A Spa Day Keeps The Troubles Away

Thursday morning comes with all the ceremony one might expect; that is to say the same as any other day of the week. The sun peeks through the windows and light spreads across the floor, making slow but steady pace towards the sleeping shape of Twilight Sparkle. Groping up the bed, the lecherous light shines on her feet, slowly making its way higher until-

BANG!

Twilight wakes with a terrified squeal, instinctively leaping out of bed and trying to make a break for the door. Of course, ‘instinctive’ for the Princess of Friendship means galloping about on all fours, and so as both her legs leave the ground, the rest of her body is all too willing to introduce itself to the floor. So it is that the first event which really registers for Twilight on this fine Thursday morning is of her breasts being squished between her chest and the floor, accompanied by a stinging sensation that stretches through the entirety of her face.

“Oooh,” the tender teen moans as she brings a hand to her face in an attempt to cover the sore spot. “At least I’m not bleeding.” She pushes herself up onto her knees, and then rocks back until her bottom is resting on her heels. The girl grunts as she gets up to a standing position and meanders over to the window.

Outside, as close to the property line as he can get as a matter of fact, is her neighbor: Mr. McColt. Or, as he insisted everyone call him, ‘Big Daddy’. Twilight’s lip curls a touch as she looks down at the unkempt man practically blowing steam out of his ears as he howls uselessly across the lawn with a large hammer tucked tight in his grip.

“Listen up you, Hooffields!” he venomously drawled. “You’d best keep your boys in line Ma; if I ever catch one of them trying to put the moves on one of my daughters again, you’re all gonna regret it!”

He stands there for a long moment, shoulders heaving, as if waiting for some kind of response. Twilight too realizes that she’s holding her breath, listening for the other family to fire back. After all, it would have a great deal of bearing on how the rest of her morning would go. Seconds pass, and the young woman heaves a sigh of relief, and then once more when she sees Big Daddy turn back towards his house. Allowing herself a smile, Twilight trots back towards her bed, spreads her arms wide, and starts to fall forward.

“Well now!” Twilight flinches as the new voice, Ma Hooffield’s, calls out before her body impacts the mattress. “It sounds to me like old Big Daddy is having a bit of trouble if he can’t keep his girls from falling for the old Hooffield charm!”

And Big Daddy doesn’t miss a beat. “Hooffield charm, my foot! Your boys couldn’t charm their way into a two-dollar woman’s bed!”

“Don’t you be talking about your girls that way, Big Daddy, you might embarrass them!”

As the heads of the two families continue to fire insults back and forth, over and over, Twilight groans and wraps a pillow around her ears. It doesn’t do anything to help, and so the girl is forced to half-listen to the constant drone of the pair’s argument until her alarm goes off.

Dragging herself out of bed, Twilight goes about her morning routine of getting ready to go to school. After taking care of her immediate needs, cleaning and drying herself, Twilight stands in the bathroom, her hair wrapped up tight in a towel, looking over the spread of product in front of her. Being a visitor from Equestria, Twilight had thought that she would have trouble when learning how to use the wide variety of make-ups in this world. However, she actually found it quite simple, as though her brain were on autopilot as she puts on the soft purple eye shadow and darker lip color. Then she moves onto eyeliner, mascara, and finishing it off with a bit of blush.

“Must be a side effect of the magic,” she mutters to herself, turning her head from side to side and pursing her lips at the mirror. One among many, it would appear, as the boobacious babe bounces out from the bathroom. The towel is quickly discarded and Twilight squeezes herself into her usual outfit, an ill-fitting button down top with a purple ribbon, and a skirt that wouldn’t pass the most lax of dress codes at any other school. But she makes sure to wear stockings at least, so that makes up for it, or something. Grabbing a brush, she makes her way to the kitchen, working the shiny strands to pull loose any tangles.

“Morning,” she says with a weary sigh as she sits down at the table. Still working her hair, she glances around and notices that her brother is absent this morning. Making another little sound, she places the brush aside and looks over to her mother and father. “Shiny’s out again?”

“I think he said something about spending the night with Cadence,” her slightly red-faced mother responds, taking a sip of water. “You know how those two can be; it’s like bunnies at spring time.”

“Nothing wrong with that. He comes by it honestly after all,” Night Light laughs, giving his wife a playful nudge before enjoying his eggs.

Twilight Velvet gasps in delight and smacks him with a gentle smile. “Maybe from you, stud; I’m a well behaved woman after all, right Twily?”

Twilight looks up from her plate and watches as her mother shifts about in her seat. Now it is unquestionably true that Twilight is a well built young woman, with abundant curves worth salivating over and a come-hither look that could win over just about anyone. But Velvet is an entirely different breed of slut. Taller than most anyone else in the entire city, she has thick, long, thick hair that always seems perfectly positioned, a voluptuous body that makes men and women stop and stare, and a bust that’s practically incomparable. Seriously, between Velvet’s height and her boobs, you’re all but guaranteed to get your head lost in her cleavage; Twilight would know, as it’s happened to her more than once.

“Yeah, Mommy, you are,” Twilight says to the squirming slut in the most unconvincing way she can manage. But Velvet puffs herself up all the same, all smiles and smug as she looks to her husband as if to say ‘I told you’.

“Oh, is that so?” Night Light quips back, their daughter momentarily forgotten while she quietly picks at her breakfast. “Well, I’ve got a little while before I have to be at the office, so why don’t we see just how well-behaved you can be!”

Velvet squeals and the table lurches a little as she bumps into it, sending the entire spread wobbling about and more than a couple pings and pangs as things clatter about. Twilight looks down at her now orange juice-soaked breakfast and sighs. Getting to her feet, she puts her dishes away and walks towards the door. She’s nearly out of the room when her mother’s voice reaches her ears. “Hold on, honey!”

Turning to look over her shoulder, Twilight feels her belly do a small flip as she catches sight of her mother again. Still in her ‘seat’ on the man’s lap, the super slut bounces eagerly on Night Light’s dick, grinding against the fat rod filling her every nook and cranny. The ‘well-behaved woman’ clenches around the love muscle that’s been inside her since before Twilight came downstairs, and offers her daughter a smile, mixed with a bit of her coming orgasm face. “H-H-Have a nice day! Be sure to be home before dark!”

“See you this evening, sweetie!” Night Light says, lifting his hand so that his daughter can see him around the mass of woman that’s currently hiding most of his body from view. “Don’t do anything your mother wouldn’t!”

“Ooh, don’t encourage her like that!” the panting Velvet squeals as her bouncing increases in intensity, causing the whole kitchen table now rattling about with each motion. Twilight simply shakes her head, grabs her things, and heads out the door. As she walks past the still bickering Hooffields and McColts, she does her best to quench the gentle burn of around between her thighs and focuses on going down the street towards Canterlot High.

It’s a little odd being out of what Twilight has begun referring to as ‘the loop’. The meaning is quite literal in this instance, as the magic which made her into a lusciously leggy, libidinous letch, also saw fit to keep her aware of most of the changes occurring in the world around her. Sure, she remembers the truth: that she’s actually a pony Princess from a magical land called Equestria, and that this world she’s presently in was once very plain, and very limited in the degree of sexuality that would be tolerated.

But she also remembers being the daughter of the absolutely stacked Twilight Velvet who was getting railed this morning. She even has an insatiable need to refer to the woman as ‘mommy’, thanks to a certain meddling principal. And that’s not the only thing that’s changed, she thinks to herself as she waves at one of the students approaching from another cross-street.

“Hey Twilight! It’s a good morning for a run, right?” Cloudy Kicks asks with a grin as she high steps next to the girl as they walk along.

“I suppose so,” the bimbo shrugs, checking out the pretty blonde thing with of the corner of her eye. Compared to Twilight’s friends and some of the other students, Cloudy isn’t very far along yet, but she’s showing signs of being affected just by going to school. Her warm-up jacket, usually zipped up nearly to her collarbone, is now comfortably resting in the middle of her bust. And a pleasing bust it is, cradled by what looks to be a white tube top, of decent enough size and shape to draw attention. Not quite staking up to Twilight’s own yet, but perhaps they might, eventually.

That thought makes the purple-haired girl grimace. By the time she catches herself, Cloudy Kicks has already turned her attention elsewhere. “Oh look, it’s Indy! I gotta talk with him about our lineup for Friendship Games; I’ll see you later!” she promises, quickly hurrying off towards the aforementioned member of the Drama-clique, Indigo Wreath. Who, if Twilight is being honest with herself, isn’t looking too bad himself these days, despite his still somewhat stiff style. Sure he’s as slim as ever, but so well defined, and not nearly as shy as showing it off anymore. And those bangs? Seriously cute.

Twilight walks past them, the pair talking amongst themselves in a rather animated fashion. And then Indigo places his hand on the small of Cloudy’s back, and the girl’s face melts into a giddy, almost airheaded expression of delight. Twilight’s belly quivers again, and she’s quick to focus her attention back on the school.

“If I get inside, everything will be fine,” she assures herself, pushing the doors open, ready to greet the day and the rest of her friends. The only problem is that life hasn’t been quite so generous to Twilight Sparkle lately to allow for something like that to happen.

As soon as she steps inside, a voice calls out to her. “Ms. Sparkle! What a pleasure it is to see you this morning!” Biting back a groan, Twilight forces a smile and turns towards the speaker. Of course, it would be just like her to pop a surprise first thing in the morning.

“Vice Principal Luna! What a pleasure. How are you?”

“Well enough,” the sultry, dark-haired woman purrs, her lips curled into a smug smile. “I was wondering if you could come to the office for a special meeting. My sister and I would both like the opportunity to talk to you about certain things that have been going on in the school as of late.”

Well that’s just wonderful.

“I’d be delighted!” Twilight lies through her teeth.

And so the girl’s disastrous morning continues, with her situated in Principal Celestia’s office. The bell for the start of the day has already rung, and she’s stuck staring down a familiar scene of the giant woman being seated, while the smaller Vice Principal Luna all but lays herself across her sister. Presently, the dark haired woman has her arm strewn across her sister’s shoulder, with one hand resting underneath Celestia’s chest, futilely trying to heft one of her massive mamms. Not that the Principal seems to mind, since she continues to press down with the full weight of her chest into her sister’s palm.

The silence continues for a long moment, before Principal Celestia finally clears her throat and begins. “So Twilight, how are things at home?”

“As well as can be expected,” the fabulous fibber shrugs. “Mommy’s keeping my father up at all hours, but it isn’t exactly bad.”

“Good, good.” Celestia bobs her head, still smiling even as Twilight’s words seem to go in one ear and out the other. Luna leans over to whisper in her sister’s ear, but is cut short by a rather tired look. As the smaller woman frowns and goes back to her lounging position, Celestia speaks again. “Well, we called you in today because both Vice Principal Luna and I have noticed a few, unusual things going on in the school.”

As Twilight raises an eyebrow, Luna straightens herself up and chimes in, “We’d like to ask you a few questions about the magic, if at all possible.”

“I’m an open book, Principals.” Twilight flashes a winning smile and bats her eyes.

“We are both very glad to hear that, Twilight,” Celestia nods and gives the Princess-turned-student a smile of her own. “First, and most pressing of all, we’d like to know, in your own words, what happened to Granny Smith.”

“Oh, right, she’s like old, but also really hot now. I have absolutely no idea how it happened though.” How amusing it is, Twilight thinks as she soaks in the uncertain looks from the administrators, that the first thing she actually tells the truth about is met with such suspicion. Offering another smile, she shrugs and tries again. “I mean, I guess it might have to do with some apples that AJ lost like a week ago, but I personally didn’t have anything to do with her becoming a total sex bomb.”

With a heavy sigh, the Principal looks up to her sister who, donning a severe scowl, is the next to step into the verbal venue. “Then our next inquiry is into the state of students Lilac Sky and Spring Step. We noted that after returning from the weekend, they were much more developed than when they left.”

Frowning, Twilight crosses her arms over her chest. “I don’t even know who those two are.”

The Vice Principal grits her teeth and leans over the desk, giving Twilight an eyeful of her larger bust. Luna goes on the attack yet again, “Are you saying that you’ve had nothing to do with using your magic on anyone in this school?”

“Recently? Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m saying.” Twilight leans to the side, managing to partially bypass the Vice Principal’s bust and catch Celestia’s eye again. “I haven’t used any magic on anybody since your talk with Mommy a week ago.”

The pony Princess does her best to hide the venom in her voice at the prospect of being used by the Principal. Thankfully, she’s apparently gotten pretty good at this whole hiding her intentions thing, and the giant woman behind the desk doesn’t even look at her funny. Instead, Celestia reshuffles some papers on her desk, as though searching for something, before clearing her throat again.

“In that case, what can you tell me about the rest of the students here at CHS? I’m sure that you’ve noticed they seem a little, different this week?”

“I have; I ran into Cloudy Kicks on my way to school and she’s coming along really nicely,” Twilight replies with a happy grin. She’s met with another round of suspicious looks, and rolls her eyes. “I already told you tht didn’t do anything to anyone, ‘kay? All I know is that a lot of students here look like they’re about to start busting out of their clothes and become serious hunks and babes, so I think it might have something to do with the school itself, or something.”

That catches Luna’s interest. “What do you mean by ‘the school itself’?”

“Well, y’know,” Twilight shrugs, reaching up and twirling her hair around a finger, “it’s kind of like just by being in the school, they’re turning into bimbos and studs. I mean, you’ve noticed that it’s not just the students, right?” Looking between the bewildered broads, the otherworldly magical adept offers a smug smile. “Next time you’re walking around the school, take a good look at how far the new colors have spread. I mean, practically every hall is painted pink or red or purple at this point. Which, I have to say, is a lot better than that yellow and green color scheme you were using. Ick.”

“So what does that mean, Twilight?” Celestia asks.

“Just that the school’s been absorbing the magic too and that that’s probably why you’re noticing the students changing without doing anything. They’re, like, spending hours a day almost every day, just living in it, so it’s bound to have an effect.”

“Is there any way we can we control it?”

“Not really, unless we find the source of the magic.”

Luna cuts in again, quickly asking, “But isn’t that you?”

“Me?” Twilight’s eyes widen and she begins to giggle. “Oh, how I wish!” She doesn’t bother to add that if she were, or even still had access to, the source of the magic, this conversation wouldn’t be happening. “But nope, I’m just caught up in this, same as you.”

“Albeit with a few more benefits, such as being able to control a measure of the magic,” Luna adds with a wary tone before leaning back on her sister’s arm. “Are you certain that you haven’t used it at all since last week?”

“I think you’d be able to tell if I did.” Twilight fixes the smaller sister with a look that sends a small shiver down Luna’s spine. But it disappears just as quickly as the girl grins and tacks on a, “For reals!”

The two administrators look at each other, and then back to Twilight. It takes her a moment, but Celestia leans forward, pressing her breasts back against the desk and asks, “Do you know if it will stay confined to the school? Or start running rampant through the city?”

Now it’s the student’s turn to tense. She puts on the biggest, fakest smile she can manage, and works to choose the right moment to speak so that her voice doesn’t quiver too much. “I, don’t really know. Why, have you noticed anything outside of the school?”

The seconds tick by, until finally Celestia shrugs and shakes her head. “No, not especially. But Luna and I still aren’t quite sure what we’re dealing with in this magic. And neither of us are convinced that you entirely understand it either.”

“That makes it very hard to control,” the Vice Principal continues. “But, you can still use the magic yourself?” Twilight gives the pair an uncertain nod, and Luna bobs her head in agreement. “Alright then, that’s all I need to know. Just be aware that we may need to call on you or your friends sometime in the future to handle a certain project.”

“If we decide to follow through on it,” Celestia says, perhaps a little too quickly. The sisters stare at one another, practically glaring as a lifetime of arguments rumbles back and forth between them.

Taking that as a cue, the student gets to her feet and smiles. “Well, if there’s nothing else, I really do need to get to class. Don’t want to be any later than I need to be!”

“Have Raven write you an excuse,” Celestia deadpans, now fully focused on the female beside her. “Thank you for your time, Twilight.”

Waggling her fingers at the pair, Twilight giggles, “Yup, toodles!” and slips out of the office.

But before the door closes, Luna snaps her head around and calls out, “Just remember, Ms. Sparkle, we’ve got our eyes on you!”

Truth be told, Twilight can’t get out of the office soon enough. Pulling the door shut behind her, the dark-haired girl gives a heavy sigh and takes a few moments to gather herself up again before approaching the secretary’s desk. “I’d like an excuse to get to class.”

“How much class do you want?” the brunette behind the desk titters with a coy grin. “Hold on a minute dear, I’ll finish this memo up and get you sorted out.”

The quick clack-clack of the keyboard under the secretary’s skillful fingers would be loud enough on its own, but even that sound is drowned out by the loud smacking and chewing coming from her mouth. Twilight’s nose wrinkles a bit at the childish, and to be honest, quite vulgar display, as spittle visibly pools and spreads around her fat, white-stained lips. And just like that, Raven finishes her work and scribbles out a hand-written excuse for the girl.

“Here we go, one excuse; just don’t feel like you have to use it all at once.” Another heavy-lidded wink and round of gum smacking follows. “Have a good day, sweetie!”

“You too,” Twilight says with a smile and then hurries off into the hall, more than happy to put as much distance between herself and the administrative suite as possible. If she weren’t so strung out after the meeting, Twilight might have found it amusing that the one pony she had wanted to spend so much time with while she was in Canterlot, is also the one person she wants to avoid as much as possible at CHS. But such social intricacies are lost on her overheated brain as she struggles to scheme and plot a path to escaping the eclipsing shadow of the Principals bust.

“You’re late.” Those were the first words out of Mr. Doodle’s mouth when she walked in the door. After stretching his arm upward, the shorter than average man scribbles a few math problems onto the board, he adds, “You can drop your note on my desk and take a seat.”

Twilight does as she’s told, leaving her excuse where she was told, and quickly hurrying to an open seat near the back of the class. Despite everything that’s happened today, there is one slight that stands out in her mind the most at this moment: that her teacher hadn’t even bothered to look at her!

Granted, it’s no secret that Mr. Doodle is absolutely head over heels for Ms. Mule, but that doesn’t excuse him for not having a wandering eye. Seriously though, Twilight’s a fine piece of ass! At least, in her own mind. And she isn’t wrong either, but to be so easily brushed off by an older man who should be trying to get an undeserved eyeful, well, any hottie would find that infuriating! And things only get worse from there.

There should be no doubt that Twilight is every bit a bimbo: from her high heels all the way up to her brain’s occasionally spacey moments. But she’s far from a fool, and still quick enough to figure out almost any question poised to her in an academic setting. Yet, every time she raises her hand to answer a question, Mr. Doodle chooses someone else. Without fail, as soon as her hand goes up, his attention goes to the other side of the room. So it is that eventually Twilight ends up crossing her arms under her chest and pouting for the rest of the period.

And the bell takes forever to ring too. But eventually it does, and Twilight’s day continues in a similar manner until lunch.

“What a day!” Applejack groans as she sits herself down at the table. The busty but bottom-heavy blonde fans herself with a hand, but still grins from ear to ear as Rainbow Dash pulls up a chair beside her. Both girls are covered in a slight layer of glistening moisture and smiling at each other as though they’d just had the time of their lives. “I’ve got to say Rainbow, even with all of those girls cheering you on, you don’t seem to be getting any faster.”

“Shut up!” the rainbow-haired girl giggles, slugging her friend in the shoulder. “Anyway, the cheering isn’t supposed to make you go faster, it’s to help you leave everything on the table.”

Raising an eyebrow, the blonde smirks and shrugs as she replies, “Well, judging from how eager you were in the shower with them after our volleyball game, I guess they didn’t cheer hard enough.”

“If I weren’t already sore, I’d make you regret that,” Rainbow gives a playful snort before digging into her protein-rich lunch.

Applejack’s teasing smile never falters as she turns to her own food. “Just like on the court today, you could try.”

“Gracious, are you two picking at one another again?” Rarity chides, moving in to sit beside Twilight. “I swear, it’s like neither of you can keep your hands off one another.”

“She started it,” both girls reply, Rainbow with her mouth full.

“Sounds like someone’s in need of a wresting party!” Pinkie squeals, swooping in on the other side of Rainbow Dash, across from Rarity. She clings to the toned girl’s arm, pulling it deeper into her soft, squishy cleavage. “Just give me the word and I can find an excuse to get the gym cleared out and get mats and everything else ready! Ooh! Or we could use actual mattresses and give a really kinky kind of feel by saying the loser has to do anything the winner says!”

“That ain’t necessary, Pinkie,” AJ chuckles as Rainbow’s cheeks redden and the lean girl struggles not to choke on her food. ‘It’s all in good fun anyway, and I’m not in much of the mood to become another one of her fangirls, or making her into a farmhand.”

Setting her things down beside Twilight and across from Applejack, Fluttershy offers a gentle smile and adds, “I think that you’re both wonderful just the way you are, even if you can be a little, well, loud sometimes.”

Finally swallowing, Rainbow smirks. “Well, you have to let loose sometime, Fluttershy. There are times when all you can really do is scream.” As the rainbow-haired bimbo takes a sip of her drink, no one notices as Twilight’s shoulders begin to rise. “Once you really let it out, you feel great afterwar-”

“AHHHHH!”

The whole lunchroom freezes as Twilight lets loose one of the most frustrated sounds in school history. It carries on for only a few seconds, but the irritation rebounds within the walls, echoing back and filling everyone with a similar, weighty feeing of dread. It takes a solid thirty seconds for life to start moving again once Twilight presses her forehead into the table, but eventually the steady drone of life returns to the cafeteria.

Letting loose another sigh, the pony Princess turns her cheek against the table, looks up at Rainbow and says, quite simply, “I don’t feel any better.” Even knowing the girls as well as she does, Twilight is a little taken aback at how quickly they descend on her.

“That’s about the loneliest cattle call I’ve ever heard,” Applejack frowns, slinging an arm around the pony-girl’s shoulders.

“I’ll say,” Rainbow cuts in, as the girls on the either side of her lean forward, concern etched on their faces. “You got something weighing you down?”

“You can tell us, if you’d like.” Fluttershy says, only to be nearly drowned out by Pinkie’s own input.

“Yeah, talking out your problems helps!”

Rarity slides her arm around Twilight’s, quietly grasping her hand and entwining fingers with the frustrated young woman. “Yes, come now dear; what on earth is causing you so much grief?”

Looking around the table at the concerned expressions on her friend’s face, she sighs, puffs out her cheeks in a pout, and answers in the most direct way possible, “Oh, you know, like, figuratively everything.” When the table doesn’t budge, Twilight takes that as a cue to continue.

“Don’t get me wrong, girls, I totally love having an absolutely rocking body. But it just feels like this whole world has gone crazy since we lost the book.” Dragging her fingernail in small circles on the tabletop, the bimbo gives a weary sigh. “And then that whole debacle with Sunset got even worse and she’s all like, “well, you can’t go back to Equestria right now because who knows how the magics would interact with each other”, which is totally dumb because I’m, like, the Princess of Magic-”

“Friendship,” Fluttershy quietly reminds her.

Twilight rolls her eyes and huffs. “Magic, Friendship, they’re practically like the same thing in Equestria. Anyways, you guys know that I can’t go back because Sunset’s got it into Spike’s head that I need to be quarantined until she figures out what’s going on. Which, y’know, is taking FOREVER.”

“I don’t see why we can’t just up and change her,” Rainbow sighs, threading her fingers behind her head. “I mean, we know the magic works on ponies from Equestria, so we should just trick her or something and stop this whole game.”

“Plus it’s so totally amazing!” Pinkie chimes in. As she grabs onto Dash’s arm with a double grip, her infections smile spreads to Rainbow and Rarity. “You get a super sexy body and every day is like the best ever!”

Chucking, Rarity gives a gentle toss of her hair and fixes Twilight with a coy smirk. “The extra attention from hopeful paramours is a rather pleasant perk; I haven’t needed to carry my own books for weeks now. But come darling, you must have at least considered being a little more forceful with our reluctant friend.”

“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.” Fluttershy says, shaking her head as Applejack nods in agreement.

“Much as that might resolve the situation, being all willy-nilly with how we’ve gone about changing folks is what’s got us into this pickle to begin with.”

“Besides,” Twilight mumbles, commanding the attention of the table once more, “Sunset’s a smart girl. We missed our chance the first few times around, so she’s keeping an eye on us too. Besides, if she does feel like she’s been forced, why would she have Spike let me through anyway? It wouldn’t solve anything.”

The girls quiet a little at that, letting the purple-haired bimbo stew for a moment more before she starts in again. “Anyway, that’s just the start; there’s also the whole thing with Administration not wanting anything to happen without their say-so, which makes going back to Equestria seems even FURTHER away. And then Celestia put me up with the Twilight from THIS world’s family, but not before making every single one of them into total sex machines.”

Cradling her head in her hand, Twilight shudders. “Every morning at breakfast, Dad’s been balls-deep in Mommy, and she just doesn’t care; bouncing around on him and howling like a banshee. And then there’s Shining Armor-” The girl has to pause at this point for a few collective sighs from her friends, specifically Pinkie Pie. Giving the frizzy-girl a rather warning look before continuing, “and he’s plowing Cadence, like, every night. My room keeps shaking every single night until all four of them finally go to sleep.”

Twilight conveniently leaves out the part about how abused her little cunny has become over the past week of listening to the two pairs of lovers go at it. Doubtless one or two minds at the table are in the same place, however.

“And then there’s the neighbors. Every morning it’s always something going on and they just don’t shut up! I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in over a week. And then I get to come to school and do a bunch of boring coursework while feeling like the Principals are keeping eyes on me to see if I step out of line, so I can’t take any steps to get back to Equestria. Then I have to go home every day before dark to more lovey-dovey Mommy and Dad, and Cadence and Shining, and just do everything all over again!”

“But that’s not the worst part.” Having worked herself up into a righteous fury by this point, Twilight slams her palms into the table, causing Fluttershy to jump at the sound as the pony Princess rises to a half standing position. “The worst part is, that even with this absolutely rocking bod, I can’t find the time to focus on getting my busy bimbo brains screwed out! It’s driving me CRAZY!”

Slumping back into her seat, Twilight flops forward onto the table. Her bust squishes between the hard surface and her chest, threatening to spill up and out from her already overstrained top. Uncaring that her miniskirt is hiked up higher to reveal more fleshy cheek than usual, or that she’s once again the center of attention in the small bubble surrounding her table, she looks up her friends and asks, quite pitifully, “I don’t even know where to begin with solving this.”

The silence lingers for a moment while the girls consider their friend’s situation. Applejack even manages to take a sip of her boxed juice when Pinkie Pie declares, “Duh, you just need to get laid!”

The outbreak of conversation is slowed only as long as it takes Applejack to stop hacking the juice up from her lungs. “What in tarnation are you talking about Pinkie? You can’t just go around getting porked by every so-and-so who wants in your coochie!”

“Puh-leeze,” Pinkie giggles with a wave of her hand. “It’s not every so-and-so, just the ones who are looking to take a ride on the party train!” For emphasis, the frizzy haired girl grins and raises her arm at a right angle while clenching her fist, before tugging downward twice. “Toot-toot!”

“I gotta agree with Pinks on this one.” Dash crosses her arms and nods her head. “I mean, burning off steam by competing and working hard is great, but sex is combines both of those at once, and you can both come out a winner most of the time.” Pinkie gives a delighted squeal, lunging at her friend and wrapping her arms around Rainbow’s waist before burying her face in the athlete’s chest and motorboating her breasts.

Applejack rolls her eyes and crosses her arms under her chest as Rainbow and Pinkie descend into a fit of giggles. “I can appreciate the work ethic, but not the attitude. That kinda stuff ought to be at least a little bit special.” The girl’s cheeks color a bit as she toys with one of her pigtails. “I mean, what’s the point if you’re gonna go around and share it with everybody?”

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with sharing,” Fluttershy finally chimes in, offering a soft smile. “But maybe we could, you know, tone it down a little bit. Like, not giving out free blowjob coupons anymore, for example? I find that holding a fuzzy animal is a great way to relieve stress.”

While her friends continue to go back and forth on the merits of slutting up and having standards, Twilight feels herself sinking deeper into the misery hole in which she’s presently languishing. Sighing, she presses her forehead to the table and again tries to deal with the fact that this might be her fate for the foreseeable future, when a ticklish sensation runs down her spine. She straightens up immediately with a whinnying laugh, “He-he-he-he!” before shooting an almost hurt look at the now wide-eyed Rarity, whose tickling talons are now pressed gently against her palm.

“Sorry dear, I wasn’t quite expecting that,” her friend says with a small giggle. Looking around the table, and seeing that Twilight had managed to kill the conversation yet again, Rarity takes it upon herself to move it forward. “Girls, while I do appreciate the suggestions that you are all making, I simply must object! What our friend Twilight needs is not simply a visit to the petting zoo, a proper, ahem, pounding, or even to work up a good sweat.” Glancing around, and quite sure that she has the other five enraptured, Rarity thrusts out her hand with a flourish. “What she needs is a trip to the spa!”

Applejack and Rainbow groan, while Fluttershy dons her usual, gentle smile, and Pinkie continues to stare ahead with her usual vacuous grin. Twilight can’t help but giggle a little, shaking her head. “It’s good to know that no matter what world I’m in, you’re always going to be consistent Rarity. But I really don’t think-” The bimbo is cut off by Rarity’s index finger pressing against her soft lips.

“Darling, I mean no offense saying this, but thinking is what has gotten you all wound up in the first pace. You are in dire need of at least one thought-free hour, where you can shut that busy big brain of yours off, and be tended to like a lady ought.” With yet another roll of her wrist, Rarity slides her finger away from Twilight’s lips and extends it to the rest of the group. “As a matter of fact, we should all go! I’m quite certain all of us would benefit.”

“Yeah, that sounds great and all, but I really can’t be making these decisions last minute,” Rainbow Dash says with a rather unconvincing lie to cover up her disinterest. “I’ve got practice and everything, I can’t just eave the team out to dry just to get pampered.”

Pinkie makes an uncertain sound, but then bobs her head. “Dashie’s right, and for me too! There’s a huge order of specialty treats going out today, and I don’t want to skip out on them with such short notice.”

Rarity gives a gentle nod, before whipping her head around and shooting Fluttershy a hopeful look. The pink-haired girl wilts a bit under her friend’s stare, and gives a girlish giggle as she toys with her hair. “Don’t get me wrong Rarity, normally I would love to go with you and Twilight to the spa. But I need to go to Sweet Apple Acres with Applejack after school and take care of something.”

“Yeah, something’s right,” Applejack says with a surprisingly dark chuckle, causing Fluttershy’s cheeks to color as she sinks down deeper into her seat. Glancing around the table, Twilight offers her fashionista friend a weak smile.

“Well, I guess that settles it.”

“It does indeed,” Rarity says with a solemn nod. But then she’s all smiles, hooking her arm through Twilight’s own in a manner that suggests ‘no’ will not be taken for an answer. “I’m a little disappointed, but I have been dying to get some one-on-one time with you Twilight. Ooh, I can already feel my pores exfoliating!”

Twilight forces a smile and laughs as well. “He, he, oh, I can’t wait…”

===

The rest of the school day proceeded in much the same way for Twilight, so much so that there’s even a small part of her that looks forward to breaking up the monotony that has become her daily life. While Canterlot High is a nice, and increasingly sexy, school, there is a measure of homesickness that comes with being away from Equestria for an extended period of time. What must her friends think has happened to her? Heck, what must Princess Celestia think? How much has Spike told them? All those questions and more circle around the young Princess’ head as she walks down the street beside Rarity, who is simply gushing. About their spa trip, of course.

“Oh, you simply will not believe what these women are capable of doing with their hands!” Rarity all but squeals, shortening her stride just long enough to click her heels against the ground a few more times than necessary. “Perhaps the location is a little lacking, especially compared to Crystal Charm’s Chirapsia in downtown, but I assure you that this will be one afternoon of pampering that you are not soon to forget!”

“I’ll take you at your word, Rarity; I’ve yet to be disappointed with anything you’ve recommended.” Twilight smiles gently at her friend and sighs. Despite the world being so different, it’s nice to have some sense of the familiar, even if she’ll be gong to this spa day on two legs instead of four.

After a short walk, the pair arrives at the front door of two-story building which takes up a fair portion of the small block it sits on. It’s hardly Ponyville Spa, but the standard-looking brick structure is at least somewhat pleasant to look at, with an air of class coming from the full-length frosted windows across the front, decorated with a simple, cursive script which simply reads ‘Day Spa’ on either side of the door.

“It is rather unfortunate that our friends won’t be joining us,” Rarity sighs, quieting long enough for the bell to ring as she opens the door, “I would have much preferred to make an afternoon-long trip. But, we will just have to make due!” With a girlish giggle, she steps inside and throws her arm wide in a dramatic fashion. “Hello again, dears! I trust you’ve been well?”

“Welcome back, Ms. Rarity,” a bored voice calls out from behind the counter. The young woman glances up for only a moment, her punky-spiked hair bobbing against gravity before she looks back down at her magazine. Aside from the hair, she’s rather plain when set alongside the garish girl across from her. She boasts a slight figure, with more hips than chest, probably as a result of working a desk daily, but despite her ordinary shape, she still boasts enough confidence to wear a pair of earrings not just in the lobe of her ears, but the auricle as well.

Going through the entirely unnecessary and imaginary motion of tucking her hair behind her ear, the receptionist glances up at the pair again. “We weren’t expecting you again until this weekend.” Turning the page, she gives a weary sigh. “So, are you here for the usual?”

“Oh no, Roxie; today is more of a visit for my friend than for me.” Rarity minces her way up to the counter. “You see, she’s been feeling terribly tense lately, and she is in sore need of a prolific pampering. What do you think you can do for us?”

The purple haired young woman glances up as Rarity leans over the counter, squishing her chest up and outwards. Roxie glances between the girl’s cleavage and her eyes for a few seconds before sighing again and opening up the schedule book. Her well-maintained nails tickle their way down through the day’s timeslots before stopping over an open space.

“Well, we do have a few special clients slated to come in soon, but I think we can squeeze you in for a few of our services.” Roxie pauses, leaning her chin on her palm as she chuckles. “At least, as long as you don’t ask for a ‘special service’ again.”

The pale girl’s cheeks color as she huffs and looks away. “That was one time and I certainly did not intend it to come across in that manner!”

“Of course, of course,” Roxie says with a tired wave of her hand. She fixes Twilight with a lazy glare, narrowing her eyes and then looking back to Rarity. “You’re not wrong though; this girl is in dire need of a deep massage.”

Already on edge on account of the stranger’s stare, Twilight jumps a bit as she’s suddenly dragged into the conversation. “I, I am? How do you mean?”

“I’ve been working here long enough that I can tell just by your posture, your body’s all out of whack. Something’s been eating you up and you haven’t been taking care of yourself.” Roxie gives another bored yawn, scribbling something in the open space. “I know you’re scheduled a body wrap for this weekend, Rarity, so I just put you in for a quick massage and a facial. I’ve also got time to get you both a pedicure, if you’re interested.”

“Done!” Rarity says, passing the woman her credit card without missing a beat. As the cost is being charged, she turns to Twilight and smiles. “Don’t let Roxie’s demeanor deceive you; she’s got an incredible eye and a knack for knowing exactly what her customers need.”

“You forget that I rule the salon floor with an iron fist.” The punky-woman smirks, handing Rarity back her card. “Your appointments are in forty minutes on the second floor, room C. If you’d like to relax a little beforehand, well,” she shrugs, going back to her magazine, now flipping the pen between her fingers, “look, I’m not going to waste my breath. You’ve been here often enough Rarity, you know the drill.”

Indeed, she does. One wa-ha-ha-rilwind later, and Twilight finds herself in the basement of the building. The flooring is finished, a fine, flatly-sanded stone tile that every so slightly tickles the bottoms of the pony-girl’s feet. She gives an uncertain giggle, very aware of her nakedness beneath the plush towel wrapped tight around her body. Rarity, not so much. The fashionista all but flaunts her way towards the sauna, her barely-covered curves displayed with absolute confidence. Above them, the exposed piping rattles occasionally, and the distant hum of dryers is ever present.

“I truly am very excited to have you here, Twilight; your last visit was so focused on defeating that Dazzlings that we never had an opportunity to actually do anything outside of the Rainbooms!” Rarity says as they make their way past a mousey-looking young woman doing some light cleaning around the large, whirlpool bath in the center of the room. The purple-haired assistant doesn’t look that much older than either of the other girls, with her small stature and rather unremarkable, almost curveless figure. However, much like Roxie upstairs, her hands are immaculate, and her face attention grabbing with both it’s soft, supple, innocently youthful appearance, and the expertly applied makeup.

She stares at the girls, perhaps a little longer than necessary, and quickly looks away when Rarity catches her eye and winks. Barely containing her tittering, Rarity leads her friend into sauna proper. Both girls are immediately overcome by the almost oppressive humidity of the room, but as Twilight swelters under the heat, Rarity saunters over to the bench and has a seat.

“Ooh, that’s the stuff,” she says with a sigh, stretching out her long limbs, an action which very nearly tears her towel loose from around her chest. Her breasts bulge in a pleasant way before the pale girl taps the wooden seat beside her. “Come, come, dear, have a seat and tell me more about what’s been going on.”

Pulling up beside her friend, Twilight sighs and crosses her legs. “I’m not sure what else to say about it, Rarity. Like, I pretty much told you everything today at school.”

“No, no, no!” Rarity shakes her head and tuts her tongue. “While you may have had a little cathartic moment today at lunch, you simply must lay the rest of those vile frustrations bare before recovery can really begin. Now, tell me truly,” she begins, reaching out and taking Twilight’s hand, “are you still a little upset about our little lunch chat on Monday?”

The Princess looks away and scowls. “You mean the whole, ‘everyone’s managed to change someone this week but me’ bit?” Rarity bobbles her head while Twilight pouts. “I suppose that might be it. But I already said that it feels like Principal Celestia is always watching me, and Mommy starts to panic if I stay out too late, like she thinks I’m going to disappear or something.”

Twilight giggles a bit, tucking hair behind her ear as a weak smile crosses her lips. “I guess she’s not totally wrong; I really do wish I could, sometimes. But everything is just so, like, heavy. Compared to you girls, lately I’ve just felt so, y’know, small.”

As the words escape her lips, Twilight feels her nose wrinkle a little. She hadn’t meant to be so up front in regards to how she was feeling, but Rarity drew it out of her anyway. While Pinkie Pie and Rarity may not have been able to change someone at the school, as they had agreed the previous week, they had at least made some progress! The last time Twilight had exerted any magical muscle was, what, nearly two weeks ago at this point? Regardless of when she had infused the Snapshot’s camera with a bit of magic, the point is that it had been a really long time! And, her frustration wasn’t just that either.

Against her better judgment, the Princess of Friendship allows herself to drink in her friend’s form. While Rarity had always been taller than Twilight, the magic had made that so much more pronounced. The rest of her body had followed suit, truly living up to the fashionista’s big and bold aspirations, with a classically hourglass shape, alongside an enviable top-heavy figure.

It was the same with all her friends: perfect figures that cause Twilight’s mouth to start watering, while also making her abundantly aware of her own comparative smallness. Not that Twilight is unimpressive by any means, but among her friends, she settles into the camp of ‘slightly less’. And the feeling that accompanies that knowledge seems to perpetually burn away inside her belly.

She should be more, she thinks! Not that her friends don’t deserve stellar bodies, but why should she be the one left on the out? She’s the one who used the book in the first place and she’s the one who changed her friends! And someone who hadn’t done anything at all, like Cloudy Kicks, having a figure that rivals or, dare Twilight consider, surpasses hers, the very thought is enough to, to-!

“Oh, that won’t do at all,” Rarity chides the fuming young woman. Before Twilight can turn her rising rage on the mental interloper, she finds herself surrounded by softness. Blinking the red out of her vision, the smaller girl gulps as she realizes that Rarity has her wrapped in a tight hug. Their bodies press together, with only two plush towels separating them from full, intimate contact. Even still, the pressure on Twilight’s nipples causes them to harden, and then drag over the towel’s softness. She shudders, and Rarity smiles.

“There now, feeling a little better?” Twilight nods, and Rarity resumes the close contact. “Don’t worry about where you stack up, darling; every single one of us knows that you’re responsible for this glorious gift. Besides, have you seen Pinkie Pie lately? If she is any indication, I have a feeling we all have a lot of growing left to do.”

The Princess gulps and bobs her head once. Even as a slightly sex-obsessed slut, Rarity always finds a way to cut to the quick. And, admittedly, Twilight does feel a little better. She sighs, and notes that a bit of the weight she’s been carrying around for the better part of a week now, simply disappears. The two are content to continue holding one another for a while longer, until a sudden hiss snaps them out of their daze.

“Oh, I apologize,” the purple-haired attendant from earlier says with an uncertain smile. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, it’s just that it’s time to refresh the steam and-” Her tongue stumbles around in her mouth as she can’t seem to tear her eyes away from the scene in front of her. “I, I do, um, sorry, please…”

“How cute,” Rarity whispers under her breath. Untangling herself from Twilight, the fashionista makes a show of crossing her legs, wetting her lips as the attendant’s eyes are instinctively drawn downwards. Clearing her throat, Rarity smiles to the young woman. “I make an effort to know all the spa staff here, but I don’t believe that we have had the chance to meet yet.”

The girl quickly straightens herself up and nods. “Of course! My name is Vera.”

Rarity mouths the name a few times before her eyes light up. “Vera? As in, Aloe and Lotus’ cousin?”

“One and the same,” the attendant says with a soft smile. “I know they talk about me a bit, all the regulars I’ve been introduced to so far have reacted the same way. But, I thought it might be time to try to get into the family business, so I’m working here a few days during the week.”

“How delightful,” Rarity purrs, taking her time to size the girl up. Vera flinches a little, her hands sliding to the hem of her double-breasted uniform shirt and beginning to play with it. The longer Rarity stares, the more color rushes to the attendant’s cheeks, and the tighter she clenches her shirt until, eventually, Vera gasps as her knuckles make contact with her thighs. She squirms in visible discomfort, but doesn’t move again until Rarity nods her head. “Well, I have to say that you certainly must have come from the side of the more shapely side of the family.”

“Oh no, not at all!” she replies, far too quickly, thrusting her chest upward in defense. Twilight can’t help but raise an eyebrow as she notes the orange size orbs pushing back against the now-taut fabric, though writes it off as not having noticed earlier because of the baggy nature of the shirt. “The whole family is rather the same, but we don’t mind.”

Rarity shrugs and smiles. “My mistake; thank you for humoring me for a while Vera, I won’t keep you any longer.” The young woman quickly bows her head and backs out of the sauna, leaving the two friends alone again. “Ooh, that was so much fun!” Rarity squeals, stretching her limbs out again. “I love to tease these girls, even if they never take me up on my suggestions. That Vera, I think she should be a lot of fun; I hope I have her when I visit this weekend!”

Twilight rolls her eyes, but finds herself unable to suppress the accompanying giggle. How very strange to consider how the dynamic of playful flirting between girls changes when one of them is drop-dead gorgeous and oozing sex appeal. Speaking of oozing, after a few minutes more sweltering in the sauna, Rarity guides Twilight back to the locker room and the pair enjoy a quick shower and rinse. A pair of fresh towels are waiting for the two of them once they leave the shower, and both girls make their way towards the elevator to take them to the second floor.

Rarity, still giddy with excitement, practically prances through the open doors. “Come, come now Twilight; our pampering awaits!”

“Right, pampering,” the still worn-down girl sighs as the shutter closes behind her. Old gears grind as the elevator chugs upwards; the building showing its age in more ways than one as the rising box shudders to a stop on the first floor. Doors swing wide as another patron enters, but a sharp, clear voice carries into the elevator from the floor and causes Rarity to go rigid.

“Hold that door for us, would you?”

“Close it,” she whispers to Twilight. Even as the slightly spacey super-brain turns to raise an eyebrow, Rarity reaches out and grabs her by the shoulder and continues to repeat herself in a harsh whisper. “Close the door, close the door!”

But too late. Twilight and Rarity are forced deeper into the elevator by two older women who push their way inside. Twilight recognizes one of them almost immediately by her attitude. “I swear, it really can be such a challenge getting into this hovel; from parking to appointments! If it hadn’t been at your specific request, I would have insisted that we drive into the city.”

The pony Princess scowls as she gets a whiff of an over-abundance of hair products and perfume as the woman’s short locks threaten brush against Twilight’s nose. Without a doubt, this woman is the contemporary to her own Spoiled Rich. While she takes a step back and trying hard not to give a horsey snort to get rid of the smell, Spoiled’s companion takes the opportunity to make herself known.

“I do appreciate you going out of your way, Spoiled; every time I’ve visited the city in the past, I simply must make time to come to this spa. These girls are just as good as their mother was, even better if you consider there are two of them.” Shaking her head, the woman puts on a dreamy smile. “And they always know how to get me ready for my big meetings.”

Twilight feels a tug behind her as the elevator starts chugging upwards again. Glancing back, she gawks at the shivering Rarity trying desperately to hide her overly curvaceous body behind Twilight’s smaller frame. The pale girl offers an apologetic smile and places a finger to her lips as the two women continue.

“Speaking of meetings,” Spoiled begins, moving closer to statuesque woman beside her, “Last time you were in town, you said you would see about using your connections to get my Diamond Tiara a few modeling opportunities.” A pause, then a sly smile. “How did that turn out?”

“I didn’t get any takers, if that’s what you’re asking.” The woman turns her head and offers an apologetic smile. Rarity sinks further behind Twilight as a pair of pink eyes settles on the other occupants of the elevator. But, soon enough, she turns her head forward again and adds, “What most designers are looking for now is a certain level of unnaturalness, even in the models. Diamond Tiara is cute, but most of the connections I have in the modeling business aren’t looking for that right now.”

Spoiled Rich gives a haughty snort and rolls her eyes. “So what you’re saying is that you were ahead of the curve?”

“Thirty years ago,” the pink-haired woman says with a chuckle. “Well, it is better that they recognize my vision now rather than never. But I can’t wait to meet with one of my old models this weekend. Gracious, you should see her figure: even decades later it’s practically supernatural!”

The elevator shudders to a stop and the two women exit, Spoiled’s shoulders sagging a little under the weight of, once again, not getting her daughter into the fashion scene. Their animated conversation continues all the way until they turn into the first room on the right. The other woman who rode up with them takes a room on the left, and the two girls are once again left alone.

As soon as the doors to the massage rooms click shut, Rarity makes a pitiful sound and ushers Twilight out of the elevator. Even with her head still spinning from the overuse of product in Spoiled Rich’s hair, the woozy Twilight manages to ask, “So, mind telling me what that was all about?”

“Prim Hemline,” Rarity says with a weary sigh as she leans her cloth-covered rump against the wall. “Arguably one of the most fashion forward icons in the past fifty years. She’s a regular guest on modeling television programs and has her own circuit for young, up-and-coming designers.”

Twilight’s eyes widen a little as she bobs her head. “Oh, Prim Hemline? I had no idea; it sounds like she is a much bigger deal here than in Equestria. But I thought you would be excited to meet her?”

Twirling her hair around a finger, the fashionista can only manage a nervous giggle. “Ah ha, well, yes, of course. I absolutely adore her work from when she was a designer; it was so unique. But our first, and last, encounter was, shall we say, more disruptive than constructive?”

Rarity’s smile speaks volumes: the conversation is over. Twilight shrugs her shoulders and strides, towards the assigned room; right next to the one the two women entered. She hears her friend heave a sigh of relief before following after her, moving in silence until they reach the door, when Rarity ponders, “Although, I wonder who she was talking about? Prim Hemline was never a prolific designer, just ahead of her time. She said she never found the right model.”

“You’re asking the wrong girl,” Twilight says, turning and giving Rarity a half-smile. “I’ve only ever heard about her.”

The fashionista shrugs her shoulders, taking that as an acceptable response. So it is that the two girls enter the room, letting the door shut heavily behind them. And they are quickly greeted by the scent of aromatic candles, gentle music, and a warm, melodic and foreign voice.

“Miss Rarity! Hallo!”

Immediately the air is back in the young woman’s sails! With a giddy giggle, Rarity minces into the room and grabs the masseuse by her slender hands. “Lotus! You have no idea how absolutely ecstatic I am to have you today.”

The woman gives a brief laugh, pulling one of her hands free to cover her mouth as she shakes those marvelously maintained candy-pink locks. “Oh no, think nothing of it,” she says, dragging a few of her consonants a little longer than would be acceptable. “My sister and cousin are having their hands full next door, I am sure, but we must not forget our loyal clients when they come to surprise us, yes?”

Rarity suppresses another squeal, instinctively raising her heels to click them against the ground to show her excitement. This simple act very nearly sends her face first into the rather modest Lotus Blossom who, to her credit, manages to place a hand on the girl and steady her. As the still-giddy Rarity comes down from her head’s current place in the clouds, Lotus turns towards Twilight. A quick once over, and the pink haired masseuse shakes her head, tutting her tongue.

“Oh no, no, no, I see very well what Roxie was talking about now.” Circling the broad-bottomed bimbo, Lotus shakes her head again and sighs. “Miss Sparkle, you are in dire need of my tender touch. Come, come, lay yourself out and let me take care of you.”

The attendant makes a delicate snatching movement and envelops one of Twilight’s hands in both of hers. Even though the firm, supple muscles of Lotus’ palms are focused around the younger woman’s hand, somehow they manage to milk out a response from Twilight’s feet. She steps across the room, following Lotus towards the table, the masseuse leading her ever closer.

It’s impossible for Twilight’s sex-wired brain not to focus on the female figure in front of her. Still dancing on the cusp between youthful sheen and a more mature beauty, Lotus has a genuinely pleasant figure: all well defined lines and easily palmable curves hidden behind a white attendant uniform that hugs her figure without revealing anything from her shoulders to her knees. Between Lotus’ eye pleasing shape and her warm hands, Twilight knows that she’s in for a treat. The teen is just beginning to get settled on the table when the reality of the situation finally dawns on Rarity.

“Ah, pardon me Lotus, dear, but we seem to be short one body.” The squirming young woman glances around as the masseuse, still focused on Twilight, peels the towel off her prone body and drapes a sheet along her tailbone. “Shouldn’t I be expecting someone for my massage as well?”

“Of course,” Lotus says with a disarming smile. “We are just a little behind today. I am sure he will be here any moment.”

Twilight perks up a little at that, Rarity raising her eyebrow at about the same time. “He?”

“One of our part-timers, I called him in because I knew my sister would have her hands full,” the older woman explains as she washes in the sink. “Don’t worry, he is truly tremendous.”

At that, the door swings open with such force that it clatters against the doorstop! All three women look up to see a mountain of a man, dressed in white, and wheezing as though he had just been running for his life. Considering the look Lotus is giving him, he may very well have been.

Considering the situation, Rarity does a smashing job not sounding like a squawking bird as she shouts in surprise, “BULK?” The giant slab of meat’s eyes widen as he glances between the faces of his classmates, stammering and trying to string together some kind of adequate response. But the masseuse quickly resolves that situation, with one of her own.

“Well, we are glad to have you here, Mister Biceps,” Lotus says in a rather detached way. “Although I did contact you this morning about coming in today to help with overflow.”

The big man squirms. “Sorry, I needed to pick up some stuff for my other job. I didn’t think it would take this long.”

Considering the difference in height, size, and general bulk between the two, seeing the muscular male cowed so quickly brings a giggle from Twilight’s lips. Laying her cheek down on the cool surface of the table, she fixes Rarity with a smile. “It seems like we are all here now, so can we get this started?”

“Yes, please,” Lotus says with a firm nod of her head and motioning to the table. “We are already a little behind, so please, lie down while Bulk prepares himself.”

“But…” Rarity begins, Bulk very much looking ready to offer his own complaint as well.

“No arguing, please,” the pink-haired woman insists. “Miss Rarity, Bulk may not look it but he has a talented touch. Bulk.” She pauses, looking up at the young man. “Remember that Miss Rarity is one of our most valued clients. Treat her well.”

“Yes ma’am!” And he’s off like a bolt to the sink. Rarity huffs and puffs for a few seconds longer, shooting an envious look to her friend before finally resigning herself to her fate. Laying down on the table, she pulls off her own towel and drapes a sheet over herself; perhaps a little too high, but Bulk can adjust it when he returns.

While the amused Twilight continues to watch the pair beside her, she feels a gentle tickle of fingers sliding against the back of her neck. A shudder rolls down the girl’s spine as Lotus moves Twilight’s hair off to the side, exposing her entire back to the world. “Now,” the masseuse says with a gentle tone, “let us see about reliving some of this tension.”

Twilight gives her friend one last look. The bimbo finally manages to catch her eye, Rarity smiles and nods, giving a gentle shooing motion with her hand. Twilight takes a deep breath and turns her head forward. “Then I’ll leave myself in your hands.”

A long but pleasant pause fills the room, where the only sounds are the soft music being piped in from the speakers and the steady thud of water inside the sink. Twilight sinks into the steady, droning sounds, while the scented candles fill her senses and aid in clouding her already foggy brain. And then comes the touch.

It’s undoubtedly electric; from the tips of her hair to her curling toes. Lotus’ close clipped nails dance along the spread of her shoulders as her palms push into the pliable but firm muscles that support the teen’s tasteful tits. Pressure that Twilight wasn’t even aware she was carrying begins to seep up into the masseuse’s masterful hands. For the pony Princess, who had only ever experienced the heavy pressure of hooves working her body, and the gentle, affectionate nature of her friends at CHS, it feels as though she’s actually experiencing deep, intimate, physical contact for the very first time.

“Hnn!” Twilight squeals, instinctively bucking her hips upwards, pressing her belly firmly into the padded table below, and arching her back up, as though trying to coax more affection out of Lotus’ fabulous fingers. Her lidded eyes have sprung wide, but even still she can only see down a narrow point of her vision. And somewhere, at the edge of her mind, Twilight hears a girlish giggle.

“Do be careful, Lotus,” Rarity says with a gentle, teasing tone, “it is Twilight’s first time, after all.”

A subdued sigh escapes from the pink haired woman’s lips as she nods. “I certainly shall, Miss Rarity.” Gentle, guiding hands press into Twilight’s back and rump, easing her back onto the table. “I understand that this may feel pleasurable,” Lotus says in a quiet voice, “but please, do try to contain yourself? We are an establishment focused on providing relief.”

Thoroughly chastised, Twilight manages to bob her head and return to a prone position. Pleasant tingles still jolt out from each fresh touch, while the warmth of her fingers lingers long after the move on. And, while the sensation is clearly meant to be one of soothing, healing, and tenderness, Twilight’s untouched box flinches and twitches as though around a phantom phallus. Her already stiff nipples grind into the surface of the table with each push of Lotus’ palms, and it takes all of her slutty self-control to not try humping her hardening clitty against it as well.

Twilight is unable to stop the slow, steady stream of pleasured sighs and half-moans as the massage continues. Lotus’ hands move down from her shoulders towards her slender waist, spreading outwards and inwards with a steady rhythm. Breathing becomes a challenge, not from the steady pressure of the masseuses’ touch, but because, in the steadily increasing haze filling her mind, Twilight struggles to remember how.

And then, something inside the Princess twitches.

Twinges.

And snaps.

It was a worthy attempt, truly it was. But the intimate contact proves to be too much or the Twilight’s bimbo brains. She gasps, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as the pleasure swells and spreads, down past her back, into the very bottom of her belly and then deeper still! A hissing moan escapes through the girl’s gritted teeth as the wave of tingling tension floods out of her body like a stupendous orgasm. From the way her poor pussy is twitching, it may as well be one.

“Well, darling, it sounds like you’re having a good time,” Rarity says after a few moments, letting Twilight come down from the explosive high. The pony-turned-teen slurs stutters in the common tongue of pleasure, a dribble of drool dragging down from the corner of her lip.

Laid out across the table, Twilight’s brain is only loosely aware of what’s going on in the periphery. Even Lotus’ touch seems a million miles away compared to the dull throbbing between her legs, and the pleasant sexual ache that fills her muscles. Her vision wavers with pink specters looming up out of a pink fog, promising untold delights. She babbles incoherently, as though to invite them in while Rarity giggles.

“I shall take that as a yes. I told you that Lotus was incredibly talented. Though, you are no slouch either, Bulk. I have to say, I’m rather impressed.”

“Yeah?” the tender meathead asks as his large hands kneed her soft skin.

“Mm, yes indeed, dear,” Rarity half-moans. “With practice, I think you will make a fine masseuse. Although I am still surprised to see you here; it just doesn’t seem, well, you.”

Bulk gives a light chuckle. “I wear a lot of hats.”

“So I’m beginning to gather,” the girl on the table says with a cat-like stretch. “So, would you mind telling me what other job kept you from being here on time?”

“I’m, uh, I’m in sales?” Bulk offers, his tone indicating a lack of interest in continuing this conversation. But Rarity blows right by and continues.

“Is that so? What do you sell?”

There’s a long pause before the meaty young man gives a small laugh and says, simply, “Nuts.”

The fashionista falls silent and then giggles. “Nuts you say? Are they, hot nuts?”

Twilight, still struggling with getting her tongue to twist into proper shapes, at least manages to roll her eyes at the innuendo dripping off her friend’s words. She can even make out an irritated click of the tongue from her own masseuse. Bulk, however, is oblivious.

“Oh yeah, we’ve got all kinds of nuts. Hot nuts, roasted nuts, salted nuts, sweet nuts, all kinds,” the burly beefcake repeats.

“Simply delightful!” Rarity giggles again. “You must tell me where your route runs so I can come and sample-”

“Please do not finish that sentence, Miss Rarity,” Lotus warns, her voice taking on a sharper edge. “You are a preferred customer, but I will not have you harass my employees in such a manner.”

The young woman offers up a gentle ho-hum sound, while Bulk looks around in confusion. Twilight bites her lip to hold back a little laugh, focusing again on the hands working over her body. A small sound of satisfaction escapes from her throat as she feels Lotus’ warm palms set to work again, the manicured nails of the masseuse dragging down her back every so often. Small sparks of pleasure cause Twilight’s back to jerk, but she remains as still as she can manage.

One would think, after her first stress-release orgasm, that there is nothing left to work out of Twilight’s body. Oh, but how wrong that is, considering the steadily deeper touch of the ever-so-talented Lotus Blossom; the woman reaching parts of the muscle that Twilight had been quite certain were bone from their stiffness, and releasing them from their tight prison.

“So. Good.” Twilight breathes, shuddering as Lotus pulls a lengthy fingernail down the divot of her spine. The young woman is so wrapped up in the warm, fluffy sensations filling her brain and body, that she is truly shocked when a heavy weight positions itself on either side of her hips. Twilight tries to glance back, but a gentle touch to the back of her neck turns her limbs to putty.

As she’s all but drooling on the tabletop again, Twilight feels a feminine shape sprawl out across her back. “Miss Twilight,” Lotus coos, giving the girl goosebumps with just the whisper of her name, “you have a great deal of pressure. Let me help you wring all of it out.”

The teen gulps, and then whimpers as she feels two fat, soft, heavy weights press into her shoulder blades. After a few seconds, she finds her voice and replies, “Please.”

Twilight’s voice is hardly even a whisper but it’s enough to set Lotus back to work; her skilled hands delving deep into the young woman’s tight body and leaving her feeling ever more like a delightful puddle of gooey, good feelings. Another shudder rumbles through her body, and the helpless girl cries out yet again as her brain explodes into whiteness.

===

Only one room over, Aloe has set about with her own assistant, Lavender Essence, in tending to Spoiled Rich and Prim Hemline. The situation isn’t nearly as erotic as the one next door, with both guests laid out on their tables, simply soaking in the atmosphere and drinking the offered fruit-blends. As Aloe works on the older Prim, Spoiled Rich again tries to broach the same subject she’s been harping on since the pair came into the room.

“While I do appreciate your, hm, predilections, Prim, you can’t say that Diamond Tiara doesn’t check the boxes on that a classic model look. Her well-defined facial structure, a body shape that doesn’t require excess fabric to design for, she’s even tremendously talented in heels for her age.” There’s a pause that lasts only long enough for Spoiled to sip at her drink. “Honestly, would it be such a bad thing to distance yourself from the current trend for models? Perhaps you could bring about a second shift design, back towards something more, reasonable?”

“Hm, you simply don’t understand,” the pink haired woman says with a smile as Aloe works out a particularly stubborn knot As she stares off into the distance, Prim gives a wistful sigh that would probably fit a teenage girl better than a mature woman such as herself. “It wasn’t simply a desire to shake up fashionable foundations that led me to use Posey as my ideal; I legitimately fell head over heels for the girl. That demure nature, her expressive face, how she openly wore the love she felt for the world and everything in it. And that figure, mm!” After a particularly good kneading session, Prim hangs her head and smiles. “That ridiculously eye-catching, absurd, impossible figure was just the icing on the cake that let us take the entire world by storm.”

The words hang in the air, as if there were more to come, but something stops them. It is, in fact, an unusual feeling of pleasurable discomfort that seems to wash over all four of them at once, accompanied by the muffled sounds of a cry next door. It fades quickly enough, but the four women remain in an awkward silence for a while longer. The air is thick with an unusually heady scent, one that seems to bleed a gentle hue of pink into the women’s vision.

“What it is, is a want,” Prim finally adds after the foursome shake off the strange sensation. “I want to work with women with outrageous bodies, lose myself in their feminine features, and savor the look of every one who walks by a magazine covers with one of my darlings on it and seeing them torn between so many different emotions at once.”

As she speaks, the deep creases of age around her eyes and the corners of her mouth begin to soften. However, this is not in the usual graceful manner, but sharp and hard; the entire structure of her face seems to rise back up, not filled with youthful vigor, but with a touch of artificiality that is both alluring and off-putting. The critic’s thin lips, those that can fill a hopeful designer with dread as they disappear in a scowl during a show, refuse to remain so natural on a fabulously fake face, fattening furiously with such a natural heft and surgically induced weight that they end up taking up a good portion of the space between her jawbone and nose. And yet life continues on as expected, with no one batting an eye.

“Simply put, I have no desire to work with a model that is unable to make men want her, and women envious, even with a figure so far outside the expected norm.” Prim’s prodigiously plumped puckers pull into a smile. “But you’re not wrong about her potential. If she fills out a bit, we can talk more.”

And that really should be the end of it: Prim Hemline has spoken, so shall it be. Aloe bites her tongue, holding back a small laugh, and is grateful that she did when a slightly heated Spoiled Rich fires back.

“Excuse me,” the younger of the pair of patrons laughs, shaking her head, “but do you honestly think that just having an impressive pair of tits and a fat ass are enough to make a model? She needs passion, poise, and presence! Without those, your excessively curvy ‘models’ may as well be just another pin-up girl.”

Spoiled’s changes begin in earnest as she rips into the visiting fashionista’s idea, all while mirroring Prim’s, but to a far lesser extent. The strain of years is far less on the millionaire MILF, and so any energy that might have gone to making her face look younger or her lips plump with a younger vigor and a measure of artificiality, instead travels south. Spoiled’s back begins to rise up, the angle steadily increasing as magic condenses in her chest and causes her breasts to swell.

Fast and firm with a magical blend of silicone fakeness and fat, eventually her modest bust expands well beyond the pudgy paunch that had accompanied her into middle age. They spread and stretch, ready to ride impossibly high and free with the littlest support when she stands. But for now, all the utterly unsaggable udders can do is prop up the prone Spoiled. Eventually, her breasts swell so much that it becomes necessary for the middle-aged woman to rest her elbows on the table, and her chin on her palms.

“There is a certain appeal to your large style, and I admit I may have been influenced by it a little in my younger days, but shouldn’t style aspire to be ahead of the curve? Aren’t the girls you like going out of style?”

“Oh please,” Prim says, waving her hand dismissively. “Perhaps if it was anyone else but you saying that, I might actually consider it for a moment. But I’ve seen your home, Spoiled.” A slow smile spreads across the older woman’s face. “I know that as dismissive as you’re trying to be right now, you’ve always had an eye for truly feminine women. You think I wouldn’t notice the kinds of maids you have skimping around your mansion? Would you really just let your husband hire them if you didn’t get anything out of it?”

Prim’s smile grows as the corner of Spoiled’s lip twitches in mild irritation, as though she hated the idea of being found out. Now fully back in control of the conversation, the magic seems to shift back to the older woman in earnest.

The changes to Spoiled Rich, aside from her now massive bust, had been relatively tame. For the fifty-something fashionista, who idolizes the massive and beautiful form of her ideal model, Posey Shy, words such as tame and mild would simply never do. For the woman who aspired to make excessive models the standard, it would only be right for her to take on a shape closer resembling that.

One of the more peculiar aspects of Prim Hemline’s relationship with the fashion world would be that her previously slender body and still long legs would have made waves, had she decided to become a model herself. But, like her pony counterpart in Equestria, Prim has a sense of vision, and a taste for possibility. Why pursue what is rather than what could be?

Even when she was a child, the present Prim had been a long and lean girl, all limbs and torso and very little else. And, just as her previous person had found the female form so enticing, she had also developed a taste for more curvaceous charmers. This time however, puberty’s powerful punch positioned Prim squarely in her very own Pantheon of Physical Perfection that just so happened to house a Sanctum of Sluttery as she grew older.

“Not that I would ever want to judge you for your tastes,” Prim says as she gives a gentle groan under Aloe’s touch and stretches out her body. The magic fills her surprisingly limber body yet again, the stretch going so far as to pull her into an even taller space, one occupied only by some of the most mountainous misses in town. Her legs, once perfectly comfortable on the table, now stretch off a fair distance and, as her knees begin to pass over the lip, an extension from below the table pops into existence, providing reasonable support for the gigantic girl’s gams.

“I had my eye on girls like the ones in your employ for ages; always trying to figure out if they were the way for me to break out into the world and show everyone a whole new side of beauty.” She grunts a bit as Aloe attends to her slightly broadening back. “They wouldn’t have ‘stacked up’,” Prim giggles as her own chest begins to bulge forward, from especially large, to spreading well past her already widened shoulders, “but there’s a beauty in bigness. And I should know.”

Arching her shoulders back as Aloe moves down, the marvelous mammarian makes a little shake and sighs at the wonderful jiggling sensation. “I just want to share it with everyone; to make men blush and women to either take pride in themselves, or strongly consider surgery. Corrective surgery, in my mind,” she chuckles, “to more accurately embody enormity.”

Down below, Prim’s hips spread and bulge further, much to her unknowing delight.  So far, so wide, that even the sheet placed above her hearty haunches peek out from underneath it. Simply put, Prim Hemline is too much woman, even for the experienced hands of the masseuse tending to her. Each push is futile, and it feels as though it’s an attempt to force the woman onto another path. A saner, smaller path, that Prim would never accept.

And she relishes in the sensation. There’s a very real power that comes with being absolutely statuesque and curvaceous; lording it over the ‘littles’ and letting them know where they stand without having to say a word. One look at her, and they just know; there’s no way for them to even with perfection.

As the changes subside, the readily aroused Prim Hemline pants and closes her eyes. “Oh, I really do love coming to this place. You girls and your mother have always treated me right. It’s just a shame that we couldn’t get the two of you together today. I’m sure Mrs. Rich would have appreciated it as well.”

For the still-working Aloe, the implication is obvious. There had always been a certain type of client that had expectations which couldn’t always be fulfilled with just the traditional massage. Sure, sometimes her mother and even Lotus, had taken it upon themselves to serve as a bit of relief, but not Aloe. No, never her.

And perhaps it should have been expected, considering that Lotus Blossom had inherited so very much from their mother, from her figure to her mentality, and the pink-haired Aloe…

Well, at least she had the talent.

That, and a great love for the human body in general. Even with the almost oppressive pressure of need permeating up from Prim’s body, Aloe still could find a sense of peace in massaging the aged muscles. Neither old, nor useless, the best word for them might be ‘ripe’, ready to be plucked at any moment and, from the sounds coming from the pink-haired woman beneath her touch, aching for it.

And so it is that Aloe digs a little deeper, right as the vocal voice next door makes itself known again in fast, hitching tones. Both of the older women chuckle at the sound, as though remembering a time when they themselves were a bit more expressive in their lovemaking, but that only makes Aloe focus that much harder.

Undoubtedly, Lotus is preparing to give her charge a good and proper groping, and that thought makes Aloe feel, angry? Furious? It’s difficult to put into words, but she certainly does feel hot. This isn’t entirely unexpected, as the double-breasted spa uniform retains a ridiculous amount of heat, but this is something a little different. A tingling sort of sensation that is really only comparable to when she and her sister practiced touching and exploring one another as they were growing up.

It was all innocently intentioned, of course; what child doesn’t mimic the jobs of their parents at least once, and the spa provided ample opportunities for the twins to observe as well as quiet places to practice. But eventually, around the time Lotus discovered the joys of touching herself, the game had taken a far more sexual turn and Aloe is uncomfortable with that even now, so her younger self had rejected it outright. So the little games of touching and being touched had come to an end, and so too had the pleasant feelings that had emerged from the twins’ skinship.

Aloe sighs to herself as she continues working her way down Prim Hemline’s tired muscles. Perhaps it was this cold nature that stunted her growth, while Lotus exploded outward in every conceivable direction and become a sexual dynamo. As much as she might try to deny it, the blue-haired young woman would have to admit that Prim’s taunting wasn’t too far off the mark: Aloe had a special distaste for the larger clients who so often frequented the spa, for her sister who was such a bigger, sexier version of what she could have been, and also for herself for the secret feelings she buried deep inside of herself.

She wanted to be just like them. She craved it. She fantasized about it even, no, especially when they were writhing underneath her.

And it never failed to make her wet.

It is a secret shame for certain, the masseuse thinks, especially with the cooler attitude she tries to put up when compared to her sister. The truth is that physical contact means so very much to her that every time Aloe works over one of their bigger clients, she has to be cautious to make sure she doesn’t drip onto the floor. Of course, that doesn’t stop her from going out of her way to get the biggest and the best among them, like Prim Hemline.

Aloe lets out a long, shaky sigh, masking it by continuing to take deep and long inhaled, thereby making it seem as though she’s trying to guide the pink haired woman’s breathing. The heat and tingles spread throughout her body, drawing out all of those deep seeded feelings and aspiring to do something with them.

Another deep breath pushes her chest and stomach outward, but this time there’s something of a counterbalance going on. Below her waist, Aloe’s trim hips stretch outwards, tugging the tights firmly into place. The blue-haired beauty squirms against the fabric and, as though sensing her discomfort, the black tights vanish a few seconds later. Long lines of gooseflesh appear on the masseuse’s legs as they are bared to the world; the tickly bumps running all the way from just above her ballet flats to the still spreading swell of her hips.

Taking a moment to look over at Lavender as she attends to Spoiled Rich, Aloe allows herself a bit of a smile as the younger woman throws her heart into her work. Sure, Lotus’ idea of wearing only a uniform top had seemed a little daring at the time, but it isn’t as though the double-breasted tops aren’t long enough on their own. Landing comfortably on her lower thighs…

Aloe bites her lip, bucking her hips against the air as the perverse magic takes its time spreading her lower body out wider than her shoulders. As the pleasurable moment passes, the now doubly-wide babe tries to collect her thoughts again.

While the uniform tops seem rather short, in reality they stretch all the way down to the middle of her thighs. While the look could be a little racy at times, and Aloe was always having to watch her step so as not to flash too much, it allowed for a great deal of freedom when it comes to movement. Besides, it felt good, right even, to have her long legs exposed to the world.

The same legs which are currently filling out to match her broad hips. Much like the rest of her body, they had been unremarkable in their shape, but pleasantly long enough to appreciate. Now they were taking on a more fitness-oriented shape; perhaps not as overwhelmingly as someone who played a contact sport, or spent their days doing heavy labor, but there is an undeniable dancer’s grace locked within Aloe’s now healthy hamstrings.

It isn’t as though the additional height amounts to much, she still finds herself squarely in the ‘modest’ range of even normal women, the pink platform heels on her feet add enough vertical stretch to land her just a few notches above average. The hem of the uniform shirt rides higher still as a result of her lightly lengthened legs, now clinging to dear life as it tries, and very often fails, to avoid showing off Aloe’s pink, frilly panties. And, as the seconds pass, the modest goal falters, shifts, and changes along with her. No longer seeking to cover, but to reveal, in the most fetishistic way it can manage.

Continuing her bottom-heavy transformation, Aloe’s shirt rises further, inching up towards her slim waist. The result is readily apparent: as the top continues up, her rump readily fills the leftover space. Unlike the hefty, hardly covered hips of the woman squirming underneath her, Aloe’s butt is bubbly, high, and tight. If one were to smack her rear, the result would be more of a quiver than a jiggle, but it’s a delightful and distracting thought all the same.

With thoughts of touches both soft and firm running through her head, Aloe misses the first three calls of her name, but eventually snaps back to reality as Prim gives her a knowing smirk. “Welcome back, Aloe; it seems like your mind was a little preoccupied.”

“You could say that was the case,” the blue-haired, bottom-heavy babe admits, giving a futile tug on the hem of her shirt out of habit. The tight fabric fails to even cover half of her backside now, leaving the tight globes on full display for the pleasure of her guests. And, from the way Prim is sizing her up that certainly seems to be the case now.

“Well, I suppose I can forgive you for not listening, considering,” Prim says with a gentle stretch. Her heavy lidded eyes droop a little as she smirks at Aloe. “And I probably already know the answer to this, but you work with a lot of different women every day. What type is your favorite?”

It only takes an instant for Aloe to forget her breathing. She takes several sharp, panicked breaths, wondering if her wandering mind had been found out. Forcing a smile, she attempts to squirm out of the situation with a non-committal, “I do not think of our guests like that; they are here for healing and relaxation, not my own-”

“Ugh, that’s so bland,” Prim sighs, shifting her legs and causing the sheet on her rump to ride up. A pale expanse of tremendous thigh and cheek is exposed to the world, leaving Aloe sweating as she tries to keep an eye on the pink-haired critic’s face while savoring the luscious curves on display. As though sensing her tension, Prim smiles. “I know you can’t feel at all the same about working on a twiggy woman and a round man, or even the opposite. So why don’t you just come out and say what your favorite type is?”

Aloe gulps, staring at Prim for a moment longer before looking across the room to Lavender for some sort of assistance. But the already heavily made up masseuse seems intrigued as well, her bulging chest heaving against the too-tight uniform top. The realization that she is the smallest woman in the room makes Aloe wilt a little, but even still her voice begins to slip out.

“Well, while we do agree to provide for anyone who is willing to pay, I would be lying to say I did not have preferences.” Hoping that will be enough, Aloe looks to Prim who smiles, nods, and then encourages her to continue with a small wave of her fingers. Aloe sighs, feeling her face run hot as she becomes acutely aware of the shirt’s snugness.

“Muscles are some of my favorite; sculpted and lean, or heavy and ripe, they are all so wonderful to take time to touch, explore, and indulge.” Placing a hand on Prim’s thigh, Aloe watches as a shiver of delight rolls up the woman’s spine. Seeing this reaction lightens her heart a little, helping her realize that even in a situation such as this, she is still in control of where things go. She can stop whenever she likes.

Dragging one long, beautifully manicured fingernail up the inside of her guest’s thigh, Aloe continues. “The hardness of a man or athlete is something to truly appreciate. But sometimes a measure of softness is necessary.”

Aloe’s breathing enters a much more enthused rhythm, quick but also deep. Some distant part of her can hear the buttons on her shirt struggling with a growing pressure behind them. Like a dam ready to rupture, there are obvious signs of stain as two soon-to-be obscene bulges press outward, utterly unimpeded by two layers of moderately thick fabric.

“So, I like it when we have someone who comes in, like you Miss Hemline.” Both women’s breaths are a little shaky and uncertain, but between Prim’s ghost of a grin, and Aloe’s stupendous smile, there’s no reason to stop. “Because there is just so very much for me to work with and touch.”

Shuddering, Aloe’s fingers slide over the barely-covered backside of her guest, earning a small grunt of pleasure from the older woman. Nestling her nail at the base of the giant fashionista’s spine, just above the cleft of her cheeks, Aloe sighs and closes her eyes. “You said a great deal about how envious you liked to make women.” The whole group ignores a few clattering pings as a handful of buttons snap off from Aloe’s top. “That it was part of your ideal to do so. But there’s another line of thought, Miss Hemline, one that I hope you will begin to pay attention to as well.”

Through a tremendous effort, Aloe rolls Prim over onto her back. The older woman looks up at the masseuse with an expectant smirk while Aloe’s eyes roam all over her curvaceous body. Half of the buttons on Aloe’s shirt are gone by this point, causing it to fall open in such a way that it shows a tremendous amount of cleavage; breasts begging to burst forth into the world. They aren’t model-worthy, in Prim’s mind, but they are large enough to register a desire inside of her. And so she acts.

“And what,” she begins with a knowing smile, “is it that those girls think of when they look at someone like me?”

“Worship.” The word pours out like slick syrup from Aloe’s foreign tongue. “A body as yours must be attended to; touched always, pampered forever.”

Prim lets loose a small, moaning laugh. “Mm, you’re so much like your mother; that’s why I like you, Aloe.” She pauses, thoughtful, and then continues, “So how about I let you take care of me, like your mother did.”

Raising an eyebrow, Aloe gives the lovely lady an uncertain look. “I can certainly provide you with some, release, but-”

“No, no,” Prim tuts with her tongue and motions Aloe closer. “Your mother had a certain way about her; let me tell you what I have in mind.”

Aloe leans in and places her ear next to Prim’s plump kissers. The words roll out so smoothly, entering into her ear and taking root in the fertile ground of her brain, that the reluctance of the old Aloe doesn’t even register. With her cheeks burning as pink as her sister’s hair, the masseuse bobs her head and makes her stumbling way towards the foot of the table.

Casting aside her top, entirely, she lets her heavy, head-sized breasts hang free. They show only a little bit of natural sag, tremendous teardrops ready to fall at a moment’s notice. Grabbing a bottle of massage oil, she slathers it over her chest and massages her now oily orbs with a fair amount of gasping, grinning, and groaning for show. Mostly.

When her nipples are good and hard, and her breasts gleam, even in the artificial light of the room, Aloe bends at her knees and begins to attend to Prim’s feet. Using only her breasts.

Despite her chest not being too excessively large, Aloe is more than capable of swallowing up at least a portion of the former designer’s foot at a time. And she has the enthusiasm to see the whole process through. Looking up at Prim with her now garish hot-pink eye shadow, Aloe happily realizes that this session will run over. And over, and over, and over, if she plays her cards right.

As the masseuse’s mammaries move, mauling more of Prim’s lower body, Aloe hopes that her sister is having just as much fun as she is.

===

“No more,” Twilight moans, doing her very best to bury her face in the table even as Lotus Blossom presses her chest into the young girl’s back again. “Please, please no more.”

“Oh dear, that will simply not do,” Lotus purrs, holding the harsher ‘s’ sounds perhaps a little longer that necessary. “A masseuse must aspire to drain her guest of all of their tension before she lets them go.”

“I can’t. Nothing left.” Twilight gives a gentle, pleading moan as she feels two stiff nipples tug against her orgasm-sensitive skin. “I’m going to break.”

“No, no, you will not break, but bend, like the putty.” Lotus wiggles forward, making sure to press as much of her body against Twilight as possible while she does. Finally reaching her ear, the plump-lipped tease whispers, “And I will be the sculptor who molds you into something that transcends beauty.”

While the words are obviously intended to be a sweet promise, even in her orgasmy haze, Twilight can pick out the malicious tone that resides in the background. This isn’t right. The Princess glances to her friend for help, but sees that there will be none coming, and further cementing how out of hand this entire situation has gotten.

“Mm, Bulk,” Rarity moans at the stripped-down student stands in front of her, standing monstrously erect and unmoving. The fashionable female giggles a little as she reaches out and prods his prodigious pecker with one of her fingers, making a happy sound as she does. Her eyes sparkle a little as she looks up at him with a mixture of humor and want. “I wasn’t aware I would get a sample so soon; you did promise that it would be tasty, yes?”

“O-Only the best, hot and fresh,” Bulk stumbles over his words, but gets through the tagline without too much trouble.

Rarity smiles, her touches becoming more insistent as the seconds pass. “Mm, I can’t wait.”

The perverse wrongness of the entire situation feeds into the kernel of panic nestled below Twilight’s belly. Coincidentally, it’s the same place where the pleasure of Lotus’ touch is focused, fully intent on crushing the little bit of resistance remains in the girl. And it’s working.

Every touch, every playful grope, and certainly every tender kiss encourages Twilight to fall further, deeper into the spell that has already permeated every inch of her. To indulge in endless pleasure simply by giving up her stubborn streak and become a vessel, a vector. A means by which to make everyone and everything just like her.

There should be no mistake made: Twilight loves her body, adores it even! Every inch of her body is sexually supercharged and ready to go at just the right touch. Becoming a beautiful bimbo, well, that seems a foregone conclusion at this point. So the fall should be easy.

But it isn’t. Because for all the increase in spacey moments, the priority shifts, the desire to touch, be touched, and manhandle, Twilight Sparkle is still Twilight Sparkle. Mildly obsessive, prone to micromanaging, occasionally hard-headed, and unwilling to be a doormat just because a spell wants her to be.

What kind of precedent would that set for the former Element of Magic and current Princess of Friendship to be so easily dominated by a spell?

The pressure of the magic pressing down on her fear, threatening to squash it out of existence, begins to increase in earnest at those unwelcome thoughts. Twilight can feel the anxious sensation stretching outwards, ever thinner, ready to snap, or pop, or tear, or whatever, in an instant. And then it would be gone, and so would she.

And, gradually, it began to dawn on her that the fear would be destroyed, regardless of what she did. In that case, why not try to dominate the spell until it submitted to her will? She knew it could be done, she’d seen it before. Heck, she’d done it herself! Albeit with the book, but still!

Closing her eyes, Twilight lets out a breath and focuses. The pleasure of having her muscles worked with one hand, while Lotus’ second sneaks up underneath and begins stroking at her snatch; it’s enough to drive any creature mad with desire. As she shudders her way towards a third orgasm, that little kernel of fear remains resolute, sending a very clear message even as the trembling begins again, and Twilight falls into an o-induced stupor.

Outright refusal of such an offer.

Once again, a week’s worth of backed up magic spills out of Twilight’s prone body and begins to spread. Not just the room. Not just the floor. The entire building hums with an electric sensation as it is dutifully marked and forever changed, along with nearly everyone and everything in it. And then the magic echoes outwards, slowly, steadily, with one point in mind.

===

Closer towards downtown, inside the reflective halls of Crystal Prep, the other Twilight Sparkle is hard at work, switching her attention between a computer and a chalkboard with a studious glare. She isn’t quite sure what she’s looking at yet, but the numbers all indicate that it’s something strong, powerful, and invasive.

“But it’s still just a book,” she grumbles to herself, resting her cheek on her knuckles. “No matter how much I examine it, regardless of the strange readings I get, it is still never anything more than a book.”

Casting her eyes over towards the glass case, Twilight sighs and shakes her head. It doesn’t make sense, any of it. By any measure, the book is the clue to figuring out what’s going on, but…

As she’s turning away, Twilight notices a strange pink glow coming from the book itself. Curious, she moves closer, leaning over and turning on her instruments again. They whirr to life, processing and refining all manner of data for however brief this instance is. But, the light sustains itself. Her natural curiosity getting the better of her, Twilight leans close to the book, her gaze gradually shifting to one of longing.

If she really wanted to know, the student supposes, she could simply open the book. Who cares if she had thought that might be a bad idea at one point? What really matters is the here and now. And the book- she, she wants to open the book.

Reaching into the case, Twilight feels a steady heat coming off the spine of the tome. It glows, hungry to be touched. Holding her breath, Twilight’s fingers press against the spine.

And that’s when the wave hits from across town.

As though the world itself were snapping back to a normal state, the book’s glow stops immediately, the readouts cease, and Twilight feels her head begins to clear. She quickly jerks he hand back with a gasp, “What was I doing?”

Quietly cursing herself for almost breaking quarantine, the Crystal Prep student seals the box again and hurries back to her work. Either through a desire to get away, or a complete lack of awareness, she fails to notice the purple polish on her slightly longer nails, or how her button-down uniform top sits snuggly across her modest bust.

“I need to go out in the field,” she mutters to herself after looking over the data again. “I have to see what’s going on at CHS.”

===

“Miss Sparkle?” a distant voice echoes in between her ears.

Twilight groans.

It comes again, more insistent this time, “Miss Sparkle?”

“Five more minutes…”

“Twilight!” Rarity snaps, dragging the bimbo out of her daze and back into an articulate state.

“Hn?” Well, mostly articulate anyway. Rarity is kneeling beside her, concern etched on the pale girl’s pretty features. “Rarity?”

“Oh, thank heavens you’re back with us,” the fashionable girl says with a small chuckle. “Bulk was insisting we break out the smelling salts, but I simply wouldn’t have it. This is supposed to be a pleasurable visit to the spa, not a rude awakening!”

“What, happened?” the Princess grumbles, still feeling a little woozy from the repeated orgasms.

“I believe the term is, screwed silly?” a rather demure looking Lotus Blossom offers with a smile. “My sincere apologies Miss Sparkle; I had only intended to turn your muscles to mush, and not your brain.”

“Yeah, okay,” the still dazed girl nods, trying to gather her wits and gauge how much control she still had over herself. Lotus was a prime target in that regard, with her not-too excessive curves, but pleasingly large breasts, she was certainly attractive and made Twilight’s belly shudder. But she didn’t feel drawn to act on her. Heaving a sigh of relief, the teenage Princess smiles. “Well, my body does feel relaxed.”

“Very good!” Lotus bobs her head in excitement. “Then as we have finished with your massage, you are ready for your feet to be pampered as well, yes?”

“We simply can’t wait! Thank you both so much for your assistance today; it was truly a delightful experience,” Rarity giggles, helping her friend to her feet. Twilight gropes around for her towel, but it simply isn’t there. And Rarity seems quite content to drag her out into the hall in the nude.

“Rarity, please, I’m not decent,” Twilight whines as the door swings open.

Thankfully there’s no one on the other side, or even out in the hall itself, but Rarity gives her a cheerful smile anyway. “Oh come now Twilight, there’s nothing to be ashamed of; you have a wonderful body and it will surely be appreciated here. Now, come along, we will need to get dressed before going to the salon.”

As her friend prances down the hall like some kind of nude spa nymph, Twilight does her best to stay behind the excited girl. From the other rooms, she can hear the tell-tale moans and groans of delight, and she shudders, wondering just how much has changed. She doesn’t have to wait long to see.

The elevator, once a creaking, shaky affair, is now smooth, silent, stainless and sensual, with soft pink, blue, and red hues accompanying gentle, sexually-charged soft music. The basement is fully finished, with plush carpeting in the locker rooms, and delicate tile work everywhere else. Even the ceiling is a more welcoming off-white, and the rattling pipes hidden from view.

“Hello guests!” a familiar voice calls out, a purple ponytail bobbing along as Vera bounces into view. Twilight can only smile as she sees that the girl is dressed in a fetishistic version of her old uniform, inadequate coverage over her plump backside, buttons partially undone to show off a more than reasonable amount of cleavage, and her body language oozing a genuine, carnal desire. “Did you enjoy your massage?”

“Oh, did we ever, my dear,” Rarity chuckles, giving Twilight a smirk. “This one actually passed out she enjoyed it so much.”

“Then my cousins have done an excellent job,” the young masseuse smiles, bowing her head. “I hope this isn’t the last time we see you; I would love to serve you at some point.”

Rarity smiles and walks up to the girl. Raising her chin with her thumb and forefinger, the sluttified seamstress purrs, “Believe me, darling, I have a feeling that my trips are going to become much more, frequent.”

“I look forward to it.”

“Okay, ha, ha!” Twilight laughs, quickly pulling the two apart before they get lost in one another’s eyes. “Well, as nice as it was to see you again Vera, we still have to get ready for our pedicures, right Rarity?”

“Goodness, you’re exactly right! Until next time, dear,” Rarity says with a wave of her fingers before being pushed by the now-dressed Twilight back towards the ground floor. “She’s such a sweetheart; I can’t wait until I get a chance to sample her.”

“Yes, yes, we’ve gone over this already,” Twilight grumbles, leading her friend to a seat and then taking up a post beside her. “This wasn’t as nearly as relaxing as I had hoped.”

Frowning, Rarity gives a gentle sigh and leans in close, patting the girl’s arm. “I am very sorry to hear that dear, I had hoped that a change of pace might be nice; give you a fresh perspective and all of that.”

“Yeah, well, all it really did is land me in a spa full of eager to please sluts.”

There’s a lengthy silence before Rarity turns to Twilight and asks, quite innocently, “Twilight, whatever do you mean?”

Offering a confused grin Twilight raises a finger and swirls it makes a circle beside hr head. “Oh come on, Rarity; you can’t tell me that you haven’t noticed how, how sexually charged this place has become. It even looks entirely different than when we came in!”

“Ah.” The small sound is all that Rarity can offer, though her brow furrows in obvious distress. Pressing her plump lips together, she remains quiet for a few seconds more before looking back to the Princess of Friendship. “Twilight? I, ah, I’m afraid I have no idea what on earth you are talking about.”

The otherworldly visitor turns with a frown. “That’s not funny.”

“Oh, no, I realize that.” Rarity’s words hang in the air for a long while. “However, it is also true. Please, tell me what you mean.”

“This spa, the fact that it’s completely different than when we walked in, how everything has changed? I’m responsible for this!”

Despite Twilight’s insistence, the fashionista shakes her head. “No, dear, I’m afraid that this has always been my pleasant little hideaway. The staff is beautiful, attentive, and understands that a young, attractive woman such as myself has needs, and aspires to indulge them.”

“But-” the complaint dies on Twilight’s lips as Roxie approaches them with a smile.

“Ms. Rarity; it looks like you and your friend had an enjoyable experience.” The receptionist fixes the foreign Princess with a curious look, “Although, it looks like you’re getting worked up again for some reason.”

Twilight doesn’t say anything and stares at Roxie for a while longer. Already one of the tallest members of the staff, her upswept, thick and punky hairstyle adds even more height to her impressive stature. A long, in addition to her usual ear piercings, she has also adopted another that covers the top of the curvature of her ear with a meshwork metal, with floral and greenery designs littered throughout. Her curves are as impressive as her coworkers, though perhaps lacking the same impact due to her height.

It doesn’t take too long for Rarity to cut back in. “She is still a little tense, Roxie, dear; but I’m sure nothing that a little additional pampering won’t work out.”

The beautician nods, and then motions over a blond headed man who kneels in front of Twilight and begins attending to her feet, while Roxie does the same for Rarity. The purple-haired guest rolls her shoulders and makes small, delighted sounds as her feet are worked over and, Twilight has to admit, that the gentleman taking care of her certainly knows what he’s doing as well. She’s just beginning to slip into the moment, when Rarity speaks to her again.

“Twilight, I know you’re concerned about what you believe happened today. But I want to assure you that I am not.” The two bimbo’s eyes meet, and Rarity flashes a genuine smile. “I’ve considered how you described this spa, and set them against one another. My conclusion is that, regardless of how you might feel about being here, I want to assure you that you made the correct choice.” Curling her toes, she gasps a little as Roxie works a particularly sensitive spot on the arch of her foot. “I honestly could not imagine a better place to spend an afternoon than here.”

The two beauticians look at one another, clearly confused by the teen’s apparent rambling. On the other hand, Twilight can only wrap herself up in the comfort of her friend’s words. Yes, things had changed. Yes, at this point Rarity isn’t even aware that this had once been a more puritan establishment. Yes, Twilight had managed to work up enough magical power to make all of this possible by herself, without the assistance of the book.

And slowly the pieces begin to fall into place.

Rarity’s obliviousness mirrored that of the Principals earlier in the day; they had been blissfully unaware of changes that had occurred to people like the Cakes, who had never stepped foot in CHS. Could it be that their vision is somehow limited to what occurs within the walls of the building?

Twilight’s hips buck a little as the man attending to her feet finds a particularly sore spot and smoothes it out. The soft grunt breaks her train of thought, but only for a moment, and then she’s back on track.

If that is the case, and even Rarity and the Principals can be made to believe that things have always been a certain way, could this also extend to others? If she changed the relationships that her neighbors have with one another, would Twilight’s own family believe things had always been that way? If so, could she find a way to entrap Sunset Shimmer in a world of increasing sexual tension and beautiful, slutty, hunky bodies, and have her believe that the situation is normal? And if that were the case, could she find a way to convince Sunset that everything is as it should be?

Could she coerce the redhead into sending her home?

Twilight shudders again, both from touch and at the thought of corrupting the bad-turned-goody-goody ponygirl into a naughty version of herself, and having her do it of her own volition. Yes, that was certainly the way to go, Twilight thinks to herself, biting her lip as her eyes roll back and her heavy eyelids close.

It would take a fair amount of research, trial and error in order to be certain. But if she could, then perhaps she doesn’t need to go through or along with the Principals, but around them. Perhaps she can take not just Canterlot High School and turn it into a peaceful, if slutty, paradise, but the entire city as well. Perhaps, most importantly, home isn’t as far away as she believes.

Sinking deep into her chair, Twilight finally allows herself to fully relax; to soak in the atmosphere and enjoy the pleasure of having her toes tickled. She has a checklist forming in the back of her orgasm-fried-out mind to lead her to her ultimate goals and that is more than she can say for how her life has been lately.

It feels so good to get your life back on track.