Whitewisp did not want to be here.

He glanced around the room, his eyes darting from side to side. Around him, the thrum-thrum of the club thudded through the floor, a heartbeat that stirred the crowd to frenzy. Lights of every color flashed and oozed through the smoky air, spicy and bitter smells driving his twitching nose insane.

His friends were nowhere to be seen. Crimson Wing and Butterbear had long since vanished into the crowd. Probably grinding up against some pretty mare right now. Leaving him all alone. Assholes.

His lip curled—just before he narrowly missed the whirling figure of a mare speeding across the dance floor. She was laughing just loudly enough to be heard over the steady bum-bum-bump of the bass, twirling and jerking fast enough to send her whole body shaking. He caught a generous eyeful of her...assets as she went. They were huge: a pair of plump, rounded melons bouncing up and down on her chest to the beat of the music. He just barely ducked to the side in time for her to go cackling past, shaking her ass and chest with each wub of the stereo.

Wisp panted. Stumbling back, he momentarily relaxed when he felt his back touch the cool plaster of the wall. At least here, he could be out of the action.

Damn it. He hadn’t even wanted to come to this club. He’d wanted to go drinking, at most, or maybe just go see a Canterlot Colts game. But no, Crimson had heard of this club that supposedly had “the DJ with the biggest tits in all Equestria,” and he’d just had to come see it. Not to mention that the stallion had more alcohol in his brain than neurons.

Another mare went whirling past, this time held tight in the arms of another stallion. Whitewisp stiffened, and then immediately did his best to ignore the stiffening at his crotch at the sight of her bouncing tits. Her breasts were even larger than the last girl’s. It didn’t help matters, either, that they were all but squished against her partner’s chest, rubbing and jiggling against the stallion’s well-defined pecs. Wisp slipped for a moment into a fantasy of being in that position, feeling a pretty mare’s breasts bouncing against his chest—

And then his glance slipped downward, and he gulped. Hard. The mare wasn’t the only one doing a lot of jiggling. Even as he watched, a bulge in the stallion’s pants stirred to life. It had already been large, but as his eyes widened in awe, it started to push outward, bulging obscenely against the fabric around it. It rubbed against the mare’s thigh like a dog in heat, and the stallion groaned as the material around it cracked and split. The mare went in for a kiss, mindless and lustful, and the stallion returned it. Something in that kiss was primal in a manner that went far beyond sloppy. It was hungry.

Wisp’s eyes lingered on the stallion’s crotch for a moment more. He still could scarcely believe that something of that size could even exist. He himself wasn’t a big stallion—seven inches was fairly respectable, he’d always thought—but the mammoth sausage bursting the other colt’s trousers looked to be almost three times that. And those balls. Wisp felt sweat dripping down his forehead at the sight of them. It looked like a pair of cantaloupes had been simply stuffed down his pants, so swollen with seed that the clothes themselves looked all but painted on.

With a grunt, Wisp tore his gaze away. He let his eyes linger on the mare’s bust for a moment longer before forcing that out of his vision as well. His erection stirred against the confines of his pants, suddenly needy. He scowled down at it. It throbbed in return, his underwear suddenly feeling extremely tight.

Then something caught his eye. Wisp focused on another stallion that was passing him by and swallowed. This time, it was a pair of stallions, each one grinding against the other as though there was no tomorrow. The bulges at their crotches looked even larger than the last one’s had. Whitewisp’s mouth went dry. Was that even possible?

His wings pulled in closer toward his back, tucking over each other as his feathers curled inwards. Wisp shrunk inward, suddenly feeling very small indeed. Everywhere he looked, it seemed, were ponies whose “assets” were somehow larger than life. Each stallion’s package looked bigger—and damper with arousal—than the last. Each mare’s chest was wider than the one to her left, until he doubted that even his head was as big as a single one of those enormous pillows.

He’d begun to feel a bit dizzy. Suddenly wondering if he was hallucinating from whatever had been smoking up the air, he stumbled forward, his thoughts swimming. This was just too much. He had to get out of here. Yes, his throbbing erection whispered, to a suitably private bathroom.

As though he was wading through a dream, he pushed his way through the crowd, no longer caring whose breasts, ass, or crotch he brushed against. His erection did, though. With each passing second, he felt it straining harder against the soft fabric of his boxers. A warm trickle of sticky precum oozed down his leg, and he felt a sudden damp spot against his leg.

Fuck. He was lost. His head was pounding, and the sea of thrashing, gyrating bodies around him had spun him around so many times that he felt like he was ready to vomit. Every inch of space around him was filled with something, be it a bouncing, jiggling bra, or a thickly muscled arm. Even the ponies around him were too tall to see the EXIT sign over—and Wisp had never been a short stallion.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, as he continued to wade through the sea of dancers, he just barely registered the echoing words: And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for. The biggest DJ sensation in all of Canterlot—Vinyl Scratch!

Suddenly, the crowd vanished. Wisp went stumbling forward, suddenly falling into empty air. He landed on his hands and knees and groaned. His head was throbbing. Behind him, he could hear the sound of momentous applause, and the stomping of shoes on the ground that could only resemble a stampede. Still groaning, he massaged his temples and slowly raised his head—

—only to meet the eyes of the absolute largest mare he’d ever seen.

She wasn’t the “largest” in terms of her bust, mind you. Well, she was—he doubted that any mare in the room could hold a candle to her, and just one of those knockers looked almost bigger than him. No; the first thing he noticed was her sheer size. She towered above him, her head reaching far toward the ceiling. The sunglasses-wearing stallion beside her looked like a foal compared to her height, and if the roll of...something between his teeth was any indication, he was anything but.

The mare was...incredible. Bright white fur, and a mane so lightning blue that it seemed to shimmer with electricity. She wore her own pair of sunglasses, a pair of dark black circles that kept a single beam of light from glinting through. Ten feet tall if she was an inch, even the tallest of stallions in the room would have had to struggle to reach above her stomach. Each one of her tits was enormous as well, a pair of massive, globular spheres that jiggled and shook like barrels of jello. The “skirt” she was wearing did absolutely nothing to conceal the massive, godlike ass that stuck out behind her, and he even caught a glimpse of an eight-note Cutie Mark and a pair of silk black panties peeking out beneath the fabric.

He was suddenly aware of an increasing dampness spreading across his crotch. His engorged cock grinded against his soft boxers, a steady stream of pre drooling down his leg. Even as he registered the cold sweat that had broken out on the back of his neck, Wisp felt his member give another splort, another damp patch of arousal blossoming across his groin.

As quickly as if somepony had set a fire beneath his tail, Whitewisp scrambled to his feet. His eyes flickered for another glance beneath the mare’s skirt on the way up, but some flutter of wind had sent the cloth back down to cover up her crotch. Even so, that wasn’t enough to keep him from getting a good eyeful of her thick thunder thighs, a pair of tree-trunk legs so thick with fat and muscle that he wouldn’t have been surprised to see them crack a stone placed in between.

“Yo, everypony!” The mare’s voice thundered out over the room, her rich, rumbling voice easily rolling out over even the loudest wub of the beat. The crowd cheered again, the shapes around him stopping their whirling just for a moment to greet this massive, incredible mare. Dimly, Wisp registered that this must be the Vinyl Scratch that Crimson had wanted to see. “Biggest tits.” Sure. Something told him that Crimson hadn’t been sober enough to hear about the size of the rest of her.

Vinyl Scratch grinned. Her eyes, though concealed beneath her sunglasses, nevertheless carried a glint of amusement. “You all havin’ a good time!”

A resounding cheer answered her. Her grin widened until it looked like it was about to split her face in two. She shoved a fist up in the air and planted the other in her hip.

“Well, fuck. That’s all I wanted to hear!” She bobbed her head to a few beats of the song, her mane thrashing from side to side. She gave a thumbs-up to the first DJ, and he returned it with a smirk. A second later, her horn was glimmering with a bright blue aura, and a classic vinyl record was spinning through the air toward her. She snatched it out of the air and tossed it to the stallion beside her. He caught it with a grin and slapped it down onto the disk table in front of him. Instantly, the beat changed. The crowd went wild, and sped back into the thumping rhythm.

Wisp didn’t even notice that she was looking at him until she was crouched down with her elbows on her knees, her tits resting gently between her thighs. “Hey,” she said, her voice just barely audible over the beat. “You havin’ fun, little dude?”

Wisp stared at her like a changeling who’d crash-landed into an orphanage. “Um,” he said, in a very small voice. “What?”

Vinyl’s mouth quirked up at the side. “I asked if you were havin’ fun,” she asked. She gestured out to the dance floor behind him, to the sea of gyrating bodies beyond. He caught a glimpse of bright red eyes, glinting with amusement just above the rim of her sunglasses—and then she pushed them back up her nose with a snort. “Kinda the point of this kinda gig.”

“Oh! U-um, yeah.” Whitewisp coughed. He was doing his best to keep his eyes from lingering on...well, any part of her, really. Unfortunately, in his efforts to keep from staring at her breasts—or her thighs—or her ass—he really only succeeded in giving his eyes a whopping world tour of the massive mare in front of him, an experienced which only made his pounding libido even worse. “Lots.”

Vinyl’s eyebrows went up. “Y’sure?” she asked. She folded her arms across her chest, her forearms squishing into the mass of pillowy flesh resting there. He suddenly noticed that, even crouching down, she was still a good head taller than him—and to boot, she loomed so easily over him that he doubted she couldn’t have done it if she’d been three feet shorter. Her entire posture screamed it, a powerful, lazy confidence that intensified the whole experience of her size to a rising crescendo. He caught his gaze straying to one of her biceps—Celestia, but that thing was huge—before he hastily swung it back toward her eyes. “‘Cuz it don’t look like it to me.”

Wisp suddenly was not sure what to expect. Some quiet, mouselike part of him was currently shrieking in a corner and praying for the big mare not to squish him. “No, really,” he said, forcing a grin onto his face. “L-lots of fun.”

She answered with a big, goofy grin of her own. The steady wub-wub-wub of the beat seemed to disintegrate in moments, her rumbling voice the only sound his ears cared to hear. “Well, that’s great!” she said. She gave him a sudden smack on the back that nearly sent him sprawling. “But I could see how you were lookin’ out there. Not dancing, not makin’ out. Not even fooling around.” She raised an eyebrow again. “Maybe I could show you a bit of fun myself.”

What. “What?” Wisp held up his hands, his eyes going wide. “I—no, it’s really not necessary.” Yes, it’s necessary, his boner screamed. It strained against his pants, throbbing so hard that he almost feared it would tear right through them and leap for the goddess of a mare looming in front of him. “I mean, unless—” He swallowed and stopped himself short.

Before he knew it, she’d gotten down on her knees beside him. With her head still a good half-foot above his, she gently took him in the crook of her elbow and pulled him close to her body. He stiffened on reflex, especially when he felt her very large, very soft breast squishing against his torso.

“Oh, c’mon.” Vinyl’s voice had descended into a purr, and the rumbling in her chest sent little waves of motion bouncing across her bust. Wisp felt every jiggle, every counterwave of titflesh on his chest and belly. He gulped, his throat constricting as he prayed that she didn’t notice the tent in his pants. She took his butt in her big hand and gave it a squeeze. He bit his lip, a hot shudder going through his body as he felt her fingers massaging his ass through his tight jeans.

He was powerless to resist the pressure of her big, strong arms on his behind. Slowly, helplessly, he rotated in place until he was facing back toward the dance floor. The sea of dancing ponies came back into view, a crowd of whooping, grinding flesh that filled the air with a charged, sexual musk.

Or was that just him? He felt a sudden tightness over his crotch and moaned. Another splurt of pre stained his pants, and he felt his stallionhood stir. As he watched, Vinyl’s hand came up from the corner of his vision and paused in his upper peripheral. Shooting him a wicked, sly grin, Vinyl carefully licked the clear, sticky liquid that was dripping between her fingers. Whitewisp felt his heart drop into his stomach—or perhaps, by the throbbing that now seemed to override his very heartbeat, his crotch.

“Look at ‘em,” she purred, giving her fingers one last lick. Her elbow curled inward, squishing him against her massive cleavage. Wisp whimpered softly, feeling very small, and so very, very turned on. Acquiescing, he turned back to the crowd and watched couples whirling and jerking across the dance floor. “Nice and big. Gettin’ out there and making sure everypony can see it. Doesn’t it look like they’re having fun?”

Wisp felt his pathetic little erection squirm in his pants. “Yes,” he croaked, eyeing a bulge in a stallion’s pants that looked longer and thicker than his entire arm. “Yeah, it does.”

Vinyl’s fingers traced tiny circles across his crotch. Her forefinger never touched his straining erection, instead opting to move around it in taunting, teasing patterns. One of her knuckles brushed against the plump sphere of one of his nuts and Wisp groaned, his muscles tensing up.

“But you don’t want everypony to see you,” Vinyl murmured. Her scent was maddening this close. So utterly feminine, yet so powerful. Wisp felt like he could cum from her musk alone. Her bicep swelled against his neck, thick, corded muscle contrasting with the thick, chubby thighs he could feel rubbing against his waist. Her finger slid up his side, then lingered on his collarbone. “Not yet, at least.”

Wisp swallowed. Hard. Otherwise, he stood stock-still, as if fearful that any sudden movements might cause his pants to burst at the seams.

“Y’know,” Vinyl said. She glanced down at him, her blood-red eyes once more visible over the tops of her glasses. “I’m on break for the next hour. Maybe you ‘n I could show each other a little bit of...fun.”

She shot him a smirk. He did his best to shakily grin back. Then, with a yelp, he felt something smack him across the ass, leaving his butt jiggling behind him.

With a grunt, Vinyl heaved herself back up to her full height. Whitewisp was suddenly reminded again of just how big she was...and how small he was in comparison. Trembling slightly, he glanced up at her, barely able to make out her face over the contours of her enormous bust.

“I’ll be in the back room,” Vinyl rumbled, her voice cutting through the thump of the beat. She jerked a thumb back over her shoulder and smirked. “And if you wanna join me… Well, let’s just say I like to make sure that all my customers are having fun. Especially cute lil' studs like you.”

And with that, she gave him a wink, shot him a thumbs-up, and turned to go. As she walked away, Wisp could feel the ground shaking beneath her every step. Her incredible bulk seemed to fill the entire room as she went, her head seeming as though it were mere inches away from scraping against the ceiling. Her wide hips swayed from side to side, her thighs rubbing together as her big, plump butt bounced and jiggled as though it were dancing to the music itself.

She opened a door—the doorknob looked pathetically small in her hand—ducked down, and squeezed herself through. And then the door closed, and she was gone.

Wisp stood there, staring after her, for a few moments more. He raised a hand to his forehead, his fingers trembling, and felt the patches of dried sweat spotting the fur there. He could feel his wings flared out behind him, the joints sticking straight out in a long, impossibly stiff posture. Every twitch of his hips seemed to grind his erection more firmly against his pants, sending waves of arousal through his body. Still shaking, he reached down to feel his crotch. His fingers brushed against a fat smear of precum the size of his palm—his pants were absolutely, completely soaked.

He stood there for a bit longer, letting the music, whoops, and chatter wash over him. Then, with a desire, a curiosity, a hunger boiling deep inside him, he took a deep breath, balled up his fists, and marched forward, his erection leaping and squirming with delight every step of the way.

When he reached the door he’d seen Vinyl Scratch squeeze through, he stopped. A pair of stallions built like a couple of bulldozers glared coolly down at him. Then, slowly, one of them grinned, winked, and nodded him through.

The other already had the door open. Whitewisp gulped, nodded back, and marched on past.

The door swung shut, and the beat of the club vanished behind him.

Next Chapter: Chapter Two Estimated time remaining: 44 Minutes