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Little Nightmares

By One-Of-Three-Names
Created: 2024-11-17 19:36:12
Expiry: Never

  1. Finally.
  2.  
  3. More than a thousand years it had taken. More than a THOUSAND YEARS of jumping from host to host. Of all places, you had to end up in magical horse land where the most powerful beings alive take centuries upon centuries to sate you. Ridiculous. Absurd. Yet again the downsides to dimensional drifting show themselves. You should have listened to your mother and just stayed at home until a naive sorcerer or something was foolish enough to summon you. You suppose you should be thankful you didn't end up in NON-magical horse land. Who knows how many eons you might have been stuck. Oh well. You've finally collected all the magical energy that you need to accomplish your goal as a parasite. Now all you need is a little bit of 'physical' energy. Time to wake the host.
  4.  
  5.  
  6. ***
  7.  
  8.  
  9. You awake with a sudden start, raising your head with urgency. It takes you a moment to regain your bearings and recall where exactly you are. You blink, clearing your vision and your mind as your memories kick themselves back into single file. As your surroundings become crisp and clear and your memories more coherent, you smile. Time to begin yet another lovely day as The most beautiful Queen of Equestria.
  10.  
  11. You rise to your hooves, letting out a yawn of astonishing grace. You're sure that had your crowd of adoring admirers been here, they would have been awestruck by your poetry of motion. Instead, you see Spike scurrying up the staircase towards your refurbished throne. On the red carpet.
  12.  
  13. "Spike! You loathsome rat!" You hiss, your pupils narrowing dangerously as they exude as much malice as you can muster towards the little dragon.
  14.  
  15. He cringes, immediately realizing his mistake and jumping off the royal walkway. "Sorry Miss Rarit- I mean, your grace. Most wonderful ruler." He bows low as he finishes crossing the remaining distance.
  16.  
  17. You continue to glare for a moment, then relax. You simply could not stay angry at such an obedient and adoring servant. Only Spike has ever truly understood the enormity of your perfection. You remind yourself why you allowed he alone to stay and tend to your needs these past several years. He was yours even back before your friends saw reason, when they still called you 'Nightmare Rarity'. What silly notions they had back then.
  18.  
  19. You turn away from him, and step over to your dressing area, already planning your days attire. This was so much more convenient than having to tromp your way through the entire castle just to dress yourself. Putting everything you needed into the throne room was such a stroke of brilliance. You tried having servants bring your clothes to you, but that was simply a disaster. At least it taught you a valuable lesson though: only you are qualified to dress yourself.
  20.  
  21. Yes, this is much better. It's like having your own studio boutique! Like the one you always dreamed about having if you ever moved to Manehattan.
  22.  
  23. "We're having a ball today." You mention, casually.
  24.  
  25. "Another one?" Spike groans.
  26.  
  27. "Of course! Don't be silly!" You exclaim, ignoring his disrespectful tone. "What sort of Queen would I be if I didn't hold at LEAST two grand balls every month?"
  28.  
  29. "Yeah but, isn't the point of balls to... Well, you know. Entertain?" Spike continues, sounding exasperated.
  30.  
  31. "Spike dear, do you want to spend another night in the diamond dog pits?" you say casually, levitating several different dresses about, unsure what to try first.
  32.  
  33. "N-no. Your majesty," he stutters the proper amount of respect in his voice now.
  34.  
  35. "Good boy," you reply, sweetly.
  36.  
  37. The next few minutes are silent, and you finally decide what to wear. It takes only moments to put the dress on, as your skill with clothing is obviously unmatched.
  38.  
  39. Spike's expression when you step out from behind the dressing curtain is always priceless. You pose regally as his wide eyes oggle you. "What do you think?"
  40.  
  41. "Its... Its-" Spike fumbles for words.
  42.  
  43. You smile, not waiting for a real response as you walk past him. You always judge your outfits based on their ability to render Spike speechless. "Come darling, the ball is about to begin~"
  44.  
  45.  
  46.  
  47. You have a simply wonderful time, indulging yourself in all your most favorite activities. You gossip about the latest trends and nobles, dance to wonderful music, sing songs, and even have a fashion show; showing exclusively your most special wares. Ones that you haven't shown to a single other soul. Overall, it is most definitely your best royal ball yet. Much better than the first ones. Ugh, you're very glad that Pinkie was only ever permitted to come to the first one.
  48.  
  49. Things are starting to wind down, and Spike enters the room at the most opportune time. You smile and wait patiently and ladylike as he wheels the feast over. "Spike, my most loyal servant. You're just in time. Our guests are ravenous!"
  50.  
  51. Spike huffs, catching his breath as he pulls the cart to a halt beside the grand table. He glances around the empty ballroom and at all the vacant seats. "But there are no guests Miss Rarity," he states, looking and sounding like the brutish oaf he is.
  52.  
  53. You roll your eyes. "Of course there are no guests, you stupid reptile. What kind of EXCLUSIVE royal ball would this be if I invited just anyone? Hmm?" You chuckle and levitate a cup of tea from Spike's cart. Silly dragon.
  54.  
  55. He stares at you for a moment, looking depressed. It makes you uncomfortable. He does this a lot lately. What could be wrong with him? He's probably hungry. You set down your tea and smile at him. "Oh Spike. I just cant bear to see you sad. If you like, you may have our leftovers?"
  56.  
  57. He averts his eyes, and begins serving the nearly empty table, placing a plate of steaming hot food in front of every seat. He spent all day making these for your and your guests. After all, it's not as if you're going to let some random strange ponies make your meals for you. You pick something that you're in the mood for, and begin to daintily dine; savoring every bite.
  58.  
  59. A few minutes pass, and you've already cleaned your plate. You smile at Spike, wiping your face clean with a napkin. "Thank you for yet another wonderful dish, dear," you say, as any proper lady would. You're about to start ordering him to begin cleaning up, when an unexpected thing happens.
  60.  
  61. A small growl emanates from your middle.
  62.  
  63. You pause, hoof half raised. How strange. On most nights a single plate is more than enough to satisfy your hunger. You blink, pondering. Would it really hurt to have some more? Tonight IS a special night after all; the night of your most successful ball yet. And Spike did make all this wonderful food just for you. Would it really be such a shame to have seconds?
  64.  
  65. Without another word, you pull a second meal in front of you, and begin to eat. It tastes lovely, much more lovely than you remember. Why didn't anyone tell you that food was so delicious? You must explore this new avenue of senses! Having thirds is a little unladylike, but you think you can afford to indulge a little. Just this once.
  66.  
  67. Minutes tick by. Ten, twenty, thirty. You lose yourself in the dazzling array of flavors, sampling dish after dish. You stop worrying about how much you've eaten. You are the queen of Equestria! You can eat as much as you like!
  68.  
  69. It's not until the sound of popping threads assaults your ears that you finally pause, ears swiveling. You turn your head downward, and your eyes widen as they see what you've become. You've eaten so much that your belly has begun to bulge out. Not just towards the floor, but outwards to either side as well. Your snugly fit dress was simply not made to take such a strain, and it's begun to split along its sides. You swallow your mouthful of food, and this turns out to be the straw that broke the camel's back.
  70.  
  71. With an earsplitting 'RRRRRIIIIIP', your dress bursts open. Your belly is finally free of its bonds, and it sags down, taught and overpacked with food. You almost look as if you've begun to show with foal. You stare for a few long seconds, pondering this odd turn of events. You feel as if you should be horrified by this. This sort of behavior should be anathema to your very existence. But for some reason... This is right. This is good. This is what you are SUPPOSED to do.
  72.  
  73. As you stare, a sound breaks the silence, a sound that seals your fate. A low, loud, steady rumbling sound echos around the empty castle. You're hungry. You're STARVING.
  74.  
  75. You begin stuffing your face, trying to force as much food down your throat as you can. You don't even care about taste anymore. All that matters now is sating that horrible, awful hunger that gnaws at your insides. No matter how much you feed it, it only seems to grow worse and worse, hungrier and hungrier. Not only that, but a different need is starting to tear its way into your mind. A dark, sensual need that creeps down your back and seeps its way into your loins.
  76.  
  77. You let out a small moan, rubbing your thighs together as your ever more swollen stomach continues to gurgle and complain loudly for more sustinance. You try to ignore your arousal, but it's growing faster than your hunger did. The sounds of your feasting becomes intermixed with your pants and needy groans. You start to sweat, finding yourself more and more unable to resist your desires. You rake your eyes around the room. You need a stallion. You DESPERATELY need a stallion. To penetrate you, to fill you up with his meat and his seed. Ohhh Who's stupid idea was it to have a ball with no stallions at it?! Your eyes fall on Spike, who has been cowering behind his feast cart this entire time. An idea slips into your head. Of course! Spike! Why didn't you think of it sooner?
  78.  
  79. "Spike... Come out from behind there," you utter over your stomachs frantic sounds of hunger and digestion.
  80.  
  81. Slowly, he obeys. You can see him barely restraining himself from shivering in terror. Mmmm. You'll soon fix that. How long has it been since you met the little dragon? He used to be so small... But that was many years ago. How could you have not noticed how well he's matured? His sleek purple scales, wrapped tightly around lean muscle.. Oh yes, he'll certainly do nicely.
  82.  
  83. With sudden agility that defies your newfound bulk, you leap from your seat; bowling over Spike's slight frame with ease. You grin as you pin him to the floor, your dangling belly sloshing and groaning angrily.
  84.  
  85. "R-Rarity! What are you-?" He begins.
  86.  
  87. "Oh shut up Spike," you growl. "You've wanted this for years. Seize this opportunity."
  88.  
  89. Without giving him a chance to respond, you lower yourself down onto him, grinding yourself up against his groin. Spike's reaction is strong and immediate. His breath catches in his throat, and he blushes profusely. But that isn't the reaction that you're much bothered about. You're far, far more interested in the response that occurs between his legs.
  90.  
  91. It doesn't take much coaxing to get Spike's member to emerge, and emerge it does. Further and further it grows, pulsing larger and thicker with every quick heartbeat. Every time you expect it to stop, it just keeps going, until he reaches stallion size and even surpasses it.
  92.  
  93. "Mmm... Nobody told me that dragons were so well equipped." You purr. "Such a pleasant surprise."
  94.  
  95. "Rrrarit-" Spike tries to start, his face beet red. But you interrupt him by slamming your rump down on his protruding shaft, letting out a loud gasp of pleasure as your nethers take him all the way to the hilt. The look of shock and surprise on Spike's face is simply priceless. And if you weren't busy being impaled on him, you might have burst out laughing.
  96.  
  97. Your instincts and your body urge you onward. No time to savor or dillydally. You NEED his seed. You don't know why, but that isn't important. And oh goddesses you are still so very, very hungry. The sounds of yours and Spike's pleasure join that of your stomach as you begin desperately trying to bring him to release. Up and down, harder and harder, your cheeks slaps against his pelvis as you bounce on top of him. No doubt your weight causing him a deal of discomfort.
  98.  
  99. Luckily for you, it doesn't take long to set the inexperienced little dragon off. Only seconds later, his body tenses, and he grunts loudly; arching his back and bucking upward instinctively. You gasp as the first spurt hits you, and your tight walls abruptly clamp down around him, squeezing and pulling with all their might. You're going to milk this dragon dry. More and more seed spills into you, and the sensation of slowly being filled with the marvelous warm liquid sets you off. You moan like a whore as you quiver and spasm around his shaft, trying to coax more spurts from his reptilian tip as your marehood leaks fluids of your own. A shiver runs down your spine as wave after wave of pleasure flows through you. And before you're even finished orgasming, your can feel the warmth within your womb grow hotter; being joined by other sensations as your reproductive system goes into overdrive.
  100.  
  101. "Ahh...Ahh!... Ahhhh!" Your shakey breaths grow higher and higher pitched as something starts happening deep inside you. Your belly gurgles ominously, then abruptly surges forward a few inches; growing larger and heavier beneath you. Spike stares, wide eyed and confused. But he gets distracted as you continue trying to milk him. His seed is long since spent, but it doesn't stop you from trying.
  102.  
  103. Again your taut stomach grows, and this time the growth spurt does not halt so quickly. You swell forth, your sides bulging out and utterly destroying the tattered remains of your royal dresswear. Your bellybutton pops outward, leaving you looking like a heavily pregnant mare. You pant heavily, nearly obvious to what's happening around you. You're too drunk with lust and hunger to care.
  104.  
  105. "Rarity! You're... You have to- Oof!" Spike grunts as your burgeoning creaking flesh descends to the floor, pinning him there beneath you. You ignore him, focusing on the growing life within you. You can already hear the eggs clacking against each other as they grow, constantly re positioning as they force their mothers belly to inch larger and wider.
  106.  
  107. It isn't long before you're steadily being raised off the ground by the sheer size of yourself. Your legs dangle uselessly to either side of your straining overfull midsection, and you shiver as your hooves brush against the sensitive skin of your too-taut belly. The hunger still gnaws at you, and you pull your thoughts together just well enough to begin levitating more food into your waiting mouth. Anything to please your growing girth.
  108.  
  109. Minutes tick by, and still your stomach complains, rumbling deeply as it begs for more and more food. Your belly is bigger than you are by this point. You bring another plate toward you, intending to add it to your seemingly ever-increasing mass... But you freeze. A ripple travels across the surface of your stomach, and you gasp as it emanates a loud groan. You flinch, and your belly goes even tighter as your first contraction hit. Your eggs begin moving inside you, scraping up against one another as they begin making their way to your birth canal. You start panting hard, some small amount of fear making its way into your animal mind. Are you ready for this?
  110.  
  111. "Ooohh..." You moan loudly as the first egg presses up against your sex. You clamp your eyes tightly shut, desperately trying to get enough air as your belly gurgles and creaks; straining to be rid of its still growing load. It isn't really helping that Spike, still trapped beneath you, has taken to caressing and massaging the eggs through your strained skin. You're pretty sure he's grinding his erect member against you as well. Your straining muscles squeeze yet again as another contraction hits, and for a brief moment you can actually see the outlines of the eggs pressed up against each other within you.
  112.  
  113. You howl as the first egg crowns, stretching you past what you thought possible and then some. The relief you feel when it finally passes and slides out of you is enormous, but short lived. The second egg is not far behind. Contraction after contraction, egg after egg. And you don't seem to have gone down in size in the slightest as your brood continues to multiply.
  114.  
  115. It's going to be a long night.

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