Another little story sparked by this Pooka infatuation, sort of a silly, chubby sequel to the first one ( http://www.furaffinity.net/view/15445497/ ). Helped me likewise suss out Miriam a bit more and get more attached to her as a character.

Anyway, here's a story about two buns getting closer to each other, with one loving to stuff the other, and the other loving to be stuffed! And then taking it a wee bit too far...
(Story added below due to a technical issue with reuploads)
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"Oh, no, dearie, please put the knife down, would you?" Miriam groaned. As much progress had been made, there were so many things to break down, too. That was why this dinner party was happening tonight, though.
"Ah..y-you sure, ma petite amie? I mean...zere's...what else am I to do with eet?" Ariadne countered, sounding a little miffed. Araenids always kept the steak knife ready. Just in case someone tried to cut them down, they'd have -something- to fight back with! Though it was a habit more meant for someone with four arms, so presently, eating was a little tricky.
Miriam sighed, giving Ariadne a tired, exasperated look, though tempered by a bemused grin. "Aaauhhf...yes, I'm quite sure. Trust me darling, I had my few assassination scares before, but by this point, -no one- is going to try and kill you. Especially not down here." The baker continued, stirring her chicken au gratin about, resting her head against her hand as she did so. Oh well...she had made progress, even so, smiling a bit more as Ariadne set the knife down, nibbling out another bite from her own chicken. She had something much sweeter to look forward to, namely a whole pile of cinnabuns sitting in the middle of their little table...
Ever since her epiphany, Ariadne had grown much more withdrawn. She enjoyed her work, but had sunk a bit further into her solitude, ignoring all else. She didn't seem to mind, and absolutely loved when a customer came in to put her skills to the test, to create dresses she could truly call masterpieces once more, but she barely went out, reluctant to really associate beyond business, still. She likewise had some old habits that stuck out sorely in comparison to typical Pooka etiquette, remnants of her old Araenid upbringing...
To fix this, Miriam had started a little regimen for her dearest. She'd give lessons and encourage Ariadne to go out more, visit her clients, neighbors, and maybe live things up a bit, and in return, Miriam would reward the tailor with a nice treat for her efforts: the best of Miriam's work for the day, creme puffs and cinnamon rolls and cakes and any sort of delectable delight Ariadne could now imagine! And how well it had worked! In a few days, she'd worked Ariadne into coming down daily to share their meals together; in another two weeks, she'd helped her work out a vast number of old Araenid traditions that would have frozen any other dinner or party dead with the sinister or paranoid undertones; definitely a plus down here.
Miriam, of course, was more than happy to pamper her dear any other time, and when the seamstress asked, she gladly furnished the bun with enough treats to floor her. In fact, it seemed Ariadne had grown quite the sweet tooth; Miriam's stock was running low, and she was having to gather more and more to keep the pace with her other customers as well! But it was worth it to see her...aheh, 'petite amie' so happy, opening up and delightful. And it paid off with how snuggly the darling had become, so personal and intimate! Oh, it warmed Miriam's heart to see the ex-arachnid so happy...
Miriam admittedly watching Ariadne come down the stairs every morning. Ariadne knew this and always gave the baker a little wave and smooch before having breakfast. The lessons continued, and progressively, Ariadne opened up a bit more, going out on the town more often, visiting and chatting with the neighbors...but, most often, she would come to Miriam, be it for companionship or for snacks. The latter had an amusing habit of leading to the former however, so either worked for her.
As the weeks passed, however, Miriam began to notice something rather adorable about her dear; she was getting increasingly plump off of the baker's work! The ex-arachnid didn't mention a thing about it, simply kept a stiff upper lip and carried on with her day. She was still a haughty one, Miriam noted, even as personable as she'd become. She'd knew how it was, having been a former duchess; noblewomen had to keep up a certain air, no matter their looks, and even she sometimes threw her former reputation about, when she felt it was needed to settle something. But it amused Miriam to no end to see the way her figure jiggled ever so slightly, or to -feel- how her hips, belly, and especially that tush smushed oh-so-gently against Miriam's paws when they were alone. Thoughts like -that- set Miriam's heart aflutter, and her cheeks aglow! Hence, she was more than happy to encourage it, loving to snuggle oh-so-close to her dearest cushion.
It was a few nights later that the baker admitted her developing...passion for her figure. They were curled up on the couch one night, sharing scones and tea, snuggled close. Miriam was teasingly brushing Ariadne's rounded cheeks, coaxing stifled giggles from the ex-arachnid, and squirms from those tender pawings at her tum. It was pretty hard for Ariadne not to realize what her dearest loved already, but Miriam felt it fitting to be direct.
"M-mmmf...oh, darling, your ...you've certainly grown~, and how I adore it...so soft, so plush, to match the you that's come out..." She purred, reaching under the cushions to rub and paw at Ariadne's ample rear, coercing a shiver out of her rotund lover. Indeed, Ariadne looked rather chubby now, with a belly that hung over her hips, said hips being nice and curvaceous now, and thighs that would keep jiggling well after she'd stopped moving. She'd gained a good ...25 or so pounds? Miriam could only guess, but she definitely enjoyed the extra stuffing on her darling, filling out half the couch already...
The seamstress blushed, grinning back at her dear and gently pulling her darling up on that plush tum, hugging her in close from behind. "Ooooh~? Well, I suppose I have...ah, put on just a bit, non?" That was certainly an understatement if ever there was one, seeing as she could serve as the baker's own seat.
Pawing at her chest, Miriam nodded, curling up close and cozy. "Mmm-hmm. And you look all the more lovely for it..."
The ex-Araenid smirked, blushing a bit as she considered what she was about to say. "Well, if you put it -zat- way...I'll just have to get as big as I possibly can! If, of course, my dearest doesn't mind providing ze stuffing, mhmhmhm~!" She drew her in close for a tight hug, sighing. With but the slightest nod, Miriam pressed in against her dear, beaming wide. Oh, there was no way she could regret this...
Miriam was coming to regret this. Ever since that night, Ariadne had made it a point to stuff herself silly every free moment she could find, and Miriam often was there to give her an encouraging bellyrub and a tray full of delight to keep her going! This had been a delight, of course, and they'd both come to love every moment of it. Miriam could tell, from the sincere, albeit aimless grin on her near-comatose amore's face, the immodest, ecstatic moaning as she rubbed and massaged that groaning, burbling tum into docility, the way she felt so warm, leaning in to smush deep against those roving, gentle paws...Oh gods, Miriam was swooning at the mere thought of it all!
That all sounded absolutely fine, but there were downsides to it. A week later, Ariadne had started skimping on her own work, practically abandoning it to guzzle down whatever Miriam would provide...or whatever she could filch. Troubling, Miriam thought. But she was willing to carry on because, admittedly, it was just -too good-, too cute to resist, how her belly gurgled and sloshed, how padded and cushy it'd become! How her tush shook, bulged well over any chair she chose to plant it in... Ah, vice~. But it really sunk in by the second week.
Soon, Ariadne herself was starting to strain as certain symptoms came together. As she swelled out, the added weight had nothing to support it beyond her meagre frame. She grew short of breath, panting when she reached the bottom of the stairs, having to take a break when she went out to market...a few days later, she had to take a breather just after leaving the house. By another week, she was heaving, collapsing onto the final step of the stairs to catch her breath, before simply giving up and returning upstairs to collapse into bed, drenched in sweat and groaning in exhaustion. She had grown so absurdly large, so wide and outright obese, she required two seats to support herself during meals (assuming she'd made it downstairs), and even then they creaked, straining under her considerable mass. As much as Miriam loved the feel of so much plump rabbit, seeing her dear go -this- far terrified her. It wasn't natural, it wasn't cute any more, and her sweetheart had gotten too sweet to possibly survive...something had to be done.
Another night, the two had gathered at the dinner table. Ariadne quaked uncertainly on her two chairs, listening nervously as they groaned quietly beneath her quivering rump. She leaned in on the table, nearly warping the wood in moments, while Miriam watched her carefully. Tonight had been 'good', far as things could be. Ariadne had managed to work up the will to get to the table without immediately passing out, with some help. Her expression was out of sorts with her: very somber, nervously biting at her lips as she went over what she was about to do. What -had- to be done, by this point. Ariadne watched her expectantly, noting that strange look and looking worried herself. Well...hrrmph. One more treat wouldn't hurt. Miriam slid off her chair and went behind the counter of her kitchen. Scooping a cinnamon bun up on a plate, she returned and set it down in front of Ariadne, before balling one hand up in the other and staring down at the table.
Finally, she let out a pent-up breath, closing her eyes. "A-Ariadne...You know I love how...soft you are, right?" Her ears drooped, even as she opened her eyes again and looked her lover dead-on. She had taken several bites out of the glazed bun already, not even bothering with the utensils. Goodness, soft didn't cover it. She had two chins, cheeks as wide as cantaloupes, and a belly that practically hung over her knees, so weighted and plush it was.
The tailor nodded and beamed, swallowing down her mouthful and licking her lips. She was smiling, certainly, but it was stained with nervousness (and spots of cinnamon); she knew this wasn't just another bout of treats. "O-oui, but awf cauwsh, mah chehwee. An' I wuv it when yuh cuddwe wiff moi..." Oh, goodness, that -lisp-, too! She even sounded soft, her words as round and mushy as she! Miriam was quivering; it was so tempting to just throw all of this aside and leap clean over the table, wrap her arms around her dearest and just pamper her senseless. But no. As soft as she was, she was barely able to do anything for herself anymore. She needed help -bathing- by this point, she was so limited by her plushness. To let this continue further would be the end of them both.
"W-well..." Her voice quivered, but she gripped on the rim of the table and steeled herself. Her voice grew solid as well. "I do, dear. So, so much, everything about your folds, your burgeoning figure, how soft and giving and cozy it all is...but I'm afraid," She sighed, "we've taken it much too far. You...I...goodness, dear, you can't even make it down the stairs without having to collapse on the couch! You've stopped working, you ...you've been stealing from my kitchen, and just...all around, I'm terrified that at this rate you might just wheeze yourself to pieces, that you'd have to literally be rolled everywhere like a massive doughball!"
The tailor stared at her sweet, aghast. Miriam almost winced, her look softening to one of honest concern. Still, it hurt her to have to be so...so blunt about this with her dearest, but it was either that or have to roll her everywhere, clean her daily...and risk losing her to her own gluttony. Already the dear was heaving, whimpering at the implications.
"Yes...I'm sorry, dear. I'm...I'm afraid we'll have to cut back on the treats. That means a diet." The baker stood up suddenly, her chair skittering back behind her. She slowly rounded the table and sighed, pressing in to hug her quivering, sweating love, who mewled.
"Wh-whuh...buh..yuh'we shewiush, Miwiam? But I though' you wiked meh dish big..." The plump bunroll mewled out, unsure what to do with herself now.
"I do, I do, but I also like you being able to do your own thing, let alone be able to walk on your own. Please...hun, I can't imagine tiring yourself just getting out of bed can feel all that pleasant. Or lumbering down the stairs, only to need the whole rest of the day to catch your breath..."
"I...wehl...iff id'wl make yuh happy, mah petit amee...s'why moi got dish big tuh staw' wiff..." Licking her fingers clean, she strained to bend her arms together, pulling the darling baker in close. Sniffling a bit, she met cheeks with her...this was going to be a difficult road to tread, but...if it helped put her sweetest at ease, it was worth it.
Difficult was only the start. As soon as the next day, Ariadne was started on her very, very strict diet. Gone were the sweets and sticky, sugary delights, in came simple, hardy vegetables and fruits, the occasional meat dish (all lovingly prepared, of course, so that even then the ex-spider could hopefully enjoy it). Miriam began to sleep down in her kitchen, and even when awake, guarded her wares like a hawk. She didn't like having to deny her sweetheart like so, but she couldn't have any surreptitious binging toss her love back over the edge. Even if it meant whapping her paws with a mixing spoon to ward her off. Thankfully, within a few weeks' time, the seamstress was making progress. With new-found energy from her healthier meals, she had regained the stamina to clear the stairwell with little more than light panting. Another two weeks, and she'd made it to the market before having to take a breather once more. Such was rewarded with those treasured cinnamon rolls she so enjoyed; one or two wouldn't hurt, if Miriam could still keep a close eye on her dear's consumption, right? Though...admittedly the occasional lapse left her with a whole cake to indulge upon. She couldn't bring herself to resist that adoring, begging face -all- the time, after all.
It was saddening to hear the lisp go, to see all those cherished layers of cushiony flub fly off, but she was still quite delighted to see her sweetheart back in her former glory. Able to perform her own work, to get about for herself, to become once more self-reliant...but of course, by that point, Miriam thought Ariadne had done well enough and called off the diet. She'd still wanted -some- plush blubber on her sweetheart, and as much as she yearned for a little more, just a tinge more cushioning to those wide thighs and that soft tush...it was good enough just to be able to sink her paws into those cheeks and wiggle them around, to hear her sweetest murmur and giggle. She was still her sweetest, softest cushion, after all...