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-Part 10: Pregnant Rarity, Light Anal, Large Weight, Heavy Feeding, Heavy Exhibitionism, Fisting, Hand Play, Heavy Food Play and Stuffing, Immobility, Oral Sex, Large Plot Progression (Heh... Plot.), Humor

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Across the table, bundled in the black dress that clings to her body, Rarity eyes you quietly. The glow of the convention ball only an hour ago has faded from her thick alabaster figure. Every now and then she spares a glance down at the icecream bowl between you two, filled to overflowing with an absurd amount of scoops. It wasn’t easy to admit the real depths of your feeding fantasies to her, nor was it easy to admit to her how much, puns aside, that fetish has grown. It’s culminated to a full blown fantasy that only fully gripped you earlier that night while you were taking a shower. Following the bout of self pleasure that followed, you’ve been riddled with tension and guilt at the idea of keeping it all from her. Now you’ve divulged the entirety of it to her, and you await her reaction.
Another minute passes, and you watch the melted icecream slowly accumulate in the bowl. She wanted it big and you agreed to share before you could bring yourself to admit what was bothering you. There it sits like some piece of frozen evidence in a case you’re only now realizing might cost you her favor for the rest of the trip or longer. It’s a grim centerpiece to a conversation you can only dread the result of. Outlandish fetishes like immobility and objectification certainly won’t appeal to her. You force yourself to look down at the table and find a moment’s solace in the darkness of one of your hands. Her voice pulls your attention back to her, but you avoid raising your eyes.
“So?”
You sigh, prepared to apologize.

“Well, I’ll not let you squirm, darling. Although admittedly, it is quite enjoyable.”
Your eyes draw up to hers, and she’s still smiling that amused smile that began halfway through your admission.

“You have a... desire, yes? Is it something you want to see through?”

You’re not sure, so you shrug. You briefly wonder if you didn’t jump the gun in admitting it all in the first place - maybe it’s a passing phase? Already your mind is working quickly to recover the situation in this window. Minimize damage, back away now.
It was just a fantasy, nothing major. It was just bugging you that you kept it from her, that’s all.

She looks at you for a moment before returning her eyes to the icecream. She’s blushing slightly now.

“You know, you needn’t worry so much. I’d be glad to... ah... well, I wouldn’t go as far as all that, probably. I’d need time to think, to be sure. I rather like being able to walk, you see.”

Despite the gravity of the situation, you laugh a little at her frankness, and she giggles a bit too before smiling at you and taking one of your hands in her hoof

“But we’ve come quite far, haven’t we? I mean, we’ve been married for some time now. Perhaps it is time we talked about those little...”
-She looks around the empty shop for a moment, unsure if this is the place to have the conversation before leaning into you and dropping her voice-
“Kinks.”
Despite the agony you were in a minute ago, you’re on full alert now. The laughter helped to ease the tightness of your stomach, and suddenly things seem brighter as she eases into the topic. You play with the softening dessert mountain in front of you with your spoon as you wait for her to go on.

“Well, I mean, the things I thought I’d want so long ago are well... different from the things I’ve found I want. We have so much time together, beautiful rose petal romance can only fill so much, you know?”
You nod in agreement. She’s very quick at spotting these sorts of things. You’re not sure how she analyzes your marriage so well, but you imagine briefly that she must spend a great deal of time doing so to come up with even half of this.

“At any rate, I don’t think your wants will harm anything. I’ve rather come to enjoy the games you play, especially around mealtime. Goodness knows it livens up my life in ways I never thought possible... And in the spirit of admitting things, I must confess it’s been rather cute to watch develop.
At this point a final sigh of relief releases from you, and you let your shoulders relax a bit. You know she’ll pick up on a signal like that, she’ll know it had you nervous. Somehow, you’re not in trouble. She catches the sigh and plays perfectly into that expectation.

“Uncomfortable? Good heavens darling, whatever for? Did you think I’d be upset that you had some rather extreme desires in you? I suppose you think that my own wants and needs are all so much more moderate?”
Now that she mentions it, yes and no. You’d have never had her pegged on the outset of your marriage as someone with more extreme fetishes, but now you hold up what you’re sure she’s alluding to. A single hand reaches out and you flex it before her face, clenching and unclenching.

“W-what? Put that away. It’s not what I was talking about. Your hands are... just like anything else. You’ve no reason to think otherwise.”
You prod her gently with it, verbally and physically. Surely she’s not going to hide her affection for them after you just came clean about something so dirty?

“There’s no affection to be had... they’re... they’re normal, alright? Stop that, put that one away and let me talk or I shan’t eat a bite of this monstrosity you’ve put before me.”
You sigh and put your hand under the table. If it’s not your hands, which you’re positive she has a fetish for, then you’re lost at this point. She chances a glance around her before sliding out of her side of the booth and into yours. She pushes your helping hand out of the way as she settles her immense figure in next to you through an awkward combination of sliding and hopping.

Under the table her swollen belly continues on until it rests between her forced apart legs on the seat. She looks up at you as she’s forced to shift it and squeeze it slightly to manage herself into the cramped quarters. Despite yourself, you can’t meet her eyes, her tummy is just too distracting. Each hop it jiggles slightly, and now that she’s up against you, the right of her enormous backside is pressed in all its abundant softness against yours. Her dress rides up slightly and she has to do an awkward body-quaking shuffle to pull it down around her flanks. Finally situated she clears her throat and you meet her eyes. Through the fabric of your pants a hoof touches the rising erection between your legs. She tilts her head as you swallow uncomfortably. Her face grows serious and she leans up to your ear and whispers
“I like to be watched.”

As she draws back she sinks slightly, blushing.

What?
“I-I like it when we’re watched... or when we could get caught.”
She covers her face with her hooves and looks away, and you’re sure you can catch some sniffling.
“I wouldn’t tell you, I wasn’t ever going to. I know it makes you jealous, I know you hate it. I didn’t want you to do it just because you felt guilty or something. I was so hoping when things went... I... I’m sorry.”

The pieces are still falling together as she’s apologizing and you suddenly realize she’s as scared now as you were minutes ago. You pull her into you as everything starts to make sense, but she’s managing a deeper explanation between heavy breaths.
“It started in the supermarket, you remember? Oh I was so... furious that she dared to talk to you, but you’ve no idea how much it occupied my mind afterward... All that raw sexual tension, actually getting caught... so empowering to know that even with all this-”
she nudges her belly-
“Somepony would be so aroused by... me. Not just your infatuation with it, but anyone watching would break down. And it got worse after that... With the kitchen, I’m sure you remember the kitchen while the others were in the living room?”
At the time it was confusing that she’d start something so kinky and risky, yes... but you’d chalked it down to hormones. Silently you wonder how this trend could have built up without your ever noticing.
“Oh I could barely control myself, and of course you complied. You’re so wonderful, such a wonderful man. And then Dash and Twilight, it was just right again. Two of my best friends, and they wanted me to join them. Even for an evening. So I invited them again, this time to dinner first, Heavens how I wanted another taste of that... The evening didn’t go as planned though, I’m sure you remember. You drank the night away and I had to send them off. All that raw want though... You and I ended up fooling around.”
She goes silent as she ponders that particularly close call before plodding on.
“And then I found out you didn’t like it, and I said ‘That’s it then. No more.’ Oh I was simply beside myself that evening, but you reminded me very quickly that there were other kinds of things I could want.”
Her voice drops uncertainly. “P-places we hadn’t dared to put... things... Ever since then I admit, I’ve been rather bad about it. Oh, I tried to give it up, but then the spa happened... and oh goodness. The naughty things we did while anypony could walk in on us... After that I knew I couldn’t stop. We had to get caught again. Ponies had to know about us. Even if we couldn’t get caught, we could do it outdoors. On a mountain for example, overlooking all of Ponyville. Or the Cake’s bakery, or a train station restroom, goodness knows you must have seen it by then...”
You have to remind yourself to close your jaw. It’s just... so different, seeing her perspective for just a minute. You’d chalked it all down to loss of control up until now, but maybe it makes some sense with her personality. She enjoys being the object of people’s attentions, right? Why should it be any different now? You’re broken from your amateur psychoanalysis by another sniffle and you kiss her horn. You tell her you love her, fetish and all.
“I don’t expect anything to change, I didn’t even want to say anything... but you confessed and you were actually communi- well nevermind. You started it. I couldn’t hide it outright.”
Your hand wanders down to her dress and rubs at her tummy.
“What are you... oh no. Don’t do it now, don’t do it because you think I feel bad. Please, I don’t want you to do something you don’t want.”
You lean into her and whisper back for just a moment. It’s not pity or anything of the sort. She’s your wife, you love to make her happy. You’ve loved every risque moment you’ve shared up until now, and it’s not going to change just because her reasons for wanting it weren’t what you thought they were. Slowly your hand creeps between her legs and she spreads them a bit, shifting her tummy up a bit with one hoof.
“Y-you got jealous before. I don’t want that to come between us, please.”
You tell her you’ll cross that bridge when you come to it, and she eases your hand back a bit. She bites her lip as she does it, and looks around desperately before putting it back where it was and rubbing it furiously against her privates. You dig your fingers gently at her slit through her dress, and a small line of wetness appears on it. She squirms and she looks to be on the verge of bursting before finally grasping your arm and removing your hand slowly.
“Let’s talk first. I... We need some boundaries. And I need you to know, it’s more than just that. I don’t just want to risk being caught, I want to be watched again. I’ve had... moments alone, where I thought of Twilight and Dash being involved again. We can’t cross this bridge any later than we can yours. You need to know, I think...”
She stops and looks at the seat next to her. You have to give her a minute to swallow, and remind her that you’ll not judge her for it. She rushes the words together and blush explodes onto her ivory face.
“I think I’d let all of ponyville watch if I could. I’ve had that fantasy. Sometimes I even want them to get involved...dozens of stallions and mares, just watching, toying with themselves...”
Her voice drops to a barely audible squeek. “All watching and so hot over me- us.”
At this you can feel your cheeks burn. Inside you, something stirs and creeps up. Does she really want them involved? Ponies you don’t know, just because... is it because you’re not enough? Why would she want that? You’re married! It’s not fair, all your fantasies involve just her...
“No, no. Please. Please don’t feel that way. It’s because... it’s because it’s a fantasy. You don’t really want to risk my health by my being so big I can’t walk do you? You know what I’m talking about, please think about it... I just wanted you to know... That’s my deepest, darkest fantasy.”
You want a moment to think on it, but you know firsthand that each minute you wait is a moment she’s in agony waiting for a reply. Finally it comes to it, compromise. Just as she said earlier, she’ll give into your wants in moderation. It might not be something you understand, but it’s something you’ve enjoyed too, and not only because she enjoyed it. You have to give it to her somehow... So you settle. Twilight and Rainbow Dash. They’re close friends, and that’s a jealousy you can handle. They can watch, maybe even get involved again if they want to... but she has to be yours and only yours at the end of the day. No one else, either. Twilight and Dash know where you stand. No other ponies, and definitely no stallions. Her smile is slow to appear as you break through the decision.
“Of COURSE I’d be yours, you silly thing. I’m not truly attracted to mares... but I’m not not attracted to- oh heavens! It’s just that I quite enjoy the situation. They’ve been my friends for years, and they’ve got each other. It’s not a permanent thing, just a... a kink.”
She snuggles her head up against your shoulder, horn prodding gently as her smile continues to grow..
“Well then I simply must compromise too. How big do you want?”
You think she’s letting her happiness and relief make her overly generous, and you tell her so. She knows how big you’d go if it was left up to you, and you’re not sure it wouldn’t go past that. She frowns for a moment.
“W-well... I do rather enjoy the attentions, the affections... the treats...”
She suddenly springs into motion, spooning the half-melted icecream into her mouth and gulping it down greedily. She pauses long enough to look at you with a smile on her face before resuming the attack and you start to rub her sides as she does it. Before long all that remains is the melted portion, and she looks at the huge bowl of icecream soup triumphantly.
“I think... I think I’m willing to go this big after the foal’s born. It won’t be as firm, and it won’t be convenient but...”
She pauses. Her decision is a bit more difficult. The games you’ll play with Twilight and Dash aren’t the same, they can be done behind locked doors. She has to carry the weight around with her everywhere, and be seen by everypony. You know in her heart she’s always been a bit reluctant to be seen as big as she is now. That foal makes up well over half of her mass, and if you had to guess you’d say it truly makes up most of it. She looks up at you for help. You reach out and rub her tummy, searching for an appropriate starting point. Mrs. Cake’s a fairly big pony, right?
“W-well, I can be bigger than that. Much bigger. Twice as big, easily. Don’t you look at
her! W-why my flanks will be three times as thick... but-”
But?
“But I’m a bit concerned, you know?”
You tell her you do, and to not feel obligated. Fantasy can be fantasy. She doesn’t have to be drilled in front of a crowd to be happy, and you don’t need an overly massive pony. She frowns at the vulgarity of the example, but you’re sure you see her try to hide spreading her legs a bit as an attempt to smooth her dress. You let your hand wander back between her legs and she snaps them shut, trapping it.
“No, no. It’s just that gaining weight like that is hard for ponies. Pregnancy makes one’s stomach bigger, but... well, ponies usually carry most of their weight in their flanks, their haunches, and their chests... It isn’t as flattering. What I mean is... It’ll be more evenly distributed than what you’re seeing right now. Will you still be happy? I can go until my stomach’s this big again, but my haunches and flanks... they’ll be enormous, if you see what I mean? Is that what you like?”
You rub them gently. Bigger haunches? Wider sides? More cushion when you’re pushing? Whatever shall you do?
“Cushion when you- Oh, you’re positively vulgar tonight. Come here and let me quiet you down.”
She leans up and kisses you. You return the kiss and lift up the icecream bowl with your untrapped hand. She looks at it and cocks an eyebrow before breaking the embrace.
“The whole thing? That’s not sharing.”
You tell her you’ve shared enough for tonight, that you’ll share her with the evening if she’s lucky.
“What? With the evening? What’s that supposed to-”
You force the bowl to her lips and she sighs and starts drinking. The majority of a dozen scoops of icecream goes down her throat and she gulps it expertly. Not a drop is wasted, not a single scoop goes amiss as she chugs. You watch as she slowly lets her stomach swell with the gigantic meal. Her hooves rest on it, but they can’t truly get around it. If she decides to get softer, squishier, less firm after the baby... The sex will be amazing, you know it will be. Still trapped between her legs, you try to use your other hand to continue rubbing at her. She lets out a soft moan as you slip your finger in, bunching up her dress inside her. Her hooves spread around her stomach, rubbing at it slowly in circles. She finally finishes and wipes her mouth with her hoof before looking at you curiously with a sly smile and a readied quip dripping with innuendo.
“Was it as good for you as it was for me?”
Control is lost. You withdraw your hand forcefully and grab her shoulder, hurrying out as the the icecream shop’s owner returns from the back room. As soon as the door clicks behind your backs Rarity turns to ask you what your rush is. She’s met with your suddenly freed erection, visible in the late night street lamps of Canterlot’s empty roads. The blush creeps all the way up to her horn.
“R-really? In the biggest city in Equestria, you’re going to-?”
You pull her dress up over her hips and push her roughly up against the window of the shop. Her face looks in and her breath fogs up the glass as you hike up her dress a bit more and slide yourself into her. She lets out a loud moan, no attempt at control visible, and pushes herself slightly up so that she can see over the tables that were blocking her vision, gazing upon the mare at the counter. She’s as wet as you’d expected as you plunge the tip into her. Tight, too, as if she’s been waiting for a while now.
“Nnnhhhh. Don’t be gentle. Be rough. Make me be bad.”
Over her shoulder you can see vaguely into the shop as the shop’s owner, a light teal pony, continues to replenish her stock for the next day. The table likely blocks the reality of your interaction from her sight, and you imagine yourselves to be safe. You thrust slightly, and Rarity lets out a breath that fogs much of the glass up. Again you thrust, and again until she’s biting on her hair to avoid being heard. You reach a hand around to lift at her gigantic gut and drop the other one down to finger at her clit. She has to hold herself up, and she does an admirable job as you continue to plow her with an increasing frenzy. At last she tightens around you and you know she’s cumming already. Her hair drops out of her mouth and she twists her neck to catch your eyes.
“We’re so... so bad. Oh how I want to be caught. Let me shout at her, please let me shout at her?”
You slap her ass and she yelps loudly. In the store the mare’s figure shifts. You can tell she’s trying to see through the blanket of breath-fogged occlusion that frames her store’s window to see what’s going on, and she trots carefully around it. You re-angle the both of you to keep yourselves hidden and conitnue thrusting. Almost there... if you could just stop being distracted...
“Just let her see. Let her see, you... you have to. Trust me, you’ll enjoy it.”
Her tone’s different, somehow she’s broken through her pleasure to chance being serious. In between words she’s still moaning and breathing heavily, but you can tell she’s being sincere. As the mare moves to look around the cloud of breath you stand still, finishing your thrusting and watching for her blue face to appear. It does, and her eyes fly open wide as she catches sight of a pony’s face in the throes of pleasure. You feel it welling up, and a flood of hot semen fills your wife’s warm body. You coat every inch of her insides in it before drawing out, putting yourself away and zipping up hurriedly. You grab Rarity’s still moaning figure and drag her forward until she’s galloping alongside you with all speed back toward the hotel.

When you reach the doors she’s still panting and redfaced.
“She saw... did you see it in her eyes? She knew.”
The white unicorn drops onto her haunches and her hooves struggle and grope for her womanhood. Her face is glowing.
“She knew, she knew... I can’t reach! I can’t reach!”
You scoop her up to take her inside before anyone spots either of you... but it’s too much. You can’t catch your breath, and you groan before setting her back down quickly. She’s too heavy now to pick up like that... and she’s noticed you couldn’t do it. Like a spell finally broken, the dazed look leaves her eyes and she looks up at you, ears slowly lowering against her head.
“I’m too... you can’t do it anymore.”
Still trying to catch your breath, you say nothing. She forces a smile.
“Well, let’s go inside then, shall we?”
She takes to her hooves and trots inside quickly. You follow her into the warmer hotel lobby, up the stairs, and to the door of your room, wordlessly. Finally you try to apologize. She fails to look at you as she clicks the key into the lock magically and the door swings open on its own.
“It’s nothing. Baby’s been getting bigger, you know. Not long, now.”
Your attempt to enter the room behind her is halted by her still waiting figure. She’s looking at the floor. In the light spilling out of your bedroom and onto her face you can see her ears flatten once more and her eyes cinch shut.
“It’s nothing but...”

She grits her teeth and lifts her head, ears flicking back up happily, her frown replaced with a smile.

“No, it’s nothing. Come along, darling!”

You follow her into the room and the door clicks shut of its own accord behind you. The sound causes you to turn, and when you look back she’s quickly shimmying out of her dress. The straps are down and it hangs freely but for the zipper in the back. She bumps you with her bottom and smiles.

“Unzip me?”

You carefully unzip her, taking special care to run the other hand along behind the zipper, dragging it gently across her slowly baring back. She shivers as she steps out of it and your still travelling hand cups a handful of enormous haunch. You’re about to tell her she’s beautiful, that you love her, that you want to try to get her onto the bed, that you’re sorry. You don’t get past the first word before she’s rounded on you and is pushing you roughly against the door at your back. Her hooves undo your belt expertly and she’s got your pants down around your ankles before you can protest.

“It’s- it’s ok. Just give me it, I want it. Do you still want me?”

You manage to stammer out another apology over her sudden stroking of your member, but she shakes her head.

“It’s alright, I promise. I... Alright, I admit, I’m a bit.. Well who wouldn’t be? Since the day you carried me over the doorstep of our boutique, I’ve loved that you can do it. But every princess has to grow up someday... You’re willing to make concessions, step aside from your jealousy and take risks. It would be... utterly deplorable if I couldn’t agree to do the same.”

You stop her as she tries to get her mouth around your quickly thickening rod. She doesn’t have to do this, she doesn’t have to get bigger than she wants. You’re ok with her, thin or big. You’ve found both sexy. Just because one’s your fetish doesn’t mean that she has to do this. You tell her that if she wants, that can be the baseline. As long as you can still lift her, she can get bigger. When you can’t, it’s time to stop until you can again... and if you can’t go past a point, even this point, then that’s a perfectly fine place to stop. You like moving her around too. It’s romantic... and... enjoyable.

She looks up at you bewildered for a moment.

“You’re sure? That’s... that’s wonderful! Oh, that’s a perfect deal. But your poor arms... don’t strain yourself! Don’t get hurt. You’re completely sure? I know... I know you wanted that chance... an immobile pony... are you sure?”

It’s alright. Immobile is impossible, especially with a daughter arriving soon. It’s a pipe dream, a height of fantasy, just like you’d discussed. You feel her nuzzle against your hand with her muzzle and she looks up at you happily.

“Compromises and communication... oh... it’s perfect. Now I really am-”
In turning to embrace her, your erection slaps her face lightly. She halts her words to wrap her mouth around your still thick rod and closes her eyes, working her tongue over and over it. There’s a choking noise and one eye opens. She raises an eyebrow, and the licking ceases, followed by several, smaller, experimental licks. Finally she gags again and slips her mouth off your cock, looking at you and coughing.
“I-it’s... bluegh. Bluuuegh. It’s so... did you use my conditioner by chance, when you had your fun earlier?”
You nod.
“Did you wash it off?”
...Shit. No, you were in a hurry to clean up your mess and hide your shame.
“Well I’m sorry to say, it is just... it tastes of soap and my own... ‘flavors’. Those two things simply aren’t palatable together. Come now, let’s get you cleaned up properly. I want to give you a good one, so can you run us a nice hot bath?”
You step out of your shoes, pants, and boxers before heading into the bathroom. Out in the room you hear her tut-tutting as she folds them neatly and puts them into a drawer. Once in there you turn both taps on full, testing the water for warmth with your hand before plugging the drain. The tub’s fairly large, it should be able to accommodate you both if you squeeze in on either end. You can hear her whistling from the other room and she enters in a bath robe that looks a size too small. Her tummy bulges in bunched rolls from within it, and the cord keeping it shut is barely able to wrap around her fully. Its soft pink texture is welcomed by your wet hands, and she looks crossly at you for a moment before groaning.
“Don’t use me as a towel! How ungentlemanly. Here, I’ve brought your robe too, use it.”
She produces your own white robe and you unbutton your shirt and peel it off of yourself as the tub behind you fills. She hums your song from earlier in the evening as she picks up bottles in her mouth and pours several in until bubbles begin to rise. The room suddenly smells powerfully of blueberries and melon. She turns about to walk out of the room, apparently hearing something you don’t, and you slip into your robe, admiring the view of her curvaceous backside as she sashays into the bedroom. Each step sends shudders through the entire robe, and the back doesn’t quite cover enough to cover up her womanhood entirely. You fasten your robe around yourself and sit on the edge of the tub, barely able to catch an occasional word from her from the other room. You want to ask her who she’s talking to, but she returns to the room with a half a dozen plates of food.

Stacked on the plates are salads, sandwiches, pasta, and garlic bread. It all looks appetizing, but there’s enough food here for two couples, easily. She plops down onto her haunches and begins to eat the pasta noodles happily. You check on the bath water’s temperature before shutting it off. It’s just right, and at this point, the combined masses of your bodies will raise the level the rest of the way. When you look back, the generous portions of pasta are all but gone and she’s batting her eyes at you.

“Well go on! You need to get that cleaned up and tasting nice, or I’ll not be able to have a proper dessert.”

She licks her lips as she gazes at the bulge in your robe and you ease it off and step into the bath. She’s quick to follow and sure enough, once both of you are down the water rises to the lip of the tub. Her hooves grope through the mountains of suds until they latch onto your boner. She starts to stroke it as a sandwich levitates over. In between bites she tries for conversation.

“It needs to be good and clean now. Goodness knows I can’t stomach the taste of soap. Needed a proper meal to get it out of my mouth and off of my tongue.”

By this point the sandwich is gone and she’s reclining onto her back in the water. Her stomach rises through water and bubble, almost entirely blocking her face from your vision. You stretch a foot out in the bath and try blindly to find her womanhood. You first make contact with her expansive posterior, and it’s many inches in every direction before you find the edges. She blushes as she lifts her stomach up a bit. Your foot finds it at last and you gently rub the folds of her labia under the bubbles, toes occasionally slipping into her. On these occasions she moans and wiggles under your touch, but you can’t penetrate deeply enough to result in any real body rocking pleasure.

You lean forward and lick at her stomach, pushing aside bubbles to get at it. Finally you manage it and smother her in kisses, gathering up tummy in your arms and kissing and licking every inch of it you can before releasing it and gathering up more. The whole time she giggles, but the giggles fade to soft sighs as you explore further and further down. Finally your fingers find the entrance to her love tunnel, and you rub gently at the outside of it. She’s been through a lot tonight, a proper massage is in order.

You rub small circles across the folds of her before slipping a single finger in and rubbing the inside of her slit. In front of you she whispers something. You can’t make it out, but you know her well enough to know what she’s begging for. She wants more than just one, but you’re not about to give it up that easily. You tell her so. She shakes her head feebly and spreads her back legs a bit more, asking for another finger again. Just one more, she promises. You look over at the plates of food and comment on what a shame it is to waste them. She shakes her head again and manages words.

“I’ll eat another. If I eat another, can I have them all?”

You rub her stomach encouragingly. Yes, that’ll do. A plate of food for a whole hand? You can fill her up while she’s filling herself up. You draw yourself out of her and tell her to go get it. She hooks her hooves on the edge of the tub and heaves. Water sloshes around and recedes from her body, but she slowly eases onto her back. With a pant and a gasp she tries again, but she still can’t rise. Finally her eyes open, and through the fading pleasure a small look of shock crosses her face. You ask her if she’s alright, and she shakes her head.
Is it the baby?
She shakes again.
“It’s... it’s silly. I can’t get up. I need to be able to get onto my side and then to my hooves. I have to roll over to get up. I can’t... I’m stuck. I simply can’t get to my hooves...”
You reach out, taking her by the forelegs to help her up, and start to pull her forward into an awkward sitting position. Her tummy gets in the way and she finally shakes her head and looks away sheepishly, sinking back into the water up to her neck as bathwater sloshes over the edge of the tub.
“This is... well, isn’t this something you wanted though?”
Sure it is, but not like this, not if it makes her uncomfortable.
“I... It’s alright. I trust you, you’ll fix this. Right now, why not have your fun?”
Really? This could be a serious problem.
“It’s not any more serious now or one salad from now, honestly. Must you always think about me and never about your own wants? Come now, this is perfect. If you need to call a servicecolt for help then one more salad and a little fun first won’t make a difference. And if you can get me out of it on my own, we’ll kick ourselves if you don’t have fun first.”
You look at her skeptically, but she wraps a hoof around your quickly swelling cock and starts to tug playfully.
“Besides, I did promise, didn’t I?”
You must be dreaming. How is it that she’s not freaking out over her lack of control in this situation? You gently halt her hoof’s progress, drawing a glance of unmasked impatience as she looks up at you. Fear and irritation are etched in her face, but when her voice comes out it’s strong and confident.
“Oh come now! I’m scared, but I trust you! Isn’t that enough right now?”
You swallow, not sure you want to be trusted, and lean down to kiss her. She keeps stroking and slips her tongue immediately into your mouth. She’s desperate to put you into the mood it seems, and her tongue rubs furiously at the roof of your mouth and the back of your teeth. She knows how to pull you in, and you firmly push at her tongue with your own, finding your heart and fighting back against the sudden invasion. Finally you work her tongue back into her mouth and yours in behind it, lapping eagerly at the taste of her sandwich, still fresh in her mouth. She’s got you hard now, and it won’t be long at the rate she’s furiously pumping before she gets the better of you. You wrench her hoof off and break the kiss.
“Feed me?”
You step out of the bath, trailing water and suds everywhere, hurriedly snatching up the plate of her favorite salad and pouring the entire cup of sweet ranch dressing onto it. Hastily, you scoop it up a forkful at a time and feed it to her. At first her bites are conservative and dainty, but as you force more and more in she becomes greedier. Finally she snatches the plate out of your hands and begins to eat directly off of it, motioning with her free hoof to get the next one. You pick up the bread and she wolfs it down, using it to mop up every drop of precious, fattening ranch dressing. Setting aside her empty salad plate she motions again, finishing with the bread in minutes and rubbing her tummy. She looks at you, eyes wide. You’re in the process of picking up the next plate when you hear it.
It’s a soft whimper, and it turns your head. She’s got her mouth open, tongue hanging out, whimpering and rubbing her stomach with both hooves.
“More... oh please, more?”
The pleading in her voice... the desperation. Is she really acting? If so, she’s incredible. Perhaps she’s truly taken by the moment, but you don’t stop to ponder it further. She has two more plates of food to go, and you hand her one laden with fruits and whipped cream. The sliced fruits are shoveled in by the hoof-ful, and the whipped cream she pauses to inspect before setting aside, perhaps not to her tastes. Lastly comes a plate of apple and carrot slices, and these you give her by the handful. She barely swallows as she manages them, but toward the end she begins to struggle at last. Her hooves massage at the swelling mountain that’s settled over her body, floating slightly in the water. By this point the temperature around her is lukewarm at best, and the bubbles have all but gone. She winces as you hand her another apple slice.
“It’s... it’s a lot.”
You tell her she’s doing great... not much more. She has to push it past what she’s comfortable with, or she’ll never really gain. Just a bit bigger, you promise you’ll lift her out.
“Bigger? For you, I can be bigger. You’ll take care of me.”
Steeled and determined, she swallows the last of the slices and lays back, panting. You reach around her back to let the water out, and she grasps your erection with her hoof. You feel a cold sensation and look down as she spreads the whipped cream over you before taking the shaft all the way up to the balls into her mouth and down her throat. She moans around it and the vibration of her throat is wild. Her tongue works around the pole as she withdraws from it, gathering the last of the cream and smacking her lips as she swallows.
“Dessert?”
You begin to pump your thickness in your hand, overcome by her quick and willing descent into your most desperate dreamworld. She pulls your hand off with much effort and begins to bob her muzzle up and down on it, working her tongue and throat expertly to bring you to climax. Finally you find release in hot sticky shots. She holds her tongue out for them, but your sudden burst of cum fires across her face and all around the insides of her open mouth. She smacks her lips and licks with her tongue until the last of it is in her mouth before sticking her tongue out to present the collected load. Then she gulps it down and smiles up at you. Then it’s over, and she lays back in the tub contented, rubbing her sore abdomen.
Now comes the hard part. You dry yourself off just to be extra careful, making sure there’s no slickness on the floor. Where she lies panting and swollen you stoop down and lift her, being sure to do most of the rising with your legs. Steadily you gain ground, gritting your teeth and grunting in determination. She rises from her sunken position among the remainder of your suds and bathwater dripping wet. Immediately she hooks her hooves around your neck.
“Don’t drop us! It’s too much for you, set me down before you hurt us all!”
You take a few confident steps out of the room. It’s hard, but you manage to get around the corner and into the bedroom before you have to pause with a groan. Now her voice has settled and it comes out in soft, convincing tones.
“Alright, alright. You’ve proven yourself. I’ll keep going. Please... just set me down?”
You step forward again, and again. Only a few more feet. Your arms ache with the burden but you force yourself to go slowly until you reach the bed. There you manage to do an awkward set-down, dropping her only a few inches off the bed. She lands on it with a creak of bedsprings and looks up at you bewildered.
“You... all the way in here?”
You were tired before, from running. It was nothing. You told her so. You wince as your back protests straightening up, but you hide it with an awkward wink and a grin. She holds her forelegs out, invitingly.
“Ohhh... Don’t think I believe that for a second.”
It’s true, you tell her. You ease into bed beside her, and she wraps herself around you. You embrace her gratefully, smoothing her messy mane out of her eyes.
“Alright then, I won’t argue with you... It’s getting late, and I need drying off before we fall asleep.”
You click off the lights and help her to roll on top of you.

***

It’s smokey. All the walls around you are iron clad, you’re racing forward, but no sound reaches your ears. In the dark light of your cabin you cough and look around. The walls are ugly and teal, and a sense of urgency fills you. You must find Rarity. You step out of the train room and into the long dark of the hallway. Behind you, a door opens. Through it you can see a bed, your bed, the hotel bed. Stretched out on crimson sheets amid a soft pink room... She’s in there, giving birth. Twilight and Dash lick lustfully at the sides of her face, and she screams with the effort. All of the hallway rocks and echos with the sound of her birth pains, and she’s fully weeping as she tells you to fetch the pliers from coach. You turn back, and the walls around you are red. The stale air of the cabins around you is replaced by smoke. You’re moving quickly down the corridor now. Where is the train going? Why won’t she let you...
There’s a sound of thundering hooves behind you. You pick up your pace, breaking into a brisk jog. The hoof-falls are getting louder. You’re running now, past rows of open doors. Some open as you pass, and you catch a flicker of red. Beside you Twilight catches up, but it isn’t her hooves you hear. She looks up at you, and you stoop down to pick her up and carry her. She’s small in your arms, no bigger than a foal. You trip and fall, and the ground swallows her. There’s a giggle, and you swallow your loss and burst forward. Out of a nearby compartment, bear traps are thrown onto the floor. You leap them awkwardly and hope they’ll slow your pursuer, but the hoofbeats only increase in speed. You don’t dare look back, another door ahead of you on the left slides open and smoke pours out. The train is stopped, and a door to your right vanishes. You take the remaining distance to it with all speed, hoping the passenger of the left cabin is slow to move.

On the train platform the hoofbeats behind you slow to a steady walk. You’re outrunning it, not far now. Out of the corner of your eye, more red. You gulp back fear and cut left, into a hallway. There’s a bathroom ahead. Behind you the steps are getting louder, slow though they are. You burst in through the door of the mare’s restroom and into one of the stalls. The green tiled floor is slick with water, and the walls around you are molded and rust covered. There are urinals, and they’re overflowing with water, covering the floors. It’s disgusting, but you step up onto the ill serviced commode seat of your haven and try to hide the visibility of your legs from the outside. You fumble with the lock as you hear a click. Someone’s trying to get in. Around you, lights flicker and dim in protest, playing shadows across the room. You realize you can’t hide yours. The door clicks again. You pray it won’t find you, but there’s a splish as it steps through what was ankle deep water. Another splish, and another. It’s approaching the stalls. You tense, readying your body. Nowhere to go, if it comes...
Slap.
Smack.
Slap.
Smack.
It’s out of the water now, and walking across the shallow wetness. Finally, wet limbs find dry floor, and it claps toward you.
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
It’s reached the edge. You hear a giggle. A hand reaches under the gap of the stall door, groping about for you. You recoil, trying desperately not to breathe. Does it know? How can it know? Slowly, a dark black mane the spitting image of your wife’s creeps under the door. The head turns fully, and eyes blazing coals of fire framed in a blood red coat look up at you. She wiggles under, four awkward foal legs ending in hands, and stretches one out as her neck and head right themselves to proper angles. All the while she mouths words she can’t yet speak, and the hand continues to grope upward as she approaches. She shouldn’t touch you... she can’t... she musn’t... The hand grows closer as she silently repeats her phantom word. “Daddy. Daddy. Daddy.” The hand grasps your ankle.

You snap awake in a cold sweat with a muffled yelp. Next to you, Rarity stirs at the sound. In the dark her immense and blanketted shape shifts like a rolling hill. Your eyes sting as they try to focus on her suddenly visible face.
“R’you alright?”
You recoil a bit as her hoof stretches out and she straightens up a bit, eyes searching over you. Finding nothing apparently wrong, she shakes her head.
“Something scare you? Bad dream?”
You nod finally. Worst dream. Worst dream ever.
“Wanna talk about it? Tomorrow? In the morning? Over a nice breakfast?”
She looks over at the glow of your clock and you follow her glance. It’s roughly four thirty. She sighs and sits up, looking at you.
“Would you like to...”
She yawns.
“Talk about it now, then?”
It’s your daughter. Quickly you explain the conversation you had with the inventor stallion and you go over your dream. When you’re finished you look at the roundness of her stomach apprehensively. You feel her tail slap at your face.
“Don’t look at your daughter like that. She’s going to be perfect.”
What if she’s not? What if she’s like she was in your dream?
“I said she’d be perfect, not that she’d look like everypony else. You’re special, and so is she. What’s wrong if she looks like that? Wouldn’t you love her all the same?”
Of course... You’ll love her no matter what. You just worry the other foals won’t be as kind, that she’ll always be an outcast.
The light clicks on and your eyes blur in protest. When they finally focus Rarity’s angry face fills your vision.
“Is that how you feel? Do you feel like an outcast, just because you’re not like everyone else? Why, I think of myself as blessed. I’m married to someone one of a kind in every way. Anypony who doesn’t think the same of her-”
It’s not that simple, and Rarity should know it. Foals aren’t that kind.
“And what do you propose we do? Was having a daughter a mistake, then? Is she a mistake?”
No, of course not.
Your mind is slowly clearing, the terror of the dream fading. She’s nothing to be afraid of, and somewhere you’ve mixed fear of her and fear for her up. You admit it to Rarity and her face softens at your plainly guilty tone.
“Now now. Everypony has dreams. Even you. What does that abysmal inventor know? Ours will be the finest family in Equestria. Do you know what I think? I think you should talk to your daughter if you’re so concerned.”
She smiles and pulls aside the sheets, motioning a hoof at her stomach. You raise an eyebrow at her, and she narrows her eyes in response. Her voice comes out frighteningly edged.
“Speak. To. Your. Daughter.”
You lean down and put your ear to her stomach. You’re not sure what to say at this point... Hello?
Rarity sighs and runs a hoof across her stomach.
“Precious little dear. Were you sleeping too? Don’t you want to say hi to daddy? Just a bit?”
Perhaps it’s your imagination, but you feel a small shift.
“Daddy’s worried for you. Isn’t that wonderful though? I can tell he cares, he cares so much... He’s worried for you, I know he is. But he shouldn’t be afraid, and neither should you. He’ll be a wonderful father. The perfect father. I know he will be.”
You lift your head slightly from her stomach and she narrows her eyes at you again. You quickly nestle your head back against it and pose your question from there, awkward position be damned. What makes her so sure?
“Because of tonight. I always knew, but tonight... oh, the man I met and even the man I married was so afraid of speaking up about his feelings. I didn’t want to say anything of course, I know how you don’t care much for it, but look how far you’ve come. Why when I started showing, you barely said a word. Now you’re asking me to dance in front of crowds, talking out your deepest fantasies, telling me about all your fears. That’s a truly great father and husband. I know you’ll do... anything for us. And you’re not afraid to admit you can’t do it all alone.”
You blush, not sure if you care for the last admission. Is she right? Do you communicate more? Perhaps. You don’t think you’re as helpless as all that, though. You rub the swell of her tummy and smile at her all the same, determined to put her faith in you to good use. The words are quiet, words only fit for your own ears, perhaps.
Mommy’s praises are kind of course, but she’s not talking about herself at all... Your precious daughter will always be well taken care of. Her mother thinks, analyzes, sees things you can’t. She’s the most generous pony you’ve ever met, easily the most loving, and one of the most brilliant ponies in the world hands down. You’ve seen her ready to give everything for her family. She’s perfect. She’s lovely. She’s beautiful, and you know any daughter of hers will inherit every ounce of that beauty, intelligence, and generosity.
Your mind stretches back to the afternoon you spoke of, of seeing her dimly through fading consciousness as she paddled through mud and storm to pull you above the water and keep you both alive. She was so brave. You whisper it before sliding up her body and laying a soft kiss on her lips. She’s blushing, and whether she could hear your words or not feels irrelevant. The lamplight keeps half of her face in shadow, and you move one hand to turn it gently so that you can see both sides lit in full. Leaning in, you kiss at her cheek. You tell her how lovely she looks in the light, your hand still rubbing her side.
There’s a gentle kick back at your other hand. Whether hoof or hand or foot you can’t tell, but you don’t care as much now. You hug Rarity to you and kiss her forehead gently, snuggling your body up against hers. She turns her head ever so slightly and meets your lips with hers gratefully. It’s a tender brush of lips, a softly lit room, the closeness of her lavender scented mane filling your nose. Her face and coat, soft beneath your hands. Her breathing, quiet and steady to your ears. Her lips, a soft aftertaste of rose chap-stick. Everything so peaceful, so confident, so secure. You let yourself draw in every aspect of her for just a moment. Another kiss and you run your fingers through her mane. Her hoof runs slowly up your arm, stopping at the shoulder. She nudges gently where the joint is, knowing the spot to be tender. You shiver a little and scratch at her ear, prompting her to nuzzle her face into your open palm.
She sighs a contented “perfect” aloud and the hoof that was on your shoulder slides down to meet and hold your hand. You gently wrap your fingers around it, giving her a kind and affectionate squeeze. She shifts herself slightly, and clicks off the lights with a contented sigh.
“Are you ready to stop being silly and go to bed with the both of us, too?”
It depends on if you keep having wild and crazy dreams.
She blows a raspberry quietly and playfully at your side, moving your hand up a bit with her hoof.
“Pbbt. Excuses. Here, put your hand right there on my stomach. Just for a moment.”
You keep it there for more than a moment, waiting expectantly. Will there be a kick? Can she know that? Time trickles by as your eyes adjust to the returned darkness, and you look at her curiously. Whole minutes have passed by now. Her breathing has steadied, and you realize she’s fallen asleep, your hand still on her stomach. You chuckle and cuddle a bit closer, closing your eyes. With an effort, you drive out the frightening behavior of the blood red foal with images of your wife and newborn daughter. You’re pushing her on a swing... the light of a bright and warm afternoon cascades over you, and your child laughs happily as she goes higher and higher. She doesn’t have to be afraid, she’s safe. Daddy won’t let her fall.
You manage a happy smile and let yourself drift off to sleep. Tomorrow you’ll wake up and feel better. You’ll sell gems and clothes and jewelry, and then come home the next day to prepare for the baby’s arrival. No matter what... she’ll have you both. You imagine snuggling her between you two, and your hand rubs at the space Rarity’s stomach currently occupies. Soon, she’ll be here soon. You relax and drift off to sleep; a dreamless and deep sleep.

When you wake up, Rarity’s side of the bed is empty. The sun’s streaming into the window and it looks to be almost noon. You rub your eyes and snap out of bed. You’re late, and incredibly so. You hurry into boxers and jeans, tripping and falling in the process and taking the end table and a pile of dirty dishes to the floor with you. You call out for your wife, but no reply is forthcoming. You pull on a shirt and hurry into the bathroom to brush your teeth. The clock in your bedroom reads twelve thirty seven. You grit your teeth and brush furiously and quickly before stumbling out, hair unkempt and shoes missing. You’re halfway down the stairs before you realize it, but you shrug that discomfort off. Ponies don’t even wear clothes, your lack of shoes won’t be a problem unless you go outside. You have to hope Rarity’s at the booth already.
The fact that she let you sleep in doesn’t sit well with you. You’re supposed to work together as a team, and she shouldn’t be cutting you slack over a silly dream. The nightmare feels a million miles away as you take the stairs four at a time, bounding into the lobby and slowing to catch your breath. She’d tell you to present yourself well infront of everyone if she were with you, and you slow to a walk as you approach your booth. You desperately have to hope she’s there, although if she isn’t you’ve got bigger problems than losing business opportunities. Your fears are put to rest as you approach and see her graciously accepting a bagful of bits and levitating a wide variety of clothes into a wealthy looking mare’s saddlebag. From the looks of the fast emptying table, business is going well.
You reach the table and slide through the small gap allowing you into the booth. She kisses you goodmorning and grins up at you, voice bursting with the excitement of a perfect morning.
“Isn’t it wonderful darling? Oh, they simply adore our things! I’ve sold entire hooffuls of jewelry today, for prices you wouldn’t believe. Why, that mare there told me she simply couldn’t offer us just the paltry sum we were asking... she gave me three hundred bits for the collection! Isn’t that so strikingly generous?”
You smile and rub her ear. Why didn’t she wake you up?
“Oh you were sleeping so peacefully... I simply couldn’t. You looked so happy! I thought maybe you were dreaming sweet things for once.”
You were afraid she’d done it for that reason. You sigh. You’re supposed to be a team.
“And what sort of team would we be if I’d woken you grumpy and grouchy? It’s been just fine. Did you bring lunch as I asked?”
What? What’s she talking about?
“The note dear, the note! I left you a note on the bedside table, you simply must be more observant.”
Your drifting consideration of the capsized nightstand is interrupted without warning. There’s a clearing of a throat and a well-to-do stallion asks about your enterprise. Rarity cheerfully explains it to him, handing him a business card and showing him some of your finer wares. He picks up one of the bracelets you’ve made and eyes it, obviously impressed. After paying high compliments he asks for prices of commissioned work, and you’re almost positive you see Rarity’s eyes bulge before she shoots you an inquisitive look. How much would you charge for commissioned jewelry?
Caught off guard, you ask for specifics to buy time. He elaborates, and you mentally tally material costs and the cost of labor before giving him a reply that you feel is rather generous all things considered. He ponders for a moment before taking the card from where Rarity still offers it and nodding. It sounds a fair price, and he’ll be glad to contact you as soon as possible. Once he disappears Rarity turns back and suppresses a squeal of delight by hugging you.
“It’s been like this all day! We’re easily the most popular booth in our section... we’ve been getting more business than some of the front row booths, it’s quite amazing! And all such classed customers. And just about everypony’s asked about you. Now, as I was saying... lunch! Yes, lunch!”
Your stomach gurgles in agreement.
“There, you see? It’s almost time for lunch break at any rate. If we’re to last until the evening, we simply must have something to eat between now and then.”
“Y’all goin fer lunch then eh? Got anyplace in mind?”
Rarity looks at you awkwardly as the voice from the booth next to you drifts over. The inventor pony from last night sticks his head over the booth walls separating the two of you and winks at you.
“Glad ta see ye up an’ about. Was startin’ ta think ye wouldn’ make it here. Got somethin’ ta show you. Maybe after ye’re back from lunch, eh?”
You give him your most friendly grin as he winds some sort of odd propeller attached to the end of a long and slender tube. He throws you another wink and lets it go, watching it rise into the air and rotate there. Beside you, Rarity’s eyes widen.
“Oh how marvelous!”
It drops to the ground beside you, momentum spent after a few moments, and you look at it.
“Aw shoot, meant to go longer. Mind gettin’ that fer me friend?”
You scoop it up and hand it to him and he appraises your hand for a moment.
“Now that’s a pretty pair of thingies you got there.”
He takes one in his hooves before you can protest and unfolds it, studying the joints, eyes barely inches from your palm. Beside you, Rarity giggles. She nudges you with her horn.
“Oh don’t be so stiff. Let him see. He’s obviously quite sharp.”
You sigh and flex and unflex your hand for him study before drawing it back and shoving both deep into your pockets. He blushes and then shrugs.
“Aw well. You two have a fun time at tha’ lunch, ya hear?”
You shrug and force your hands further into your pockets, following Rarity out of your both and across the show room floor to the lobby. The moment you’re out there, she’s probing you. There’s a swish of a door and you’re in bright warm sunlight, walking up the streets of Canterlot.
“Oh come now. Honestly, did you have to be so rude? Business has been rather slow for that poor fellow, and we’ve just been so fortunate.”
You change the topic. She said people had been asking for you?
“O-oh yes... yes, well. You were the popular topic at the ball last night.”
Have they been buying just in the hopes of seeing you again?
“Well... no. Yes.” Her voice drops to a murmer. “You’re normal, alright? It’s ok. Nopony thinks otherwise. They’re just curious.”
You shrug. If it makes them buy things, who cares why they want it? More money for your family. That’s just fine.
“Well- Oh look darling! A sandwich shop! Come now, let’s get lunch, I want lunch there!”
She grips your arm with her hoof, pulling you suddenly into a swinging open door and practically barreling over a pony who is in the process of exiting on her way in. She apologizes profusely before hurrying inside, her face a mass of bright crimson. Once there she settles into a table, sinking low and watching the pony she almost knocked over walk away.
“S-so he seemed interested in those hands of yours. The inventorcolt that is. Suppose he comes up with something clever with it, wouldn’t that be marvelous?”
You shrug as you sit down, waiting for the waitstaff to get to you both. Your stomach growls again, and you ask her what she’s in the mood for. She seems to have forgotten why she came in, and scrunches up her face at the question before hurriedly picking up the menu and picking something random.
“This looks nice!”
You remind her that she doesn’t like tuna fish and she blushes again and looks back down.
“Yes, right of course. How silly of me, I seem to have forgotten... how about this?”
She had something like it last night, but she seemed to enjoy it.
“Oh, right... ah... Mmm. Craving pickles now that I think about it.”
You shrug at the cliche and close your menu, finally settling on asking her why she’s so nervous.
“No reason, no reason at all! Just... oh, relax wouldn’t you? You seem so irate with me, have I upset you terribly by not getting you up on time?”
You sigh. She promised you’d be partners in this, but you’re over it now. You know how she has a tendency to want to control these situations. As the waiter approaches you place your orders, but once she makes hers you change your mind and get the same thing. The stallion nods and walks off wordlessly. Together you sip your water and she taps her hoof on the table.
“So the sales are going well.”
The break in the silence is painful and you try your best to be engaged, nodding at her to continue.
“I... I’m sorry, alright?”
You take her hoof and smile at her. Was that so hard? She grumbles and looks away.
“Not as hard as my hoof’s going to be upside your-”
You squeeze her hoof reassuringly and she looks down at your hand.
“I imagine he could make something nice with it. Suppose he makes an automatic egg cracker?”
Who?
“The inventorcolt, of course.”
Ah. You’re not sure, you relate the bear trap contraption of last night to her and admit you don’t think he seems like much of an inventor to you.
“Bear traps? Now, didn’t you mention something about that in your dream last night? Goodness, you really should give me all the details on it.”

Well... And so you begin, giving as many details as you can, finally admitting that you suspected the link between the two and aren’t fond of the inventorcolt as a result.

“Oh but it’s not his fault... but I know what you mean, of course. Sometimes when I have nightmares I don’t want to interact with something that was in it and I’m quite nervous and- Wait. Is that why you’re being so difficult with me? Do I remind you of me in the dream? Do you think it means that? Well... I don’t. Do you want to know what I think it all means?”

You bite back a plea for her not to analyze you right now and settle for shrugging.

“You’re closing up on me again.”

How could she possibly get that from the dream?

“No, I mean you’re not talking to me. You’re shrugging again. We communicated so well last night, don’t shut down on me. Please? If you don’t want my opinion, I shan’t give it, but you must tell me. Don’t sit there getting more and more upset until you’re simply sick of me.”

You sigh. Yes, it’s sort of irritating that she wants to pick you apart. To be honest, you can think of a lot of things that the dream might have meant, but it’s in the past. You won’t duck her or your daughter as a result of it, but you’re not going to just up and be amazed by some wild inventor’s linked bear-traps and flying tubes. He’s not worth getting over the awkwardness for. Across the table, she smiles.

“There now, was that so hard?”

Not as hard as your hand’s going to be upside her-
She cuts in, voice icy.

“Oh, I see what you’ve done there. Clever. Quite clever. If that sentence doesn’t end with ‘perfect posterior’ than you can kiss every pound goodbye.”

You laugh and squeeze her hoof, leaning across the table and offering her a quick kiss. Food comes quickly and you look at your sandwich before watching her tuck into hers, easily putting away half of it before you’re even three bites in. You slide her yours and smile. She looks from it to you.

“Eat your lunch.”

You shake your head. She needs it more, she has a growing foal inside her.

“That foal has done plenty of growing. Eat your lunch.”

Nope.

Your stomach cuts in, growling.

“Good heavens that was loud. When was your last meal?”

Well... it wasn’t before the ball, and you didn’t have any icecream. All the dinner went to her in the bathtub, and there were no meals on the train so... breakfast, yesterday?

Her eyes widen and she suddenly slides the last half of her sandwich to you.

“You eat both of these right now or... or... or I’ll keep sex from you for a month. I’ll do it, too. Eat your food. You’re a fool. How are you going to pick me up if you waste away on me?”

With a sigh of defeat you polish off your sandwich, filling up quickly. You slide her half back.

“Full already? Welcome to my world, mister. It’s high time I saw what all the fuss was about, at any rate. Eat it.”

You sigh and groan, wishing she’d be less stubborn as you plod through the sandwich. By the time you’re done with the other six inches of sub you can feel your body stretched and tired. She smiles at you and leaves the appropriate number of bits on the table, rising to exit.

“Come along, darling!”

You rise with difficulty, holding back a burp you’re sure would be accompanied by food. You groan again, asking her why she’s so cruel to you. She swats you playfully with her tail.

“It’s not as easy on the receiving end, is it? Remember that tonight when you want me to go through that last plate of apples. Maybe this time you’ll have a single plate for yourself, hmm?”

You’re fairly sure you’re never going to have another plate for yourself again as long as you live. She assures you that you’re being overly dramatic and that you’ll live, holding the door open for you magically as you enter the cool air of the hotel lobby once more.

“Look at this. Your manners are slipping.”

You hunch slightly, sure you’re going to be sick, sweating slightly, and shoot her a look. Now isn’t the time for this sort of prodding.

“Are you... are you really going to be ok?”

You straighten up and try to let some of the tension out of your body. You’ll probably be alright. It’s just a bit of a stomach ache. Together you make your way back into the dealer’s room and down the rows.

At first glance it seems that your booth is being mobbed by curious mares and stallions, but as your stride brings you closer, you can see that they’ve actually surrounded the neighboring stand. Rarity looks happily up at you.

“There, you see? I knew he could be popular, never fear. I bet everypony wants one of those wonderful flying things. Right as usual!”

You let her have her small victory as you approach, too focused on keeping down lunch until it’s a bit more digested. You duck into your booth and grab a bottle of water, gulping at it eagerly to help the food in your swollen abdomen settle. Task complete, you sigh. Your stomach’s still fit to burst, but at least you don’t feel sick anymore. You wait to tell her the good news. When Rarity doesn’t reappear in the booth after a few minutes you dive into the throng around your neighbor to look for her.

The crowd is much bigger than you’d expected. It’s packed with mares and colts from all walks of life and all areas, conversing in a wide mixture of accents and speech patterns. You finally spot the enormous mass of your heavily pregnant wife at the very front of the booth. Approaching behind her, you gently set your hand on her head and look at what she’s looking at; what the inventor stallion is proudly displaying that has all the attention.

It’s a to-scale silver mockup of your hand. He winds it once more and it flexes its fingers and twists at the wrist. Rarity looks at it captivated, broken from her spell by your sudden touch. Her gaze lingers especially long on the genuine article now resting on her back before shifting to the almost exact duplicate proudly pulling itself across the table by the fingers. She bites her lip before finally stammering out over the crowd. By now ponies around you have spotted the inspiration for it, and they’re pulling and tugging at your spare hand. You slip it back into your pocket as politely as possible, excusing yourself from their grips.

“It’s... it’s quite lovely. You’re quite the talented inventor, sir. Did you manage all of this from only a few looks?”

The inventercolt nods and produces an opposite hand, not yet masked in the smooth silver casing. It’s quite complex, and it looks fully capable of doing many of the things yours can. He proudly demonstrates as it crumples some paper before a flip of a switch extends the fingers and wiggles them. Some “Ooos” escape the crowd of gathered equines and you shift uncomfortably. Rarity speaks for you.

“So what does it do?”

“Do, Ma’am? Why, it does exactly what it were designed to.”

“I’m sorry? Is it... Oh! Is it an automated egg cracker?”

Some laughter from the crowd, and the inventercolt looks around a bit nervously.

“Well, I ‘spect ye could say so, in a manner of speakin’..”

More laughter now, you feel her shrink at your side.

“I’m...I’m sorry?”

He points to his flank, where the proud cutie-mark of what looks to be a large rubber dildo resides.

“I-wait, you’re no inventor... Oh my. Oh my GOODNESS. Well, this is... this is simply criminal! You’ve no right to those! Give them back!”

You feel her coil next to you, and you’re sure she’s about to spring over the booth.

“Right? Don’t see nopony’s name on them. Sorry, but everypony’s wantin’ one.”

“No... No!”

She wheels around on the crowd, seething. “You can’t have those! They’re not yours! None of you can... No!”

She storms out of the crowd, leaving every pony present stunned into silence. The sex-toy salescolt tosses his pitch and price out once more, but ponies begin to disperse with guilty looks on their faces. Finally only a few more bold ones make offers. You catch a glimpse of Rarity fleeing the dealer’s room in tears and you’re torn. You need to stay with the booth. You need to, but... You have to follow her, don’t you?

You turn to the salescolt and level with him.

“Hey there. Gotta thankye for these, they’re-”

You pick one up and look at it, not bothering to ask his permission. It clenches down on your finger and you stifle a cry. They’re strong, they grip like vices. You drop it unceremoniously back down on the table, not caring for a moment if it breaks.

“Oi, steady there lad! Ye’re not impressing any-”

You stop him mid sentence as you loom over him. Rarity’s sudden departure fills your mind, her tears and hurt... you’re not sure why she loves them so much barring the obvious, but your hands are hers. You ask him if he knows what those hands can do.

He shrinks back a bit, not used to this tactic. Rarely do ponies threaten each other seriously with physical harm.

“So what, gonna make me throw ‘em away?”

You shrug. He can if he has a conscience, but he’s not going to sell those while you’re standing right there. But he’s in luck. You’re closing up shop in an hour and a half. After that you don’t care what he does.

An half hour passes uneventfully, and each passing minute makes you wonder if you made the right choice. No ponies are coming around the booth after that scene, and all feel too guilty to look at you. For a brief moment you actually wish to be one of them. You wish you were normal. The feeling tightens in your stomach. She’d be happier, right? Your foal wouldn’t be in danger, she wouldn’t be sad right now... she wouldn’t have to protect you and insist that you’re normal when you’re not. You close up shop suddenly and haul your trunk up the stairs to your room. Unable to get the door, you kick at it with your foot. She finally opens it, and you can tell she’s been crying.

“I... I’m sorry. I look such a sight. And I left you to all of that. Sorry.”

You drop the trunk and pull her into a hug. You’re the one who’s sorry. You’re sorry you have to be so different, and she has to constantly protect you. She’s a social loving pony, and you hold her back from that at things like these. She has to watch out for you so much. You feel her push back against you with her hooves and she glares up at you. You sigh, not wanting her to be mad. It’s true. You stoop to pick up the trunk. At the same time, she takes a swing with her hoof and connects with your stomach.

What happens next is too much for either of you. You can’t catch her to stop her. She’s not expecting you to stoop. As a result, the swing is much closer and hits harder than she meant to. You’re already hunched over. She connects solidly, and you feel your stomach tighten. Lunch rushes back up, and you feel yourself curl over after a sudden bout of burning acidic taste. Before she can duck out of the way she’s covered in the stuff, and you drop to your knees, clutching at your stomach and groaning. Your body rocks and more comes up. You feel your stomach twist. You can’t even manage out a whimper, but you look up at her. She’s covered in your half-digested lunch, and quivering. Her mouth opens and closes, and if she’s making words you can’t hear them through your own groans.

It’s been a long time since she hit that state of OCD panic, but you can see her, rigid, struggling to breathe, covered in the filth. You’re sure she’s going to shut down, black out, convulse. You want to get to her, but you feel your stomach tighten again and you have to choke back to avoid throwing up again. Suddenly there’s a warm hoof on your back, rubbing it. She’s pulling you to the bathroom and gets you situated over the bathtub. The hoof continues its soft massage. Words filter back in and you can hear her stuttering.

“Sorry-I’m so sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Oh don’t be mad, I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry, so sorry! Please?! Don’t be mad at me!”

You choke back and wipe your mouth, vision focusing on her again. She’s filthy, and she pauses from her back rubbing to wipe her face clean. It’s hit her back mostly, but your senses are coming back and she’s entirely coated in the stuff. Wordless still for fear of being sick you turn the tap on the shower and slump down in it. She unsteadily plods over and drops to her haunches next to you.

“I’m so sorry. Don’t be mad at yourself though. Be mad at me. Be mad at me, alright? I’m sorry. I should have admitted it sooner. I love your hands. I love how special they make me feel, and how I’m the only one who gets them... I... I didn’t want you to think I was selfish, but the truth is I’m so terribly selfish. I don’t want anypony to have that one of a kind body of yours. It’s supposed to be just mine.”

You shush her. You’ve had enough intimate revelations between each other in the last few days. This is the first one that doesn’t shock you. Honestly, you know it, and you’ve known it all along. She’s far too transparent in that respect. You direct the water onto her and help her wash her coat off.

“So you’ve really known forever?”

For a while, at least. She has an eye for special things. You might have started as a trophy, but you know you’re more than that now. You’re not that insecure.

She laughs at last.

“Well, at least that’s one of us.”

You pull her close and help her wash behind her ears. She closes her eyes as your hands nimbly wash in all the places she can’t reach, helping to clean and groom her in minutes when it would have taken nothing less than strong magic or hours of care to do it otherwise. Your fingers rub at the soft texture of her ears. They’re an interesting feel and makeup, soft but tight skin stretched over cartilage. You watch as they perk up, indicating her rising mood. You pull her head closer and start to nibble on her ear and you hear a sharp intake of breath from her. Gently you lick at the back of it, eliciting a small kick of her legs. You let your hands travel down her body to her hooves, where you gently rub at the shanks. She sinks back into your arms, reclining under the hot rain of water and letting it land on her tummy as she lays on her back and tilts her head desperately up toward your mouth.

You let out a hot breath into her soft velvety ear and she starts to rub your forearms with her hooves.

“A-are we going to be naughty?”

She’s finally gasping out words, settling during sentances for lolling her tongue out of her mouth and turning her head ever so slightly; trying blindly for your lips with her eyes closed amid all the splashing water. You act as though you’re going to oblige, bending forward and exhaling hot breath over her face teasingly before drawing back out of her blind reach. You lean in again, breath held, invisible to her, drawing up close to her ear before whispering your heaviest “maybe” in her ear. She snaps her head to and meets your lips with her own, immediately and hungrily working her tongue in. Hooves blindly grab your head and hold it in place so that you can’t escape and she works her tongue furiously, almost brushing your throat a number of times.

You slip your hands gently up to her flanks to massage the muscles and she moans under the touch. She breaks the kiss suddenly and pushes you back against the shower wall, appraising your rising erection.

“No. No, we’ll not be naughty just yet. Oh... why did he have to take them? Those are...”

She picks up your hands and licks at one greedily.

“They’re my favorite. My absolute favorite! Why does he have them now? Every slutty whore of a mare in all of Equestria will have one now! They’ll all know what I know, how amazing your hands are and how wonderful they are... but those hands can’t do the things yours can! Give me them. Give me them both!”

She shoves your left hand toward her privates and you can feel heat and wetness coming off of them that has nothing to do with the shower. You part those moistened folds gently with one hand, slipping two fingers in with the other. She bites her lip.

“Nnnh... Do something those can’t. You’re mine, all mine!”

You withdraw your hand.

“What? NO! Give me them! I want them... please don’t tease me now.”

You scratch at her ear suddenly, rubbing shampoo into her coat with the other.

“What are you doing? I Wanted... I want...”

She wants something that those hands downstairs can’t do, right? They can do a lot, but they can’t be gentle.

“You’re right... you’re right! Oh silly stupid pony that I am, I forgot. You can be gentle when you want. Be gentle with me now?”

You nod and help her wash out the soap before scooping her up into a hug and drying yourselves off. Then with all your determination you lift her and carry her into your bedroom where the sunlight streams in from all sides. With all the care you can muster you set her down on her side and start gently to rub at her hooves.

“Nnnnhhhh... Feels good. Feels so good.”

You let your hands work over them slowly in circles. Are they sore?

“They’re always sore. I’ve gone up at least two shoe sizes and they’ve flattened with all the weight... it’s simply miserable... Nnnhhhaaaaaah!?”

Her voice is lost in a sudden cry as you caress the undersides: the tender spots where her hoof cups and the places where the harder parts of her hooves meet her legs. With all proper care you work them up toward her rear, rolling her easily onto her stomach. She stops, looking over her shoulder at you cautiously.

“Are you sure it’s safe?”

Yes, it should be. Lying on her stomach or back to sleep isn’t advised, but this short amount of time will do. It won’t be comfortable for long, but it’ll do. She sighs and nestles into the bed as you rub at her haunches. This is a rare angle, and you’ve never gotten to admire and examine just how much her butt swells when it meets her legs in this prone position. It’s enormous from her steady diet of large meals, and even the combined efforts of both hands can’t cup one cheek. She’s likely as wide back there as two ponies now. You watch the broad roll of her back slope downward as the curve of her stomach meets her chest and leaves her leaning into the bed. Her face is buried in a pillow as you continue your work; rubbing, kneading, pulling, pushing, squeezing, palming, cupping, pressing at her vast posterior. With each touch you watch as ripples of jiggling pony flesh quake and shake. Your manhood slaps attentively against your bellybutton and she moans as the massage continues. After several minutes she rolls over to face you.

“Taking your time back there... get distracted, darling?”

Her eyes finally settle on the sight of your boner and widen.

“My goodness, you are working hard to control yourself.”

You roll her back onto her stomach and slip your hands between her thighs, losing them in the milky mountains of fat and slipping a couple of fingers into her. She shifts and groans.

“Not so quick... I’ve an entire body to please.”

You withdraw and lick your fingers clean. She notices the gesture.

“Oh no... that can’t taste... don’t do that, it’s so dirty.”

You spread her legs and bury your head in between them, licking a line from her moist womanhood to the pucker of her ass. When your tongue reaches there she rolls out of reach and onto her back.

“Nnnnhhh. Stop that. You’re being filthy. Go back to massaging!”

You rub at her sides with your hands, coaxing her legs to spread a bit and allowing you back between them. She lifts her stomach as your tongue swirls about her clit, fingers slipping down to keep the folds of her labia and clitoral hood out of your way as you do your delicate work. She’s creaking the bed in only a few minutes, and with a final shudder that you’re sure you hear the frame cracking under, goes still with a great deal of panting.

Mission accomplished, you cautiously lick a line up her stomach, letting your hands work their magic on the swell of her belly as you reach her neck. This you nibble at, arms working to massage her shoulders and neck. Finally you reach her face, rubbing her ears and lapping at her lips until she spreads them eagerly. She lets you kiss her as you run your hands through her hair. It’s dried in her customary coiffure, but your rubbing at her scalp messes it greatly. She doesn’t offer a word of complaint, working her tongue across your teeth and breaking the kiss over and over again to come back for more. At last she rolls onto her side and wiggles up against you. The broadness of her bottom jiggles like pudding as she collides with your mostly prone figure.

You roll onto your own side and try to get an arm over her and onto the bed. It’s impossible, her stomach is enormous at this point. As a normal sized pony you could probably have locked hands around your opposing elbows in the embrace you’re trying to give her now. As things stand however, her back has broadened and the round balloon of her stomach makes it impossible even for your hands to meet each other. They grope for one another desperately, disappearing and cushioning into rolls of side fat as they miss each other by at least a half a foot. Her bottom’s not much better off, rising off the bed at least two feet broad, immense in her four foot long frame.

The sunlight glistens off her hair as she sighs contentedly. She wiggles her buttcheeks against your member and looks expectantly over her shoulder.

“Well? Aren’t you going to slide it in?”

All this talk of communication and she still won’t admit to what she wants?

“Wants? I got what I wanted... You’re wonderful. One of a kind. No stupid metal hands could be the equal of yours in strength or gentleness. You’re a true blessing, a miracle of whatever place you’re from, don’t you see? So go on then... you’ve treated me to the most special of experiences, I haven’t much to offer in return you know.”

She spreads her legs a bit and you look at the enormity of her ass. From where you’re laying, it looks like she has plenty to offer.

“Oh, that’s clever. Are you putting it in or not?”

Spooned up against her you work it blindly between her thighs until you feel the slight entrance between the lips of her privates. You slide in gently, angle too awkward really to thrust, and start to play with her hair.

“Not going to do anything?”

Nope. You snuggle into the warmth of her back, still firm inside her. As long as you can play with this stomach, that hardness won’t fade any time soon. She twists her head about, seeking your lips for a brief kiss. Meeting hers with yours almost forces you to pull out, and when you slide back in she sighs.

“Are you sure you won’t play just a bit?”

Is she going to admit she wants it?

“Yes... Yes I want it. Your hands are good for so much. I’m a naughty pony, and I didn’t tell you how much I wanted them. I want them. Give them to me, please won’t you?”

You slip out of her and slide in a finger in the place of it, gently working it in and out. All the while you’re whispering dirty things in her ear, coaxing her to cum with nothing but your ring finger.

She should cum sooner. She’ll get more fingers that way.

“I want... I want them both.”

She knows that’s dangerous. It’s too much to stretch that much. On the end of your hand she squirms and shouts.

“I want them both! I want them both!”

Maybe. You need to make sure it’s safe.

“Make Twilight tell you. She can... she can watch and make sure it’s safe!”

Twilight? You slip a second finger in. She wouldn’t just be trying to get Twilight involved, would she? She’d tell you, right?

“No... no of course not. I’d tell you.”

Good, because lying fat ponies don’t get three fingers.

“A-alright. I want her involved. I want her to at least watch! I want Dash too! Please?”

You slide another finger in, nibbling at her ear and whispering in it. What about your wants? Is she going to get both hands and both ponies?

“Nnnhhhh. You can do it however you want. I’ll stuff myself before. Maybe after too...”

You slide one finger out.

“During! You can stuff me while they watch. They’ll know I’m a no-good hopeless fat pony who needs... who needs your hands!”

You slide the third one back in and she rocks around you, finally climaxing. She lies there, panting. She’s soaking wet all over now, a pool of drool coats the pillow her head was resting on. You slide down next to her and spoon back up against her.

“You... were you just playing with me?”

Playing with her? Well, yes. You were knuckle deep in her, to be precise.

“You know what I mean! Did you mean it, about letting them join in?”

Now that it comes to it you bite your lip nervously. It could get out of hand but... Alright. You kiss her cheek. You’re willing to try. Beside you she giggles and cuddles up to you, head resting on your chest.

“Perfect. When we get back to ponyville then.”

Really? You were going to wait until after the foal...

“No. I want to try it before that. After a foal goes through things might get...”

Her voice drops and her ears flatten.

“Get... well, looser. And I want to manage them both while it’s still good and tight.”

You groan. It’s already going to be dangerous, you’re sure. Is it worth the risk, really?

“It’s not going to be a risk. You know how Twilight is. She’s smart, and knows things about... things. Why, I bet she’s been shank deep in Rainbow dash, and that pony doesn’t have small hoo-”

You interrupt her with a nervous cough, not sure you want to hear where that’s going.

“W-well anyway... I’m sure she can... Oh, I don’t know. We’ll see. We’ll see. She warned us all about your hands before... you remember? About accidentally forcing in air and the... and about being careful while doing things with your mouth. She knows things. I’m sure she’ll be able to help this time, too!”

You sigh. It seems like it could get awfully dangerous, but her heart’s set on it. You have to hope Twilight will know better than either of you. You kiss her horn and tell her so, and she smiles.

“I trust Twilight. I trust you, too. You won’t let anything happen to me. You’ll be careful, I know you will. You’ll put your hoof... foot... thing down. If it gets to be too dangerous.”

You nod. You’ll keep your head, you’re sure of it. She kisses your cheek and settles her head happily back on your stomach, mane splayed out in beautiful violet under her head and across your chest and shoulders. You kiss a lock of it, smelling the thick scent of lavender. Tomorrow you’ll hop on a train together and go home to Twilight and Dash, only a week away from your baby’s delivery date. Hopeful and happy you recline in the softness of the hotel bed and contemplate what you’ll order for her dinner. At your side she wiggles up to be even with you, putting in her own opinions on what was good. You both agree on more salad and ranch dressing. Gently you rub at her tummy and she kisses at your cheek. You happily talk about things gone by and things to come as evening quickly creeps through the window.

Dinner comes and goes, and she sits amid a pile of plates stacked two high each. She’s stuffed to barely moving at this point and you snuggle up against her and click the lights off. She kisses you goodnight as you climb in, humming your wedding song softly to her. You can feel her shift her weight until her back is to you once more. She clears her throat and wiggles her bottom against your spooned pelvis. Imperceptibly among the darkened room you feel her legs spread. You slip yourself out the front of your boxers, sliding into her. She’s well lubricated, still wet from where you rubbed her tummy post-dinner. She sighs happily as you manage inside her. Before long her breathing has gone steady and you kiss at her back and rest your head closer to hers. It doesn’t take much until your breath matches her pace and you have a rare moment of dim awareness at your slowly slipping consciousness. With fresh moonlight pouring in your hotel room window, lost in the abundance of her warmth, you fall asleep happy and secure.