FA+
Shop
13535
Views
Views
94
Favorites
Favorites
Category
Story / Fat Furs
Species Horse
Size 120 x 103
File Size 67 kB
Report this content
More from CapnSqueaks
Twilight's date is finally in full swing at the fanciest restaurant in Ponyville! But her inner demons and doubts are also fully awakened and drive her to question everything about the new and different situation even before it starts. It's when her date Snack Mix arrives and the meal begins that fears give way to vivid and surreal fantasies about feeding and gaining...leading to Twilight once again wondering about her sanity.
But can Snack Mix and maybe a certain goddess help her to pacify her mind?
--
A request by a good friend an talented author TheConflicted: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/theconflicted/
Based on his own concept!
--
Now this tale is improved dramatically, thanks to the skillful (an highly generous) editing of shockblock99: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/shockblock99/
--
Full on fantasy weight gain ahoy in this chapter!
--
Snack Mix is based on Alterpony by Lesang: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/8173864/
Twilight Discovers Her Fat Fetish
Part 4: The Way to a Man’s Heart
She took a deep breath, unconsciously adjusted her dress, and finally after much deliberation firmly pushed open the doorway.
The Meadow Lark was an establishment she only knew through Rarity as a fancier eatery than most in Ponyville, but beyond that Twilight knew nothing. Apparently it was part restaurant and part garden with the tables, with chairs set up within the overarching framework of a greenhouse, paved pathways leading to widely spaced patron arrangements, and polite waiters and waitresses conveying the meals and drinks. There were fountains, flowers, overhanging trees and the muted, flickering lights of magical smokeless braziers that flickered over the fine tablecloths and fancy furniture. It all looked entirely too fancy for the setting of one casual date and for the first time she became sharply aware of just how expensive this all might promise to be before the night was through.
Another twinge made itself known in her spine and she cast nervous looks at the groups of ponies already seated and enjoying themselves. It was a long moment before she was satisfied she didn’t know enough of them to be recognized.
“Does Madame have a reservation?” It was a maître d’ she hadn’t even noticed standing beside her until she’d spoken.
“I- no.” Twilight flashed a sheepish grin. “Do I need one?”
“Not as such.” Her expression was professionally impassive. “Following Hearts and Hooves there’s a drop off for most of the summer.”
Twilight shifted her weight around restlessly. “It still looks pretty crowded.”
“We always are, madam. Just less so at certain times.” She sighed. “I’ll see about your table. You are free to enjoy the gardens until then.”
“It-it’s a table for two!” Twilight sputtered out as the pony turned to go. “Me and, um, a friend!”
“Very well, madam.”
Twilight looked upwards through the glass roof and consulted the stars beginning to creep through the darkness above. She had some time left until he arrived. Things would be prepared by then, surely. Then again…
As she wandered the lush foyer looking casually at the clustered blossoms, verdant topiaries, trailing vines and dancing jets of water it seemed less and less like this was real somehow. It was all entirely too dreamlike. For one thing she was by herself. In the old days this might have been something she relied on, but after years of confidence in five wonderful friends just going out and doing something without them felt liberating. At the same time it was terrifying. Even in the times before that she’d relied on Spike to at the very least be on hand as a witness. Now there was no one to help her or encourage her, critique her or judge her. No one, except for herself.
And Twilight knew herself. She was a harsh critic to have.
How did one know what to do? What to say? This was certainly just a date but she knew, or at the least feared, her own ulterior motives. Did she want something more from Snack Mix, and this was a formulized front for it? There was a desire in her for some sort of ownership and control and it felt like a conscious betrayal of her every principle. Still there was no denying the want, the need aching in her breast and nesting in the corners of her mind.
But she couldn’t let it show. She had to let the evening pass without incident. Dates were supposed to be fun, or at least she’d heard it said so. Wouldn’t hiding what she truly felt be dishonest though, even if just to herself? What would Applejack think of that?
Twilight curled her hooves around her head. Sometimes you could say what you felt. Sometimes you yourself didn’t know exactly and sometimes, with the way everything worked, you felt beyond your ability to stay level and calm. Pricking your hoof on a sharp stone caused you to jerk back without meaning to. When it was warm you felt yourself beginning to sweat. This is how she felt about Snack Mix: unconscious, instinctual, spontaneous reaction. As raw and uncontrolled as a pony could get.
And speaking of sweating, it felt awfully hot in here. She hoped all her nervous pacing and perspiration didn’t ruin her dress before he even bothered to show. He would show, right? Maybe.
Maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe this would be the one time when disappointment led to something not entirely unwelcome. If Snack Mix didn’t show she wouldn’t have to do anything about this situation at all. She could trot out, go home, take off this clingy, scratchy dress and maybe get some decent sleep. The maître d’ would probably be glad to be rid of her common-ness. She wouldn’t have to spend a single bit, although she would have gladly emptied her saddle bags of them to leave right at this moment and not look back.
Why wouldn’t he come though? Any number of reasons, really. Colts were fickle things. He might forget or be too lazy to leave his home or get stuck in the doorway or something. He was well on his way to being hefty enough for the latter to pose a risk. Maybe he’d decide she wasn’t attractive enough and stay home.
Yes, colts were fickle things. Fickle, thoughtless, indolent, gluttonous, superficial, awful, wonderful, gorgeous, sumptuous, magnificent...
Twilight blinked. Somewhere along the line her train of thought had collided with another traveling in the opposite direction. She noticed a well-dressed couple was eyeing her curiously from their table. She looked at herself, suddenly concerned for appearances, and noticed that her pacing was beginning to wear a groove in the grass of the foyer. Oh.
After relocating to a bench, she picked up the pieces of her rhetorical musing. Yes, he might not come after all. He might get stuck. He might get lost. He might get hurt. Maybe something had happened to him. Maybe he wasn’t here yet because he literally, physically couldn’t come despite his longing to do so. Maybe he’d taken a shortcut and was being chased by timber wolves as she sat her! Maybe he’d been captured and cooked by a rouge colony of cannibals, or he’d been turned into stone by a cockatrice to stand forever, alone until he was covered in creepers and he crumbled into dust!
She had to stand up. Suddenly she’d become very dizzy and needed the solid feel of ground under her hooves again to steady herself. She took two long, deep breaths. Maybe he’d decide she wasn’t attractive enough and stay home. For some reason that was easier to stomach then the thought that he was in danger.
Twilight Sparkle’s life hadn’t been a terrible one by any stretch, but it had generally been full of consternation, overt or otherwise. It seemed prudent to imagine that in this case, like so many others before, too good to be true was just that. If he wasn’t dead, he wouldn’t show up, and she could handle that. She wasn’t a filly. She was a big pony. Disillusionment was no stranger and she welcomed the simplicity a setback in this freewheeling and chaotic spur-of-the-moment plan of hers might provide.
It was all too much too quickly. She could just walk away now. Even if he did show up she’d be gone and she wouldn’t have face what she felt any longer…
“Your table is ready, madam.” A waiter, presumably theirs. Hers.
With the stolid determination of a condemned prisoner Twilight followed the colt as he led her to a table off to the side of the others under the boughs of a beautiful palm. Bushes, carefully trimmed and bristling with appetizing flowers, flanked both sides and provided privacy fo a sort. Candlelight from three tall sticks shined onto a bottle resting next to the menu.
“Compliments of the house.” Her waiter smirked ever-so-slightly, “Our head chef is an incurable romantic.”
“Th- thank you!” Twilight managed to say just after he’d walked out of earshot. “But we’re just friends…”
Taking a seat at the table felt like trampling upon hallowed ground. Everything was pristine and clean and crisp, from the cushions to the napkin she didn’t dare unravel from the rosebud shape some dexterous pony had woven it into beside her plate. She hesitated and deliberated a long time before calling forth the menu to read. Doing so felt like a commitment.
Funny. There weren’t any prices mentioned: just the items and how they were prepared. They all looked very good. Her stomach agreed. Loudly. She had deliberately forgone lunch to at least make dinner worthwhile. Also, come to think of it, she’d forgotten breakfast. For the past few days.
“What’s wrong with you, Twilight?” She’d muttered it out loud. As luck would have it, in this little corner of The Meadow Lark none of the other diners could hear, even if they hadn’t been chatting amongst themselves and rattling silverware or clinking glasses together.
Luna’s letter had provided a little bit of clarity. She hadn’t expected ever to receive correspondence from The Princess of the Moon, but in retrospect she was glad to have a third party to consult. Celestia would always be her mentor and guide, but the more perspectives one could tap the clearer a understanding could be brought about on any number of things. Maybe Luna’s perspective differed from Celestia in this purview. No, she thought back to her encounters with the two, it definitely did.
It was good to have another opinion to draw on. But wasn’t love supposed to feel… different? Good? Love wasn’t supposed to feel so mixed up. Love wasn’t supposed to gnaw at your insides. Love wasn’t supposed to feel grubby and irregular. And why? Why the longing? It all seemed misplaced and wrong. She liked his attitude, the way he said things. She liked his sense of humor and shyness.
But most of all, and only honesty could make her admit, she LOVED his size. That couldn’t be normal. Could it?
Did Rainbow Dash like her flying companions on the heavy side? Did Rarity prefer dressing wider customers? Did Applejack show more interest in cider customers with a tighter belt? Was Fluttershy drawn to colts that reminded her of animals preparing to hibernate?
Did Pinkie… Um.
A headache started to brew under Twilight’s brow. Trying to visualize the type of companion Pinkie would be interested in was such an intensely surreal experience. Twilight quickly gave it up.
What about Celestia? According to a tabloid picture released awhile back (subsequently banned from all further publication) she did enjoy her cake. Maybe the type of company she preferred had equal attitudes towards deserts?
And what of Luna? Had her heart been lifted by a pudgy stallion in the past? Questions without answers but they kept her mind from her original question at least. What was wrong with her?
Why did logic bid a fond farewell when her eyes clapped on the slope of such a wide, healthy flank? Why did she want so desperately to cram a huge slice of rich cake into that adorable grin? Or two? Why did she want to lay a hoof on his warm, fuzzy chest, and feel it rise and fall as he breathed and continue to rise as he indulged heedlessly?
Twilight could sense the knowing smirk spreading her lips and could practically feel a gleam stealing into her eyes. On impulse she shook her head hard enough to hurt. But as her vision reeled back into focus she saw that same lopsided, bashful grin again. Only this time it was real.
“Hi.” Snack Mix raised his hoof, thought better of it, and let it fall to his side. First impressions were everything. He might look enticingly like he’d somehow put on weight between their meeting yesterday and this evening but she had to stay on point. Had to. Dazzle him with her wordplay and wit. Some kind of powerful opener he’d remember forever, even if this didn’t work out! Come on Twilight, pull it together!
“Hi.” She said, raising a hoof briefly.
“Can I have a seat?”
Twilight’s left eye twitched. “Of course!”
“Thanks.” The chair groaned as Snack Mix settled his significant burden onto it. The way his abdomen extended, with it’s courageous tuxedo still hugging it with nary a rip, he was still forced to sit several inches away from the lip of the table. Once settled, he wiped his brow. Twilight could see how he was blatantly nervous. Did she look that way? Unconsciously she brushed a hoof over her bangs.
“Sorry I’m late. To be honest I, um.” He clacked his horseshoes together timidly.
“You?” Twilight twirled her hoof.
“I g- go- ” He grimaced and hissed through clenched teeth, “I got hungry.”
“You got hungry? Really?”
“I know. It’s kinda tacky right before a date, but it was a long day and I needed to pick something up since the gallop over here was pretty tiring. It was just a light salad or two.” Twilight nodded, her stare unfocused. She could barely hear him mumble out, “Or four.” Her legs unconsciously clenched.
“I’m still hungry though!” Snack Mix chuckled, patting his gut affectionately. “They handed me this menu on the way in. Everything here certainly seems very expensive! I mean good! It all looks great. Yeah.”
“My menu doesn’t have any prices on it.”
“Really?”
“Nope,” Twilight blushed. “I think they might have given you the menu with the prices so I could choose without worrying about them. It’s a traditional practice among high-class restaurants to give the colts the prices so their, um, lady can choose her heart’s content without guilt. Outdated chivalry. Silly, huh?”
“Huh. Why would that be silly? Sounds all right to me.”
“Well...” Twilight drew a hoof over the ground. “Technically I was going to pay for the food myself. Yours too.”
“Call me old fashioned, but I’ll cover the lot.” Snack Mix chuckled and said, “I just got my bits from work. And besides, I’m seriously starving so I can’t expect you to cover for all that!”
“Oh,” Twilight muttered. “Erm, technically this manual on dating stated the instigator of the date is supposed to pay the bill.”
“What’s the date on that manual?”
“Um…” Twilight tapped her forehead with her hovering spoon in thought. “A few years ago?”
“Well, how about I do it just this once?” He hoisted his bag of bits to the table of a sparkling trail of golden magic. Fairly heavy, it landed with a sizable THUD. Just like the colt. “We don’t always have to do things by the book.”
“Wait, we don’t?” Twilight gaped. Snack Mix must have been worried she was having some kind of attack she looked so shocked and so still for so long.
“Don’t mention it.” He picked up his menu to break the uneasy stillness. His eyes, half shielded by the menu, darted increasingly quickly between the lists and pictures. “See anything you like?”
--
“Ah! I am STUFFED!” Snack Mix chuckled, his front wobbling with each shudder the buttons of his tux stressed to their constraint. “Celestia fetlocks, that was a feast! No mistake about it! Just one more wee bite and I might have just-” He looked up as if noticing Twilight for the first time and his cheeks flushed. She sat in stunned silence, unblinking. “It’s just a figure of speech,” he added shamefaced. “I don’t think I could actually…. You probably think that’s a weird thing for me to even- Never mind. ‘S just a little joke.”
His companion shook her head slowly back and forth.
“So, did you enjoy your own meal?”
“Uh huh…”
“Say, you wouldn’t mind if I ordered dessert?”
“Uh huh…”
Twilight blinked. “I mean…sure.” She murmured, smiling sheepishly. “Dessert sounds nice. Really!”
“You know, you sure look cute when you smile.”
“Thanks…” Her lips moved and sounds leaked out. But her eyes were watching another scene unfold.
--
Magic can do any number of things and work in any number of ways, some more subtle then others. Certainly at the moment she didn’t know an appetite jinx, but one surely had to exist: one strong enough to convince Snack Mix to do what he’d do by nature. Only much more so. There would be a cap on his hunger eventually. When things got crowded he’d want to stop as anyone might. There was a stretch limit on even the most practiced stomach, the point when it started to complain.
By concentrating, by keeping the glow of her horn low so it was nearly invisible even in the flickering light she could focus her own longing into him. Like a knot of desire, deep in his chest. Set the wheel spinning. She grinned in triumph when his eyes widened and his lips moistened.
“Woah! A moment ago I was packed to the gills, but now, now I feel like I could eat a mountain!”
“What a coincidence!” the waiter chirped, stepping into frame. “We happen to have an oversize colossal gigantic gut-buster chocolate cake made to order!” And just like that he wheeled in a groaning trolley with the largest cake she had ever witnessed. Seven layers of chocolate with decadence dripping from every expertly placed line of frosting and lovingly set candy. The top of the cake, adorned with a heavy-set stallion carved from pure rich chocolate, almost brushed the lowest boughs of the palm covering their table. Even Pinkie Pie would probably have turned pale and keeled over from the sight of something so majestic. So perfect. So massive and thick and full of expanding calories.
It was three times the size of Snack Mix, surely impossible for a single pony to handle. But that was about to change.
“That’s quite a dessert,” he gulped. “I just- I can’t possibly fit all that in…” He was already hers. She risked a tiny flare at the tip of her horn for a boost in his need.
“Still,” he panted, “I’m SO hungry!” The waiter seemed pleased as could be to cut out sizable slices, each in turn oozing with more thick chocolate filling that pooled and dripped from the plate. When they came within range of Snack Mix’s eager fork they were devoured in a few fevered moments of need and gluttony, leaving behind only a gooey, crumb spattered mess on the platter. And the table. And around his quivering lips.
His tongue darted out and tried to salvage the stains around his mouth. “I’ve got to have stowed way more then even I take in at a sitting,” he burbled wearily. “Still, I feel like there’s a deep hole in me I just can’t fill up. What’s going on?”
“Have another piece of cake and forget such things,” the waiter prompted. “Oh! To wash it down how about our famous mile-tall milkshakes? All you can drink!”
Slowly, the table became crowded with plates and glasses. Each of the dozen glass towers looked like an immense pitcher of ice cream and whipped topping. Even the cherries looked like small ruby red apples. Every single one was poured down his throat, flavor and volume both surely overwhelming.
In real life it had taken Snack Mix an entire fully stocked, heavy and rich meal to make his belly visibly gain in circumference. It would have taken at least a few days to graduate to another belt. So she had to subconsciously dial down his bloating body just to keep her suspension of disbelief preserved. Even if she wanted him to expand forever like nothing else, savoring it would be truly sweet.
And bloat Snack Mix did, beautifully, downing shakes with admirable, and adorable, speed and abandon. She could hear his escalating meal churning from where she was sitting. He faltered after only four gooey slices down but he was stretching superbly, groaning as he grew. When he did stop long enough for strained belching, he would always return his hoof to his paunch, flinching when he felt how tender and overblown it had become.
“Uggghhh. I feel so fuuuullll… s-so hungry… but so, so oooohhhh!” He tried to double over, only to fail to even up a crease in his taut, stretched gut. Apparently hunger pangs were part of the deal even if his hunger could not be satisfied. Oddly, Twilight didn’t mind this little oversight.
“Oouuoohhh, Celestia’s CROWN!” Finally Mix pulled away and leaned his bulk against the table, forcing a great divot in his swollen middle. A strange expression of relief and pain shot over him.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m either going to be sick, or I’m going to starve!” He looked nervous; stroked his surface with concern. “I…I don’t think I’ve ever been this big before…” He was going to stop!
She couldn’t have it. Her magic drew up a random shake and practically dumped it into his face. He had to either drink or drown, but it wasn’t much of a struggle to choose. By this time he’d primed his body for gorging and it only took that little push to align everything in him properly. He squeezed his eyes shut, gulping the enormous shake to the dregs, at least what hadn’t run all over his face. But he was smiling while he drank now. The cool dense beverage must have felt divine washing against his burning urge to consume.
Another shake upended itself before he changed his mind. Now his reflexes were finely tuned to receive and imbibe. The shake, all of it, vanished into his greedy gullet, leaving only a single trickle of chocolate to run from the corner of his mouth. His own magic unconsciously scraped what little remained in the glass.
Twilight’s desire grew red-hot. She wanted more. She wanted HIM to want more and more! The middleman character of the waiter was moving too slowly. Thanks to dream logic Twilight replaced him at the heaving colt’s glorping side. In a sane part of her mind, she noticed that she was dressed as the maître d’ was. She supposed, with what little rational thought she was still operating on, it only seemed right. She was his server and he was the perfect customer.
That and who better to feed the colt of her dreams then someone professional?
From the surrounding tables her magic snatched up muffins, a myriad of pasteries, stuffed mushrooms, baked potatoes shimmering with fat and cheese. She uncorked bottles of champagne and let them drain into his muzzle, making his midriff fizz violently and balloon.
“Arrrghh!” grunted Snack Mix. “C-coat! Buttons. Belt too tight!” His rump dominated the chair and his front was making throbbing breaks for freedom through the expensive fabric of his coat and pants. That belt was cutting painfully into his enormity. It seemed the compassionate thing to do to lean over and bite it in half. There was an audible growl and slosh as his gut sprung to its fullest once free. The table scooted backwards a foot to make room, pushing some of the loaded plates into precarious positions, and closer to his mouth. The buttons burst from the shock and ricocheted off into the bushes.
Snack Mix sighed in relief. “Holy-BUCK! That was intense!” But it wasn’t over. She summoned the contents of a nearby table overflowing with delights and one by one crammed them dutifully into his muffled mouth.
The only protest that actually got out was the constant rumbling of his distended stomach. Once again, Snack Mix proved the power of his cutie mark by making short work of everything he was forced to take. Every bowl and drink stuffed into his face was decimated. But somewhere he seemed to know this wasn’t right and quietly whimpered between swallows and the keen gurgling that signaled a fresh wave of enlargement.
All bets were off and her fantasy kicked into full throttle. The speed at which she fed to him anything in reach was dizzying and his throat worked and widened with equal velocity. His whimpering turned into guttural moans of bliss. The chair began to bend under what must have been a ton of stallion by this point. That silly tux tore to pieces like a brittle shell that was keeping the glorious fat underneath trapped. Still she kept at it. Harder! Faster! MORE!
His tail section puffed up too wide to contain and his pants split at the seams. The pressure inside his spherical body must have been nigh explosive. Now his taxed digestion, every burble and slosh, that constant wave of heavenly sound was a symphony in her ears.
He was immobile now: a great cushion of quivery lard. She felt like she could do this forever. Maybe he could too? The chair broke with the sound of a thunderclap followed by the louder sound still of his impossible weight falling flat, shattering the floor. A blazing spike of passion and pleasure spread through Twilight’s very core.
--
“You’re really not going to touch your cake?”
Twilight hadn’t closed her eyes. Not once. It wasn’t awakening so much as ‘coming to’ in the most literal sense. The after images of her flight of fancy danced in her imagination, tormenting her and tempting her to come back. Deep down, she knew how close she was to literally blurring fantasy and reality. Quickly glancing at the stars, she determined that it had only been minutes if that since she slipped out of reality and into… whatever it was she had just experienced.
It wasn’t right. It wasn’t natural! This had to be the work of an evil hex! Or- or a curse!
“Well, if you’re not going to eat it…” Snack Mix grinned despite himself. “Maybe you wouldn’t mind if I did?” She quietly shook her head.
Golden light sprouted from his horn, grabbed her plate and tugged it towards him. He really had gained some as the evening wore on; the tux was practically breaking but he’d had the good sense to undo several top buttons himself before his size started popping them free. His devouring of the cake was something to see, wolfing down huge lumps at a time. Twilight’s visions of her appetite spell came back to her with startling abruptness.
Fear trickled into her consciousness. Was she affecting him now? Was just thinking about it going to send him over the edge into that monumentally corpulent behemoth? She wouldn’t force him to become immobile and stuffed into a giant pillow colt.
Not if he didn’t want to be. And even if he did, which he couldn’t, she wouldn’t do something so outlandish! She was a sensible mature pony of learning and level-headedness. Sure she might have had an extensive lapse, but that didn’t mean it meant anything. She didn’t, she really didn’t, really want him to…
She felt a pang in her own chest as Snack Mix finished the cake, leaving his plate spotless. Licked clean, she noted with a twitch. “I guess I joined the clean plate club, hmm?” he winked. “Something mom used to say.” She forced out a feeble laugh. What was wrong with her? Why did she feel so worn-out?
“Huh…” Snack Mix prodded his middle as his fore hoof sprang back again and again. Each push sent a little wave over his soft body. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this big before!”
Twilight shuddered. “Um. You’re feeling all right, right?”
“Oh sure!” Snack Mix beamed. “Just that once I start in I sometimes forget to stop. I bet there’s something you do that makes you feel like that too, right?”
“Organizing.” Twilight said with only a moment’s consideration.
“Oh?” Snack Mix’s attention seemed more focused on the desert menu lying on the table then Twilight.
“Are you… still hungry?” She felt like kicking herself. That MUST have sounded as desperate as she was afraid she was.
“Uh, no.” Snack Mix said quietly. “No more for me thanks. All full up.” Still he levitated the menu and consulted it.
“So why the menu?” She fiddled her hooves against each other, working out her newfound energy.
“Hmm?” He blinked and licked his lips. Twilight recognized the look of somepony prying themself out of an inner reverie. He must have mentally tasted everything on the page by the longing in his expression.
“Why don’t you order something?”
“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly…” As if to assure himself of his own fullness he patted his chest again. He was fairly bloated for a normal colt. But nowhere near satiated, as Twilight and Snack Mix both knew. “Just a little sundae.” He said, tapping the menu. “Yes, that would be fine. Um. Maybe you could even share it with me?”
“That’s kind of you.”
“Thanks.” Snack Mix said, blushing. “Oh, waiter!”
When the sundae arrived, it clearly wasn’t any “regular” little. Twilight wanted to see what the larger sizes were as the bowl resting before him looked more like a trough. It was just natural curiosity.
“Yes!” he mouthed. Aloud he said, “Yeesh, this thing is kind of big!”
“It certainly is,” nodded Twilight. “Do you need any…?”
“Nope…” Snack Mix raised his spoon cautiously. “I’m good. It’s all good…” He looked reluctant to start, but when he did he fell back into his familiar, efficient rhythm of delving and delivery. Unlike her dream there was no immediate weight change, mores the pity, but he looked so harmonious in his work she couldn’t help but feel her own spirits surge as his bowl emptied. She loved to watch him, not just for how big he might become, but watching him be so very very happy. Doing what he was best at in the way only he could.
Twilight could never have been able to tell anypony at what point she ceased to be sitting across from Snack Mix and instead was standing over him, easing another spoon into the sundae and slipping it between his lips and his bulging cheeks. One alone might have managed this monster, but to finish it off it would take timework and precision. She could do precision, although she couldn’t have even dreamed one day to use her experience there to fatten up a colt.
Twilight heard the alien squeal of stretched fabric as his tuxedo began to be urged farther. He really was getting bigger! Her intention was to work the buttons off towards his midriff so the stress could be lessened. Fewer distractions could make this moment sweeter and last yet longer. All she had to do was lean down, reach under the table…
Her hoof felt something warm and soft. It wasn’t silk and it wasn’t buttons. It had a steady incline and mysteriously sank when she gave it a push. And rubbing it in a circle felt delicious: like running her hoof over the downiest pillow she had ever known. Snack Mix let out a sound she could only describe as a moan. Till this moment she might have associated this as the sound of somepony in distress, but she could tell that was not the reason for that noise. For a moment, everything just seemed perfect. When her eyes opened she realized what she was doing. His eyes opened only a few seconds later, and both looked at each other with profound embarrassment.
“I’m so sorry!” she sputtered, withdrawing her hoof from his bare belly. His under shirt had ridden up and his tux had finally split its last buttons.
“I’m so sorry!” Snack Mix said so close on the heels of Sparkle it sounded like an echo. “I really don’t know-”
“-what I was thinking of!” Twilight said, her words harmonizing with his perfectly. They stared into each other’s eyes.
“I think we better go home.” Snack Mix whispered.
“I think you’re right.” Twilight whispered back, nodding.
--
“So, thank you Ms. Sparkle. It’s been really… something!” Snack Mix said as they approached her library’s door. “Say, if I happened to do or said anything that seemed weird I’d like to take this time to-”
“Don’t worry about it.” Twilight said, forcing a grin. “We’ve all done things that seemed weird! No, really, trust me.”
“Uh huh.” He looked down and hastily used his magic to fiddle with some of the few buttons that could still be buttoned, tugging down his shirt almost to the bend before his hanging stomach. No amount of hauling could cover his chest and prominently protruding naval so he gave up on it quickly.
Twilight was suddenly acutely aware that her dress and hooves were spackled with chocolate and cream. She used a spot-remover spell to at least deaden as much of it as she could make out with a quick glance. Her hair though must have looked horrible. A feeling of profound embarrassment welled up inside her.
“Well…” She gestured at the door and it opened. Out of nowhere she found herself almost asking if he wanted to come in, but caught herself before she got beyond a sole movement of her fore hoof.
“I’d better be-” Snack Mix murmured.
“Me too.” said Twilight. “Well, Mr. Mix. It’s really been… thanks.”
“Thank you too. It was fun.”
“It was.”
There they stood in the moonlight for the longest time, letting the candle glow coming from inside cast flickering shadows over their rustled clothes and uncertain faces.
“I guess this is good night.” Snack Mix turned to go.
“Wait.”
He stopped in his tracks but didn’t turn around. Twilight wondered why he didn’t turn around and walk back towards her. Until she remembered that all she’d asked him was to ‘wait’.
“I…” That seemed to work a little bit. He turned around and then after a pause started walking towards her.
“Yes?”
“I…” Her voice was so quiet if there had been a breeze her word might have been lost. Snack Mix moved in, flicking his ear.
“Sorry?” he raised an eyebrow. “I can’t quite hear what you-”
She lunged forward with her muzzle. Her lips met his and to her surprise his full face seemed to surround her and bend ever so slightly inwards. Their snouts squashed together and for a time they remained locked. As her eyes closed, she could see just an instant of his doing the same. When they finally parted her breaths were shallow but rapid. It had been like kissing a cushion that smelled like chocolate.
He didn’t say anything before he turn and left for the last time. He didn’t have to. She had begun the kiss but he had continued it. Maybe it wouldn’t mean anything days from now, but tonight it meant the world.
“Do you have any idea what time it is,” yawned Spike, a pillow clutched in one claw and a candle in the other. Twilight kept her eyes focused on the stars. For some reason she couldn’t fathom this time she couldn’t tell the time by their light. All she saw was a stunning cosmos of glowing splendor that stirred her spirit. And those stars joining to form a robust charger she had seen hundreds of times before but never quite paid mind to now seemed disturbingly familiar.
Tonight, he looked even more handsome then ever.
--
Luna smiled a secret smile in her aerie. Realigning the stars may have been presumptuous of her so soon into her return, but while Celestia slept she felt no reason to disturb her for something as trivial as a little adjustment, so to speak, to a minor constellation.
She had always heard tales long ago that when a destined friend, one who would become truly and uniquely special to them, entered into a pony’s life the stars would confirm it. Maybe there was magic enough to see the stars change themselves, but in this instance she felt no guilt in helping them along.
Playing favorites? No doubt.
But a princess had that privilege at least sometimes, did she not?
But can Snack Mix and maybe a certain goddess help her to pacify her mind?
--
A request by a good friend an talented author TheConflicted: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/theconflicted/
Based on his own concept!
--
Now this tale is improved dramatically, thanks to the skillful (an highly generous) editing of shockblock99: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/shockblock99/
--
Full on fantasy weight gain ahoy in this chapter!
--
Snack Mix is based on Alterpony by Lesang: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/8173864/
Twilight Discovers Her Fat Fetish
Part 4: The Way to a Man’s Heart
She took a deep breath, unconsciously adjusted her dress, and finally after much deliberation firmly pushed open the doorway.
The Meadow Lark was an establishment she only knew through Rarity as a fancier eatery than most in Ponyville, but beyond that Twilight knew nothing. Apparently it was part restaurant and part garden with the tables, with chairs set up within the overarching framework of a greenhouse, paved pathways leading to widely spaced patron arrangements, and polite waiters and waitresses conveying the meals and drinks. There were fountains, flowers, overhanging trees and the muted, flickering lights of magical smokeless braziers that flickered over the fine tablecloths and fancy furniture. It all looked entirely too fancy for the setting of one casual date and for the first time she became sharply aware of just how expensive this all might promise to be before the night was through.
Another twinge made itself known in her spine and she cast nervous looks at the groups of ponies already seated and enjoying themselves. It was a long moment before she was satisfied she didn’t know enough of them to be recognized.
“Does Madame have a reservation?” It was a maître d’ she hadn’t even noticed standing beside her until she’d spoken.
“I- no.” Twilight flashed a sheepish grin. “Do I need one?”
“Not as such.” Her expression was professionally impassive. “Following Hearts and Hooves there’s a drop off for most of the summer.”
Twilight shifted her weight around restlessly. “It still looks pretty crowded.”
“We always are, madam. Just less so at certain times.” She sighed. “I’ll see about your table. You are free to enjoy the gardens until then.”
“It-it’s a table for two!” Twilight sputtered out as the pony turned to go. “Me and, um, a friend!”
“Very well, madam.”
Twilight looked upwards through the glass roof and consulted the stars beginning to creep through the darkness above. She had some time left until he arrived. Things would be prepared by then, surely. Then again…
As she wandered the lush foyer looking casually at the clustered blossoms, verdant topiaries, trailing vines and dancing jets of water it seemed less and less like this was real somehow. It was all entirely too dreamlike. For one thing she was by herself. In the old days this might have been something she relied on, but after years of confidence in five wonderful friends just going out and doing something without them felt liberating. At the same time it was terrifying. Even in the times before that she’d relied on Spike to at the very least be on hand as a witness. Now there was no one to help her or encourage her, critique her or judge her. No one, except for herself.
And Twilight knew herself. She was a harsh critic to have.
How did one know what to do? What to say? This was certainly just a date but she knew, or at the least feared, her own ulterior motives. Did she want something more from Snack Mix, and this was a formulized front for it? There was a desire in her for some sort of ownership and control and it felt like a conscious betrayal of her every principle. Still there was no denying the want, the need aching in her breast and nesting in the corners of her mind.
But she couldn’t let it show. She had to let the evening pass without incident. Dates were supposed to be fun, or at least she’d heard it said so. Wouldn’t hiding what she truly felt be dishonest though, even if just to herself? What would Applejack think of that?
Twilight curled her hooves around her head. Sometimes you could say what you felt. Sometimes you yourself didn’t know exactly and sometimes, with the way everything worked, you felt beyond your ability to stay level and calm. Pricking your hoof on a sharp stone caused you to jerk back without meaning to. When it was warm you felt yourself beginning to sweat. This is how she felt about Snack Mix: unconscious, instinctual, spontaneous reaction. As raw and uncontrolled as a pony could get.
And speaking of sweating, it felt awfully hot in here. She hoped all her nervous pacing and perspiration didn’t ruin her dress before he even bothered to show. He would show, right? Maybe.
Maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe this would be the one time when disappointment led to something not entirely unwelcome. If Snack Mix didn’t show she wouldn’t have to do anything about this situation at all. She could trot out, go home, take off this clingy, scratchy dress and maybe get some decent sleep. The maître d’ would probably be glad to be rid of her common-ness. She wouldn’t have to spend a single bit, although she would have gladly emptied her saddle bags of them to leave right at this moment and not look back.
Why wouldn’t he come though? Any number of reasons, really. Colts were fickle things. He might forget or be too lazy to leave his home or get stuck in the doorway or something. He was well on his way to being hefty enough for the latter to pose a risk. Maybe he’d decide she wasn’t attractive enough and stay home.
Yes, colts were fickle things. Fickle, thoughtless, indolent, gluttonous, superficial, awful, wonderful, gorgeous, sumptuous, magnificent...
Twilight blinked. Somewhere along the line her train of thought had collided with another traveling in the opposite direction. She noticed a well-dressed couple was eyeing her curiously from their table. She looked at herself, suddenly concerned for appearances, and noticed that her pacing was beginning to wear a groove in the grass of the foyer. Oh.
After relocating to a bench, she picked up the pieces of her rhetorical musing. Yes, he might not come after all. He might get stuck. He might get lost. He might get hurt. Maybe something had happened to him. Maybe he wasn’t here yet because he literally, physically couldn’t come despite his longing to do so. Maybe he’d taken a shortcut and was being chased by timber wolves as she sat her! Maybe he’d been captured and cooked by a rouge colony of cannibals, or he’d been turned into stone by a cockatrice to stand forever, alone until he was covered in creepers and he crumbled into dust!
She had to stand up. Suddenly she’d become very dizzy and needed the solid feel of ground under her hooves again to steady herself. She took two long, deep breaths. Maybe he’d decide she wasn’t attractive enough and stay home. For some reason that was easier to stomach then the thought that he was in danger.
Twilight Sparkle’s life hadn’t been a terrible one by any stretch, but it had generally been full of consternation, overt or otherwise. It seemed prudent to imagine that in this case, like so many others before, too good to be true was just that. If he wasn’t dead, he wouldn’t show up, and she could handle that. She wasn’t a filly. She was a big pony. Disillusionment was no stranger and she welcomed the simplicity a setback in this freewheeling and chaotic spur-of-the-moment plan of hers might provide.
It was all too much too quickly. She could just walk away now. Even if he did show up she’d be gone and she wouldn’t have face what she felt any longer…
“Your table is ready, madam.” A waiter, presumably theirs. Hers.
With the stolid determination of a condemned prisoner Twilight followed the colt as he led her to a table off to the side of the others under the boughs of a beautiful palm. Bushes, carefully trimmed and bristling with appetizing flowers, flanked both sides and provided privacy fo a sort. Candlelight from three tall sticks shined onto a bottle resting next to the menu.
“Compliments of the house.” Her waiter smirked ever-so-slightly, “Our head chef is an incurable romantic.”
“Th- thank you!” Twilight managed to say just after he’d walked out of earshot. “But we’re just friends…”
Taking a seat at the table felt like trampling upon hallowed ground. Everything was pristine and clean and crisp, from the cushions to the napkin she didn’t dare unravel from the rosebud shape some dexterous pony had woven it into beside her plate. She hesitated and deliberated a long time before calling forth the menu to read. Doing so felt like a commitment.
Funny. There weren’t any prices mentioned: just the items and how they were prepared. They all looked very good. Her stomach agreed. Loudly. She had deliberately forgone lunch to at least make dinner worthwhile. Also, come to think of it, she’d forgotten breakfast. For the past few days.
“What’s wrong with you, Twilight?” She’d muttered it out loud. As luck would have it, in this little corner of The Meadow Lark none of the other diners could hear, even if they hadn’t been chatting amongst themselves and rattling silverware or clinking glasses together.
Luna’s letter had provided a little bit of clarity. She hadn’t expected ever to receive correspondence from The Princess of the Moon, but in retrospect she was glad to have a third party to consult. Celestia would always be her mentor and guide, but the more perspectives one could tap the clearer a understanding could be brought about on any number of things. Maybe Luna’s perspective differed from Celestia in this purview. No, she thought back to her encounters with the two, it definitely did.
It was good to have another opinion to draw on. But wasn’t love supposed to feel… different? Good? Love wasn’t supposed to feel so mixed up. Love wasn’t supposed to gnaw at your insides. Love wasn’t supposed to feel grubby and irregular. And why? Why the longing? It all seemed misplaced and wrong. She liked his attitude, the way he said things. She liked his sense of humor and shyness.
But most of all, and only honesty could make her admit, she LOVED his size. That couldn’t be normal. Could it?
Did Rainbow Dash like her flying companions on the heavy side? Did Rarity prefer dressing wider customers? Did Applejack show more interest in cider customers with a tighter belt? Was Fluttershy drawn to colts that reminded her of animals preparing to hibernate?
Did Pinkie… Um.
A headache started to brew under Twilight’s brow. Trying to visualize the type of companion Pinkie would be interested in was such an intensely surreal experience. Twilight quickly gave it up.
What about Celestia? According to a tabloid picture released awhile back (subsequently banned from all further publication) she did enjoy her cake. Maybe the type of company she preferred had equal attitudes towards deserts?
And what of Luna? Had her heart been lifted by a pudgy stallion in the past? Questions without answers but they kept her mind from her original question at least. What was wrong with her?
Why did logic bid a fond farewell when her eyes clapped on the slope of such a wide, healthy flank? Why did she want so desperately to cram a huge slice of rich cake into that adorable grin? Or two? Why did she want to lay a hoof on his warm, fuzzy chest, and feel it rise and fall as he breathed and continue to rise as he indulged heedlessly?
Twilight could sense the knowing smirk spreading her lips and could practically feel a gleam stealing into her eyes. On impulse she shook her head hard enough to hurt. But as her vision reeled back into focus she saw that same lopsided, bashful grin again. Only this time it was real.
“Hi.” Snack Mix raised his hoof, thought better of it, and let it fall to his side. First impressions were everything. He might look enticingly like he’d somehow put on weight between their meeting yesterday and this evening but she had to stay on point. Had to. Dazzle him with her wordplay and wit. Some kind of powerful opener he’d remember forever, even if this didn’t work out! Come on Twilight, pull it together!
“Hi.” She said, raising a hoof briefly.
“Can I have a seat?”
Twilight’s left eye twitched. “Of course!”
“Thanks.” The chair groaned as Snack Mix settled his significant burden onto it. The way his abdomen extended, with it’s courageous tuxedo still hugging it with nary a rip, he was still forced to sit several inches away from the lip of the table. Once settled, he wiped his brow. Twilight could see how he was blatantly nervous. Did she look that way? Unconsciously she brushed a hoof over her bangs.
“Sorry I’m late. To be honest I, um.” He clacked his horseshoes together timidly.
“You?” Twilight twirled her hoof.
“I g- go- ” He grimaced and hissed through clenched teeth, “I got hungry.”
“You got hungry? Really?”
“I know. It’s kinda tacky right before a date, but it was a long day and I needed to pick something up since the gallop over here was pretty tiring. It was just a light salad or two.” Twilight nodded, her stare unfocused. She could barely hear him mumble out, “Or four.” Her legs unconsciously clenched.
“I’m still hungry though!” Snack Mix chuckled, patting his gut affectionately. “They handed me this menu on the way in. Everything here certainly seems very expensive! I mean good! It all looks great. Yeah.”
“My menu doesn’t have any prices on it.”
“Really?”
“Nope,” Twilight blushed. “I think they might have given you the menu with the prices so I could choose without worrying about them. It’s a traditional practice among high-class restaurants to give the colts the prices so their, um, lady can choose her heart’s content without guilt. Outdated chivalry. Silly, huh?”
“Huh. Why would that be silly? Sounds all right to me.”
“Well...” Twilight drew a hoof over the ground. “Technically I was going to pay for the food myself. Yours too.”
“Call me old fashioned, but I’ll cover the lot.” Snack Mix chuckled and said, “I just got my bits from work. And besides, I’m seriously starving so I can’t expect you to cover for all that!”
“Oh,” Twilight muttered. “Erm, technically this manual on dating stated the instigator of the date is supposed to pay the bill.”
“What’s the date on that manual?”
“Um…” Twilight tapped her forehead with her hovering spoon in thought. “A few years ago?”
“Well, how about I do it just this once?” He hoisted his bag of bits to the table of a sparkling trail of golden magic. Fairly heavy, it landed with a sizable THUD. Just like the colt. “We don’t always have to do things by the book.”
“Wait, we don’t?” Twilight gaped. Snack Mix must have been worried she was having some kind of attack she looked so shocked and so still for so long.
“Don’t mention it.” He picked up his menu to break the uneasy stillness. His eyes, half shielded by the menu, darted increasingly quickly between the lists and pictures. “See anything you like?”
--
“Ah! I am STUFFED!” Snack Mix chuckled, his front wobbling with each shudder the buttons of his tux stressed to their constraint. “Celestia fetlocks, that was a feast! No mistake about it! Just one more wee bite and I might have just-” He looked up as if noticing Twilight for the first time and his cheeks flushed. She sat in stunned silence, unblinking. “It’s just a figure of speech,” he added shamefaced. “I don’t think I could actually…. You probably think that’s a weird thing for me to even- Never mind. ‘S just a little joke.”
His companion shook her head slowly back and forth.
“So, did you enjoy your own meal?”
“Uh huh…”
“Say, you wouldn’t mind if I ordered dessert?”
“Uh huh…”
Twilight blinked. “I mean…sure.” She murmured, smiling sheepishly. “Dessert sounds nice. Really!”
“You know, you sure look cute when you smile.”
“Thanks…” Her lips moved and sounds leaked out. But her eyes were watching another scene unfold.
--
Magic can do any number of things and work in any number of ways, some more subtle then others. Certainly at the moment she didn’t know an appetite jinx, but one surely had to exist: one strong enough to convince Snack Mix to do what he’d do by nature. Only much more so. There would be a cap on his hunger eventually. When things got crowded he’d want to stop as anyone might. There was a stretch limit on even the most practiced stomach, the point when it started to complain.
By concentrating, by keeping the glow of her horn low so it was nearly invisible even in the flickering light she could focus her own longing into him. Like a knot of desire, deep in his chest. Set the wheel spinning. She grinned in triumph when his eyes widened and his lips moistened.
“Woah! A moment ago I was packed to the gills, but now, now I feel like I could eat a mountain!”
“What a coincidence!” the waiter chirped, stepping into frame. “We happen to have an oversize colossal gigantic gut-buster chocolate cake made to order!” And just like that he wheeled in a groaning trolley with the largest cake she had ever witnessed. Seven layers of chocolate with decadence dripping from every expertly placed line of frosting and lovingly set candy. The top of the cake, adorned with a heavy-set stallion carved from pure rich chocolate, almost brushed the lowest boughs of the palm covering their table. Even Pinkie Pie would probably have turned pale and keeled over from the sight of something so majestic. So perfect. So massive and thick and full of expanding calories.
It was three times the size of Snack Mix, surely impossible for a single pony to handle. But that was about to change.
“That’s quite a dessert,” he gulped. “I just- I can’t possibly fit all that in…” He was already hers. She risked a tiny flare at the tip of her horn for a boost in his need.
“Still,” he panted, “I’m SO hungry!” The waiter seemed pleased as could be to cut out sizable slices, each in turn oozing with more thick chocolate filling that pooled and dripped from the plate. When they came within range of Snack Mix’s eager fork they were devoured in a few fevered moments of need and gluttony, leaving behind only a gooey, crumb spattered mess on the platter. And the table. And around his quivering lips.
His tongue darted out and tried to salvage the stains around his mouth. “I’ve got to have stowed way more then even I take in at a sitting,” he burbled wearily. “Still, I feel like there’s a deep hole in me I just can’t fill up. What’s going on?”
“Have another piece of cake and forget such things,” the waiter prompted. “Oh! To wash it down how about our famous mile-tall milkshakes? All you can drink!”
Slowly, the table became crowded with plates and glasses. Each of the dozen glass towers looked like an immense pitcher of ice cream and whipped topping. Even the cherries looked like small ruby red apples. Every single one was poured down his throat, flavor and volume both surely overwhelming.
In real life it had taken Snack Mix an entire fully stocked, heavy and rich meal to make his belly visibly gain in circumference. It would have taken at least a few days to graduate to another belt. So she had to subconsciously dial down his bloating body just to keep her suspension of disbelief preserved. Even if she wanted him to expand forever like nothing else, savoring it would be truly sweet.
And bloat Snack Mix did, beautifully, downing shakes with admirable, and adorable, speed and abandon. She could hear his escalating meal churning from where she was sitting. He faltered after only four gooey slices down but he was stretching superbly, groaning as he grew. When he did stop long enough for strained belching, he would always return his hoof to his paunch, flinching when he felt how tender and overblown it had become.
“Uggghhh. I feel so fuuuullll… s-so hungry… but so, so oooohhhh!” He tried to double over, only to fail to even up a crease in his taut, stretched gut. Apparently hunger pangs were part of the deal even if his hunger could not be satisfied. Oddly, Twilight didn’t mind this little oversight.
“Oouuoohhh, Celestia’s CROWN!” Finally Mix pulled away and leaned his bulk against the table, forcing a great divot in his swollen middle. A strange expression of relief and pain shot over him.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m either going to be sick, or I’m going to starve!” He looked nervous; stroked his surface with concern. “I…I don’t think I’ve ever been this big before…” He was going to stop!
She couldn’t have it. Her magic drew up a random shake and practically dumped it into his face. He had to either drink or drown, but it wasn’t much of a struggle to choose. By this time he’d primed his body for gorging and it only took that little push to align everything in him properly. He squeezed his eyes shut, gulping the enormous shake to the dregs, at least what hadn’t run all over his face. But he was smiling while he drank now. The cool dense beverage must have felt divine washing against his burning urge to consume.
Another shake upended itself before he changed his mind. Now his reflexes were finely tuned to receive and imbibe. The shake, all of it, vanished into his greedy gullet, leaving only a single trickle of chocolate to run from the corner of his mouth. His own magic unconsciously scraped what little remained in the glass.
Twilight’s desire grew red-hot. She wanted more. She wanted HIM to want more and more! The middleman character of the waiter was moving too slowly. Thanks to dream logic Twilight replaced him at the heaving colt’s glorping side. In a sane part of her mind, she noticed that she was dressed as the maître d’ was. She supposed, with what little rational thought she was still operating on, it only seemed right. She was his server and he was the perfect customer.
That and who better to feed the colt of her dreams then someone professional?
From the surrounding tables her magic snatched up muffins, a myriad of pasteries, stuffed mushrooms, baked potatoes shimmering with fat and cheese. She uncorked bottles of champagne and let them drain into his muzzle, making his midriff fizz violently and balloon.
“Arrrghh!” grunted Snack Mix. “C-coat! Buttons. Belt too tight!” His rump dominated the chair and his front was making throbbing breaks for freedom through the expensive fabric of his coat and pants. That belt was cutting painfully into his enormity. It seemed the compassionate thing to do to lean over and bite it in half. There was an audible growl and slosh as his gut sprung to its fullest once free. The table scooted backwards a foot to make room, pushing some of the loaded plates into precarious positions, and closer to his mouth. The buttons burst from the shock and ricocheted off into the bushes.
Snack Mix sighed in relief. “Holy-BUCK! That was intense!” But it wasn’t over. She summoned the contents of a nearby table overflowing with delights and one by one crammed them dutifully into his muffled mouth.
The only protest that actually got out was the constant rumbling of his distended stomach. Once again, Snack Mix proved the power of his cutie mark by making short work of everything he was forced to take. Every bowl and drink stuffed into his face was decimated. But somewhere he seemed to know this wasn’t right and quietly whimpered between swallows and the keen gurgling that signaled a fresh wave of enlargement.
All bets were off and her fantasy kicked into full throttle. The speed at which she fed to him anything in reach was dizzying and his throat worked and widened with equal velocity. His whimpering turned into guttural moans of bliss. The chair began to bend under what must have been a ton of stallion by this point. That silly tux tore to pieces like a brittle shell that was keeping the glorious fat underneath trapped. Still she kept at it. Harder! Faster! MORE!
His tail section puffed up too wide to contain and his pants split at the seams. The pressure inside his spherical body must have been nigh explosive. Now his taxed digestion, every burble and slosh, that constant wave of heavenly sound was a symphony in her ears.
He was immobile now: a great cushion of quivery lard. She felt like she could do this forever. Maybe he could too? The chair broke with the sound of a thunderclap followed by the louder sound still of his impossible weight falling flat, shattering the floor. A blazing spike of passion and pleasure spread through Twilight’s very core.
--
“You’re really not going to touch your cake?”
Twilight hadn’t closed her eyes. Not once. It wasn’t awakening so much as ‘coming to’ in the most literal sense. The after images of her flight of fancy danced in her imagination, tormenting her and tempting her to come back. Deep down, she knew how close she was to literally blurring fantasy and reality. Quickly glancing at the stars, she determined that it had only been minutes if that since she slipped out of reality and into… whatever it was she had just experienced.
It wasn’t right. It wasn’t natural! This had to be the work of an evil hex! Or- or a curse!
“Well, if you’re not going to eat it…” Snack Mix grinned despite himself. “Maybe you wouldn’t mind if I did?” She quietly shook her head.
Golden light sprouted from his horn, grabbed her plate and tugged it towards him. He really had gained some as the evening wore on; the tux was practically breaking but he’d had the good sense to undo several top buttons himself before his size started popping them free. His devouring of the cake was something to see, wolfing down huge lumps at a time. Twilight’s visions of her appetite spell came back to her with startling abruptness.
Fear trickled into her consciousness. Was she affecting him now? Was just thinking about it going to send him over the edge into that monumentally corpulent behemoth? She wouldn’t force him to become immobile and stuffed into a giant pillow colt.
Not if he didn’t want to be. And even if he did, which he couldn’t, she wouldn’t do something so outlandish! She was a sensible mature pony of learning and level-headedness. Sure she might have had an extensive lapse, but that didn’t mean it meant anything. She didn’t, she really didn’t, really want him to…
She felt a pang in her own chest as Snack Mix finished the cake, leaving his plate spotless. Licked clean, she noted with a twitch. “I guess I joined the clean plate club, hmm?” he winked. “Something mom used to say.” She forced out a feeble laugh. What was wrong with her? Why did she feel so worn-out?
“Huh…” Snack Mix prodded his middle as his fore hoof sprang back again and again. Each push sent a little wave over his soft body. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this big before!”
Twilight shuddered. “Um. You’re feeling all right, right?”
“Oh sure!” Snack Mix beamed. “Just that once I start in I sometimes forget to stop. I bet there’s something you do that makes you feel like that too, right?”
“Organizing.” Twilight said with only a moment’s consideration.
“Oh?” Snack Mix’s attention seemed more focused on the desert menu lying on the table then Twilight.
“Are you… still hungry?” She felt like kicking herself. That MUST have sounded as desperate as she was afraid she was.
“Uh, no.” Snack Mix said quietly. “No more for me thanks. All full up.” Still he levitated the menu and consulted it.
“So why the menu?” She fiddled her hooves against each other, working out her newfound energy.
“Hmm?” He blinked and licked his lips. Twilight recognized the look of somepony prying themself out of an inner reverie. He must have mentally tasted everything on the page by the longing in his expression.
“Why don’t you order something?”
“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly…” As if to assure himself of his own fullness he patted his chest again. He was fairly bloated for a normal colt. But nowhere near satiated, as Twilight and Snack Mix both knew. “Just a little sundae.” He said, tapping the menu. “Yes, that would be fine. Um. Maybe you could even share it with me?”
“That’s kind of you.”
“Thanks.” Snack Mix said, blushing. “Oh, waiter!”
When the sundae arrived, it clearly wasn’t any “regular” little. Twilight wanted to see what the larger sizes were as the bowl resting before him looked more like a trough. It was just natural curiosity.
“Yes!” he mouthed. Aloud he said, “Yeesh, this thing is kind of big!”
“It certainly is,” nodded Twilight. “Do you need any…?”
“Nope…” Snack Mix raised his spoon cautiously. “I’m good. It’s all good…” He looked reluctant to start, but when he did he fell back into his familiar, efficient rhythm of delving and delivery. Unlike her dream there was no immediate weight change, mores the pity, but he looked so harmonious in his work she couldn’t help but feel her own spirits surge as his bowl emptied. She loved to watch him, not just for how big he might become, but watching him be so very very happy. Doing what he was best at in the way only he could.
Twilight could never have been able to tell anypony at what point she ceased to be sitting across from Snack Mix and instead was standing over him, easing another spoon into the sundae and slipping it between his lips and his bulging cheeks. One alone might have managed this monster, but to finish it off it would take timework and precision. She could do precision, although she couldn’t have even dreamed one day to use her experience there to fatten up a colt.
Twilight heard the alien squeal of stretched fabric as his tuxedo began to be urged farther. He really was getting bigger! Her intention was to work the buttons off towards his midriff so the stress could be lessened. Fewer distractions could make this moment sweeter and last yet longer. All she had to do was lean down, reach under the table…
Her hoof felt something warm and soft. It wasn’t silk and it wasn’t buttons. It had a steady incline and mysteriously sank when she gave it a push. And rubbing it in a circle felt delicious: like running her hoof over the downiest pillow she had ever known. Snack Mix let out a sound she could only describe as a moan. Till this moment she might have associated this as the sound of somepony in distress, but she could tell that was not the reason for that noise. For a moment, everything just seemed perfect. When her eyes opened she realized what she was doing. His eyes opened only a few seconds later, and both looked at each other with profound embarrassment.
“I’m so sorry!” she sputtered, withdrawing her hoof from his bare belly. His under shirt had ridden up and his tux had finally split its last buttons.
“I’m so sorry!” Snack Mix said so close on the heels of Sparkle it sounded like an echo. “I really don’t know-”
“-what I was thinking of!” Twilight said, her words harmonizing with his perfectly. They stared into each other’s eyes.
“I think we better go home.” Snack Mix whispered.
“I think you’re right.” Twilight whispered back, nodding.
--
“So, thank you Ms. Sparkle. It’s been really… something!” Snack Mix said as they approached her library’s door. “Say, if I happened to do or said anything that seemed weird I’d like to take this time to-”
“Don’t worry about it.” Twilight said, forcing a grin. “We’ve all done things that seemed weird! No, really, trust me.”
“Uh huh.” He looked down and hastily used his magic to fiddle with some of the few buttons that could still be buttoned, tugging down his shirt almost to the bend before his hanging stomach. No amount of hauling could cover his chest and prominently protruding naval so he gave up on it quickly.
Twilight was suddenly acutely aware that her dress and hooves were spackled with chocolate and cream. She used a spot-remover spell to at least deaden as much of it as she could make out with a quick glance. Her hair though must have looked horrible. A feeling of profound embarrassment welled up inside her.
“Well…” She gestured at the door and it opened. Out of nowhere she found herself almost asking if he wanted to come in, but caught herself before she got beyond a sole movement of her fore hoof.
“I’d better be-” Snack Mix murmured.
“Me too.” said Twilight. “Well, Mr. Mix. It’s really been… thanks.”
“Thank you too. It was fun.”
“It was.”
There they stood in the moonlight for the longest time, letting the candle glow coming from inside cast flickering shadows over their rustled clothes and uncertain faces.
“I guess this is good night.” Snack Mix turned to go.
“Wait.”
He stopped in his tracks but didn’t turn around. Twilight wondered why he didn’t turn around and walk back towards her. Until she remembered that all she’d asked him was to ‘wait’.
“I…” That seemed to work a little bit. He turned around and then after a pause started walking towards her.
“Yes?”
“I…” Her voice was so quiet if there had been a breeze her word might have been lost. Snack Mix moved in, flicking his ear.
“Sorry?” he raised an eyebrow. “I can’t quite hear what you-”
She lunged forward with her muzzle. Her lips met his and to her surprise his full face seemed to surround her and bend ever so slightly inwards. Their snouts squashed together and for a time they remained locked. As her eyes closed, she could see just an instant of his doing the same. When they finally parted her breaths were shallow but rapid. It had been like kissing a cushion that smelled like chocolate.
He didn’t say anything before he turn and left for the last time. He didn’t have to. She had begun the kiss but he had continued it. Maybe it wouldn’t mean anything days from now, but tonight it meant the world.
“Do you have any idea what time it is,” yawned Spike, a pillow clutched in one claw and a candle in the other. Twilight kept her eyes focused on the stars. For some reason she couldn’t fathom this time she couldn’t tell the time by their light. All she saw was a stunning cosmos of glowing splendor that stirred her spirit. And those stars joining to form a robust charger she had seen hundreds of times before but never quite paid mind to now seemed disturbingly familiar.
Tonight, he looked even more handsome then ever.
--
Luna smiled a secret smile in her aerie. Realigning the stars may have been presumptuous of her so soon into her return, but while Celestia slept she felt no reason to disturb her for something as trivial as a little adjustment, so to speak, to a minor constellation.
She had always heard tales long ago that when a destined friend, one who would become truly and uniquely special to them, entered into a pony’s life the stars would confirm it. Maybe there was magic enough to see the stars change themselves, but in this instance she felt no guilt in helping them along.
Playing favorites? No doubt.
But a princess had that privilege at least sometimes, did she not?
Category Story / Fat Furs
Species Horse
Size 120 x 103px
File Size 67 kB
:) Oh, okay! Was worried ye might take it personally :/
But ifn ye are on vacation, live it up mate! There's no rush ere. As the Capn' says, he considers ye generous as ye are skillful so he's more then willin to give ye all the time ye need ^^
Jus he figured he'd post what he had after the third friend asked him when 4 would be out XD
But ifn ye are on vacation, live it up mate! There's no rush ere. As the Capn' says, he considers ye generous as ye are skillful so he's more then willin to give ye all the time ye need ^^
Jus he figured he'd post what he had after the third friend asked him when 4 would be out XD
Still a wonderful story, the mix of typical date fare, mixed with twilight struggling with her developing fetish makes this an absolute delight. The fantasy running through her head reminds me almost of myself on a few occasions. And best if all, it still feels like twilight sparkle, the normal character which is the mark of truly good fan fiction. A wonderful read!
It's just so very fuzzy, this story you've crafted. Your wild imagination scenes feel a lot better than the ones I wrote. And when she actually started feeding him, I could practically feel the tenderness. I love the whole, heh, "love" aspect you've worked in, or at least how you worked it in. They seem so real, so in character, especially Twilight. Keep it up, you're doing amazing!
Comments