"Uhhhhhh…"

The smoky-colored mare lowered her paper fan. The body might've been different, but that smug, self-satisfied smirk was unmistakably Hoity Toity's. "Hmhmhm… Ahh, the look on your face. All worth it."

I was struck dumb. Too many questions, too little gray matter to process them. I could only watch speechlessly as she approached, swinging her hips saucily and thrusting out her tightly covered chest. She was clearly doing everything in her power to show off her new body. 'Her' new body. 'Her.' My brain short-circuited again.

"Feeling a little tongue-tied?" Hoity Toity (Hoity Toity?!) asked. She leaned down in front of me, and – since she was standing and I was seated with my pants around my ankles – her boobs nearly tumbled out from between the suit buttons that were valiantly holding on for dear life. "Well, don't rush. Feel free to look for as long as you want. That's what they're there for…"

"Holy horseapples, Hoity, is that you?!" came an advancing cry. Sapphire Shores had shot up from her plastic chair and started marching over to where we were, her eyes wide as saucers the whole time.

Photo Finish took notice, but only barely. "Oh, so it's true," she remarked, mostly to herself. "You found a new hobby since we parted ways."

The boobs before my eyes lifted back up. Hoity Toity stood up straight, still presenting herself with a sultry posture. My eyes tracked the swells of her suit, but I couldn't help but notice that her whole outfit had minor changes. She was wearing heels all of a sudden, for one thing, making her legs and greatly inflated ass stand out. But the outfit, while visibly stretched by her curves, still looked like it was made for this female version and differently fit from the male one. I wondered if Hoity not only had some spell or potion conveniently on site, but a whole different wardrobe as well. That takes some dedication, I thought, before my eyes returned to the bouncing boobs, soon joined by Sapphire's pair.

"Good heavens, it is, isn't it!" Sapphire exclaimed, looking the new mare up and down and up again. "You're not some… assistant pulling a stunt?!"

Hoity Toity chuckled seductively. Her voice was just as deep as her male counterpart had been, but the feminine arrangement of her vocal chords let her reach a more sultry register. "Is it really that surprising?" she asked innocently. "Stallion like me critiquing dresses every day… It only helps my work to know what it's like to wear them!"

Sapphire's expression morphed from pure shock to a kind of profound awe. "Damn, Hoity. I thought you were… I dunno. But you got stones, pony. You really are all that."

With a scoff and a burst of laughter, Hoity rolled her eyes and replied, "Well, thank you I suppose."

"Uhhh…" was my genius way to get back into the dialogue.

Both mares turned to me, and I didn't miss how their assets wobbled before my eyes. Likewise, they didn't miss how my cock twitched with confused need. Hoity fanned herself and said, "I suppose you're wondering why I would go to the trouble of switching my own gender…"

Looking at my junk, Sapphire said, "I think he's more wondering if it's alright to fuck a dude that's now a chick."

Hoity laughed, then corrected herself and finally dropped that smug grin. "I apologize, Pascal. If this is too strange for you, I won't take it any further than this. But DO know I'm interested, if you're willing."

It took me a few seconds to come to a decision. "Shhhhhit, I'm down," I finally said. "But, yeah, why?"

Surprisingly, she blushed and hid most of her face behind her fan. "That's a conversation I'd prefer to have between me and you, if that's alright," she said, her eyes glancing at Sapphire.

The pop starlet put up her hands and backed away. "Hey, that's fine by me. You do whatcha wanna do." She turned to leave, but hesitated. "…Just one question: How expensive is it to get the, uh…?"

"Potions," Hoity replied. "And very expensive."

"Oh, okay…"

The genderswapped critic lowered the fan, and the smirk was back. "I've got plenty in stock, though. And for my close friends, I'm willing to share."

Sapphire's eyes bugged out again for a second, but she fought to regain her cool. "Uh, sure! Sounds… Let's table that, for another time. Definitely." And the glitzy singer hurried back to her chair near the stage. Though from the way she kept glancing back with a heated blush on her face, she definitely looked interested in the stallion-turned-mare's proposition.

Hoity did that low chuckle in her throat again and turned to me. "So, you said you're interested…" She put the paper fan back in her pocket and knelt down between my legs, placing her hands on my knees and putting my foot-long prick in her direct view. She glanced back at the stage, and the various ponies milling around were not-too-subtly watching, but she eventually decided it wasn't enough to deter her and returned to being fixated on my cock.

I took a stab in the dark. "You, uh, really wanted a shot at it, huh?"

"Exactly!" Hoity replied excitedly, then immediately toned it back. "I mean… No matter how I try to explain this, it'll sound a little strange… But that's the price for meaningful insight and critique!"

"Of…"

Hoity smiled and placed a finger delicately on the sensitive tip of my cock. "This!"

Involuntarily, I let out a laughing breath through my nose. How? Why? The Normal had to be involved somehow, but… "Uh, you want to explain, or…?

Hoity took off her sunglasses and pocketed them, her cobalt blue eyes remaining on my erect dick. She studied it, licking her lips and breathing deeply on its scent. "It's a little bit challenging to elucidate," she admitted, using her fingers to delicately move my cock up and down and from side to side. "It's this… feeling in my gut, something primal, whenever I look at it. Something about the aesthetics of it is stirring this feeling of… Well, I'm not entirely sure."

I did a take. "The aesthetics of… my penis?"

"Your HUMAN penis," Hoity corrected me. "Tell me, what do you think when you see a pony penis?"

This conversation was getting weirder and weirder with every sentence. "Uh…"

"You have seen one, haven't you?"

"Yes!" I answered a little too quickly. "Uh, but, I don't know what… I mean, I was a little concerned about other things at the time…"

Hoity shook her head. "I'm talking about more than just size difference. The shape of it. Its 'character.' What does it say to you?"

"How about you just get to the point?" I countered.

She smirked, but seemed more than happy to keep talking. "It says 'strength,' don't you think? But in a very functional, structural sense. The medial ring, the flare designed to keep cum inside the mare… It's like a steel girder at a construction site. From end to end, it's designed to be hard and firm inside something, but at the service of another." Hoity was starting to blush hard. "I hope you don't mind the stream of consciousness – I'm trying to figure this out myself through this rambling."

"Uhhh, sure," I said quietly. I hoped to high heaven that there was a point to this. "And what about mine?"

Hoity Toity just grinned even wider, wrapping her hand around the upper part of my cock and gently squeezing the head with her thumb, squeezing out precum onto her fingers. "This… is 'power.' Not 'strength,' 'power.' The simple swell of the shaft, the tip designed for penetration, making defense impossible, the shape of the head, this crown shape– Yes, the crown! It's 'royal.' 'Regal.' This is a castle spire. This is a cock that expresses 'authority.' 'Dominance.' Demanding submission from those who look upon it. This…" Her mouth drifted closer and closer to my cockhead, her hot breath making me twitch in her hand. "This is a ruler's cock."

In one smooth motion, she lowered her hand to my base and sucked the first six inches into her mouth. The fat head forced her lips even wider apart, forming a tight, plush 'O' around my prick. She proceeded to bob her muzzle up and down the upper length of my shaft while stroking the lower portion with her hand. Her other hand went to my enlarged balls and gently cupped them and stroked them, giving me a whole new wave of sensations as I got to know exactly how my new sack felt.

Hoity was extremely good at this. She knew right away what I'd probably like – sucking hard, moaning into my cock, going as deep as possible, and lots of swirling tongue action. Even more amazing was the fact that I was almost too big for her, in a way that would normally put a strain on a woman's jaw and limit her performance. But it seemed nothing would get in the way of a pony's ability to suck.

The weirdness of this situation kept me from getting too aroused too quickly, but at the same time it was getting me almost too hot to think. As strange as it all was, a bigger male becoming so enamored with my cock that they'd turn female for it was one of those bizarrely hot scenarios that pushed a button I didn't know I had. So when my brain finally turned off and allowed me to enjoy it, my lust almost instantly shot up to critical levels.

Hoity gulped down the sudden shot of pre with ease, and responded by humming pleasurably. It was a clear promise that she was ready to swallow even more, no matter how much I flooded her throat.

My hips started pumping in desperate need. God, everything about this was so fucking unfair. Why did these ponies have to be so naturally good at sex? Why did my cum have to be this dangerous concoction to them that I had to ration? Why did getting them addicted to my cock have to be wrong? Why did I have to give up so much control when, from day one, all of these ponies wielded so much power over ME? Why did I have to be THEIR plaything instead of THEM being MINE? Why, goddammit, why?!

In an attempt to satisfy my sudden case of ego, my hands shot to the top of Hoity Toity's head and shoved her down as I came. My body gushed fresh, hot cum directly down Hoity's stretched throat while her nose was nearly touching my crotch and her clothed breasts were pressing against my balls. She squealed, but didn't choke or try to pull her head up. Deep down, I knew she would be able to handle it. These ponies had long since proved they could handle just about anything.

Like the orgasms before it, the pleasure was as all-consuming as it was drawn out. My embiggened cock made the feeling of cum pumping through it excruciatingly powerful with each pulse, while my tingling balls reminded me of the volumes I was producing and continuing to produce. And when it finally slowed down to the last few aftershocks, the last few tablespoons of cum spurting out of my cock, the burning afterglow spread lovely warmth through the rest of my body.

It frightened me how big an 'event' this was becoming. I thought I'd been a sex addict before! And I was still barely losing any hardness. If this happened more frequently, I'd start seriously worrying about losing brain cells.

I finally got ahold of myself and released Hoity's head. She didn't pull back right away, but eventually – and with deliberately sexy slowness – dragged her mouth up my dick until the head slipped out with a lewd 'smack' of her lips. Saliva and cum coated and dripped down the whole length. I looked at Hoity's immaculate face; the only evidence of her ordeal was a strand of her mane that had fallen out of place.

Hoity cleared her throat, swallowed, and said, "I shouldn't be surprised." Her voice was a little weak at first, but she quickly regained her strength and confidence. "I know how tempting my own mouth is. It's just most stallions don't take the initiative like that."

The words 'my own mouth' confused me for a second before I realized – autofellatio – and left it at that. "Right, um. Sorry about that. Kinda lost my head for a second."

"I think I know where your 'head' went," Hoity teased, giving my bobbing cockhead a little lick. "Not to worry. In my opinion, it's not good to suppress your dominant urges. Sex is a good outlet for them."

"It helps that you're ponies," I thought aloud, "who can stretch and all that. Back home, going for the deepthroat unannounced would be rather rude."

"Oh, it's still a little rude," Hoity said casually, smirking. Her hand gripped my cock and glided up its lubricated surface, gathering up all the residual cum at my tip. "But more than forgivable, in the right pony's mouth." She scooped up the bits of cum with her fingers and proceeded to lick it off, making nasty, naughty faces at me as she did so.

I couldn't help but scoff good-naturedly at her blatant sexual teasing. I was still feeling relatively clear-headed from the orgasm, even if my lower body was already getting ready for another round. "You're enjoying this a little too much."

"It's your fault," she rebutted, sucking her fingers clean. "Mmm… You start out with this shy attitude, mmph, that practically begs your partner, mm, to have her way with you."

'Beta,' echoed some internet asshole in my brain. 'Beeeeeta maaaaaale.'

"But then you pounce, don't you?" Hoity added with a massive grin. "Once the girls are in your web, thinking you can just be walked all over… Once they let their guard down… That's when you show your true colors, isn't it?"

I wasn't sure how to respond to that. Did that describe the pattern of my bottom/top tendencies? Did that explain my occasional dominant urges? Maybe, but I had a feeling there could be multiple factors, multiple explanations. "I suppose that's one way to look at it," I said. "Maybe I'm just frustrated with how my day is going."

She rolled her deep blue eyes. "Yes, but that theory's not as fun."

"They can't all be colorful streams of consciousness," I joked. "You don't employ Occam's razor when judging dresses?"

"Occam's what?"

Right, it wouldn't be called that here. "'The simplest answer is usually the correct one'?"

"You have that too? Fascinating. We call it 'Cookie's cutter,' after one of Equestria's founders."

Of course.

"And I do employ that – when I'm looking at BAD dresses. It's when I'm looking at something pleasing that I want to know exactly WHY and HOW it's stimulating me on the conscious, subconscious, and primal levels." She smirked back down at my cock, though she didn't have to tilt her head much since I was pointing almost straight up again. "Hence," she added, "this foray into xenophilia."

I chuckled a bit. "I was about to ask if you made studying other races' penises a habit."

"Hardly." Hoity tossed her mane back in a regal manner. "At the end of the day, differences in size and shape aside, a penis is a penis, semen is semen, and testicles are testicles. All fine things if you're into them sexually – and I am – but in most cases they're hardly worth 'studying.' But yours was an exception, obviously. One that demanded I get to the bottom of what the sight of it was doing in my heart."

We were straying back into the weirder part of this conversation, but I wondered if there wasn't a grain of useful data in it. "So… Do you really think my, uh, penis has some kind of inherent aesthetic appeal to ponies?"

"Hmm." She stared at my penis in silence for a few seconds. Then a few seconds longer than I was comfortable with. "Hard to speak for all ponies," she finally admitted. "For most ponies – that are, at the very least, attracted to males – I doubt they'd think anything more of it than, 'Oh, that looks nice.' But then again, ask a random customer why they buy a certain dress, and the best you'll get is, 'Because it looked pretty on me.' It's not their responsibility to get to the bottom of those feelings; that's up to me and my ilk as critics and tastemakers. So, end result: One such critic thinks the appearance of your penis has a subtly profound effect on him. Take that as you will."

A fair point, reasonably made. Where did that leave me? Without a clear answer to my question, but it felt like another piece of the puzzle of ancient humanity in Equestria. If everything else about pony biology was geared to sexually adore humans – their scent, their fluids – then why not aspects of their appearance as well? It didn't make sense in conventional biology, but in this weird fucked-up reality, it remained a possibility.

There was also the outlying note that different ponies seemed to be responding differently to separate factors. Some ponies liked my cum a bit more than others, at least outwardly. Some ponies reacted to my scent more than anything else. Hoity Toity here just made a big deal of my 'aesthetic.' Maybe there was some kind of crapshoot going on from pony to pony, where either different genetics or upbringing or SOMETHING was weighting one sense-response over another. It'd take a step to explain the somewhat wildly varying responses to my body, even though they were all consistently positive.

My cock twitched in protest of all this scientific thought. My post-orgasm cooldown – shortened by all these ridiculous enhancements – was officially over. "So, uh, wanna do some more?"

"Thought you'd never ask," Hoity replied with glee, and stood up and started unbuttoning her suit.

But then the lights around the stage went dim. The sound system pounded to life with some kind of bass-y club song. The fashion ponies in the room were understandably confused.

"ARE YOU READY…" came Trixie's voice from the speakers around the stage, "FOR A FASHION… REVOLUTION?!"

I was immediately giddy with excitement. Here it was! Trixie had somehow made it work! And now she was going to be the announcer for this impromptu fashion show!

"What in the world?!" Hoity exclaimed.

"Sshhh, it's alright," I was quick to inform her. "I asked them to do this. I think you might like it."

"But WHAT is it?"

I grinned widely and said, "Oh, just a little fashion line idea to run by you guys. You don't mind us having a little fun with the stage while we're here, do you?"

Hoity lingered in confusion for a second, then broke into laughter, causing her big breasts to bounce firmly in the lacy bra she was wearing beneath the suit. "Very well! I'll just have to make sure I've got the best seat in the house, then."

She slipped out of her fancy heels, shucked her tight business pants off – leaving her in a striking pair of violet designer socks – unbuttoned and threw her coat to the side, and then sat in my lap wearing nothing but her high-fashion lingerie. She spread her legs so that my cock could nestle up against her lace-covered pussy, then squeezed me between her thighs. Enough of me was poking up from between her legs that her hands could stroke and play with it.

"Perfect," she said in her most sultry tone, then reclined against me and focused her eyes on the stage. I reciprocated by gently grabbing her breasts through her bra and burying my nose in her teal mane. She smelled faintly of fruit through the remnants of cologne.

We were some distance away from the stage, but other than having to peek around Hoity's mane, there was nothing obstructing my view of the entire set. The spotlights framed the center-stage entrance, and the fog machines rumbled to life.

Then Moondancer stepped out onto the stage. Or at least her nipples did first.

Never in my life had I wished so hard for the power to see the world in Baywatch-style slow motion. In real time, it was almost too much for my brain to process, and by the time I caught up she was already halfway down the catwalk with those motherFUCKING TITS.

To say they were gigantic, bigger than beach balls, bigger than her body's mass, was to do them injustice. I couldn't see her knees. But they were also pleasingly round and forward; just acres and acres of smooth luscious perfect peach bosom wobbling and jiggling like mad with every step. Such a massive pair should have been heavy enough to immobilize her, but they openly defied conventional gravity, while still moving in such a way to make them look less like balloons and more like soft, jiggly flesh.

I knew that if I stuck my hands into those tits, I could sink my whole arms into them. For the moment, I settled for continuing to grip Hoity's basketball-sized boobs, rubbing her high-beaming nipples through her bra.

Moondancer was barely contained by what appeared to be a… kimono? A solid pink robe-like dress that draped around the sides of her tits before being pulled back to a sash around her waist so that the fabric could cover her legs normally. But the ultimate effect of this outfit was a mile of absolute cleavage. The sideboob and nipples (denting the fabric HARD) and most of the areolae were covered, but the center was bare and beautiful.

The bookworm reached the end of the catwalk and took position on the right side of the rounded end, angling her body so that more of the dress was visible – showing off the dark red ribbon in the back that was part of the kimono's sash. This also made her oversized boobs jut out over the side of the stage, revealing how they rested against Moondancer's stomach before the bottoms swept out and formed a perfect perky shape despite their size. Despite looking from the side, more than a little skin was visible from the sheer amount of cleavage bulging up from between the two sides of the robe. I bit my bottom lip to suppress… something. Maybe a whine of need.

All this time, Trixie had been speaking through the sound system, but I honestly hadn't – couldn't have – paid attention to anything she was saying. Standard sales pitch for giant breasts as either cosmetic item or body pride. Something about showing off and grabbing attention. Making big normal. No matter what it was, I was already sold.

Moondancer stayed where she was, but the fog around the center-stage entrance parted again for another set of giant barely-covered tits to wobble out. This time, they were white. Clothed in white. With hints of yellow.

Medicine balls. Spitfire, dressed in a white toga, had boobs the size of medicine balls. The robe draped down from one shoulder and managed to capture the immensity of both breasts – smaller than Moondancer's, but still more massive than the F-cups she'd been sporting earlier.

The expression on her face was mixed. Her brow twitched, tempted to furrow with embarrassment, but her mouth threatened to curl up into a smirk. Showing off the new weights on her chest had to be both a little embarrassing and a little exciting.

I was again entranced by their wobble as she walked, though they did less of it thanks to their relatively smaller size and the toga's stricter support. Hoity Toity, squirming in my lap and gliding her hands over my cockhead like she was polishing it, leaned forward and cooed with interest. I took that as a good sign.

Spitfire took the opposite edge of the runway from Moondancer, sticking her white-clothed breasts out the other direction and leaving just enough room in the middle for a third participant…

Trixie was still speaking to the whole stage, but now she was also coming out from the center stage entrance, tits-first. And oh boy what tits.

They were in the middle of Spitfire's and Moondancer's boobs, size-wise. Big enough to obscure her hips, but you could still see her knees occasionally. They were contained in two blue fabric hammocks hanging down from her shoulders and covering almost the bare minimum vertically, exposing a great expanse of blueberry cleavage AND sideboob. The fabric terminated in a more gown-like skirt, so I could only assume this was meant to be some kind of formal sling dress compared to Moondancer's kimono and Spitfire's toga. How these girls managed to pick three different styles of giant-breast fashion on such short notice was a mild curiosity to go along with my fetishistic joy.

I was getting used to giant boobs enough that one pair was merely pleasing instead of gobsmackingly amazing, but seeing three up on the catwalk was almost too much to bear. My hands dug into Hoity Toity's bra with almost painful intensity, and my cock throbbed and spurted precum onto her thighs.

For her part, Hoity seemed to be getting excited. The other ponies in the room – Photo, Sapphire, a few techies – they all seemed captivated by the show, too. All Trixie had to do was seal the deal.

Trixie gave the runway her best big-boob strut, levitating a microphone up to her face so she could walk and talk. "ARE YOU READY, CANTERLOT?" she announced as my brain finally tuned in to her sales pitch. "READY TO NOT ONLY ACCEPT BIG BREASTS AS A FACT OF LIFE, BUT AS A WAY OF LIFE, AS A STATUS SYMBOL!?"

The magician maneuvered past her two cohorts, the sides of her enormous tits bumping and squishing against Spitfire's and Moondancer's backs. Moondancer nearly tumbled forward off the stage, but righted herself with a magical pull and tried not to look like she'd nearly pratfallen onto her massive cushions.

"ARE YOU READY FOR…" And the three girls posed together the best they could, thrusting their chests out from the edge of the stage, as Trixie announced, "'BREAST EXPANSION CHIC!'" The club music hit its final note at the same time, bringing a climactic end to the impromptu big-tit fashion show.

"Yeah!" went the stallions and mares in the crowd.

"Woo, alright!" cried Sapphire Shores.

"Vundarbar!" Photo Finish shouted, applauding.

But the hands around my dick twisted painfully. "Arrrrrgh!" went the campy fashion critic, and I groaned for an entirely different reason. Thankfully, she realized what she'd done in her frustration and quickly got off my lap.

Trixie and the others stared incredulously at the irate mare. "Uh, what?"

"Is that… Hoity?" Moondancer asked.

"Woah," Spitfire said, her eyes going wide at the former stallion wearing nothing but socks, lingerie, and a brand new pair of boobs.

Hoity didn't give one flying fuck, though, as she marched up to the stage half-nude. "'Breast Expansion Chic'?!" she shrieked. "That's the best name you could come up with?!"

As I massaged my mildly Indian-burned shaft, I listened to her rant. The Normal was having one of its weird foibles; it was time to pay close attention.

"Hey, the human set this all up," Trixie said to the genderbent guru, dropping a reference to me to try and reinforce the Normal suggestion with my permission.

But again, Hoity was undeterred. "You can't just call it something so… gauche and crass and, worst of all, OBVIOUS! Not as the official name! Ugh, this ALWAYS happens!" She paced back and forth in front of the runway's end. "These designers come up with smart, forward-thinking ideas… and then they pick the WORST name! And then guess what – it doesn't sell! Imagine that!"

"Woah woah, hang on," I said, trying to calm things down a bit. "You still like the idea though, right?"

"It doesn't matter what I think!" she declared, pointing generally out of the convention hall. "It matters what the masses out THERE think. Marketing, ponies, marketing! If a fashion line ever hopes to break out and really change the landscape, set a trend – then it has to speak to the ponies' needs on multiple levels! You can't just call it 'Big Breast Fashion' and hope it sticks. No one will take it seriously!"

I vaguely had an idea of where she (he?) was coming from. Hoity's expertise came from understanding the business of fashion just as much as the art of fashion. He couldn't put his stamp of approval on something low-quality without compromising some of his deepest values.

Trixie sighed. "Okay, so you don't like the name," she muttered. "But what's your opinion of the philosophy? More high fashion for those greater endowed. The mainstreaming of growth as an eye-catching accessory. Those ideas can still work, right?"

Had that been what Trixie's pitch was about? In all the big-tit watching (which was still in progress), Trixie's speech had gone in one ear and out the other.

Hoity Toity took a big deep breath and finally started to chill out a bit. "Yes, yes… all good in theory." She shook her head and waved the obscenely busty mares off. "Look, I understand this was a proof of concept. An outsider's attempt. And you girls should be commended for the effort." With a critical but appreciative eye on the girls' forms, she added, "Even taking into account the extra… volume you were carrying, all three of you handled the catwalk admirably. Every step was where it needed to be. Well done for a set of first-time models."

Spitfire shrugged, making her toga-bound tits bounce. "Every step kinda HAD to be confident. Gotta push that ballast."

"Indeed," Hoity mused. "That might be a good way to train new models, really… 'Here, walk the catwalk with these enhanced breasts a few times.' That'd teach posture quite quickly, I'd think."

Trixie huffed with impatience. "So putting aside the name – this is something you want to see realized, right? Can we get it into Fashion Week?"

With a blink, Hoity said, "You… Was that the idea all along? To convince us to sneak some big-breast high-fashion into the biggest show of the year?"

"Damn straight!" I yelled from my chair.

"Ha!" Sapphire Shores laughed. "Well, throw me in Tartarus; why not? Heck, I'd take it under my name if I could fit it into my Sapphire Sensations line."

Photo Finish put a hand on her chin. "There is no shortage of designers who vant so badly to get into Fashion Week… They'd be happy to work on a last-minute, pre-determined entry so long as their name gets into the lineup…"

"Yes, it's perfectly possible!" Hoity Toity nearly growled. "But in its current state, it's not salable. Do you not see that's what I've been trying to say?" She let out a sigh. "You heard my lecture about proportions in the industry. In fact, that's why you did this, didn't you? You knew I'd want this sort of thing to become a reality."

Moondancer put on a sheepish grin. "Sorry."

"No matter. I'm open to doing everything in my power to bring this idea to Fashion Week, but ONLY IF we find a suitable name to pierce the hearts and minds of its potential customers."

So all we needed was a name, huh? This was kind of crazy when I thought about it. Three girls with breasts big enough to cover their torsos were on stage, and that wasn't enough to make an impression. Somewhat exasperatedly, I said, "Well…! You're the genius, apparently! Do YOU have a better name?"

Hoity put a hand to her temple and shook her head no. "I'm afraid that name – which I shall not repeat, and you shouldn't either – was so terrible that it's taxed me of my creative capacity. I don't play doctor to bad ideas; I'm their coroner."

I wasn't exactly coming up with a winner myself. Looking around the room, the rest of the ponies gathered had similar puzzled looks. What the hell do you call a fashion line that's meant to say 'Huge breasts are good and the mares who wear them should be proud'?

To our surprise, the fog machines started up again. The sound system kicked into gear with an airy jazz number.

Into the spotlight stepped a tall, pink, and now overly busty supermodel.

Fleur Dis Lee had already been one of the biggest in the room, but she'd gone and gotten herself blown up too. And yet, her dress managed to command more attention than her sheer size. It was a strapless dress a shade of pink lighter than her skin – and how it was holding on to her front was as mysterious as it was miraculous, because her back and a great deal of sideboob was on display.

But the star of the piece was the design ornamenting the chest – a multi-layered floral pattern starting from above her navel and spreading out in big leaf-like folds until it reached the upper slope of her breasts, sticking up like petals. It had the effect of making her great abundance of boob look like it was bursting out, and the way her breasts swayed and jiggled like a vast ocean past the shores of the petals conjured images of sweet nectar. Somehow, she'd made a giant pair of tits look even more beautiful, almost artful. I wanted to see a painting of Fleur in this dress.

Everyone was raptly attentive to her catwalk strut. As her hips swayed from side to side, it was easy to notice that the lower half of her dress was 1) very glittery, and 2) draped snugly over an exaggerated set of hips and a backside with more than extra bounce. Not only had Fleur upgraded her T; she'd gotten plenty of A in the deal, as well.

My girls parted almost automatically to let her reach the front of the stage. Spitfire took flight and hovered nearby, and Moondancer carefully stepped down off the edge, leaving Trixie, who just stepped aside and back to let Fleur dominate the stage, front and center.

And when the supermodel did reach the end, standing imposingly over all the other ponies with her exaggerated but decorated assets… She simply smiled, raised her arms, and said, "Beauty In Bloom."

You could almost feel the words reverberate through the small crowd.

A couple seconds later, Hoity kissed his lips and shouted, "Yes, yes, YES! That is what I'm talking about! That's perfect! Perfection itself!"

"Beauty In Bloom, huh?" Sapphire mused. "Kinda says it all, doesn't it?"

"Assistant!" Hoity cried out, and a stallion was next to her in moments, his eyes desperately trying to avoid staring at her lingerie. She paid his nervous face no heed as she said, "Get me the list of designers who were rejected for Fashion Week this year!"

"I can suggest a few names," Fleur cut in, looking down over her bust at the critic. "There's one in particular who I think would be perfect for this…"

I was a bit shocked. That was it? Fleur states a new name and we're off to the races? She wasn't even part of my Normal brigade! She wasn't a part of the scheme! So… why?

Trixie looked at Fleur with the same amount of suspicion I was starting to feel. "Thanks for the help… I guess."

Fleur just gave her an innocent little smile. "You looked like you were having fun. I didn't want something as simple as a name to ruin your efforts."

Gawking a little, Moondancer looked up at the giant-breasted VIP and said, "So… you coordinated with the sound guy, got the growth spell, picked out a dress… to back us up on our show?"

"I thought it was adorable!" Fleur said, beaming. "It's not often someone gets up on the catwalk and just goes for it. I thought you deserved whatever help I could offer."

Spitfire nodded, carefully balancing herself so she could land back on the stage. "Well, thanks. You really made a good case for this…" She glanced down at her ginormous chest. "…weird, silly idea."

"It's not as silly as you might think," Fleur remarked. "I grew into a large chest myself, as you might've noticed, so I know what it's like." She placed a hand on her dress and added, "But if you'll excuse me, I, erm, 'borrowed' and modified this dress from backstage – I should really set things right before whoever designed this gets angry with me."

As Fleur made her way back down the catwalk, her tail swaying and framing her generous ass while her massive boobs swayed to and fro, I felt a twinge in my crotch. Not the horny kind of twinge, either. After a whole day's worth of sex with no real breaks, I suddenly and very desperately needed to use the men's room.

"I'll be right back!" I called out. I got up from my chair and pulled up my pants and underwear. Immediately, there was a problem of fitting my newly enhanced junk into my old clothing, but I just did my best to hold everything up with my hands while I sprinted for the nearest exit.

Thankfully, the stallions' room wasn't hard to find. I found the relief I sought very quickly, and even made sure to rinse my penis off thoroughly in the sink (though the fact that I could do that without much leaning was mind-boggling in and of itself).

With that unsexy biological function dealt with, I made another effort to put on my pants. Before, I'd been able to get by because, even though my cock and balls were bigger after the hospital visit, my thighs had slimmed down at the same time. But now, with just a sexual upgrade, I had to stick my cock partially down one pant leg even while soft, and I had to walk carefully so I didn't crush my sack between my thighs.

I was starting to have big dick problems. I kinda liked it, but it was also annoying. Not having a ridiculous, unwieldy tube hanging from my crotch was the one sane advantage I had over stallions, and now even that was disappearing.

With a sigh, and a careful gait, I stepped out of the stallions' restroom… and bumped into Fleur, who was coming out of the adjacent mares' restroom.

"Oh, sorry!" she apologized. "I was just freshening up."

I looked down from her eyes. The tall mare had reduced her melons back to her 'natural' size, which was still big enough to touch my chest from a couple of feet away, and gotten back into her more conservative formal dress.

"I understand that was all your idea, hmm?" Fleur said, striking up a conversation in the empty hallway. "How generous of you to address the plights of well-endowed mares." The grin on her face after that said she knew it wasn't out of the goodness of my heart.

I blushed and rubbed the back of my neck. "Well… y'know. Win-win. And, y'know, thank you. You really saved our baco–" Whoops, vegetarians. "–um, our butts in there."

"It was the least I could do."

Some of my former questions returned. "Yeah, it was a real coup," I said evenly. "Beauty In Bloom is basically yours now. So… why'd you want it?"

Fleur shrugged. "It's a business opportunity. If it pans out, it could be lucrative." She waited a moment in thought, but seemed to reconsider and said, "Nothing more, nothing less."

The way she paused made me suspicious. She'd had her eyes on me from a distance basically the whole while I was here. The timing of her entrance, swooping in to save the day of our Normal initiative, was a little too convenient. "Is that so. You sure about that?"

With the Normal, I could afford to be openly curious. Fleur's eyes glanced to the side in quiet admission of guilt, but a moment later they were focused on me and back to their usual confident playfulness. "Hmhm… You got me. After seeing your work at the stadium, seeing you here… Well, it made me curious what you might get up to here. You may be Equestria's only human, and for that reason no one minds your presence… but doing the things you do, you're still quite obviously a VIP, a Very Important Person." She allowed herself a wider smirk. "Watching you closely is only good sense in the Canterlot strategy."

That made me frown a bit. You'd think having the power of Normal, of a universal pass for everything I do and say, would allow me to avoid a certain amount of notoriety. But that's apparently not how this worked. Normal and acceptable did not necessarily mean uninteresting. If I made waves, ponies would take note that I was making waves. They just wouldn't think I was wrong or unworthy of doing so. Yet another factor of this power to consider.

Fleur seemed to notice the look on my face and gave me a sympathetic smile. Then she leaned forward (hanging her chest lower, to my secret delight) and whispered, "I might have also been using a covert eavesdropping spell…"

I jumped back. "Aw, fuck!" Question number one: How much did she hear?!

She reached out and put a hand on my shoulder not so reassuringly. "I'm truly sorry. I'm not the sort to dig for blackmail, not anymore. Nor is Fancy. You just… looked like you were under a great deal of pressure, while demonstrating that you were capable of great things. That combination convinced me, us, that it was worth understanding who you were and what was driving you."

"Great," I muttered. "So Fancy Pants is in on it."

Fleur shook her head. "No. He asked if I would share any insights I gathered during your visit here, but… The decision to eavesdrop and invade your privacy was mine and mine alone." With a wry smile, she added, "Fancy is far better at this 'moral code' thing than I am, I'm afraid…"

My mind raced back to the important question. If she'd heard every conversation that I'd assumed was out of earshot due to sheer distance in the conference hall… that meant she'd heard Spitfire and me getting the chairs, the four of us after the enhancement discussing Breast Expansion Chic, and the entire ordeal with Moondancer. Was that enough to piece together what my power was? I decided to give up guessing and just be direct. "How much do you know?"

"I know you have a power," she said. "It affects ponies' minds. It lets you get away with just about anything, but not everything. There are some strange rules and limitations you're still coming to terms with."

That was just about the complete picture. Damn it all.

Her frown turned upwards a bit. "And you are trying very hard to use it carefully, which is… admirable. It reminds me of somepony." She reached out, took my hand, and looked directly into my eyes. "Would you be willing to fill in the blanks for me?"

Here I was again. Another mare looking to join the Normal Pervert Squad. She didn't even seem to have a problem with what I was doing. In fact, she'd taken advantage of it. But telling her everything would mean telling her about my curse and going over every single damn moral argument I'd had since arriving in town today. Did I really need to retread all that again? Was I the kind of person who couldn't refuse a pretty face and big breasts to go with it?

Surprising myself a bit, I pulled back my hand. "You know what? No. I'm not going to tell you."

Fleur nodded. "That is absolutely fair." Sweeping back the curl of pink mane on her shoulder, she said, "Then at the very least, may I accompany you to Prince Blueblood's fundraiser, starting soon? I hear you arrived via sky chariot. I've always wanted to make a Canterlot entrance that way." She winked and added, "You can think up whatever punishment you like on the way over."

It was a hell of an offer from a mare that had just confessed to spying on me, but I was glad to not be starting another round of ethical debates. "Sure. Feel free."

"Thank you. Shall we return to the others? They must be wondering where we are."

When we got back to the conference hall, things seemed to have calmed down a bit. Hoity Toity was still female, but back in her suit. She and the rest of the mares present were chatting amongst themselves in front of the stage. Spitfire, Moondancer, and Trixie had returned the dresses they'd borrowed or made, but their breasts were still as big as they'd been enhanced to be. Now they were topless or nude, the nipples and areolae on proud display. Commence another round of ogling from me.

Trixie grinned at me as I returned. "I'd say it's 'mission accomplished,' Pascal."

With a nod, I replied, "Roger. Unfortunately, that means we should probably get going."

"Aww, that's a shame," Moondancer said genially. "I actually… kind of enjoyed this visit."

Spitfire looked at her enormous boobs again and groaned. "Sure, NOW let's go to the party full of important ponies who can see these gigantic titties we grew."

Photo Finish gave the stunt flyer a look. "You know you can just ask the unicorns to dispel it, do you not? You don't need to wait the full three to five hours."

The captain blushed a little and rushed past me. "Let's just get going." Fleur giggled.

"You guys are goin'?" Sapphire Shores drawled. She fixed a smoldering look on me and said, "Alright, but if you ever wanna talk about spreadin' that delicious 'love' of yours all over Equestria, you drop on by, you hear? I'll even put you on the short list of ponies who always have… 'backstage access.'"

I was seriously digging her innuendo, but the way she licked her lips and how her hands drifted south… It made me a little worried for her mental state. She'd tasted my cum, after all, and seemed to be having a pretty strong reaction. It was probably my responsibility to set things right. So I got real close to the Pony of Pop and quietly said, "Hey, listen… Just keep in mind, that 'love' you're talking about might have some… chemically addictive properties."

"Oh, I figured," Sapphire stated casually.

I did a double-take. "Excusez-moi?"

A wide smirk stretched across her muzzle. "Why do you think I wanna sell it in the first place? Get that out there as an aphrodisiac, and that's guaranteed cashflow, baby!"

My brain broke. My inner monologue was just 'holy shit' repeated ad nauseum for about ten solid seconds. When I rebooted, I grabbed Fleur's hand and made for the doors. "I'll take a rain check!"

"Call me!" Sapphire Shores shouted.

Trixie and Moondancer hurried to catch up with me, and when they did I looked at them and muttered, "Fucking ponies in this town are crazy!"

"Welcome to Canterlot, heh…" Moondancer muttered.

Fleur giggled again and said, "Can't deny it."

As we made our way into the lobby, Trixie glanced at Fleur and said, "So… are you part of our group now?" There was an annoyed edge to her voice that I was sure was directed at me.

"No, no, not like that," I was quick to say, meaning 'I didn't let her in on the secret' with all my heart. It was technically true. "She's just… catching a ride to the fundraiser."

I could almost hear the suppressed sigh of relief from the magician.

When we got outside the front doors, I got a surprise: It was sunset! The streets were bathed in golden light and elongating shadows. It was quite far along, too – we must have entered the Canterlot Convention Center just as the sky was changing. My time limit keeping me from Celestia was approaching its end.

"Alright, one more stop," I said to the group. "Let's make it count."

Spitfire was already by the sky chariot, getting ready to carry it (and her two megaboobs), so the remaining four of us made our way down the steps to the street. Except that halfway down, I noticed that Trixie was still at the top of the stairs, apparently lost in thought.

"Something the matter?" I asked.

Trixie gave me a worried look, but her eyes darted to Fleur.

I sighed and said, "Fleur? Can you wait in the chariot? We need to talk for a second… privately." I did my best to make it clear that I didn't want her to eavesdrop on us again.

The supermodel nodded in a significant way, subtly signaling that my unspoken order was heard, and made her way down the rest of the steps and opened up the chariot doors. Moondancer remained beside me, sticking around for my and Trixie's powwow.

Trixie lowered her head so that her hat partially covered her eyes. "In this spot," she said, "Spitfire gave you her argument for why you should… well, make one decision over another. Well… something's been bugging me since the showers, something that might make a counterargument."

This was unexpected, to say the least. Moondancer was surprised, too. "You're not advocating for…?"

"No, I'm not saying 'corrupt all of Equestria,'" Trixie muttered irritably. "I'm just saying…" She sighed. "I'm worried about what happens after. If you decide to sacrifice yourself. What happens to the rest of us? What happens to all this? Breast Expansion Chic– I mean, Beauty In Bloom. The Wonderbolts' coping mechanism. Donut Joe's donuts. The Canterlot Inn's pleasure policy. Everything we've been doing today. What happens to all that if you go away?"

That… was an interesting question. One I didn't have an immediate answer to. Mainly because I realized there was even more at stake than just the work I'd done today. Mainly Derpy and her topless regime…

Oh God. Derpy. She had so much to lose if I failed.

"I mean…" Trixie continued haltingly. "What if… What if, instead of, you know, being your sex slave for one day which is fine and normal… I'm that magician girl with a checkered past who slutted it up in Canterlot that one weekend? I'm… I'm not sure my reputation could handle that…"

Moondancer grimaced and looked at me. "What do you think will happen, Pascal? Does it work retroactively like that?"

I thought back to the flower trio in Ponyville, and their first reaction to me after the Normal was applied to me. "Well… It kinda worked retroactively when it turned on."

"Shit," Trixie cursed. She glared at me and said, "You'd better not lose, then."

"W-What?" Moondancer exclaimed, panicking slightly. "Have you been listening? He better not 'win' either!"

I put up my hands. "Best case scenario, Celestia gets the Normal to lay off and I stay as I am. Worst case scenario… Well, I don't think history will change, so I'll still be the human who did all this… I'll be a scapegoat. I'm pretty sure nobody will be held accountable for things I told them to do during 'that sex spree.'"

"No guarantee of that," Trixie muttered. "Ponies don't mind blaming whoever when it comes to their 'values.'" She glanced over at Spitfire, who was tapping her foot impatiently, then back at me. "It's not just you versus the world like she said. We're in it, too. We've all got a stake in this now."

Moondancer looked sympathetic but pained. "Trixie… You may be right, but I don't think we tip the scales in Pascal's favor. It's still the few versus the many, and the many outnumbers us by a lot. …No offense, Pascal."

"Nah, I hear ya."

Trixie sighed and looked at me. "I just… don't want you to think you'll just be sacrificing yourself, okay? I'll respect your decision if that ends up being the only thing you can do, but… try. PLEASE try to avoid it."

I nodded gravely and said, "I understand, Trixie." I wasn't sure what else to say. This was even more to think about.

The magician's face scrunched up kind of cutely. "You're lucky," she mumbled at me. "Whenever YOU'RE stressed, you can just stick your head in some tits to calm down."

"You should honestly give it a shot," I replied. "It's very therapeutic. Very soft."

Trixie thought for a second… then looked at the most impossibly breasted pony beside me. "Moondancer?"

The bookworm balked for a moment, then rolled her eyes and parted her massive cleavage with her magic. "Alright, come in here."

Trixie crouched low, the tops of her breasts bumping against the bottoms of Moondancer's, and gently pushed her head between the student's ultra-enhanced boobs, which were then released and allowed to return to their natural rest, squeezing Trixie's head inside. I heard a loud sigh of relief from within a few moments later. Moondancer smiled almost affectionately as Trixie snuggled into her sensitive bosom.

I figured it would only be polite to give them a minute or two so that Trixie would be relaxed and ready for the final leg of our journey.

Thirty seconds in, I said, "Fuck it," and stuck my head into that boob nirvana as well.