Title:           idk
Author:          Anonymous
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/TjdvAnWr
First Edit:      Sunday 21st of February 2016 05:46:08 PM CDT
Last Edit:       Sunday 21st of February 2016 05:46:08 PM CDT

    Shining Armor was bored.
 
    There were no meetings scheduled for today, no issues that required his immediate attention, and what work there was, Cadence was taking care of it. After months of hard work getting the Crystal Empire up and running again, he found himself with a day off, and had no idea what to do with it.
 
    Eventually, he wandered into the palace library, a vast room lined with bookshelves, each one filled with ancient texts. Scholars from Canterlot were usually hard at work here, making copies of the oldest and rarest among them, but they too were enjoying a day off. Shining couldn't help but wonder where they'd went, in a city with no theaters, clubs, or bars.
   
    Wandering the quiet shelves, he glanced across books as he walked by. Some didn't even have markings on the spine, making their identity a complete mystery until pulled down. Shining grabbed one at random, blowing dust off the cover to see the title.
   
    'The Ideal Commander'
 
    He raised his eyebrows. An old treatise? He'd studied more than a few of these, but he'd never heard of this particular one. There was no author listed, either on the cover or inside flap, not even a date or dedication! Most treatises, Shining knew, were dedicated to a wealthy patron, or a general who earned glory in battle, yet this one was blank. Perhaps it was a hidden gem of ancient military thinking? Either that, or it was so terrible that nopony wanted to be associated with it.
 
    Taking a seat on one of the library's softly cushioned chairs, Shining flipped open to the first page and began to read.
   
    'The ideal commander has the wisdom of age, and the fire of youth.'
   
    Shining smiled at that; He liked to think of himself as young in spirit, if not in body. Even if he was... How old? 35? No, no, he was 45 years old, he remembered. What kind of ruler can't remember his own age? Shining chuckled at his absentmindedness, not noticing a tingle in his scalp as a streak of grey cut through his still-vivid blue mane. He was old enough to be some of his recruits' father. Well, it would only be a few months until he was a father for real.
 
    'The ideal commander's body must exude power and respect. Never is he seen in fanciful garments.'
 
    Shining felt a swelling in his center, both physical and metaphysical. Ponies respected him a lot more nowadays. Just a glance, and everypony knew who had commanded the Canterlot Guard for over a decade. He looked down at his body, so different from the lean, athletic physique of his earlier years. His belly had grown rounded and soft, bulging against his largest shirts, not that he bothered with them when he could avoid it. Most fabric just chafed against his fur, irritating the hairiest spots of his chest and back. The only shirt that felt 'right' was the padding beneath his royal chainmail, and even that felt constricting at times.
 
    That was mostly due to his muscles, which had grown steadily over his decades of command. His biceps had swollen to a tremendous size, each as wide around as a pony's head, and powerful enough to smash an apple between them and his forearm. His pecs were just as massive, protruding inches from his chest, yet despite their soft, jiggling appearance, there was hard muscle contained within. No normal shirt could contain those bad boys.
 
    Of course, in private, Shining was free to wear as little as he pleased. Shining was dimly aware that he wasn't wearing pants anymore, and he couldn't remember taking them off. There they were on the floor, though, right next to his... Shoes? Boots? A pair of leather jackboots lay haphazardly beside them, his feet clad only in socks. It was his royal right to be comfortable, after all.
 
    His boxers were stretched thin over his wide ass, drooping over the edges of his chair. He kept meaning to buy new ones, but he had to order his size specially from Canterlot, and international shipping was murder. The edges were frayed, elastic threads poking out this way and that, signifying where the structure had given way to make room for his growing waist. The grey fabric color was faded from months of use, contrasting against his pearly white coat.
   
    'His facial hair is kept tidy, to symbolize his confidence and self-control.'
   
    Short blue hairs sprouted on Shining's chin, then spreading down his neck and across his cheeks, until his lower face was covered in a layer of stubble. Shining's hand drifted up, rubbing the bristly hairs. "Gotta remember to shave sometime," He muttered, stroking his fuzzy chin. As he stroked, the hairs grew as if he were pulling them out of his chin. He used to diligently keep his face smooth, but as the years passed, he fell out of his old routine. Sure, it was scratchy at first, but after a few months, he felt it commanded a degree of authority.
   
    As his beard lengthened, so did his mane. His military crew cut sprouted into thick, shaggy locks, running down the back of his neck. Giving his head a shake, he smiled. Cutting hair was so last decade. He intended to let it grow until it spilled out of his helmet, and maybe a little longer. Maybe he could get a longer helmet, to keep it safe and tidy during combat. The royal blacksmith would love that one.
   
    'His body bears the marks of war, a scar for every foe defeated.'
   
    Shining hissed, a stinging pain shooting across his chest. He ran a finger across his fuzzy chest in a neat line, the flesh beneath turning pink and puffy as he passed. The old scar still hurt from time to time, a reminder of that old griffon warlord who thought he could grab a couple border towns without anypony noticing. A dozen or so other scars popped up across his body, none as impressive as that one, but each with its own story to tell. The arrow wound on his shoulder, for example, from the Camel Arabian crisis, or the jagged tear on his inner thigh from when a spear almost got a little too close.
   
    The dagger tattooed on his left bicep had grown along with the muscle, stretching, fading, until it looked more like a broadsword than the puny blade his friends had drunkenly convinced him to get. Complimenting it were a pair of scars where some bastard tried to peel the skin from his arm. Bad mistake for him, but a good look, at least Shining thought.
   
    'The commander's virility is beyond question. He is energetic at war and at peace.'
   
    Shining felt a stirring he couldn't easily ignore. Setting the book down on the floor, he dug his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear and pulled them to his knees, meaty thighs jiggling as they went. Shining's cock, never fully flaccid, was beginning to really perk up. Wrapping a hand around his hardening shaft, Shining gave it a gentle stroke, a smile spreading across his face as it began to rise.
   
    Erect, his cock was a sight to behold, standing at ten throbbing, meaty inches, bouncing up and down with every stroke of his hand. It felt hard, harder than he could imagine, and burning with arousal. He began to stroke faster, to keep up with the fire inside him and let it out.
   
    His mind swam with images of mares and stallions he'd known, their bodies sexier than he'd originally remembered. He tried to focus on his wife's pink pussy, but it was increasingly difficult with all the perfect bodies drifting past his mind's eye. Good thing they had an open marriage - Didn't they? Of course, those were her exact words, so he could fuck any mare or stallion that caught his eye. A stallion has needs, and even a princess can't fulfill all of them, especially one as pregnant as Cadence.
 
There was one cock he remembered better than all others - A huge one, belonging to the statue outside the barracks. You could see it bulging past the statue's loincloth! Now that was a monster! If only it belonged to a living, breathing pony, rather than a lump of cold marble... If he had any presence of mind, he'd have noticed how big his own cock had gotten, standing at twelve inches, and wide enough to keep his fingers from touching.
   
    Shining grit his teeth, groaning, trying to savor the feeling for just a moment longer. His balls tightened in preparation for the orgasm to come. He was so close, so close - his mind was clouded with thoughts of every partner he'd ever had - and yet, in the middle of it all was an image. Before him, he could see a young unicorn stallion walking into the library.
   
    For just a moment, Shining was aware of what he had become. His old self seemed so far away, faded like a half-remembered dream, and he could scarcely believe they were one in the same pony. Then, the pressure growing too intense, he let go, blasting what was left of his old self out in the first of many orgasms that day.
   
    Forgotten on the floor, the old book crumbled to dust, and was swept away in the breeze.
 
[hr]
   
    An hour later, King Shining Armor slid his chain-mail shirt over his head, shivering as the cold metal rings touched flesh. It was a familiar sensation, yet it felt almost new as he adjusted the hem to sit comfortably over his belly. His pants felt a little tight; Time to have them let out again. Shining reached over to slide his boots on, letting out a sputtering fart as he bent over. Chuckling, he got up, slid in the chair, and walked away, leaving the messy seat behind.
 
    "I wonder what's for dinner," he muttered, slamming the door shut behind him.