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7/8/2025, 9:48:35 AM
6/2/2025, 12:48:01 AM
>>42214204
Here's another chapter, and this time you've probably already seen the artwork that accompanies it:
https://www.fimfiction.net/story/574592/4/short-stories-about-fizzle-before-she-pops/a-long-shower-steamy-and-serene
A Long Shower, Steamy and Serene
Sweaty, Tempest Shadow was sweaty, tired, and had mud caked on her hooves after her walk. Where the sweat started and the humidity on her coat began she couldn’t tell, and she didn’t care. She opened her front door with her mouth, but otherwise resigned herself to cleaning a fresh trail of mud leading to her bathtub. The water pouch she’d brought with her on the walk was empty; it was in her saddlebags, which she simply shook off on her way inside after closing the door with her hindhoof. When she realized what she’d done, she turned back to see a muddy hoofprint right on the door, and she sighed.
When she reached her bathtub, the first thing she did was run the cold water as if for a bath and drink for several seconds. Tempest decided a shower sounded nicer than a bath, and closed the faucet afterwards. She walked around to the little steps placed next to the tub, rested her forehooves on the lip, sucked in her gut to squeeze her belly past it, and set her forehooves on the floor of her bathtub. The slippery floor of her bathtub, wet with fresh water, made her muddy forehooves slide all along it as she struggled not to fall inside violently. Tempest managed to ease her chest slowly to the floor on two shaking legs, and she rotated herself as the rest of her body slid inside. Tempest lay on her back, with her head at the drain and her rear at the opposite end. She had been angry at herself—but mostly the bathtub—for such a mistake, but her belly took up most of her vision as she was and then she couldn’t force worry out of her mind. She sighed as she replayed the events in her mind, and was content that she had banged or strained just about every part of her body except where her son slept, or where he was sleeping; a strong kick pushed out while a leg adjusted itself, and he was clearly unhappy about all of the jostling that had taken place.
Tempest knew she would feel better starting her shower sooner rather than later, and stayed as she was while she turned the knobs by hoof. Cold water came first, and she tensed in shock as it hit her rear and then the rest of her on its way to the drain, but already she started to feel better; she slowly added warm water until it was comfortable. The water was just warm enough for her to relax now while the mud and sweat began to be washed away. She found it nice to stay still and ignore the aching in her legs from the walk, but knew she couldn’t stay like that and sighed as she began to move again. Tempest begrudgingly rotated onto her side until her wide barrel stopped her; he kicked again, and she set a hoof where he had struck outwards, with a smile.
Here's another chapter, and this time you've probably already seen the artwork that accompanies it:
https://www.fimfiction.net/story/574592/4/short-stories-about-fizzle-before-she-pops/a-long-shower-steamy-and-serene
A Long Shower, Steamy and Serene
Sweaty, Tempest Shadow was sweaty, tired, and had mud caked on her hooves after her walk. Where the sweat started and the humidity on her coat began she couldn’t tell, and she didn’t care. She opened her front door with her mouth, but otherwise resigned herself to cleaning a fresh trail of mud leading to her bathtub. The water pouch she’d brought with her on the walk was empty; it was in her saddlebags, which she simply shook off on her way inside after closing the door with her hindhoof. When she realized what she’d done, she turned back to see a muddy hoofprint right on the door, and she sighed.
When she reached her bathtub, the first thing she did was run the cold water as if for a bath and drink for several seconds. Tempest decided a shower sounded nicer than a bath, and closed the faucet afterwards. She walked around to the little steps placed next to the tub, rested her forehooves on the lip, sucked in her gut to squeeze her belly past it, and set her forehooves on the floor of her bathtub. The slippery floor of her bathtub, wet with fresh water, made her muddy forehooves slide all along it as she struggled not to fall inside violently. Tempest managed to ease her chest slowly to the floor on two shaking legs, and she rotated herself as the rest of her body slid inside. Tempest lay on her back, with her head at the drain and her rear at the opposite end. She had been angry at herself—but mostly the bathtub—for such a mistake, but her belly took up most of her vision as she was and then she couldn’t force worry out of her mind. She sighed as she replayed the events in her mind, and was content that she had banged or strained just about every part of her body except where her son slept, or where he was sleeping; a strong kick pushed out while a leg adjusted itself, and he was clearly unhappy about all of the jostling that had taken place.
Tempest knew she would feel better starting her shower sooner rather than later, and stayed as she was while she turned the knobs by hoof. Cold water came first, and she tensed in shock as it hit her rear and then the rest of her on its way to the drain, but already she started to feel better; she slowly added warm water until it was comfortable. The water was just warm enough for her to relax now while the mud and sweat began to be washed away. She found it nice to stay still and ignore the aching in her legs from the walk, but knew she couldn’t stay like that and sighed as she began to move again. Tempest begrudgingly rotated onto her side until her wide barrel stopped her; he kicked again, and she set a hoof where he had struck outwards, with a smile.
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