Sequel to >>1731680

And now for part 3!

A full year has passed since Dash was captured by her mysterious kidnapper. A full year of being mercilessly stuffed, drugged and pumped full with hormones, all with the intention of breaking the rebellious and athletic mare down into a submissive, weak and broken broodmare – and finally the results of these efforts can be fully appreciated.

Dash has blown up in weight, having become a nearly immobile blob of a pony. At best she can shuffle along the floor for a couple of meters before running out of breath, her coat always stained with sweat from the sheer exhaustion of just managing her fatness and the arousal that courses through her body caused by the constant intake of fertility drugs and aphrodisiacs.

Her belly has become so massive it always drags on the floor, spilling out to her sides. Inside the massive pile of flesh her stretched stomach is always eager to receive its fill, putting her in a permanent state of hunger.

Her ass has grown so big her cheeks have engulfed the base of her tail. Giant fleshy orbs that jiggle with every movement, cellulite-ridden and sagging down on her thick haunches.

Most impressively is the growth of her crotchboobs though. Already quite bloated the last time we’ve seen her, Dashie has now grown verifiable udders. Bigger than her head and also dragging on the floor due to their sheer size.

And very productive.

She couldn’t ignore the swell of her pony-boobs any more the day she felt the first trickle of milk shoot out of her heavily engorged teats. Since then she has been basically producing milk non-stop, much to the enjoyment of her captor, who immediately started milking her regularly and selling her rich, fatty cream on the black market to purchase even more food to stuff down Dash’s gullet.

It was when she was being milked like a fat farm-animal, when he was groping her soft body, mocking her pathetically shrunken down wings and calling her his personal dairy-mare when her captor finally gave in and started rutting her properly.

Making her entire body jiggle while the aphrodisiacs were wrecking her brain, feeling the pressure being relieved from her over-engorged milk-sacks and the fullness in her belly, the lewd slapping noises echoing through her barely furnished room as he roughly pumped into her weak and helpless flabby body, it all drove her dulled mind finally over the edge and made our fat little broodmare give in completely to the pleasures of the flesh.

Gone were the ambitions of flying fast, of protecting the realm, of playing hero or even her friends.

All Dashie cares about now is getting stuffed fatter, getting her milkers drained and getting her other side stuffed with dick.

She hasn’t even noticed it yet due the sheer size of her frame, but the fertility drug treatment and regular ruttings already have had an effect on her, her massive frame hiding her early-term triplet pregnancy. Soon the first kicks will clue her in to her new state as a mother-to-be.

Dashie is in the middle of enjoying her latest through-fill of calorie-rich slop when her captor enters her chambers. She briefly looks up and flashes a faint smile at him, enhanced by her chubby cheeks, before returning her attention to stuffing her messy face. She tries to pretend to ignore him for the time being, but they way her tail swishes between her jiggly butt-cheeks and her hips already start to gyrate on their own clearly signals to him that she is ready for what is next.

“Mmmhm, my fat little cow. Enjoying your slop? I put something little extra in it just for you, you might recognize the taste.~“

He pecks her on the forehead, not wanting to disturb her gorging, before starting to rub her soft body all over. He briefly stops at the sight of her wings. Shrunken, pathetic and weak things. There is nearly no amount of muscle left in them. They’ve become tiny cherub-like things, partially sunken in her back fat and coated in enough softness they can barely do more than twitch a little when she gets excited.

“Silly little things. Glad we took care of that.“

He bemusedly wiggles one of the useless wings and chuckles.

“You will never fly again, isn’t this great? Not that you need to worry about that. Once I’m done with you you won’t be able to walk anymore. Isn’t this what you want? Keep growing fatter and more beautiful for me forever?“

Dashie stops her shoveling for a second.

“Look at how big you have become, just for me.“

He is properly groping her now, kneading hoof-fulls of blue soft flesh, breathing excitedly.

“Mmmhm imagine what your friends would think of you now. Or the Wonderbolts. They’d be disgusted. They’d make fun of you. They would probably not even recognize you.“

A moment of clarity flashes before Dash’s mind. Her friends. The Wonderbolts. A single tear starts to roll down her cheek.

“But now you’re mine. My beautiful fat cow-pony.“

A sharp slap shocks Dash out of her thoughts. Her lewd body jiggles all over, arousal flooding back into her brain.

“Mmmhm yes, so beautiful, so perfect.“

He walks to her backside, parting the heavy, cellulite-ridden fleshy orbs to reveal her wet entrance.

“My sexy, perfect broodmare. Time for some more fun, don’t you think?”