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A Pony's Inflation

Part One

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by anonymous

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Arctic groaned, swaying on his stomach, rolling back and forth, his belly heavily bloated with milk, though he had the hose back between his lips, suckling lightly, wanting more even as his mistress stood over him. Even though he was larger than her as a normal pegasus stallion, Fluttershy had a way about her that made him seem impossibly small and weak, nothing at all at her hooves. He was her pet, completely and utterly, the collar and tag around his neck showing that quite clearly, although even the most devoted of pets were liable to slip up from time to time.

"You're in big trouble."

No "pet". Arctic flinched, eyes closed. That was bad, that was so very bad, but he was so fat and grossly inflated still that he could not help himself, the pressure rising and rising on his stomach as he moaned, wanting it all but needing it to be teased out of him again, a fat length of stallion-meat pressed up to the underside of his heaving stomach, larger than what any normal, self-respecting mare could take. Yet Fluttershy had risen to the challenge of it, something that she could yearn for time after time again, though she controlled him so fully that she could have him any time she liked, even though she very rarely allowed him to orgasm. That was just one of many, many things that made the transgression of his climaxing without permission so heinous.

Arctic groaned. Maybe she'd set him up to fail in sending him out to the farm to take on extra work, the dairy sector needing more assistance than their stable hoofs could handle in the busiest of times. He wouldn't have been surprised but that may have just been his over-active imagination at work, attributing reasoning to things that really didn't need to be reasoned with. His stomach churned and he moaned again, letting go of the hose even though he could not meet her eyes, the small, yellow pegasus with a softly flowing curve of a pink mane that could have stopped the heart of many a stallion.

"Look at me."

He couldn't. But he had to. His mistress finding him as large as the room where the main milk tank was stored, bursting at the seams and rolling in a pool of his own cum, was embarrassing enough but Arctic knew well enough what Mistress Shy would do to him. He had cum without her permission and that was a transgression that she absolutely could not possibly allow to slide.

"I'll have to punish you."

Her tone was sinuous like a vine weaving around him or maybe even the hose around his neck, breath coming with great difficulty - and that wasn't just from the weight of his stomach pressing down on his orgasm, tightening around his lungs. The sheer volume of milk that he'd greedily guzzled down, losing himself in the passion of it all, the kinky delight taken on his own terms, bloated him out so that his legs stuck out in funny directions, tail wiggling and waving somewhere up in the corner of the room.

Wait, what was that about a punishment? Should he have been listening to that? Arctic could not see much, groaning mutely, knowing that there was no point in saying anything at all. His stomach gurgled and he moaned out loudly, lips parting and closing over and over again, though there was no point at all in stating just how uncomfortable his hugely bloated belly made him, hind end wiggling and waving as Fluttershy turned him down a little, his face pointing up while his back end dropped. That should have been the biggest clue for him as to what was coming next but, still licking the remnants of milk from his lips, Arctic was a fool to ignore what his gut told him.

Of course, the punishment was coming and Arctic would not anticipate that eagerly at all as Fluttershy took a step back, all fours hooves moving, levelling and toying with the bullwhip between her front hooves. Whether in her hooves, aided by earth pony dexterity, or in her mouth, it was a formidable tool at the best of times and this one was the worst of it as she frowned darkly. To have a pet that went and got off without her permission was an abomination and, oh, she simply would not stand for it!

Maybe a little bit of Rarity was rubbing off on her.

"Don't cry, pet," she said with a sadistic smile that he did not see, levelling the bullwhip at the perfect height. "You do know how I hate that and it'll only earn you...extra."

His ears pricked. Extra? Wings flapping, instinct took over and he fought to get away but he had locked himself neatly in place, his stomach proving better bondage than any ropes or cuffs ever could have. Although he was not as large as he had been when he had been at the peak of guzzling down the milk like a drinking-slut, he could just about wiggle his legs though they were nowhere near reaching the floor, his mistress handling his huge belly as deftly as she would a much larger creature, one of the animals, perhaps, in her care.

There was nothing caring however about the hiss of the whip flying through the air, a sound that he knew all too well, squealing even before it connected with his backside. It was not the largest of targets right there and then but her aim rang true and he howled out brokenly, head hanging, trying to retain some sense of himself as pain exploded. The problem with a bullwhip was that it gave him too much time to think about the next strike, Fluttershy needing to fling it back and then throw it forward, cracking it at just the right moment to strike him. It took finesse to bring such a sense of art to the forefront of everything, much less in the heat of sordidly kinky passion, but his mistress had that all in spades, eyes narrowed in dark concentration.

That was no comfort to Arctic, however, as he heaved and panted, sweating up instantly as his flanks darkened, the patch between his legs foaming with a thicker swathe of sweat. As much as he squirmed, he could not cool down enough to be comfortable, each and every last of the bullwhip bringing a fresh rise of heat and screaming pain to his body. Calming down right there and then simply was not in the realm of possibility and all he could do was try to forget how it made his balls ache all the more strongly. No matter how many times he got off, he was always needy for her, regardless of the fact that neither whips nor pain play had ever been his "thing". It was a punishment well and truly, screams and squeals breaking from his lips, but his body had been conditioned too, day in and day out in her service, to react sexually, and thus his cock throbbed as if his body thought it was going to get a reward rather than the continuing punishment.

Fluttershy grunted and shook her head, setting the whip aside with greater care than she treated her pet. His belly was too big, the greedy slut-pony, wobbling and shifting all over the place. Her strikes were not even in a straight line! But she had something to help with that, even though she had hoped to keep her pony-pet fat and wobbling on a grossly inflated and distended stomach for at least a little while longer. Maybe that, however, would come back in time if she had her way about it. And Mistress Shy always got her way.

"Here."

She forced his head up and tipped the potion into his mouth without ceremony, rubbing his throat to make sure that he swallowed too. Treating him as dispassionately as she would an object, Fluttershy pursed her lips and stepped back, Arctic's stomach churning, sinking, slipping down and down and down until it was a little more manageable. The spell that the potion triggered must have been something to reduce the effect of over-indulgence, he thought dimly, his backside stinging, though that was nothing in comparison to what was to come still, knowing that she most certainly was not giving him the potion out of the goodness of her heart by any means.

Glaring, she jerked her head.

"Stand and present!"

He could only obey, sobbing and turning his back end to her, knowing what was coming next. His ears and wings drooped sadly to be so punished, belly pushing him up onto the tips of his hooves, but there was nothing else at all for Arctic to do but bear through her wrath, knowing too that his mistress enjoyed it. If he thought about that, maybe the pain would not be so much, squeezing tears from the corners of his eyes as his conditioned and well-trained body reacted, cock throbbing, oozing out drop after drop of thickly luscious pre-cum that, as always, was set to go to waste.

"You can scream all you like, pet, but you know you have to take it. Be a good pony now and stand for me, won't you?"

It was all a play on control, Fluttershy commanding him with a sugary-sweet tone that Arctic could not help but obey, his pale coat showing up the strikes of the lashes nicely, although the welts did not break through to bleed. No, his mistress knew more than well enough just how to cause enough pain to keep him on the edge for a long, long time and, of course, without causing permanent injury either. She'd said something about liking how well his body healed up afterwards and there were always plenty of potions from Zecora too to make sure that his body was always primed for a beating, if so required.

It was not only the bullwhip that she'd brought, tiring of using that tool and cradling a specially designed paddle in her hoof, a loop and cuff around her fetlock ensuring that it stayed in place. That was a wider, flatter striking surface and Arctic howled as it cracked down over several welts at once, turning their presence into a sharp burst of pain that ripped through him like nothing else had ever before.

"So much profit wasted, pet," she hissed. "So much loss. Do you know what you've done?"

For it may have been kinky to find him as she had, grossly bloated, fat and heavy, but there were the practicalities to consider too. She'd sent him down to the farm to make money and do a job - not satisfy his desires! Such a transgression could not be passed over without the proper gravity attributed to it as she paddled his backside and the backs of his legs, though not lower than the hocks, to cover the greatest area possible. It rendered him raw and ready, too sensitive for the more that she would give him anyway, for the next round, finally taking the flogger with multiple, braided tails in her mouth, a smirk almost making it impossible to hold the implement.

That could be wielded deftly and Arctic knew exactly what she had changed to as the tails wrapped skilfully around his hind end, stinging the sides of his hips. It was a bite like nothing else and he stamped and howled, the pegasus pony's wings hanging with the sheer force of will that it took to keep himself upright right there and then. He had to bear through it, stay steadfast, take his punishment, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes and rolling down his cheeks, the weight of what he had done crashing over him. It was wrong, so very wrong, and it was up to his mistress to show him just how wrong, the gravity of it bearing down and down and down, his soul gasping and contorting for air.

It was easy to blur out the pain after a while, breathing hard and heavy, trying his very best not to shift his weight around too much. He had to stay still, even had to keep his tail flagged for her command, all so that it was easier for her to beat him, to punish him, to break him down once more into an even better of the loyal pet that she loved too, in her own way. Mistress Shy giggled wickedly and he braced a moment before the lashes struck true, cracking across his overly sensitive tail hole as she ripped a shrill shriek from his lips, that pain fresh and sharp and blisteringly searing, cutting through to the quick of his being.

Harder though was the necessity of ignoring his throbbing cock, balls aching and churning, only producing more and more cum with the tenacity of orgasm. Usually, she locked a ring around his cock or some other contraption that meant that he was forced through climax after climax with his seed either flowing back into his body via his mouth or tail hole or simply backed right up into his nuts, forcing them to inflate as grossly and hugely as his stomach had. To cum freely was a freedom not afforded to submissive pony-pets like him and Arctic panted heavily, wings fluttering, straining to bear through, the strange edge of pain and pleasure driving his cock to pound and pulse as if he was on the edge of orgasm right there and then. The strain of his stomach didn't help any either, though the milk had to go somewhere and, truly, his bladder had been more than a little full for a while, as much as he held the need to "go" back.

He blinked dully, lifting his head, breath rasping through his throat, scraping at his lungs. The pain was still there but it wasn't as "bad" as it had been, lingering and burning, the rising welts feeling quite as if they were searing through his back end to his innards. Yet they would heal as they had every time before and he had nothing at all to worry about when it came to longer-lasting injuries from his mistress, for Fluttershy knew better than anyone else in Ponyville how to best look after him at all times.

"There now, pet..."

She soothed him gently, a lighter edge to their relationship coming into play as he gulped and whimpered and did all he could to hold back his shops. The end of punishment was almost as bad as going through it to begin with, though Mistress Shy was far from merciless, caring for him in her own way, her own _special_way, as some ponies may have put it when they did not understand the nuances of such power play relationships. Fluttershy stroked his mane and encouraged him to lean into her, though there was still more work to do on the farm, while she had not quite anticipated needing to punish him while she had only been out there checking in on his work.

"You have a lot to get done. Are you up to the task, pet?" She asked him seriously, tipping his muzzle so that he was forced to look her in the eyes, as much as that terrified him. "Will you please me? Will you be a good pony-pet for your mistress?"

Yes, oh, yes, oh, yes! The words flowed from his lips in a garbled babble, the submissive, broken stallion throwing himself on the ground at her hooves. He kissed them over and over, nuzzling against her, his cock throbbing up against his stomach but all but forgotten in the pleasure of being right there where he belonged, even the background tease of lingering pain flaring up in such a way that it only made him feel lower than ever before in the best of ways. She stood over him, the goddess and mistress of his life, the tag at his throat weighing more heavily than ever, reminding him of his place in life and at her hooves, always and forever, without any question in the matter.

Above him, Fluttershy smiled, brushing his forelock from his face with one tender hoof. That was better. And he looked better still with the red, glaring welts marking his backside, tail still flagged luxuriously for her attention to expose the thickly puckered bud of his tail hole where it was tucked up close beneath the velvety dock. She shivered. Maybe she would make use of that a little later...

"Now, you'll need to tend to the animals here," she said sternly, nodding out the door. "The barn is next to the milking parlour and some of the cows have their own stables too. They prefer their privacy and this farm caters for everyone and their individual needs. You must pay attention to them, pet, or I will be _sorely_disappointed with you. Do you want to make me disappointed?"

Not trusting himself to speak, he shook his head quickly, hooves skittering on the floor, head hanging. She smiled.

"Better... But not your best. See that you get started there. There's all that you've broken and let whip about in the milking parlour too to sanitise when you have the animal care in hoof, so do not let me catch you slacking off when there's so much left to do."

Arctic wasted not a moment more of time, her time being more valuable, most certainly, than his had ever been. Swallowing hard, the stallion did his best to trot from the milk storage shed at a brisk clip but the welts throbbed deep, affecting the muscle beneath the surface, and it was hard to pick up his hind hooves without dragging his toes, blue tail flying behind as she watched him leave. He could only imagine what she was thinking of doing to his hind end at that very moment in time and the thought of what his mistress could and would do to him at the drop of a hat filled him with equal amounts trepidation and anticipation, neither one overruling the other.

The barn shimmered softly in a golden ray of sunlight teasing through the skylights between the rafters, motes of dust swirling in a natural glow. Musty and sweet with animal odours and straw, it was where the cows could come to rest out of the glare of sunshine and get away from the flies, relaxing and conversing, their only obligation to the farm being the milk that they exchanged for comfort and somewhere where they could call home. It was not a bad trade in the slightest, although he knew too that there were some cows closer to home back in Ponyville that lived like ponies did, although they had the trouble of needing to be milked more often too, their bodies naturally producing it whether or not they had had a calf or not. Such was the magic of Equestria but it at least meant that the relationship between pony and creature, in that case, was intact and mutually beneficial in the simplest and easiest of ways.

Some of the cows tittered and eyed him up as if they had known what had happened to him. But, of course - his welts! They had risen on his hind end well and truly, even though Arctic did not dare crane his neck to see just how bad they were. The pain was enough, coursing through his muscles with every step, a little catch in his breath showing quite clearly how he had to expend more effort simply to move. Still, he had a job to do and had to hold his head high through it all, showing in no uncertain terms that he was more than proud to be her pet regardless of any punishment that he deserved at her hooves.

"Your mistress show you what for then?" A black cow giggled, winking at him cheekily, her long lashes fluttering. "Mooo_ooo_! She must have really got you good there, dearie!"

Arctic smiled politely, despite how his cheeks burned. He may have been snarkier and cheekier at other times but having his mistress on-site at the farm with him made him want to behave all the better for her, tail clamped down to protect what little modesty he had left as he trotted along the line of feed troughs. Those seemed like the obvious choice to replenish first of all, though it was a little more difficult to move still as the potion continued working through his system, shrinking his belly but not able, it seemed, to get it back to its normal size. Without adding chub to his hind end or any other part of his body, his stomach bloated out, wobbling with every step as if he was pregnant with far more than a single foal, demonstrating his greed in the most visceral of visual manners.

There...

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Grain. That was what the cows liked in their barn and he made sure that the troughs were full to the brim, some of the bovines murmuring their quiet appreciation to him as they lipped and picked through the grain for the choicest bits. The water troughs gave him pause, though the cows were quite good at ensuring that those were topped up as they pleased, the farmhands simply there to serve as a sort of fresh food delivery service as and when needed. It was not, after all, that the grain troughs would ever run dry but the cows had several requests that they wanted brought to them the following day while he went to the shopping district for them, market stalls only having half of what they wanted.

"Fresh oats!"

"Oooh - and barley!"

"Add a copy of "Moo Daily" to the list, dearie."

"A bag of apples."

"A parasol for the field, pony, from Rarity's boutique."

The farm had a budget for providing for their needs but Arctic was not quite sure that covered wares from Rarity's boutique, despite that he was not at all against going there. The mare had gotten him bound and broken on his knees on more than one occasion, sending a shudder of trepidation through him, the taste of her rising to his lips even then. As a unicorn, Rarity was the most capable of wielding tools of pain and impact play and, well, that was not often a very good thing for Arctic as she borrowed him too from time to time to act as a fetish model for her "after dark" lines of attire, best showing off all that she had to supply to the horny masses.

Regardless, he would try to get all that the cows needed within his ability, moving on to check that the lights worked for them, that they had enough bedding of their chosen materials, whether straw or blankets or whatever they desired, that was fresh and clean. Replenishing the banks of straw where the cows lay down communally was easy and they mooed their appreciation as he made them higher than before, ensuring that they always had somewhere soft to rest their heads, although the stallion would not have personally have wanted to lie down in straw for any length of time.

There were parts of the barn that needed clearing out too, less pleasant chores, but the cows were as intelligent as ponies, of course, relieving themselves in designated toileting areas that were accessed through another door of the barn, set away so that they could maintain their dignity and be allowed the privacy of such creatures. Of course, the less intelligent but still wickedly smart critters such as chickens and pigs needed looking after too, their lack of speech not holding them back even in the smallest of ways from getting their needs across to him. Cleaning the chicken coops (protection from foxes more than to keep them locked in and prisoner) was not an activity that he enjoyed but he dragged the wheelbarrow down with a harness locked around his waist, the collar of the yoke around his neck ensuring that it did not slip back out of place.

Strange...

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Arctic rolled his shoulders back, mane clinging to the less than proud arch of his neck with sweat, though he had picked up more than enough dirt on his coat too, hooves so filthy that he didn't doubt that Rarity would screech and faint if she saw him. Muddy and grimy, he was a true farm-pony, laughing at himself even as he refreshed the nesting areas for the chickens and checked for eggs, gathering them all up in a second basket as he'd been told too. Holding it in his mouth was not the easiest of tasks when he was also hauling a barrow and he picked up more crud in his coat as he leaned into his task. The wicker of the basket tasted funny but it was not a taste that he could put his hoof on in any way, trying to shake it off and not think about it, even though that was difficult enough as he tried to work through the tried and tested tasks as quickly as possible.

On to the milking parlour, he flinched and winced at the mess he'd left behind, even though every cow had been milked. He could not honestly regret guzzling down so much milk though he did feel bad, as Fluttershy had impressed on him, about the loss of profit that would result from it, even though Fluttershy would surely hire him out again in some way to make up for that. Whereas he didn't quite know what or how to feel about his body being a saleable commodity to kinkier ponies, he knew that a wrong would be righted one way or another.

It was a big job, hoses hanging down and the milking machines not even in a straight line, the stocks knocked over where the cows could slip in to be milked, milk trickles on the floor too that would need to be cleaned up before the heat of the day brought them to a reek. Arctic wrinkled his muzzle, though it did not seem necessary as yet to clean himself off with the sheer amount of cleaning and sanitising he had to do, starting with the machines that would be needed first as he set some of the stalls up along the way too. The whole floor could be hosed off afterwards with sanitising solution, he reasoned with himself, as that, at least, would make his job a little easier in that regard.

It was tedious work but he should have known that Fluttershy would not have accepted anything else after she had found, clearly, of the destruction of his inflating accident in there. She did not know that it had been an accident and had not asked the question of him either but he knew his mistress was more than smart enough to duly make the punishment fit the crime, whether or not he thought he was responsible for that one.

Slow work, hard work: Arctic's back ached as the pegasus stretched out his wings, flapping them to release tension. It was a big parlour and a lot of work for one stallion to take on but it was not as if he could stop the job when he was in the middle of it. Fluttershy would surely have him working late into the night if a job needed to be done and he was not about to complain when it was, indeed, him that had created the mess. Working his way down the line, he laid the hoses out to dry as he went, perfectly clean for the next cows to use. Yet he did not know that that time was coming up more quickly than he'd thought, one milking a day nowhere near enough for the productive nature of the dairy cows...

"Moo..."

To be continued in part three...