The office is bathed in the artificial light cast from the lamp, hanging in the center of the little office. Many guests find it surprising that a woman of her position and presence has an office situated deep in the basement, like a common janitor. When she first started the job First Folio shared the opinion. Still, a private office is a private office. And with time, she had come to appreciate the space, even refusing to relocate. It's warm, private, cozy (once you dust off the spiders), and frankly, she likes the frightened look on the people's faces after passing through the long, sinister hallway. Sometimes she even shoots them with a cold-stone stare, to finish the horror set-up.
The queen of the room lifts a steaming mug with 'The Greatest Librarian of the World' (the original word 'state' crossed out) etched on it and blows it with a content smile. She wiggles a bit and leans her elbows on the polished wood of her chair. She melts into the sinfully comfortable leather, and takes a sip, slurping obnoxiously. Warmth spreads through her body. She lets herself rest for a bit, but Time is an oppressive creature. If left unchecked, it would leave you with mountains of unfinished work and days wasted away.
With a sigh, First Folio stretches her thin arms above her head and lets out a notable groan. Her limbs give a twinge of pain that seeps through her medication. Those twinges are becoming more and more frequent. At first, she thought it was just overworking, but now... Time is an oppressive beast indeed. She's not the oldest staffer at the Cantelot Royal Library; Booksmart still holds strong. Even if her age shows.
"Wonder when we'll join you, Dusty." She mutters, looking at the photo of her with her friend. Perhaps it wouldn't be all that bad. That old girl seems to enjoy retirement. In fact, she seems more lively than she has ever been while working. She smiles and imagines Dusty, Booksmart, and herself sitting at the table, sipping tea, and gossiping about old times. "Ohh, stop it." She slaps her cheeks, her sharp features vibrating and disregarding the lingering doubts. "You're not that old, girl. And even if, better to use the time you still have." She says, slapping her forehead lightly for emphasis.
She lets out a sigh that borders on a small growl while shuffling through the papers on her desk for what feels like the hundredth time. The adjustable monitor did a fine job of keeping her eyes from being seared out when the light hit her in the wrong way.
Besides being the head administrator of the caressively called Grossly Overdue Book Return Office for Ponies Who Should Know Better section, she holds the position of a part-time bureaucrat and practically, Disciplinarian with 'The' in front. Because someone has to. While she loves to work in the Library, it leaves her with overwhelming gravity of troubles. Every month seems to be as bothersome as the last. Every problem plaguing the institution has been fixed - only for new to reveal themselves.
But lately, the twist appears to be all the same - Indecent Behaviour as she names it while filling the reports. And it's putting it mildly. It's disheartening. Acts of offensive exposure and public sex are on the rise, and not in little waves but more like powerful tsunamis. Her tongue works in thought. She heard about the influx of floozies lately, but because she had rarely encountered those, she treated them like sideroad attractions - there are there and she sometimes indulges in visiting them, but treats them like a passing thing.
But now, as it usually is, the unattended trouble has reached her home. It started relatively innocent. Heck, she thought it's just a passing trend. Girls dressed more aptly for Ladies of the Evening going for work, more 'petting' than in the pet shelter, and, like really, really sloppy make-outs, as if they were trying to eat each other. Those she could forgive, Libraries are very romantic buildings, afterall. Especially the old one like Cantelot Library.
But after finding some bubblegum-colored abomination of a girl, crouching in a circle of men pointing at her with their 'sticks' while the camera is rolling, First Folio has sworn to go on a personal Crusade. Personally, she wasn't even that bad. She at least had the 'decency' to apologize and clean the mess she and her boyfriends had made, though she still didn't know how the girl sneaked past her. No, the worst must have been the skittle-haired beef-head dressed like Daring Do - she only had a guy and a girl with her. Not bad on its own if not the fact that they'd made a BED made of the CLASSICAL LITERATURE!
She though her head would explode from anger. And then she had a gal to call them 'a bundle of papers with snobbish chicken scratches'. Her spine still cracks after throwing her ass through the front door.
She personally cleaned and repaired the tomes and after that she filled out the complaint and signed the girl's name name on the Ban List with big red letters. Good luck borrowing a rare book now, Miss Dash.
But it's more about the person than the act, perhaps. She doesn't have to look further than the lifelong attendant, Moondancer. She's always been a shy girl and a good friend of the Library staff, even exchanging gifts on birthdays. A staunch introvert. Didn't have many friends but after absorbing some less-than-adequate activities, she seems to be doing better in crowds, even renewing an old friendship. And didn't lose her reading passion or respect for the institution. In the end, a troubling development but Folio's happy for her.
Folio lets out another growl-like sigh as she shuffles the papers on her desk for what feels like a hundredth time. Acts is more on point. Though she's a woman of energy, the amount of work is draining just by the look of things. She briefly considers calling Bellflower to help her organize, but she shoots the idea. The girl already had an unpleasant encounter with the pair of hoodlums, yesterday. Such a sweet girl must have been shocked. She's been trying to hide the incidents from her younger co-worker. She's an innocent girl who must be protected at all costs. She considers going for another cup, when her thoughts are interrupted by a sudden knock on the door, blessing her with something else she can focus on.
The Elder Woman straightens her old-fashioned shirt, pushes her simple half glasses up her nose, and checks if the curls in her hair are in their places. Then she straightens up and puts on her serious face.
"Open."
True to her words, the door opens easily and quietly, showing, well, it's hard to tell. She can only see slivers of horizontal light arcing on the curvaceous shapes. The woman sits still in her seat, quiet and surprised for a moment, before realization settles in. And immediately all her good mood is shredded like files in the hungry paper shredder. As much a weird thing that is, First Folio recognizes the orbs. The immense curves, the broad areolas, and especially those obnoxiously colorful star tattoos. The Violet-haired woman has to shield her eyes from light reflecting from the skin picture. Just looking at it makes her brain itch.
Nimble fingers tipped with manicured nails wrapped settle on the doorframe, only to be absorbed into the mass of soft meat as they surge forward. Porous nipples stick outwards pointing aggressively at her, as the person tries to pass the frame with the same attitude of a stubborn child trying to push the wrong figurine in their shape sorter toy. Folio folds her arms under the swell of her own chest. Breasts like this are nothing but trouble, she thinks, My back hurts just by looking at them. They bulge like massive water balloons, on the brink of exploding.
"If I stab them, will they pop with milk?" This random thought makes the Amber-eyed woman crack an amused smile that brights the room.
The walls creak, the wood bends, and angry muttering can be heard behind the living clog. Slowly, Folio's mix of anger and annoyance gave way to worry for the booby person. If she keeps struggling like that, she's gonna hurt herself. Her mouth opens ready to ask if she needs help. Though the prospect of touching the girl is less than appealing for the woman, she's willing to sacrifice herself, and will sink her hands in the supple, sumptuous bosom. Feel their mass swallow her tiny hands whole, until she can only press her head against them.
Something must have heard her pleas, however. Barely the first letter leaves her throat when the Troublesome girl springs into the room with the same speed and grace of a wine cork.
And there she is. The Patron of her latest headache. Her purple head almost touches the ceiling of her little room, tits and ass pushing out any ounce of air making the comfortable space more suffocating for her than the girl. She's so massive Folio can feel heat radiating out of her. The temperature rises about five degrees, and Folio can't tell if it's the heat emanating from the girl or just her agitation. Her nose scrunches, as a smell of something sweet assaults her sinuses.
Really, the only thing the girl is little is her clothing. Fabric wrapped above her waist resembles a belt rather than a proper skirt and definitely isn't made to hide her vulva. Neither are those pseudo panties; more of a decoration than any functionality. Her stupendous breasts are held in the air by a glimmering corset that doesn't even attempt to cover them. Curiously, her feet are bare. Maybe because of the low ceiling?
The quick moment of appraising doesn't go unnoticed by the taller girl. Twilight's fat lips twist into a cheeky smile, happy that her body caught the attention of the Authoritative Librarian. A little late sure, but hey, Librarians are known to be ponies or people of focus and determination. Her smile widens only to become strained. Twilight's eyes, sparkling with the colors of deep space meet the cold, uncaring gaze of the Elderly woman. Despite their size difference, Twilight suddenly feels small. Like she's back being a little filly that returned her books a minute too late and was afraid she'd be banned from the Library.
The staring contest goes on for nearly fifteen seconds, until the oppressive silence is broken by the owner of the room.
"You good?" The question comes out bluntly. The older woman adjusts her glasses in an impatient fashion, more tense than she allows to be seen.
"Y-Yeah, I'm fine." The half-naked girl answers, massaging her soft sides, only now aware of the slight pain in her titties. "Y-you need to extend the doorway. I barely slipped through."
"Maybe, I should." Folio speaks, and the voice is something, a bit nasal but carrying a ruling note that sends electrifying tingles up and down her arms. Looking back, Miss Folio, as she has found out her name is, is actually not that bad looking. Her cheekbones are carved from ice, playing into her tundra-harsh nature, a pretty shade of curly hair and eyes, while harsh have a warmth to them. It was like seeing a fireplace in the dead of the cold night, promising care and safety. She barely notices the heavy crevices under her eyes. Nothing that a bit of make-up (and magic) can't fix. "Unfortunately, Cantelot Royal Library lacks funds to accommodate Oversized hussies. Guess you'll have to bear."
"What? That's horrible!" The pony-turned-bimbo tight, disapproving voice replies, and Folio feels his shoulders tense up a bit. "How can such a magnificent institute be underfunded for anything? Isn't this the Biggest Library in the state? What about Book copying? Old Tomes preservation? Do you skip on archiving old newspapers?" Gasp! "I Haven't seen many curators. Are you understaffed?!"
"N-no." Folio waves the question away with a grouchy look. "There's plenty of funds for those things." Just not for bimbo doors in her office, she thinks, shifting in her seat and scratching her head, before finding a comfortable stance. Her composure briefly gave out as she stares at the girl. That's an uncharacteristic knowledge and care for their work. It makes her heart warm.
"That's a relief." Twilight's shoulders sag a little and so does the atmosphere around her. First Folio, it makes the muscles in her back firm up cautiously, only to drop back into a relaxed state. "You have no idea how much this makes me happy."
"Really?" Folio quirks her brow, making no other moves to hide her skepticism.
"Yes. You see, Miss Folio. I love love love books and I adore libraries~" The Booby girl says in that almost sing-songy way, finished with a melodic moan, that puts the tiny hair on the older woman's neck upwards. Her whole chest shakes, almost knocking the desk lamp. Folio tries to grab it, but as she does, a light reflected from the girl's tattoo hits her again in the eyes. A sting of pain hits her brain through her eyes. Her delicate frames fall off, only for the woman to catch them in the air.
The Woman bats eyelids like a scarred butterfly flapping its wings. With each flutter, her short eyelashes grow in length, until they would graze against the lenses. She rubs her eyes, trying to clear off the lights. In the process, however, a bright mascara smears around her amber eyes, creating a noticeable contrast with the eyelashes. It makes her eyes blaze even more.
"I've always loved them." The girl moans out, unperturbed by the audience. "Ever since I was a tiny, little filly, I couldn't get enough of the knowledge contained in the rich, hardcovers or old parchments. Libraries were my second home, away from home. Just the thought that an awesome place like that could go into decline makes me retch." The Booby Girl’s eyes sparkle in excitement. "Do you need an assistant? I could be so happy to-"
"Are you trying to butter my buns?" Folio admonishes, equally suspicious and hopeful of where the conversation is going. She has learned how to spot when some devil-may-care smartasses try to cop out or ease their sentences. But either this girl is a great actress, or she really means it. She really gets old. The remorseful ones are the hardest to resist. "I'll save time for both of us and say - it will not work. I'm too experienced. My heart has been fortified against tricks like that. Besides with your record." She punctuates her words with a distinct bite in her tone. The light around the girl diminishes briefly. Despite the effect of her words, she finds herself loathe to speak up. "I'm not sure you'll even be a simple member of the library, to say nothing of an assistant."
"Is it, uhmm... about what happened yesterday?"
"What makes you think that?" Folio's words ooze with sarcasm. Conveniently, the girl responds by scratching the side of her hair, with only a trace of a blush, and a rub of her thighs.
Well, there are worse responses to one's delinquency.
"Yes... about that."
Folio's eyes bulge, as a good portion of the girl's shapely arms are so easily devoured by the pliable expanse of her chest. The great mounds of titmeat already take an awful portion of the tiny compartment, so the sudden squeeze makes them loom over the Librarian. A weakness sparks inside her.
Instinctively, Folio squares her arms, cupping the bottoms of her lemon-sized breasts, and makes a show as if you are presenting them. Girls these days decide the amount of respect by the size of their chest. At least, according to Moondancer. A ridiculous practice, but young girls can be vain airheads. They'll grow out of it eventually. It's the burden of the older generation to teach them better. Doubly so for her.
Besides dealing with overdue books, she acts as an enforcer of rules. From what she has heard, she has garnered infamy amongst the troublemakers who dared to disturb the sanctity of the place. She's been in the job for some time. She has full confidence that she can put the girl in her place, despite her diminutive chest. But, sometimes, jokingly or in moments like this, she wished she had a beachball set on her own. Would make her job much easier.
The Giant girl bobs her head, with only a tiny glimmer of her eyes visible. Folio hums curiously. Impossibly for someone her stature, she manages to look vulnerable.
Her upper body soon follows and the edges of her tits bump against her desk. Breath gets caught in her throat as the Old Librarian finds her eyes on the same level as the tacky tattoo. It's so close she can make out even the tiniest details. Folio can't help but marvel at the craftsmanship. Etched over the sternum, its edges reach far behind the swan swell of the girl's neck and roots ending just above the voluminous jugs. Colors of red, purple, and white blend masterfully with each other, no doubt hand-picked to draw attention to the tiny heart in the center. Most impressively, it seems like the fleshpicture emanates its own light. Tiny arches of light glimmer in and out of the central part, in a duplicate of how the real heart works.
Folio remains unaware of the changes on her face. Wrinkles iron out, the creases marring her visage after years of worry and disapproving glances disappear leaving only delicate marks under her eyes. Less a sign of age, and more of the maturity that comes with it.
"I'm, truly, very sorry for my behavior, Miss Folio." The words hit Folio with surprise with the expectancy of a heart attack. The voice is softer, a little more tight. Her chest shudders and Folio's stern grimace wanes with a twitch of her thin lips. They lack color or weight but visibly plump out with every twitch as if they were stung by a bee. Folio smacks her lips together struggling to adjust to the new weight.
Folio's never been a vain woman. Whether it was clothing or living she preferred a modest life. She's never even been interested in the art of make-up, preferring to leave her face as it is. A slick tongue sticks its head out and rolls over the fattening lips. Where it touches a heavy dose of golden lipstick paints the heavy kissers, contributing to the weight. It hides back, but a tiny O-hole continues parting her lips if she doesn't actively try to close it. In the end, they turn from razors slit into a pair of lips ready for a loving kiss, only a close lover could give. Fortunately or not, her cheeks smooth over and fill out with flesh. And while it makes her look healthier, as the side effect it takes away some of the natural sternness away from her face. Interestingly, sharp crevices around the corners of lips remain and are more pronounced, but now they look like a result of smiling rather than scowling.
The woman remains unaware of the changes, unlike Twilight who's more aware of what's going on inside the Older woman than any human can possibly comprehend. Well, maybe besides Sunset. The face is a good start. Not bad for someone still learning how the magic works. She holds back a mischievous grin, coughs testingly, and continues her penitent speech.
"As much it pains me to admit - You were right to throw me out. I... my actions were unacceptable. I put your precious repertory of books at risk of damage. Bent backs, stained covers, and... Goodness, who knows what else. I... I'm truly sorry. I can't believe, I've allowed myself such tardiness." Her voice is strained shivering with tiny, pathetic sobs. Like a child trying to appease her parent, so they wouldn't hate them for the rest of their life. And it works.
Despite her hardass impression, Folio has always been kind of a sweetheart. While she's harsh on the hooligans, if they apologized, she would have a hard time not forgiving them. The Purple-haired woman immediately finds a feeling of panic and hotness, heating up in her core. She feels a surge of pain in her chest, causing her breath to catch.
She grunts dipping a sharp finger in the collar of her shirt, to cool down a bit. It's strangely difficult. She liked her top clinging a bit to her body; a rare sign of bragging as her midriff remained rather slim for a woman her age and working sedentary job, but for some reason her shirt cliches around her chest, almost strangling her. The top, once comfortably situated, suddenly begins to rise, leaving a portion of her slim tummy. Her bra becomes visible through the fabric as Folio’s chest begins to swell. Within a short period of time, the older woman goes from being almost flat to a solid handful and then some. Her new round and heavy breasts make shadowy indentations over her heart.
"Well... "I'm happy that you're aware of your... transgressions." There was a lot of sympathy and gentlenes rippling through Folio's voice but she nods, face stone, afraid that something might tear if she breathes too much. "Luckily, besides the floor, nothing else has come into the... range. None got hit." Folio says with a slightly annoyed click of her tongue. There was plenty of cleaning to do. The young stud is impressively virile. The image of the large man pops into her mind and refuses to leave. The outline of the rippling muscles and intimidating power, and yet being polite and apologetic at the same time... She grunts as another pain hits her chest. Shaking (but failing to) the man of her mind, Folio continues. "I guess if you promise me to never do it again-"
Gentle hands wrap around her own catching her off guard. The surprise is even greater as Twilight’s monumental breasts park on the surface of her desk, knocking her mug off the furniture. It stops and gleams in the air before hitting the ground. It rolls showing 'The Sexiest in the World' (the original word 'state' crossed out) etched in a purple words.
Normarlly Folio would flip because the potential damage to her favorite mug, it's barely registered by the Elder Woman. Her mind is flooded with an intense tsunami of tingling pleasure traveling up throughout her body followed by a pink glow emanating from the girl's hand.
"Ohh, absolutely! You can on me, I'll never act like an irresponsible slut. From now - promise to fuck only outside the Library. If I feel horny I'll grab someone out, and do it there." Twilight's words pull at the strings in her heart. It beats faster with each second.
Her body starts to ache. Or rather all the pains coming from her age begin to vanish, replaced only with the nagging ache between her legs. She said those so casually, like it's the most natural thing in the world. Her pussy is filled with unbearable heat as her mind wanders into depravity. Images of the girl's young hot body being plowed by a group of people she's never met before. Gods, it's been years since someone has been interested in HER. Years since she felt some rock-hard dick spread her lonely librarian pussy apart and fill her until her internal organs rearrange.
She squeezes her hand back, and the light spreads from head to toe. Eternal fingers reach into her head and shuffle the folds in her brain. Memories are scrambled and turned into new ones, and the heat between her the near-unbearable levels.
In the past, she thought her needs would subdue eventually with age, but the effect seem to be the opposite. The older she gets the higher levels of lust and satisfaction her body seems to reach. When she's younger she used every ounce of her free time to finds herself a guy and release her stress and need, but at some point work become more and more a part of her life. Cantelot Royal Library is a big place, and they needed every hands to help.
Discipline and dedication allowed her to control her urges. For a time. One day it was simply too much for her to bear. She'd spent the rest of the day locked up in her office, lonely and naked and with her hand deep inside her. She almost flooded the room.
One of the things that annoyed the otherwise sweet older woman is how often she catches couples locked in a moment of fucking each other’s brains out. It seemed like everyone was getting laid. Except for her! Why would they be allowed to use the library as their personal fuck place, while she couldn't.
Gently her hand slinks down the front waistband of her pants, guiding the fingers to slip underneath her own panties to a pussy that was already wet. She rubs the surface of vulva, only for her fingers to be pushed inside.
Fate blessed her with a rather shapely if skinny ass, and with Folio's lack of appetite allowed her to keep it. She's something of a jealous object among her peers. Now? Now, portions of fat pop into existence out of nothing her gams grows into a pleasant lap pillows. Perfect for place to rest one's head and read. Her shorts screech in distress under the new weight. The slightest twist might fill the air with a deliciously loud sound of reaping.
The fact that teenagers act like uberhorny rabbits irritates her so much that she considered and actively tried to join them. Honestly, she deserves it. It's one thing if the they wanted to fuck each other’s brains out in the janitor closet or in their cars in the parking lot, but doing it where they could rub it in? That was just inconsiderate. May they consider it a fair trade - if they wanted to do it here, she would get some dick in her fuckhole and some pussy flavor on her tongue. Unfortunately, whenever she tries to join, they get scared and run away.
And she didn't want to scare them - she just wanted to take them to her office. Where no one would disturb them and the books would be safe. She blames her face. She tried experimenting with beauty products. Make her more approachable. So far no luck.
Twilight gives an honest pout as she senses the woman's growing distress. While her motivations are purely selfish, she doesn't want to hurt the woman. Her beliefs about the importance of the Libraries are as honest as they could be. She decides to finish the woman's improvement. Her eyes trail over the array of changes that she has bestowed upon her - yes, she's come up nicely. Good face, nice bottom. The only place she is lacking is in the breast department. She could hardly be called a bimbo with bee stings like this. This simply can not stand!
Helping people to become the best versions of themselves has become so easy nowadays, it's almost boring. With an emphasis on 'almost' as she has been gushing onto the floor since her age marks started to disappear. Watching people change is the biggest kink of hers and she's not afraid to admit it. She isn't sure if it was the magic that made her feel that way, or if it's just how things are. Not that it matters. What matters is to finish her off.
Twilight wastes no time, going immediately onto the attack. Soundlessly, she makes her way around the desk, taking a bit more road than it used to be necessary. Was her desk always this big? Or opulent? The Bodacious bombshell could drag her brother onto the desk and have her way with him. All while comfortably lying there, without fear of falling over the edge or breaking the furniture. She didn't even notice when that happened. Certainly an unexpected, but welcome development.
"I suppose you'll still write me down?" Twilight continues her act, kneeling down. She looks up at the Older woman with the biggest, most pleading eyes she could muster. It's something she has developed when needing something from her Mummy. It's funny how natural the art of manipulation has become to her. Guess it's easier when for the righteous cause."It would be my first time you know? My files had always been spotless. My parents will be so disappointed in me. I'll get grounded for sure... but that's fine. I deserve it." She continues to add to her carefully crafted display of begging. She lets her eyes water, and, soon, a few pitiful tears streaked down her cheeks.
I's a pitiful sight. Folio silently squeezed the hand, quietly chewing her lip. Her body tightens in need.
Pitiful and effective. More than the Bimbo Supreme could have expected. She pours even more energy into her arm, ready to add the final and most important touch when thin but strong hands now with elongated nails perfect for making her prey, cross behind her head. Before the girl can question it, Twilight's face is pulled down into the modest chest.
"There there little one." Folio whispers, her voice like sweet honey and milk, eyes a bit teary. Twilight huffs. Who's the little one? "I wouldn't dare to punish such a god girl like you like you. Just leave it to me. Your record will be spotless like your soul. I wouldn't even dare to hurt someone who loves books so much."
Ohh, that's good. That's why I came here. Twilight thinks as her supple, sumptuous bosom pushes heavily against her face, and while they aren't the largest she's come across in her life are they dense. The owner gives a small whimper as her front undergoes another radical change. The shirt, once comfortable, suddenly begins to strain and tear as Folio’s chest begins to swell. Further and further they go from ripe oranges to grapefruits until they reach heavy watermelons. The Growing bimbo gives a quiet gasp as she feels a sharp pain around her nipples. Looking down she sees the younger bimbo with her mouth around her nipple through the strained fabric.
It snaps revealing pale flesh. And as her shirt shreds, she heaves a sigh of relief. As the magic courses through her, it latches onto her shirt, cutting the parts covering her puppies and leaving them for the world to see. The threads wiggle and knit together forming into breastless top. In her mind, Folio remembers when she started to be so bold - right after Dusty left. Without her friend to hide her naughty side, it felt right the right moment to be more... forward with her attempts to score.
And with this sweet angel latched to her like a child to a mother, she's so close! A shame it's not a guy, but that's okay. It's been equally long before she was tongue-deep in someone.
As for the girl who orchestrated it all, she couldn't be happier. She made another bimbo, her record is spotless as it should be, and she'll have a steamy foursome with a brand new bimbo. It looks like a pleasant afternoon. But then, she feels a heavy gut in her stomach. A sudden fear about the matter she hadn't thought of before. First Folio has come out wonderfully but can she take care of the Library? There are plenty of irresponsible people out there, and even a well-ordered woman like her has acted irresponsibly. Better lives and the safety of knowledge shouldn't be mutually exclusive.
Yes. First Folio has come out wonderfully, but she can be better. More suited as the protector of the Library.
As Twilight comes to the conclusion, her heart begins to beat faster, and her hair comes to life. A light breeze that wasn't there before ruffles her hair. It waves and grows until it feels like it tumbles into infinity. Somewhere along the way, the strands of her glorious mane turns into a cloud of cosmic dust, that spreads over the room.