A short story that has been marinating on my tablet for quite a while. So I finally took te time to finish it, for the sake of keeping everything orderly.

Contains an anthro Cynder. Enjoy!

Size:1.630 words

Spyro, Cynder © Sierra

Story © me
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Upon a long yawn, Cynder crawled out of her sleeping crib. It had been an irritable night for her, with dreams that were as jumbled and indescribable as a Jackson Pollock painting. She rubbed her eyes for a bit, opened all the curtains in her bedroom and made herself ready for breakfast. It was half past seven, which meant Spyro was probably still sleeping through dawn.
As she was about to descend downstairs to prepare breakfast, right when she glided her hand across the balustrade, she experienced a brief tingle that went from her shoulders all the way down to her hips, as if her abdomen was a small electrical conductor.
"Oh my." she thought right after the sensation left her body. "I do hope my nerves aren't turning against me."
Cynder managed to shrug off the feeling soon after. As she stepped down the pinewood staircase, she contemplated the possible source of that very peculiar tingle. Maybe it was a possible reaction from her body to her shoddy period of dormancy. Or perhaps it was a unique sort of growing pain. Cynder casually continued to follow through on her morning procedures and pretended her unusual sensation was merely a sign of her brain catching up to her fully awakened system. Though she was pretty certain that tingle was felt more on the outside rather than the inside...

Cynder went to the kitchen to make herself a bowl of oatmeal. Just as she reached for the cupboard above, she felt the exact same tingle as before. Again!
She shivered as she felt and recognized it.
"Eek! What is happening?!" she thought right as the feeling finished permeating her middle. Now being made aware of a potential nuisance, she sat down on a wooden stool around the round dining table, where she took the time to think calmly about the issue and ponder every possibility; to rule out anything severe that the tingle could be a starting symptom of.
"I think I should maybe see a doctor for this," Cynder thought, worrying.
"Oh come on Cyn, it's just a tingle. That can't possibly kill you, now can it?" she thought again simultaneously to counter her previous mindset.
"Well, at least I'm aware of the problem, which, as they say, is the first step to solving it!" Cynder got back up from her sitting place and went back to preparing her morning meal. A nice bowl of energy to start the day would most likely help her overcome her newfound affliction.

As Cynder was slurping down the remaining two tablespoons of her breakfast, she felt a lot more relieved. During the fifteen minute-period in which she ate her breakfast from start to finish, she hadn't felt any nerve-mangling tingles once. A step in the right direction, if she said so herself.
She rinsed clean her empty bowl and put it on the kitchen counter. After her breakfast session was completely finished, she headed upstairs again, ready to wash her face. Her hand smoothly glided upwards across the handrail, and she herself hummed a happy melody to help her stay positive and forget about all the events that morning. It had been almost twenty minutes since she had felt the signature tingle for the last time, which was a massive reliever as it attested to the fact that it wasn't a linear effect, and would henceforth most likely die off later in the day. Nevertheless, it was and had been a nuisance. The two moments that she did go through it made her feel as if her heart was falling down her internal system. But right when she turned the doorknob to the bathroom, she half-consciously stood still for a moment. There it was again, that obnoxious tingly feeling. It had returned, after all.

“Ugh, no,” thought Cynder. She sighed as she leaned herself against the doorpost. The recurring fluttering was beginning to drive her into frustration.
“If this goes on forever, I fear I might not be able to concentrate in the future.” The dragoness closed the bathroom door, as freshening up her face was the lowest of her priorities at the time. Instead, she went back into her bedroom. “Perhaps taking an extended nap will be the remedy.”
Cynder took another deep sigh, and her eyelids were ready to close as she crawled into her warm, cozy bed again. Just as she pulled the sheets over her midriff, a fourth tingle kicked in.
Cynder became profoundly disturbed. This one was even worse than the ones from before. She was ready to just jump out of her bed again and kick a hole in the wall.
“Grrr, just STOP IT!” she shouted in her thoughts as she shook her body around violently, squirming around on her mattress. She wheezed off her final bouts of irritation, before returning to a more calmer state.
“Ugh, I need to cool down,” she mumbled as she put her head to the side of her pillow and prepared to take a rest. She could hardly believe what she just did, but she felt she had to. That, and a lot more thoughts were yet to be processed by her, including her previous sleep that had been interspersed with frequent periods of insomnia.
As Cynder was ready to turn off her nightlight and disappear under the bedsheets, she felt another tingly feeling, just mere minutes after the other frustration-inducing one. She felt it clearly, and was ready to jump out of bed to make another attempt at venting away the experience, but then she realized that this sensation was no more a ‘tingle’ than it was some sort of… squirming. And through a cursory sensory examination, Cynder located the feeling as originating from her… chest.

An immediate observation shift crossed Cynder’s mind. The moment she felt the squirms coming from her bosom, she had a dangerously plausible realization as to what was actually going on. The cause and source of the chain of events that occurred this morning. She stood up from her bed in an instant and flicked on the main light switch. As she did so, she felt another squirm, but Cynder didn’t react; she already had a clear idea as to what it was that had been causing her fluttering sensations all along. Her hypochondric worries faded, and she began smiling.
Cynder reached her hands down to her bust, and parted her breasts. Upon seeing what she saw, she had an urge both to spout an angry reaction or laugh maniacally.
“There’s our little culprit.”
Down her cleavage was a tiny Spyro, wedged between her breasts. The dragon, who was about as small as an Oreo, squirmed around to reposition himself, and as he did, Cynder experienced the same tickly experience as she did before. Cynder picked up the little purple dragon, and got ready to fire her barrage of complaints onto him.
“Rise and shine, booby burglar,” she said with a smirk.

Spyro dangled by his tail in front of the massive dragoness’ grinning face, and the drastic flip of his physical state made him wake up immediately. As he tried to rub his eyes and stretch himself, he quickly realized everything was out of place, as he noticed his limbs hung downwards over his joints.
“P-Please put me back…” Spyro mumbled, still being largely influenced by his sleepy state.
“Put you back?!” Cynder said laughingly. “Not after all the things you’ve indirectly inflicted upon me!”
“W-What is it then…” the purple dragon mumbled in response, drowsily dangling back and forth as if he were a bat.
“The fact that you slept in my cleavage overnight caused me my own sleeping issues, plus your squirming made me feel as if I caught a serious disease! That enough for you?!” Cynder said dominatingly.
“Heh… that’s funny… I never thought of you as a hypochondriac,” Spyro giggled, in conformity with his currently cheeky attitude. “Now… could you please put me back… in your breasts? I’m not fully awake yet…”

That response made Cynder want to just throw him across the bedroom. But she couldn’t - despite his impudence, it was her own friend, Spyro! But after a short second of processing the cheeky retort, Cynder came up with the perfect idea. Though it was spur-of-the-moment, it was a surefire way to give him his due discipline and a nice dose of his own medicine.
“So you want me to stick you back into my cleavage again, huh?” Cynder said, suddenly changing her tone from agitated to innocent. Besides that, Spyro now also noticed her wide grin.
“It’d be a pleasure…”
Spyro was ready to get back and relax between Cynder’s breasts, but he didn’t quite get what he expected. Not at all. Cynder let out a scoffing chuckle before stuffing him all the way down her cleavage. Once he had completely disappeared, she began to tightly squish her breasts together. Directly after, she felt Spyro kick and squirm around in her cleavage, while simultaneously pleading for her to stop smothering him so roughly. As Cynder put her ear closer to her bosom, she could hear all the muffled apologies he was spouting - something she happily ignored as she continued to smother her breasts against each other, now even firmer. Even though her zealous squishing left the poor purple dragon at a breath deficiency, she made sure some air could seep into her cleavage from above and below. She giggled in satisfaction as she identified several of Spyro’s garbled phrases as variants of “I’m sorry”, but she kept squishing him. After everything she went through, Cynder felt she was in her rightful position for a payback.
“Oh, and from now on, your shrinking potions will be in a place where only I have access to them.”