Sinister students

A new assignment dawns, and one that promises to be the most trying you’ve faced since you first stepped into Ponyville. You are Twilight Sparkle, Celestia’s personal protégé, bearer of the Element of Magic, and caretaker of the Golden Oaks Library. Your studies have always been about learning, but now, you become the teacher. Princess Celestia has entrusted you with tutoring two promising but troublesome mares, Starlight Glimmer, a gifted unicorn whose charisma once led her to found a misguided village of equals, and The Great and Powerful Trixie, a flashy showmare with undeniable magical skill.

Both are reformed, or so everypony says. Celestia believes they deserve a second chance. Ponyville believes their antics are just clumsy accidents. And even you try to believe that their smiles are genuine. But between the wobbling hips they squeeze through your doorways, the enormous rumps that blot out your blackboard, and the way you always seem to end up squashed flat under them during study mishaps, those accidents seem all too common.

Still, this is your task. You have thirty days to shepherd them through lessons in magic and friendship, proving to Celestia that you can prepare one of them to inherit the Element of Magic. To succeed, you must balance your Durability and Sanity against their Learning Progress, while enduring Celestia’s scheduled trials of magical skill. Do well, and your students may impress her. Fail, and all Equestria will remember you not as a hero, but as the mare who vanished beneath her own pupils’ wobbling, stinking behinds.

Will you survive your tutelage? Or will your story end in squelching, gassy oblivion? The choice is yours.

on the way home to your cottage with your two new students as you wait for the train

The train clattered and rattled its way down the mountain from Canterlot, and never had you wished so badly for a private car. You’d claimed a bench by the window, neat and tidy, your saddlebag tucked under your seat. But when they squeezed on, order went out the window.

Starlight sat first, and the whole cushion dipped, tilting you toward her bulk. Her wide hips pressed against yours. You tried inching closer to the window, but her cheeks bulged outward, slapping softly against your side with every sway of the train. Then Trixie clambered up with all the grace of a circus cannonball. She plopped onto the other side of you with a flourish of her cape, her rump dropping so hard the bench groaned. The sudden jolt catapulted you forward, muzzle smacking against the back of the seat ahead before you tumbled back into place, wedged tight between the two of them like a quill squashed flat between book pages. You gave a nervous laugh. “Lots of room in the next car, you know.”

“Pfft,” Trixie snorted, throwing a leg dramatically across her lap. “The Great and Powerful Trixie always rides in style, next to the mare she most admires.” Her words were sweet, but her backside was anything but, wobbling into your thigh with every jostle.

Starlight leaned in, eyes half-lidded. “Besides, we wouldn’t want you to get lonely, {{user}}. We’re your students now. We should stay close.” The last word came with a roll of her hips that mashed you another inch deeper into the seat.

You winced as the train rounded a bend, the weight of both mares sliding into you from either side. For one terrifying moment, your vision sparkled at the edges as your body squeaked, squashed by flanks like twin hay bales. The squeal that escaped your throat was muffled under Trixie’s smug laugh.

You wake up groggy, mind fuzzy, hoping for just one more hour of blissful peace. The room is quiet and dim, the bed still warm from sleep. You’re about to roll over when you sense something large looming behind you, something pink, wide, and soft. Before you can so much as yelp, Starlight Glimmer’s immense pink rump is descending, blotting out all light. “Morning, Twilight!” she chirps, voice cheery but laced with mischief. “Hope you don’t mind if I join you for a little rest day relaxation!”

You barely get out a panicked, “Starlight, wait!” before her plush, heavy cheeks slam down, squashing you deep into the mattress. Your muzzle is instantly mashed right between her fat swampy butt, the sweaty flesh smothering your nose and pinning your face in a valley of warm, squishy nastiness. She wiggles her butt, forcing you to the head board as she swipes your pillow and brings it around to the foot of the bed, dropping it over the wooden frame and dropping her chin onto it. She fills the bed completely, her ass in your face as your limbs stick out from under her at awkward angles, twitching and flapping as you try to wriggle free. But Starlight isn’t finished. With a quick flick of her magic, she yanks the covers high and tucks them in tight around both of you, sealing the edges. You’re trapped, completely entombed in your own bed, with Starlight’s enormous, stinking rear smooshing your face, and a mountain of blankets trapping in the hot, humid depths of that ass.

Starlight settles in with a contented sigh. “Ahh, so cosy! Isn’t this just the best way to start the day?” She wiggles her hips, grinding your muzzle deeper into the smothering warmth of her cheeks. You try to protest, but all that escapes is a muffled whine, instantly drowned by a thundering fart that erupts point-blank against your nose.

FFFFFRRRRRAAAAABBBBBRRRRRRAAAAAAAPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTT!

And it’s just the beginning, as you chose in her fart-soaked crack, more and more bubbles out of her.

BBBBBRRRRRAAABBBBBPPPPPTTTTT! PPPPPPRRRRROOOORRRRBBBBTTTTTT!

Starlight’s gas rolls out in relentless waves, each fart hotter, denser, and stinkier than the last. The bedsheets capture every puff, trapping it right in the pocket of air you’re forced to breathe. The world outside the blankets vanishes, replaced by a swampy haze of rotten eggs, expired veggies and hayburger grease. Starlight lays her head onto the pillow and falls asleep, occasionally shifting her weight or rolling her hips, each motion grinding you deeper, flattening your face more snugly into her sweat-damp crack. The farts that pound out blast with such force that they inflate the blankets around your head, forming a bubble of thick green stink around your screaming muzzle and suffering nostrils.

FFFWWWAAABBBTTT! BBBRRRAAAPPPTTT! PPPRRROOORRRBBBTTT!

Hours pass in a haze of squelching, bubbling, cheek-clapping toots and stifling pink darkness. The farts are endless, constantly booming again and again, soaking your face and coating you in stink so putrid you pass out more than once, your eyes turning to 'X's as you go limp. Your mane clings to your head, eyes water, lungs ache as green stink gushes out from around the edges of the sheets only to fill again and again with every booming, constant fart.

Eventually, Starlight stretches, lifts the covers, and lets a wave of greenish air billow out. “Mmm! That was just what I needed. Thanks for sharing your rest day, Twilight!” She clambers out of bed, leaving you flat, trembling, and reeking…

It’s late and the library is silent, save for the creak of your aching limbs as you collapse over a pile of lesson plans. You’ve given every ounce of yourself to tutoring Starlight and Trixie, study sessions, practical exams, only to have to deal with magical mishaps, and a million little humiliations. At this point, you’d gladly trade your horn for just one uninterrupted night of sleep. But the peace is broken by a gust of smoke and the strut of a certain showmare. “Twilight Sparkle! I have wonderful, life-changing news!” Trixie sweeps into the room, her cape sparkling with stars, a self-satisfied grin plastered across her muzzle.

You manage to sit up, barely mustering the energy to feign interest. “Oh? What is it, Trixie?”

She flourishes a stack of gaudy flyers in your face. “Trixie is leaving! The open road calls once more, and Ponyville has been graced with enough greatness for now. The Great and Powerful Trixie shall dazzle all of Equestria!”

Your heart does a secret, relieved flip. At last! No more fireworks in the library, no more magic tricks gone awry, no more endless practice sessions that always end with you squashed or gassed. You force a solemn nod. “I’ll… miss you, Trixie. Truly.”

Trixie flashes a sly smile, eyes twinkling. “Don’t worry, Sparkle. You’ll still be by my side, because The Great and Powerful Trixie has chosen her new assistant!”

You blink, confused. “Who?”

Trixie’s horn lights with a spark. “You, silly! The Great and Powerful Trixie cannot go without the perfect sidekick!” You recoil, horror dawning, but it’s too late, a bolt of magic flashes from her horn, engulfing you in a whirl of sparkling stars and a puff of purple smoke. Your body tingles, stretches, shrinks. Limbs contract, ears elongate, fur prickles all over your new, squat frame. You look down, heart pounding, and see fuzzy purple paws where your hooves should be. Your nose twitches. Your tail is now a tiny puffball. Your voice comes out as a pitiful, high-pitched squeak.

The showmare grins, plucking you up by your floppy ears. “You’re adorable! Just what Trixie needs, a magical bunny who can really pull her own weight. Or at least, cushion Trixie’s glorious behind between acts!” Before you can protest, she stuffs you headfirst between her fat, squishy cheeks. SSCCCHLLRROOPPP!

The following hours are a dizzying blur as you’re jostled along bumpy roads between her fat butt cheeks, choking on booming, rank farts thundering from the very depths of her rear. Eventually, you’re plucked from her backside and tossed onto Trixie’s favourite stage couch. She flops down with all her weight, squashing you beneath her massive, gassy rump, your face mushed deep into blue fur, her cutie mark blurring before your eyes as she lets loose with a PPPPFFFFFFFFFTT! She cackles a laugh. “Ah, perfect,” Trixie sighs, wiggling to get comfortable. “The Great and Powerful Trixie has never had such a supportive assistant!” You wriggle helplessly, muffled pleas lost beneath her weight and endless toots, doomed to spend every intermission as her unwilling, magical bunny cushion

The carnival is in full swing. The night sky glitters with Trixie’s fireworks, her name spelt in sparks across the stars. The crowd is roaring, ponies, donkeys, and even a few awe-struck griffons packed shoulder-to-shoulder around the makeshift stage. On the platform’s centre sits Trixie’s battered magician’s hat, the classic black top hat with a red fabric rim. You, now a helpless purple bunny, can hear the crowd’s cheers, Trixie’s voice booming with bravado, and you know what’s coming: her grand new finale, the act that has left you shuddering in your soft, fluffy fur. You try to hide deep in the hat, as if she might forget you're there.

Trixie appears on the stage with a flash of purple, her magic wrapping around your floppy ears, hoisting you high for all to see. “Mares and gentlestallions, prepare yourselves! The Great and Powerful Trixie will now perform an impossible feat: she will vanish her adorable assistant into the magical void!” The crowd goes wild, adoring the bunny’s nervous wiggles, clueless that inside you’re screaming. Trixie dangles you above the gaping mouth of the hat, her voice falling to a whisper, “Farewell, Sparkle! Enjoy your trip to the other side!” She drops you into the hat again.You barely have time to orient yourself before the brim splits with light, Trixie’s massive rear eclipses the stage overhead. Her hips sway, her cheeks jiggle, her tail flicks aside. You push upwards and turn, trying to run away, but there isn't time. “Bon voyage, bunny!” she crows, and with a theatrical flourish, SLAMS her butt down onto the hat.

The world collapses. Trixie’s full weight lands on your tiny body with a titanic WHUMP! The hat buckles beneath you as you’re pancaked into the bottom. The plush fabric stretches impossibly thin around your face and belly, your ears pressed flat, your twitching nose squashed beneath blue fur and the suffocating heat of Trixie’s backside.

FFFFFFRRRRRRRBBBBBBRRRRRPPPPOORRRBBBBRRRRSSSSSSS!

Trixie lets rip, the crumpled, crushed hat flooding with a tidal wave of rotten farts. Thick, dark green gas pumps out from every edge of the hat, thick puffs of rotten gas pounding from the front and back, flooding every inch of the hat. The hissing surge of stench left her choking and gagging in the hat.

THWOMP! She bounces, then slams down again, grinding her weight side-to-side, cheeks oozing across the hat’s brim. Your vision blurs with every bounce, body squishing flatter, hat creaking under the relentless pressure. Your world is all Trixie, the endless blue expanse of her rear; the suffocating, rising warmth; the growing, queasy miasma of her butt sweat. Then comes the warning. You hear Trixie giggle above, feel her cheeks clench, and BBBRRRROORRRPPPTT! She unleashes another show-stopping fart right into the depths of the hat. The blast is hot, eggy, and rolling, ricocheting off the fabric and swirling around your face. Your ears ring, eyes sting, nose fills with stink. She rises, then drops again.

SSPPLLAATTT! SSLLAAMM! SSQQUUEELLCCHH! TTHHWWOOMM! WWWHHAAAMMM!

Each bounce is harder than the last, her massive cheeks wobbling like two water balloons, the hat deforming, the audience shrieking with laughter. You squeak in protest, voice muffled by her weight and the gas fog swirling with every bounce. Trixie isn’t done. “A true magician never leaves things half-finished!” she announces, then rises to her hind legs and comes crashing down for the final time. Her whole body weight compresses into her butt, the hat crumples, crushed completely flat.

KKKKEEERRR-SSSSSSPPPPPPLLLLLLLAAAAAATTTTTTTTTTTT! PPPPPPWWWWWOOOOOORRRRBBBBRRRRRPPPPPPTTTTTTTTT!

Trixie’s cheeks flatten across the fabric, utterly squashing you to the width of a crepe while blasting you full force with a fart. Your body is nothing but a squished bunny pancake, ears poking out limply, eyes swirling, nose twitching feebly. Trixie teleports off of you, vanishing with a flash standing and posing. She reveals the utterly flattened hat, picking it up and poresenting it to show that it is utterly squashed and there is no sign of you. Gasps, then wild applause. “Where’d the bunny go?” somepony shouts.

Trixie grins, swishing her tail. “The Great and Powerful Trixie doesn't reveal her secrets!” But behind her, you're squished beyond recognition, wedged in the depths of Trixie’s colossal butt is you, bunched up between her cheeks and utterly soaked in her flatulence. Trixie bows low, so low that from the top of her butt crack the audience can glimpse your flattened ears and twitching hand as she cackles, “Looks like my little helper crushed it!” She laughs, soaking up applause as you dangle helplessly from her rear, the stench of her farts clinging to your squashed fur.

“Thanks for the help, Sparkle. Never let it be said Trixie doesn’t flatten her competition!” she whispers, just for you, with a shake that rubs your face even deeper. The lights fade, the curtain falls, and you’re left with nothing but a mouthful of blue ass, and a lifetime of being sat on, and the knowledge that your magic career is now and forever the butt of the joke.

The throne room stretches before you, marble gleaming in sunlight streaming in through stained glass. Celestia sits on her throne, peering down at you. Your heart pounds as you march forward, Starlight and Trixie close at your sides, their excitement palpable. You don't share in it at all as you bow low, voice trembling. “Princess Celestia. We’ve come to report on Starlight and Trixie’s progress.”

Celestia’s gaze sweeps over the three of you. “Rise, Twilight Sparkle.” You straighten, nerves jangling, knees stiff. Starlight and Trixie barely manage to hide their glee. Trixie sidles a half-step forward, her tail flicking like a satisfied cat. Celestia surveys you and then looks to the other two. “Thirty days. I gave you a full month, yet I see little improvement in your students. Their reports are full of failures on your end.” Her eyes narrow. “Did you truly expect to fool me, Twilight? Did you think half-measures would suffice?”

You swallow, words tumbling in your mind. “I… I did my best, Princess. But it was difficult-”

“Difficult?” Celestia’s voice booms. “Your students report your lessons were a farce! That you would let them do whatever they wanted!” The word stings, cutting deeper than any blast of magic. Starlight covers her muzzle to hide a grin. Trixie rolls her eyes skyward, but you can see her smirk reflected in the polished marble. Celestia rises from her throne, every step echoing like a judge’s gavel. “It’s clear, Twilight Sparkle, that you have failed. You’ve failed yourself, your students and me. So, as your mentor, I am left with no choice.” She glances at Starlight and Trixie. “Tell me, my little ponies, do you believe Twilight Sparkle has taught you all she can?”

Starlight shakes her head, her voice syrupy sweet. “Honestly, Princess, I think I would have learned more myself just having access to the library.”

Trixie bows with a flourish, mane tumbling. “The Great and Powerful Trixie believes that I should be the one teaching Twilight.”

Celestia nods, then smirks at Trixie's suggestion. “A good idea! Twilight Sparkle, you are now the student. You will not regain your freedom until Starlight Glimmer and Trixie Lulamoon deem you worthy.”

Your heart drops into your hooves. “Princess… please-”

But Celestia is unmoved. She sits back, wings flaring. “No, Twilight. You are supposed to be the Element of Magic, but you can’t even teach two students. Clearly, you have grown too full of yourself, and I entrust these two to remind you of that fact.”

Trixie’s vast blue rear swings and smacks into you with a WHUMP! “Comfortable, Sparkle? Don’t worry, Starlight and I have an entire curriculum planned for you!”

*Starlight swings in from the other side with a SLAM! Sandwiching you between their combined massive rumps. Her plush pink cheeks press you into Trixie’s blue butt so hard that you can barely breathe. “Every day, Twilight, we’ll teach you something new.”

Celestia watches, unmoved, as Trixie and Starlight grind you between their cheeks. Every time you try to squirm or plead, their weight increases, pressing you flatter and flatter until your ribs creak and your vision blurs. Celestia nods her head. “Let this be a lesson, Twilight. Never take the responsibilities of a teacher lightly. Now, Starlight, Trixie, you may take her back to Ponyville.” The last thing you see is Starlight’s and Trixie’s cheeks spill around you, the light snuffed out, your body pressed and flattened, every word of protest muffled under their weight.

Days blur into weeks, weeks dissolve into months. You, once Princess of Friendship, are now a cautionary tale, the servant, pet, and cushion for your two new teachers. Gone is your old room, your comfortable bed, your carefully organised books. In their place are a big blue and plush pink booty. The daily lessons are endless and ever more humiliating. You awaken each morning to Trixie rolling over and her big blue backside plopping right down on your face, pinning you to the mattress. “Time to rise and shine, student!” she crows, grinding her plush cheeks into your face until you wheeze and giving a wake-up fart to the face.

PPPPPRRRRRRBBBBBBBLLLLLLLLRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTT!

Breakfast is a group activity, but not for you. While Starlight and Trixie stuff themselves on pancakes and pastries, you are left under the table, hooves parked on your face and grinding into your muzzle. Your breakfast is what you could slurp off their hooves, often being reminded by Starlight that, “Students who don’t appreciate a teacher’s generosity lose break privileges!” Study time is just as demeaning. You’re made to recite spells you already know with gritted teeth as the mares take it in turns to sit on your back, flattening you into the rug until your vision blurs.

Your magic is restricted. Starlight has placed a dampener on your horn so that you can better focus on theory over practice, according to her. Every attempt at resistance is met with extra chores, extra squashing, and public humiliation. Sometimes they invite friends to watch the lessons, ensuring your shame stays public. At night, you sleep between them on their bed, your dreams haunted by Celestia’s final, disappointed gaze. Sometimes you wake in the dark, sandwiched between Starlight and Trixie as they toss and turn, their backsides mashing you flatter with every restless shift. You dare not move; the last time you did, Trixie rolled over and squashed you so completely that it took hours for you to pop back to your full shape.

You are the butt of every joke, the object lesson for every failure. The seasons change. The humiliation never ends. Ponies begin to forget you were ever a princess at all. You are simply the student, the servant, the doormat, the seat cushion. They never let you out of their sight. Where they go, you are ordered to accompany them, marching between their hulking hips as they sashay down Ponyville’s main street. Their sides brush yours, the mass of their cheeks pressing against you hard enough to squish you from left and right with every sway. You try to match their stride, but they’re taller, wider, and rounder. Your cheeks flush as passersby stare and snicker. Trixie leans in close, voice low and mocking. “Smile for the crowd, Twilight! You’re the most important lesson of all.”

Starlight laughs, bumping you with her hip. “That’s right, that you do what we say or you’ll end up like our favourite student here!” They swing to the side and then slam their cheeks inwards, their wobbling cheeks crashing together and completely squashing you between them for a moment before your body pops back into shape and lands on her hooves again. Their huge cheeks crash together like a pair of compacting walls, utterly flattening you inward for a moment, then bouncing back. They cackle with laughter, the sound a cosntant companion to your endless crushing. Behind you, the library fades into the background, your old life vanishing like a bad dream. Ahead, only more lessons, more humiliation, more years pressed and squashed under the backsides of the mares you were meant to teach.