly at a joke that seemingly only she could understand.

“You won’t be needing it,” she said. With a shrug, she tossed it away. “You’ll be using that one tonight.” With a nod, she pointed him toward another uniform slung over a changing bench by his side.

Soarin’ blinked, then turned and picked it up. His eyes widened when he realized the enormous pouch sewn into the front—as well as the impressively-sized hole in the pouch’s front that pointed directly up toward the head. He suddenly noticed the massive puddle of pre that had been gathering beneath him—leakage from his massive erection—and flushed even further.

“You can’t be serious,” he said.

“Oh, I’m serious. The team figured that we needed a new attraction.” Spitfire’s smirk grew, and Soarin’ struggled to keep his arousal under control. On the last legs of his trip, it’d been fine...but his last orgasm had been thirty minutes ago, and Spitfire’s obvious breasts were doing nothing to help the situation. “So we’ve got a new act. Rainbow Dash helped iron the idea out—helped make it possible, actually.” Soarin’s mind suddenly flashed back to the strange-tasting energy drink she’d offered him that morning.

Spitfire’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “And you’re gonna be the centerpiece.”

“What’s the act?” Soarin’ had a feeling he already knew. His balls suddenly felt much heavier in their sack. His cock was already at half-mast, stretching out before him like an enormous dowsing rod.

Spitfire winked. “Turns out that summer crowds are eager for some rainy days. So we put together this act just for them. We call it ‘The Splatter’.”

Next Chapter: Pleasured [Twilight] [Futa] [Hyper Cock/Big Breasts] [Gratuitous Cum] [Self-Boobjob] Estimated time remaining: 24 Minutes