A Much Larger Teacher

by Learn for Life

Rating: teen
Tags: Cheerilee, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 12971

Cheerilee tries some of Apple Bloom's new treats, and finds herself enjoying them. Her figure changes as a result of her enjoyment. (specifically a weight-gain story)

One night, as Cheerilee is grading her students' papers, Apple Bloom arrives at her home and shows her a new contraption: a portable oven that holds many different items and keeps them warm at the same time. Cheerilee is selected to sample some of them, and soon, Cheerilee finds herself sampling more than "some" of the treats.

This is written specifically for the group My Not-So-Little Pony. It is meant to appeal to the fat/feederism fetish. This is a warning.

Published 2013-08-18 03:10:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-08-18 03:10:02 UTC

A Much Larger Teacher

“And another paper goes into the A-pile,” Cheerilee said to herself as she laid the report onto a stack of others like it, all mark with an encircled “A+” in red and a “Well Done!” message next to it. So far, most of her students had written simply stellar reports on “Some Aspect of Ponyville” for class, with the occasional B here and there. It warmed her heart to see her students pursuing interests about their hometown, such as the history of the Apple Family or Mayor Mare’s placement as mayor, with as much fervor as they did; even Snails’ report, which had earned him a B, had shown a newfound and interesting side of the Ponyville Retirement Home. Seeing that her students had earned such high grades made her go warm inside.

It was 8:00 in the evening, and she had three papers left to grade: Featherweight’s, Sweetie Belle’s, and Truffle Shuffle’s. Cheerilee rubbed her eyes, trying to grind away the fatigue from them. “Come on, Cheerilee,” she said to herself. “It’s just three more papers. Three more papers, and then you can go on up, and take a nice hour-long bubble bath and listen to some peaceful music.” She picked up Featherweight’s report and read the first sentence:

“Sometimes, when a pony lives their whole lives in the same place, they forget that there are a wide array of vast and beautiful areas lying beyond the houses and hills for adventurous souls to explore.”

She couldn’t keep the grin off of her face. “After all, with how well they’ve done on this assignment, don’t I deserve some reward?” She chuckled to herself and gave the report a quick shake, straightening it out in front of her. “From grassy plains to—“

*gurgurgurgle*

She blinked and looked down at her stomach. It growled again, and she could see it rumbling. She sighed. “Not now! I’m almost done!” She snorted, straightened the paper again, and continued. “From grassy plains to the west, to the dangerous Everfree Forest to the south; and even to the mighty Canterlot Mountain to the north, for ponies not afraid of a little climb or spelunking—“ she giggled at the word. “—Ponyville may be a quiet town, but it is surrounded by no doubt some of the most breathtaking—“

*gurgurgurgurgurgurgurgle*

“Really?” She reached a hoof to her belly and pressed inward, feeling how empty it was. It growled again, louder. “Ugh!” She firmly set the report on the table. “Fine! You win! I’ll go get something to eat!” With another sigh, she stood up and made her way to the kitchen. “This is what I get for having a light lunch, I guess.” She made her way to her refrigerator and opened it up, seeing what assorted vegetables she had in stock. “Hmm…” She finally settled on a bundle of celery. “I suppose with some peanut butter, you can make a nice dinner, and then I can go back to finishing my grading, AND THEN!” She held the celery in the air dramatically. “My hour-long bubble bath.”

She didn’t make it to the cabinet that held the peanut butter before she caught a scent in the air. It was sweet, and warm, and pleasantly wafting through her nostrils. She stopped, the celery in her mouth, trying to figure out what the scent was. Her stomach growled in anger, wondering what would taunt it like this.

“Perhaps the Cakes baked a new cake, and they’re wafting out the aroma.” Cheerilee set down the celery. “I could go for a slice of cake right about now.” She bit her bottom lip, and looked out the window at Sugar Cube Corner, with the lights still on in their kitchen.

*gurgurgurgle*

“Well…” she took the celery and put it back in the fridge. “I suppose I can splurge just this once.”

There was a knock at the door.

“Who could that be?” She perked up. “Maybe they brought some cake over for me!” She clapped her hooves together and cantered to her door. The aroma became stronger, and she knew she could smell cinnamon. “Oooh!”

She flung the door open, but didn’t see the Cakes, or even Pinkie Pie. Instead, she found Apple Bloom standing on her doorstep.

“Oh,” Cheerilee said, the excitement leaving her. She cleared her throat. “Good evening, Apple Bloom. What brings you here so late at night?” She sniffed the air; the aroma was stronger than ever. “And what is that delightful smell?”

Apple Bloom smiled. “That’d be something that I made… or, more specifically, somethings.”

Cheerilee raised her brow, and looked around for whatever it was. When she finally saw the unusual thing, she raised a brow.

Standing next to Apple Bloom, smoking with steam, was a box on wheels, a box as tall as two regular ponies standing on top of each other that looked like it would hold tools. It was red, with many different drawers, some small, some large, that equally emitted steam and the warm aroma. There was a glow coming from the bottom of it, and it sizzled. There was also a bubbling noise that came from the top of it, and a golden glow came from the top. Sitting on a clasp was a red lunchbox.

Cheerilee took a whiff of it, and her nose was bombarded with the fragrances of cinnamon, caramel, bread, and—the strongest of all—apples. She couldn’t help but circle the box. “Oh my, Apple Bloom.” She reached a hoof out, and found her fur warming up.

*GURGURGURGURLE*

She withdrew her hoof and blushed. However, Apple Bloom smiled even wider.

“I reckon you’re pretty hungry, Miss Cheerilee?”

The mare nodded. “Yes, I had a petunia sandwich for lunch, and that was pretty much it. Tell me, Apple Bloom,” she continued, craning her head to see something bubbling at the top of the box. “What is this?”

To her surprise, she found Apple Bloom patting her stomach. “Apples, of course!” She patted the box with a hoof. “Well, it’s somethin’ I’ve been workin’ on for a while. You see, I’ve been practicin’ my cookin’ for a while, and I think I’ve gotten pretty good at making treats out of apples. Of course, whenever I tried to show anypony, what I had—fritters, pies, even caramel apples—wouldn’t be as warm as I would hope. I wanted to be able to get warm food out to ponies, so I made this!”

Cheerilee’s stomach growled again. “But why don’t you just carry things in a box?”

Apple Bloom chuckled. “I, um, sorta make a lot.” She shook her head. “Anyway, this is basically a giant oven where I can store all the treats I want, and take them to ponies wherever I go.” She pointed to the bottom of the box. “Ya see, this is where I make the fire that heats everythin’ up. And all of these drawers hold all of the food!” She grabbed some oven mitts and placed it on her hooves. Then she pulled out one of the drawers, sending a wave of heat and cinnamon to the two ponies. And then she reached in.

Cheerilee watched as she pulled out an apple fritter, showing it to her as if seeking her approval. Cheerilee ogled at it; the apples and sauce inside were bubbling, and the cinnamon on the bread was glittering in the heat of the makeshift oven. Her stomach almost lurched forward, growling madly for its prey. Steam rose from it, floating upwards and then disappearing. It took her a great deal of restraint not to lunge forward and take it from the filly.

“You might wanna let it cool down before you try it,” Apple Bloom said, closing the drawer with a free hoof. “It’s my own recipe, just a bit different from the usual way of makin’ it.”

Cheerilee shook her head, and wiped the bit of drool accumulating at the corner of her mouth. It was then, as she heard the word “try,” that she remembered her earlier question. “Did you come here to have me sample some of your treats?”

Apple Bloom nodded enthusiastically. “Of course! You are the greatest teacher ever, and it’d be wrong for me to not let you taste the first sample of it.”

“So I’d be the first to try it?” Cheerilee looked at the oven, and then at the fritter, and back at Apple Bloom. “I’d be delighted to try it! Would you like to come inside with your whatchamacallit?”

The filly nodded, and soon, with careful maneuvering, they managed to get the contraption inside the house. Cheerilee closed the door behind them.

“Now then,” Cheerilee started before seeing her desk. “Oh, that’s right, I need to finish grading your reports!” She trotted over to her desk. “Just set that fritter down on the table and I’ll get it in a sec. By the way, you did an excellent job on your paper about the Apple Family history. It was very interesting and thorough!”

Apple Bloom blushed. “Aw, shucks, Miss Cheerilee, thanks.” With nothing to do while she was there, the filly took a seat on Cheerilee’s pink couch, which faced a fireplace that was lit.

“Da-da-da-da-da—some of the most breathtaking views and places in all of Equestria.” Cheerilee nodded her head. “Very nice start, Featherweight!” She continued reading about the various places Featherweight decided to write about, from the Everfree Forest to even the Canterlot Mountain; it was surprising how much detail he had fit into his report, and the end of it left her with the sudden urge to schedule a hiking trip for her students.

“Beautifully written, such attention to detail,” she wrote next to an “A+” in her red pen. “That takes care of his, and now all that’s left is—“

*GURGURGURGLE*

She sat upright. “Oh, my, I forgot about that!” She looked at the couch, and found Apple Bloom lying down, asleep. With a sigh, she nudged her. There was no response. She nudged again. Nothing.

Her stomach growled again, more persistently, and so Cheerilee looked at her kitchen table, where the fritter rested on a small plate, still steaming. The oven next to it steamed lightly, the sizzling light and the bubbling subsided. She looked at her clock: 8:27.

“Oh dear,” she said, walking over to the table. “I didn’t realize that it was so late. I’ll just try this out and then I’ll take her home.”

By that point, she had reached the table and the fritter. She took a moment to admire it sitting there. The apple glaze covered the whole top of it, and bubbling filling made its way out from the inside. The cinnamon shone in the light, and the steam rose up to her face. She took a whiff, and immediately began to salivate.

Wasting no more time, she picked it up with her teeth and clamped down on one side, holding the other with her hoof. She chewed for a while, savoring the flavor in her mouth. The sweet apples crunched in her mouth, while the bread and the glaze mixed in with it to create a sweet, tart experience. The cinnamon added some spice to it, which Cheerilee also enjoyed.

In fact, the only thing that was different from any of Sweet Apple Acres’ fritters was the large amount of glaze on this particular fritter, but Cheerilee had to admit that the glaze was exquisite in her mouth. She moaned as the food churned in her mouth, and then she swallowed. Once it hit her stomach, the growling stopped for a moment, happy that it finally had sustenance. Cheerilee licked around, savoring the taste, when she felt a warm sensation in her body. At first, it was a warmth radiating from her stomach, one that made her feel comfortable. And then it turned into a light tingling sensation that spread throughout her body, from the tip of her muzzle to the dock of her tail, and down to her hooves. A large smile formed on her face as the tingling subsided in a warm sensation throughout.

Cheerilee chuckled. “My stars. That was absolutely wonderful!” She focused on the other half of the fritter, and stuffed it in her mouth, swallowing much quicker than the first bite. The pleasant feelings returned, and she sighed as the warmth washed over her. “Apple Bloom, I don’t know what you’ve done to these fritters, but they are magnificent.”

She looked back at the couch to find the filly still sleeping. Then, she turned her attention to the oven.

“I wonder if she’ll mind me taking another fritter.”

Trying on the mitts Apple Bloom had, and discovering they were too small for her hooves, grabbed a pair of her own. She turned the oven until she was on the side with the drawer Apple Bloom had taken the fritter from first, and opened it. She gasped. Sitting inside, stacked up like bars of gold, were about thirty separate fritters, each one covered in glaze, each one slightly leaking of filling. They glistened, waiting for somepony to claim them as a treasure.

And Cheerilee did just that. She snagged one fritter off of the top and set it down on the table. She realized something, looking at the fritter now taking its buddy’s place on the plate: it looked lonely. So she grabbed another fritter, and then another, and then another.

“Whoa, Cheerilee,” she said, stopping herself from taking a sixth. “I can’t take all of these. I have to watch my figure, after all.” She chuckled to herself and walked over to the table, leaving the drawer open. The five fritters sitting on the plate were arranged upright like sticks for a campfire, and the steam rising from them wafted to Cheerilee’s face.

Without waiting, she took one and popped it into her mouth. The glaze was still heavy and sweet, the apples chewy and tart, the filling gooey, the bread chewy, the cinnamon slightly spicy. She swallowed, and the warm feeling radiated into tingling again, before it settled into a warmth all over her body. She did the same thing with the second fritter, and the third, and the fourth.

On the last one, she began to feel full, and decided that she needed something to drink. She was about to walk over to her refrigerator for a glass of milk until she saw something near the top of the oven-contraption: a nozzle with a lever on top, reminiscent of one used to serve alcoholic drinks. Curiosity got the better of her, and she lightly pressed on the lever. A golden liquid dribbled out, landing on the floor in front of her. She did the same thing, only this time sticking her tongue out to get a taste. The liquid was sweet, and warm. It was…

“Cider!” Cheerilee gasped and looked over at Apple Bloom. “She made cider?”

After a few moments of thinking about how Apple Bloom made cider, she rushed into her kitchen, grabbed a tankard, and raced back to the contraption. With the tankard under the nozzle, she pressed the tap down.

“Oooh, this is going to be good,” she said gleefully as she watched the golden liquid pouring into the tankard. When the tankard was full, and a healthy layer of foam was at the top, she stopped. There was no admiring how it looked or smelled this time. She guzzled it down in one go, feeling the piping-but-not-scalding hot cider go into her stomach. She became fuller by the second, but she also became a bit intoxicated.

Cheerilee giggled. “Did I need that!” She swung her tankard around carelessly, and set it down with a thud. The warm feeling stayed in her stomach, not producing a tingling sensation, but this warmth lasted for a few minutes. She rubbed her belly, which was almost packed to the brim with fritters and cider.

Her attention turned to the last fritter on the table. “Well,” she said, picking it up. “Might as well not let this go to waste.” It went into her mouth, and like the others, it produced a warmth, a tingling, and then a resonating warmth. “There!” She put a hoof on her stomach and patted it, feeling how full it was. “Now I can take Apple Bloom home.”

She closed her eyes and began walking to her desk, humming a tune to herself. “Hum-hur-hrm, hum-huh-huh-hrm, huh-huh-huh—HUH—hrm—“

When she opened her eyes again, she found herself at her kitchen table, which had four fritters on it. Looking down, she saw she had her oven mitts on again.

“Oh my,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t even recall taking these out!” She looked back at the oven, whose drawers were all closed. She looked back down at the fritters, with their steam hitting her face. “Sorry, little ones, but Apple Bloom still plans on giving these away to other ponies, so I’ll just put you back.”

Her stomach, full of warm food and a tankard of cider, growled. Cheerilee blinked and placed a hoof over it. It growled again, but not with anything unpleasant. Instead, it was a growl of hunger. She had no idea why it was growling like this, but the scent of the fritters forced her to eye them.

“Well,” she said at first apprehensively, and then with a grin. “I suppose one more wouldn’t hurt.”

She picked one of them up and popped it whole into her mouth. It went down slightly cooler than the others, but the warm feeling returned, and soon she found herself eating the other three in quick succession. Her gut had become slightly bloated, her stomach packed with fritters, and the tingling sensation crept along her body, this time staying there. It was a pleasant feeling for her, but her stomach growled for more.

“Alright,” she said to it, her resistance lost to the tasty confections. “Let’s see how many fritters it will take to satisfy you.”

She took the rest of the fritters out of the drawer and dumped them onto the table. They spread out in front of her, twenty in total. With a deep breath, Cheerilee began to pop fritter after fritter into her mouth, still enjoying the crunchy, chewy, gooey treats.

As each one disappeared into her stomach, the tingling sensation began to manifest in her physique. Her stomach, bloated and taut, continued to distend outward, not once making her feel uncomfortable. Her barrel was beginning to thicken and shake whenever she reached down for another. Her forelegs began to round out, while her flank plumped up. Her rump began to creep outward, both to the sides and to the back.

By her twentieth fritter that night, she widened her hindlegs to make room for her slowly encroaching stomach. Her haunches began to rub against her stomach, which she didn’t mind, and her cheeks were beginning to round out. Still, she didn’t stop, as fritter after fritter kept entering her stomach, bloating it further.

Finally, every fritter was inside of her, and she could finally stop eating. Almost without thinking, though, she filled up her tankard a second time with cider, and quaffed it down, washing the lingering stickiness and apple bits from her mouth. Her stomach churned, and slowly bloated a bit more. Once that was done, she set the tankard down and let out a belch.

Her breathing was heavy as her body was overtaken with a massive tingling sensation. A bead of sweat began to form on her forehead as she felt her body being taken over by a warm pressure. She closed her eyes and allowed the sensation to continue for a minute, her head beginning to spin from the cider. When she opened her eyes, she looked down at herself and gasped.

Her stomach was round and quivering, pressing against her haunches. Her flank was definitely rounder, and her rump was jutting outward a good inch more than this morning. She looked down, and found her barrel slightly curving out more, and her forelegs quivered when she moved then.

“Oh my stars,” she whispered, reaching a hoof up to her cheek, only to find that they, too, had grown outward. “I-I must’ve pigged out. Look at me!”

She began to pace, but then the final effect of the glaze kicked in. The glaze, mixed with the cider, began to make her feel tired; her eyelids and neck began to droop. Her breathing became deeper, and her head continued to spin lightly. Slowly, she made her way to the couch and laid herself down. The cushions creaked slightly, and Apple Bloom’s eyes fluttered.

“Hmm?” She slowly turned her head to her teacher. “What?”

Cheerilee’s body was sluggish, but her mind was beginning to become frantic. She had devoured all of the fritters in the drawer, and now Apple Bloom wouldn’t have any more to sell. What to do, what to do! She looked down at the filly again, and took a deep breath.

“A-Apple Bloom?”

The filly’s eyes fluttered again, and she turned her head. “Hmm?”

“I, uh, kinda, sorta, ate all of your apple fritters.”

There was silence between the two. And then,

“Did you like them?”

Cheerilee blinked at the question, and then nodded. “They were really really good! I just couldn’t stop, as you can probably see.” She punctuated this with a chuckle and a pat on her gut.

What she found, though, wasn’t a drum-tight stomach, but rather something much softer. She looked at it, and found her hoof sinking into it. Whether because of the amount of food putting her to sleep, the cider making her head spin, or some other reason entirely, the sensation wasn’t unpleasant. She sunk her hoof in further, feeling it give. She rubbed it for a moment, and then grabbed it with both hooves. It shifted in her hooves, and she began to smile. The plush feeling, and the sloshing that happened inside of her, made her grin.

“I can always make more,” the filly said groggily. “Just—“ She yawned. “Just remember to fill out the survey.”

Cheerilee blinked. “Survey? What survey?”

Wordlessly, without opening her eyes, she reached into her mane and pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil. She set it on the table and began to shift herself on the couch.

Cheerilee picked it up and looked at it. It was a chart with three columns, one depicting a picture of a food item, one column a list of what the treat was—fritters, cobbler, applesauce, caramel apples, and so on—and one column blank for comments. “Well,” she said to herself. “I suppose I can at least write about my experience about the fritters.” She picked up the pencil in her mouth and began to write. “Apples were crunchy and delicious. Bread was—“

Before she could finish, though, she felt something on her stomach. Surprised that it wasn’t one of her hooves, she looked down, and almost dropped the pencil with a gasp. Apple Bloom had nestled up next to her belly, her head resting on the top of it, her side curled on its side. She had no idea why, as the fantasy hadn’t crossed her mind before, but seeing her nestled up against her bulging belly made her smile. She lowered her head and nuzzled the filly, and continued with the comments. “—chewy and enjoyable. Plenty of glaze and cinnamon. A+.” She set the paper down and her own eyes began to close; the excess of food and cider was beginning to get to her.

Suddenly, her belly growled again. She looked down at it, rumbling, wanting more. Instead of logically thinking she had had enough, both due to her drunken state and her will conquered by the oncoming food coma, she rose from her position, allowing Apple Bloom’s head to rest on the cushion.

“Looks like it’s time to feed you again,” she said with a bounce and a jiggle in her step. She trotted over to the still-steaming oven, her forelegs and flank jiggling with each step, her stomach slightly bobbing all the while, everything slightly rubbing together. The drawer that held the fritters was still open. With an experimental bump with her flank, it closed, and Cheerilee proceeded to open the drawer below and the drawer above it.

The top drawer was filled from bottom to top with golden apple chips, each one glistening with cinnamon. They lightly sizzled, sending a wave of heat that warmed Cheerilee’s face. Sitting in the bottom shelf on this side was a vat of dark, bubbling caramel, and twenty popsicle sticks sitting erect in it. Cheerilee knew immediately that this drawer was meant for caramel apples; what kind she didn’t know, but the scent of caramel hitting nostrils made her moan in anticipation.

“Apple chips and caramel apples,” Cheerilee said to herself. “This should be the light foods side.” She scooped up two hooffuls of food and set them on a plate, and then took two caramel apples from the vat, licked the piping-hot dripping caramel off, and set them on the plate as well, watching as some of the caramel crept onto the plate before settling.

“Now, then,” she said, finally taking a seat at the table. “Let’s eat!”

And she dug in. The first few chips to enter her mouth sounded off with a satisfying crunch, not too thin and not too thick, with the cinnamon giving it that extra flavor. She swallowed, and dug in for more. They didn’t put as much pressure on her stomach as the fritters did, only slightly pushing outward while joining the rest of the food. The caramel apples were the same way on her stomach, but the caramel was sweet and sticky, and the apples were warm and delicious. Soon, she found herself going for another three hooffuls of chips and three more apples, and, pouring herself a third tankard of cider, went at it again.

These treats were less impactful on her figure than the fritters, but the changes were still noticeable. Her stomach rounded out again, yet didn’t bulge out as much. Her thighs plumped up, and her rump was beginning to sag from the weight on it. Her forelegs and barrel also plumped up, and her cheeks soon began to round out. Her back was also losing its muscular feel, taking on a slight soft feeling to it.

Soon, all the chips and caramel apples were devoured. Cheerilee patted her stomach, which rumbled with contentment. They were two more things that were cooked to perfection. A belch made its way out of her, and she covered her mouth in reflex. Her stomach resonated with warmth, which spread throughout her body. She looked at the clock: it was 8:45.

“Oh my stars!” She looked at Apple Bloom, who was still sleeping. “I need to take her home!”

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Cheerilee groaned and walked to the door. A bit of sweat formed on her brow as she reached it, and she opened it the door to find Applejack.

“Howdy, Miss Cheerilee,” the farm pony greeted. “Say, have ya’ seen Apple Bloom around? It’s getting’ mighty late, and she needs to be home fer dinner.”

What a lucky break! Cheerilee thought to herself. Now I don’t have to walk her home, and I can get to grading those last two papers! “Why, yes, she just so happens to be inside my house.” She saw Applejack’s brow rise. “She wanted to show me something, and then just fell asleep on my couch. I’m sorry for not bringing her back home sooner; I must’ve lost track of time.”

Applejack waved a hoof. “Don’t worry ‘bout that none. As long as she’s safe, it’s alright with me.” She arched her back. “Well, I’ll just take her off yer hooves.”

“Yes, of course. Just one moment.” Cheerilee turned and walked over to the couch. While doing that, she took notice of changes in her body. Her stomach was doing less bobbing and more swaying, while her flank jiggled, and her rump began to bounce from side to side. Her barrel also showed a light sway in movement. She didn’t know how to think about these things; at the moment, her current state wasn’t uncomfortable by any means.

Gently, she picked Apple Bloom up and placed her on her back. She walked back quicker, and the two mares traded her.

“Sorry again for holding her here,” Cheerilee began to say before being cut off by Applejack.

“Don’t ya’ worry none, Miss Cheerilee. She was probably eager to see how she did on that report, right?”

Cheerilee’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, she wanted to show me something.”

Applejack nodded. “Well, if that’s it, then I’ll just take this li’l filly home.” As she finished, Apple Bloom wrapped her forelegs around her big sister and buried her face in her mane. “See ya’ tomorrow, Cheerilee!”

“See you tomorrow!” She watched for a moment as Applejack walked away, and then closed the door. “That was easier than I thought. Now to get to grading those last two papers.”

She began to walk to her desk, but then her stomach growled. She froze in place, and her head turned to the dining room; sitting there, forgotten by Apple Bloom, was the tall oven, still steaming with treats and cider.

“Oh, no, Cheerilee” she said out loud. “You’ve had enough food for tonight. You just march yourself on to your desk and finish grading!” Her stomach growled in protest, but she stayed steadfast and marched to her grading desk. With a harrumph, she placed her rump in her chair… and noted how much softer it felt. She looked down and saw her enlarged backside providing a nice cushion for her.

“Well…” She shifted in her seat, watching her rump roll. “At least that’s one good thing that’s come of this.” Her stomach threatened to render her incapable of scooting herself forward to reach her chair, but fortunately for her, it was only blocked slightly. “Now then, Truffle Shuffle’s report.” She brought it up to her face and, ignoring the grumbling from her stomach and the still-mesmerizing scent of the food, read the title on the page:

“Ponyville Cuisine”

By Truffle Shuffle

Cheerilee’s eyes widened, and her stomach growled louder. “Oh my stars, please tell me this isn’t all about food!” Of course, looking at the title, she knew that it was going to be all about food. She didn’t blame him for putting her through this torture; after all, fine dining was his special talent.

“Ponyville is mostly a town with simple meals, but that doesn’t mean that it knows how to make extravagant feasts every now and again. For example, Sugar Cube Corner, Ponyville’s bakery, makes some of the biggest and most delicious cakes in all of Equestria, and I’ve eaten a lot of cake around Equestria. They have a Choco-Mountain fudge cake—“

Her stomach growled.

“A white-chocolate Snowy Valley that’s so big, a pony can stand in it—“

Her stomach bounced in place.

“And their piece de resistance, the Marzipan Mascarpone Meringue Madness.”

Cheerilee squirmed in her seat as her stomach growled even louder, impossibly begging for more food. It didn’t help that there were pictures of each cake next to their names.

“They also have—“

“Okay!” She shouted, flipping the page over. “I think I know enough about Sugar Cube Corner, hee hee hee!” She took in a deep breath, slapped her stomach to stop its growling, and continued reading. The sections on the Ponyville Café and Bon Bon’s confectionary were much less torturous than the alluring descriptions of Sugar Cube Corner, which Cheerilee was thankful for. There was one more body paragraph for her to look at, and then the conclusion, and then the report would be over. “It’s a good essay so far,” she said to combat her frustration. “Ahem.”

“The best food in Ponyville, though, can be found at Sweet Apple Acres.”

Cheerilee froze. Her eyes were locked onto that sentence, while her nose was locked onto the aroma of Sweet Apple Acres’ food just a few steps away. Her stomach wouldn’t be quiet, and her head began to spin, from the cider and from the scent. With a shaky hoof, she read on.

“They are known for their apple pies, their apple fritters, and their apple cider, but they also have a wide array of other apple-related foods. They have apple brioche, apple turnovers, apple dumplings, apple strudel, apple tarts, apple cobblers, and caramel apples, to name a few.” With each treat named, Cheerilee’s stomach pulsated, and she salivated. “They also host great big meals, definitely with apples, bit sometimes with other vegetables and fruits. Their meals usually leave me very full and feeling great and tired afterwards.”

Cheerilee didn’t read on to the conclusion. She could feel the Apple Family food churning within her, forcing her eyes to lid. She was surprised when a moan escaped her lips. It did make her feel incredible, even with the newly added fat, and tired. What it did make her feel, though, was full. Her stomach still growled for nourishment, and it was not full. Not yet.

It was too perfect. Her enlarged rump had an unrivaled bounce to it, while her stomach was a nice pillow; her body felt great from the earlier meal. She had a good reason for continuing to eat as well: Apple Bloom wanted her opinion on her food. There was nopony around to tell her she couldn’t eat some more, and, Cheerilee told herself, it wouldn’t exactly be the end of the world.

Her stomach growled again, and the aroma of the food caught her attention again. Cheerilee turned her attention to the oven, and noted that the fire under it was almost gone. That would not do. With a grin, she went outside and retrieved some twigs from the surrounding area. Going back inside, she threw those twigs into the fire, rekindling the heat for the oven. She retrieved the survey and, setting Truffle Shuffle’s report to the side, began opening the three drawers on the side directly counterclockwise the first side.

Inside, she found three different delicacies for her to consume. The first shelf held a tray of apple strudel, not as hot as the other treats, but still giving off a healthy amount of steam. The middle shelf was filled with soft apple brioche. The final tray at the bottom was filled to the top with apple fries, each one a golden brown, each one covered in cinnamon, each one ready for her to devour. All three of them beckoned to her, and she obliged.

With three courses laid out in front of her at the kitchen table, and with two tankards of cider, and with her stomach growling for more nourishment, she dug right in. The strudels crunched in her mouth, and the gooey apple filling, crunchy-chewy apples, and plenty of that irresistible glaze was perfect. The brioche melted in her mouth, causing her to giggle and force many into her maw, hosting a popping party inside her bulging cheeks. The brioches’ chewiness and the strudels’ semi-chewiness were balanced out with the crunchiness of the fries, and she threw many into her mouth. She washed all of the cinnamon and glaze down by quaffing the cider.

All the while, the warm tingling feeling returned along her body, especially in her stomach and her rump. Her stomach shook with each gulp, bloating and expanding outwards, beginning to squish into the table. Her barrel also began to creep outward more, losing its taut feel and being replaced with a soft layer that shook whenever she turned her head for more food. Her cheeks continued to become bulgier, and her forelegs were having a bit of difficulty lifting up, since their newly thickened form would rub and collide with the fat of her barrel. Her flanks began to hang off of the chair and bite into the hoofrests, while her rump’s new growth forced her into the table, further squishing her belly.

Halfway through her meal, she had to push her chair back to allow her stomach more room to grow. She continued to feed herself, leaning forward and throwing her forelegs over the table, and using this to scrape the remaining food into her mouth. Crunchiness mixed with chewiness, as strudel, brioche and fries mixed together to go down her gullet. Her stomach ballooned outward, crawling on her thighs and soon dimpling against the table again. Her flanks not only poked through the hole in the sides and hung off of the edge of the chair but began to sag, while her rump not only pushed her up higher, but also pushed back on and through the spokes of the chair, cutting into her supple flesh.

At last, all of the food on the table was gone. Cheerilee emitted a heavy breath and lifted herself from the chair. The spokes held onto her rump, so she had to shake it off. Her head spun from the cider, and she giggled from that and the warmth that emanated from within her body. She moved her hoof to rub her belly, and looked around to inspect her new form. Her stomach hung to her knees, pressing back on her much larger thighs. Her flanks hung out moreso than her bulging belly, and though she couldn’t see it, she could feel her rump hanging and slightly sagging outward. Her forelegs were much thicker, while her barrel looked was as thick as her flanks before she had begun.

With a chuckle that shook her chipmunk cheeks, she patted her body. “Truffle Shuffle was right. Sweet Apple Acres does know how to make excellent food.” She giggled and began to waddle to her desk, feeling her thighs rub together, especially with her hindlegs. Once there, she sat down, this time scooting in as much as possible until her stomach went from lovingly squished to painfully squished. Her weight made her chair creak, and Cheerilee enjoyed eliciting a few more by moving her body around. “Alright,” she said, taking her pen and writing on Truffle Shuffle’s paper, “Nice essay. Completely agree; Sweet Apple Acres’ food is irresistible! A+.” She set the paper aside, leaned back, and allowed herself a moment to breathe.

“Wonderful papers and a nice feast of treats? How can this night get any better?” She rubbed her belly, picking it up and feeling it shift in her hooves. She hugged it, and felt its warmth. It gurgled with joy, but, strangely enough, not with satisfaction. “Are you still hungry?” With her clouded spinning head, she wouldn’t question it. “Alright, just hang on while I fill out this survey and finish Sweetie Belle’s report.” She picked it up and straightened it out. “Maybe if she wrote about me, it would be the best day ever!” She chuckled at herself and read the title.

“Miss Cheerilee, The Bestest Teacher Ever”

By Sweetie Belle ♥

She didn’t blink for a few moments; then, she tapped her chin in bemusement. “Looks like somepony is looking for an easy-A. Still,” she continued, a grin appearing, “it’s nice that somepony wrote something about me.” She straightened the report and began to read:

“Miss Cheerilee is a pony who lives in Ponyville that works as a teacher and loves to teach.”

Well, the first sentence is a bit wordy… but I do love to teach.

“She goes to school from Monday to Friday and teaches us new things, like math and history and science. She got her cutie mark in teaching, and her cutie mark represents how she wants to help fillies and colts grow and blossom into good mares and stallions. She had a lot of fun teaching, even when she’s a bit grumpy from not getting enough sleep.”

Am I really grumpy? Cheerilee scratched her nape and ignored her growling stomach. She moved on to the second paragraph.

“When she’s not teaching in the classroom, Miss Cheerilee can usually be seen helping ponies around Ponyville. She also likes dressing up in disco clothing and likes to wear stunning hats.”

Cheerilee chuckled. “Yes, I do.”

“She also enjoys dancing, especially in her living room.”

Wha-how does she know that?

“She likes putting on a groovy beat and shaking her rump like crazy!”

Cheerilee blushed. Well, it’s true. I should close my windows more often.

“She also enjoys to spend quiet moments in the park, getting drinks at Berry Punch’s Punch Trough—“

Oh my stars, do ponies actually know about that?

“—and helping ponies when they’re hurt or crying. Like one time, I fell while playing on the Town Square fountain, and I cried until Miss Cheerilee trotted over to me and gave me a big hug. She told me it would be okay, and she walked me to the hospital where I got a Band-Aid with smiles on it. I won’t forget that hug.”

Cheerilee suppressed a tear. “It’s always nice when ponies remember something nice I do for them.”

“She was so warm, tender and cuddly, like a big teddy bear.”

As Cheerilee finished this sentence, she paused. Two words stuck out to her here: cuddly and big. Her thoughts immediately went to a few minutes ago, where Apple Bloom had snuggled into her soft stomach, cuddling with it while she fell to sleep. And Cheerilee couldn’t deny that at the moment, she was big… well, big as compared to her from this morning. She found herself rubbing her stomach, reaching forward and lifting it up, feeling its heft in her grasp. Slowly, she reached down and nuzzled into it. Sweetie Belle was right: she was cuddly. She dropped her stomach down and watched it bounce in place. She turned her attention back to the report and read the last sentence in that paragraph.

“Miss Cheerilee is a kind, gentle pony who likes helping people, except when she’s dancing, when she’s wild and crazy.”

Cheerilee guffawed. She knew, even with the faulty sentence structure, Sweetie Belle hadn’t meant that she liked to help other ponies except when she was dancing; indeed, even she agree that she wasn’t as gentle and calm as usual when she had a catchy tune playing. Speaking of which…

She set the paper down on the table and walked over to her gramophone. She rummaged through a box containing vinyl discs, and, finding the one she wanted, placed it in. She set the needle down and trotted back over to her desk.

The music began to play. It began with a melodic keyboard introduction, one that made her think of science-fiction movies she was seeing in theaters. Then the bass drum kicked in, and a low thrum-thrum-thrum of a bass guitar being rhythmically played. Cheerilee began tapping her hoof, and then the intro led into the quick keyboard-and-drum-dominated chorus, and began to dance in place. There was no gentleness about it; it was wild and crazy, just like her high school days, just like Sweetie Belle described in her paper. Getting even crazier—perhaps due to the cider still spinning around in her head—she began to shake her rump. With the new weight on it, she admired how it swayed from side to side, threatening to pull her down onto the ground. She tried a slow shake, and felt the inside of her thighs rubbing together as each cheek alternated jutting backwards and jiggling madly. She did the same thing with her stomach, which swayed beautifully.

“Oh my!” she cried out at the feeling. “This is amazing! Sweetie Belle was right. I can shake my rump, perhaps like no other mare in Ponyville!”

“I do feel quite good,” she said, “especially from that dance. I wonder how it would feel if, perhaps I…”

Her stomach growled again, sharing her inclination. Instead of ignoring the surreal cravings, she approached the oven, feeling her figure sway as she walked. The rest of the treats inside would be very hot, as the fire had time to keep them warm. She sighed, and then with excitement, she opened the other six drawers and took everything out.

Now, sitting on her table were a pot of apple dumplings, a cake pan of apple turnovers, a heaping helping of apple scones, a large bowl of cobbler, six whole apple pies, and a bowl of thick apple sauce. They were all spread out on the table like a banquet prepared for a family, and Cheerilee had it all to herself. She took out the caramel from the caramel apples, ready to finish that off as well. Another two tankards of cider waited by her.

“I deserve this,” she said as she took a seat, hearing it creak under her weight. “Great students, great food, great body.” She slapped her stomach, which was sandwiched comfortably between the chair and the table. She drunk her whole mug of cider in one go, and refilled it. “I definitely deserve this.”

And thus she began the final stage of finishing off Apple Bloom’s food. She began with the scones. They were light and fluffy in her mouth, and they were bathed in that irresistible glaze. She daintily chewed these treats one by one as they entered her mouth. The other food waited for her patiently, watching as she chewed scone after delicious scone.

Her body’s transformation picked up where it left off, the warm tingling feelings returning to her whole body. It began in her belly, which began to bloat further, crawling along her hindlegs, enough to begin the hang over them, and pushing against the table. For the first time, Cheerilee took notice of the changing process. This feels incredible! I can feel the food pushing me outward, and I can feel the fat settling on my body! Her barrel rounded out even more, and her double chin sagged further. My neck must be so squishy, the foals will have trouble wrapping their legs around it! Her flanks hung further off of the table, and her rump pushed her higher up, its force threatening to destroy the back of the chair. It’s getting very shapely. I can feel a great deal of energy going back there, and I can feel the cushion forming and my flanks stretching. I hope Ponyville is ready for a rounder Cheerilee!

She finished the scones and moved on to the turnovers. They were crispy, and so she stuffed three at a time into her mouth, to get a deeply satisfying crunch. She also dipped each of them in a generous amount of caramel. She developed a rhythm on her mouth, with the beat of the song.

Crunch
Crunch
Crunch
Crunch-Crunch-Crunch
Chew
Chew
Swallow
Sweeeeell
Pat
Pat
Pat

And then she’d begin again. After ten rounds of this, and with thirty more turnovers to go, the back of the chair began to crack. The flesh on her rump was beginning to wrap around the spokes and touch each other. After another five rounds, the spokes broke off, falling to the ground, while her rump jiggled backwards, hanging off of the back of it. Cheerilee looked back, and smiled as she saw it jiggle in place. With a lazy grin, she rose to get out of the chair, but found that her flanks bit too much into hoofrests, and the chair stuck onto her backside. She tried to shake it off, but it her flanks were wedged in between them.

“This may be a problem,” she said with a giggle. “Then again, I could just break the rests off.” She looked back and saw the remaining fifteen turnovers waiting for her. She took three into her mouth, chewed in her rhythmic pattern, and swallowed. Her flanks pushed against the hoofrests, and they began to bend, but they held fast. She then took five of them into her mouth and swallowed, feeling the larger amount of food crawl down her throat. The hoofrests continued begin pushed apart, but still held on for dear life. The rest of her body continued filling out, her bulging stomach inching closer to the ground, but Cheerilee was focused on her flanks. With a determination, she took the remaining seven into her mouth and chewed vigorously. With a great effort, she swallowed the whole thing, quaffing a whole mug of cider to help it down.

Her body shook, and ballooned outward. Her stomach pushed back into her bloating thighs, moving halfway between her knees and the floor. Her forelegs sagged considerably due to the weight, looking like it could hold a foal, while her barrel, the slowest thing to grow, became as big as a regular pony’s flanks. By far the most affected part of her body was her backside, which pushed into the chair with a great amount of force. Inch by inch, her flanks jutted out of the hoofrests, which bit into her sides. Her rump distended outwards, each cheek squishing into each other from the chair sandwiching them in. With bated breath, Cheerilee watched as her backside widened and the chair groaned in protest. It began to feel painful, but then, with a crack! the hoofrests broke and flew away, and her backside was free to spread out behind her.

She turned to see her backside, and smiled as her flanks finished growing. Each one of them could easily allow two foals to sleep comfortably on them, and their slight sag made them appear soft, instead of just big; she smiled as she thought of having a pony rest their head on them. Curious, she walked to her living and glanced at her rump in a mirror. It was massive, and each cheek wobbled as she moved. There was a large dimple where her rump met her hock, and she experimentally bounced herself up and down, seeing her full, curvaceous rump in all its glory. With what mobility she could muster, she reached a forehoof over and smacked what she could reach of her rump. The feeling it brought made her moan.

But she knew she wasn’t done yet. With heavy steps, she waddled back to the table and brought the dumplings into focus. Before she began, though, she picked up the remains of the chair-now-stool, set it down in its proper place, and sat down on it. Her flanks and rump hung off of all sides, but besides some creaking, it held.

“This won’t do at all,” she said with a drunken grin. “Looks like I’m not big enough yet.” Finding her range limited by her burgeoning stomach, she rested the pot on her gut and dove into it. The dumplings were fluffy, and she enjoyed how the bread and the apples popped in her mouth. There was no pacing herself, as she was determined to break the stool under her. She ate out of it like she was a dog, head deep in it, munching on five at a time before swallowing and moving on to the next five. Her stomach began pushing the table away from her, and it touched the floor. This time, though, it was her cheeks and chin that took the fastest growth. With her forehead pressed against one side of the pot, her double chin, becoming a triple, squished against the other side, and her bulging cheeks pressed against the other two sides. Her barrel also grew rapidly, pressing into her monstrous forelegs, rounding out and hanging forward like her stomach. The back of her neck and her withers began to rub together.

She reached the bottom, and rolled her rump on the stool; she heard it groan, dangerously close to its end. With this in mind, she popped the rest of the dumplings into her mouth, chewed with great difficulty, and swallowed all of it. It hit her stomach, and her body tingled greater than any of the past experiences. Her whole body crawled outward, every part thickening. The stool under her groaned even more, until one of the legs broke. And then another broke, and then the entire chair collapsed under her weight. She fell a short ways, but the extra padding on her rump prevented her from feeling any pain. With a satisfied huff, Cheerilee lifted herself up, the pot clanging on the ground, and looked at the decimated chair, with its legs lying around and the seat itself looking flatter than before. Happy with herself, she gave her larger rump a shake, reveling at how much it wobbled.

“Mommy’s so proud of you!” she said in a mock-baby-talk tone. “You are so big and beautiful and powerful!”

Her rump, as if sensing its master’s happiness, wobbled with excitement, causing the corpulent and drunk mare to giggle. Her stomach, not to be outdone, growled with contentment, but not with fullness. Cheerilee was beyond caring about the improbableness of the situation, and turned her attention to the last three dishes on the table. With no use for the chair, or any of her chairs anymore, she stood up. Her stomach hung down further, but it had retained an almost spherical appearance, smooth and round, yet squishable. They bit into her massive thighs and flanks, but she couldn’t say it was uncomfortable.

She looked at the apple pies, and could tell from the bubbling that they needed a little while longer to cool down. So she grabbed a ladle from her kitchen drawer and plunged it into the bowl. What came out was a glob of gooey apples and glaze, topped with crispy crust. It hovered below her snout, and she could smell the warm crust and the abundance of glaze-covered apples. Her stomach twitched, and she took the whole ladle into her mouth. It went down the hatch with just a swallow, with no chewing necessary. The cobbler piled into her overpacked stomach, stretching it down further.

Ladle after ladle was poured into her mouth, filling her up further. The lower she got, the hotter it became; while she waited for some of it to cool down, she poured herself more tankards of cider. She had lost count of how much cider she had drank, but her spinning head wouldn’t tell her it was enough. The cobbler and cider went hoof-in-hoof, and soon her body was feeling almost twice as good. Her body felt light and heavy at the same time, but it was always constantly warm.

The floor began to creak whenever her legs shifted. This was more music than anything, and as the last of the cider disappeared inside of her, and she set the ladle down, she rested all four hooves and heard a light creaking from the floor. Cheerilee steadied herself and listened to the creaking. Then, once the floor and her body settled, she turned her attention to the apple pies, which had cooled down enough, yet still emitted a cloud of steam. Cheerilee sniffed them, and could tell these treats had the prime apples, the most cinnamon and filling, and the thickest crust.

“Now all that’s missing from these masterpieces is whipped cream,” Cheerilee said with a pout.

“Wait a minute…”

Her eyes shifted from the pies to the oven, and then to the lunchbox that had sat on the oven contraption. She didn’t know why she hadn’t opened it before, but she waddled over and took it in her mouth. She could still hear cider bubbling at the top of it, louder due to the kindled fire. Her hopes were raised: it was cold to the touch. She opened it, and buried in ice were six cans of whipped cream, all unopened.

“Thank Celestia!” she yelled, throwing her forehooves in the air. “Apple Bloom, you are the best.” She grabbed all six and placed each one with a different apple pie. “Alright, my pretties. Time to join your apple buddies inside me!” Her stomach growled in anticipation.

There was a moment of admiring the perfect pies, and then she pulled one into her reach and plunged her muzzle into it. The apples and filling were much more delicious than she had expected, and she found herself gulping it down from the first one. The crust had a satisfying crunch as well. She grabbed a can of whipped cream and sprayed all of its content on the remains of the pie, and then dug back in. The cold cream was a nice counterbalance to the piping hot apples and filling. The first one was finished, and with that, her belly bounced as it hit her stomach, and her body tingled and growled with satisfaction. The pie alerted her that she was getting full, as her belly distended further. She was not going to let that stop her.

She went to her kitchen and grabbed a pie tray, and then grabbed the second pie and whipped cream bottle. Carefully, she cut this pie into six separate pieces, and then placed one slice on the plate, dousing it in whipped cream. Then carefully, she deposited the whole slice into her mouth, making sure to get the whipped cream inside as well. Her stomach filled out by just a little bit this time. She continued this process for the next five slices, and the next pie, finishing off two and two cans of whipped cream.

It was becoming difficult to swallow, and so Cheerilee grabbed her tankard and was about to fill it up with cider. Then, looking at the nozzle, and struggling to lift her foreleg up, she decided to drop the tankard, position herself under the nozzle, and turn it on. Warm cider rushed into her throat, caressing her tongue and pleasantly stinging her throat with its heat. Her belly filled out like a water balloon, sagging down further and further, getting bigger and bigger and bigger. Her head was spinning with euphoria, not wanting the moment to end. But, like all good things, the cider finally ran out, and she staggered back to the table for the last of the treats.

With the pie slices, she found that her stomach wasn’t producing that bounce that she was loving from the pies, and so she pushed the remaining three pies towards her, doused them in whipped cream and what caramel there was from the caramel apples, and then set to swallowing the remaining ones whole. The first one worked her cheeks and jaw a bit, but she managed to fit the whole thing, with a mountain of whipped cream and caramel, into her mouth. There was a satisfying glomp! as it landed in her stomach, and the tingling sensation was twice as good as any she had experienced. Her entire body filled out further. Satisfied, she gulped down the last two pies, and felt the tingling sensation.

Now she was full. The applesauce sat there, waiting to be devoured, and her stomach hungered for it, but Cheerilee decided that she was done. With sluggish motions, she strode to her gramophone and put on a specific song. “Now,” she said, her chipmunk cheeks wobbling up and down. “Let’s dance!”

A light keyboard introduction led into a synthetic drum beat and a funky guitar chorus, and Cheerilee began to dance with her massive zaftig body. She threw her trunk-like forelegs out in front of her, and they undulated and shook as she brought them down. Her barrel wobbled from side to side, the back of her neck resting and rubbing against her flabby back, while her triple chin swayed like a pendulum, occasionally slapping against her neck. Her stomach, spherical as it was, almost touched the ground as it swayed and bounced. Her flanks waved and undulated as they bounced around, large enough for a full-grown mare to rest on. Her rump jutted out three feet behind her, and threatened to smash anything behind her as she shook it from side to side.

The song ended, and she was covered in sweat. She took a deep breath, and noticed something odd. She did it again, and felt it: her stomach pressed itself against the ground. She had become big enough for her belly to touch the ground. Excited, she took in as deep a breath as she could, feeling her stomach pressing harder and harder against the ground. Just as her hooves began to be lifted up, she stopped, and held her breath. The volume of her stomach caused her to blush; she was darn proud of this accomplishment. She exhaled, and her belly returned to its almost-touching-the-ground size.

“Right,” she panted. “I think now is a very good time for that bath.” She began walking to her stairs, and listened to the heavy creaking the floor gave when she took a step. “Well, I’ve certainly put on some weight, haven’t I?” She giggled and shifted her weight, reveling in the whining. “Apple Bloom will be pleased.” She continued to the stairs, but turned back to grab the bowl of applesauce. “Just in case,” she told herself as she waddled up her stairs.

They creaked and bent in agony as she stepped on them. She didn’t care, though, as she was too drunk and filled with the Itis to really care, and the creaking provided a good entrance theme for her special moment. What did catch her attention was the feeling of her flanks rubbing against each side of her stairway, almost threatening to trap her in there. She didn’t mind one bit about this, either. Reaching the top, her body threatened to trap her in the doorway to her bathroom as well. She had to rock back and forth in order to avoid her stomach wedging itself in there, and then had to maneuver her backside in there.

Finally, she was at her bathroom. Panting from the tremendous effort of making it here, she immediately turned the water on, watching as it began to fill the tub. Thank Celestia I splurged and bought a large tub, she thought to herself. I wouldn’t fit in otherwise! She chuckled and set the bowl of applesauce next to the tub, and then set to preparing for her hour of relaxation. She dumped a generous amount of lavender-scented soap in the tub, creating a layer of bubbles on top. She then grabbed some of her scented candles and lit them, mixing the air with a sweet cinnamon scent (which unwittingly caused her stomach to growl). She turned her lights off and allowed the light from the candles, and the dimness of the room, to lull her into a state of relaxation. Finally, she went to her bathroom-installed gramophone (she wanted to create the perfect relaxation spot) and placed a certain vinyl disc in in.

The tub was full enough, and she shut the water off. The song began with a light piano introduction, and with that Cheerilee stepped into the water. Her hooves were hit with a great warmth, and she sunk into the water. Her body slowly plopped in the tub, raising the water level considerably, and now Cheerilee was warm on the inside and on the outside.

“This is heaven,” she said, leaning back. “I had a great day, my students wrote great essays, I had a great dinner, I have a great figure, and now I get to have a great moment to relax.” She took a deep breath, and sunk into the water up to her nostrils and ears. The music continued into a lower-key piano solo, and everything was calm.

It was peace. The lavender and cinnamon wafted into her nostrils, while the bubbles tickled her body and the top of her belly. The music was calm, and the room and water were warm. Everything was peaceful, and nothing was misplaced. Everything was perfect.

That didn’t stop Cheerilee from getting curious about the applesauce sitting next to her. For one thing, it was much thicker than any she had purchased from the family. For another thing, it shone and wobbled in a way that wasn’t like regular applesauce, but in a way that enticed her to try some. Her stomach growled faintly, impossibly stuffed with food, yet wanting at least a taste of it.

Neither rapidly nor sluggishly, she shifted her weight forward, and reached over the rim of the tub. Some water made its way into the bowl, but not too much. She brought it up to rest on the rim, and poked it with a hoof. It was definitely thicker than regular applesauce, and that enticed her all the more to try it out.

With no hesitation, she scooped up a bit of it and placed it in her mouth, like a bear would with honey. It was thick, and pleasantly cool. The cinnamon was present, as was a lot of sugar, she could tell. Before she could savor it, though, her stomach growled in a low tone, and she was forced to swallow it.

That was when the strangest sensation yet took place. As the clarinet played a tune akin to one a snake charmer would use—this would’ve been the part of the song that would’ve enticed her imagination to go into the exotic—she could feel the applesauce slowly crawling down her throat; she was somehow able to breathe clearly, even with it crawling downwards. As it was travelling downward, her barrel became tight, and then it began to push outward. It wasn’t a quick jolt, but it was getting just a bit bigger than usual, slowly, tantalizingly, taking its time to treat her to a pleasant pressure. It moved down to her forelegs, and she felt the pressure there, and they filled up a bit more, being pushed outwards. And then the sauce reached her stomach, and she felt something akin to a small explosion in her stomach. The applesauce cradled her entire gut, and slowly began to push it outwards. Cheerilee was transfixed as she saw her belly slowly rising out of the water, not by much, but with a lot of pressure. A moan escaped her lips as the pressure shifted to her flanks, which filled up and outwards from under the water, slowly encroaching on the sides of the tub. The most pressure, though, was on her rump, and she could feel the sauce accumulating back there and filling out. She rose a bit higher, and then it stopped.

She guesstimated that her body had become bigger by only a fraction of an inch, but that was from a whole hooffull of applesauce. And there was a bowl waiting to be devoured. The song switched to a steady flute on a low key, and with a feeling of calmness, she lifted the bowl up, tipped the bowl towards her, and began to drink. It was a slow process, as the applesauce had to crawl down her throat and thicken her neck and barrel, but it was worth it as the pressure continued pushing her figure outwards. Her triple chin sagged further into the water, while her cheeks rounded out to where each one could hold a whole three apple on each side. Her neck was probably as big as a regular pony’s waist. Her forelegs sagged further and further, threatening to swallow her knees in their new form, even thickening her cannons. Her stomach was determined to reach the other side of the tub, and the top of it continued to rise out of the water. Her hindlegs, spread out as far as they could go and still being slightly covered by her stomach, were also getting larger, with her flanks rubbing against each of the sides of the tub, and her rump continuing to spill out under her.

She was almost done, and soon she felt herself being wedged into the tub, with the water spilling out from the restricted space. Her massive flanks were beginning to be squished on either side of her, threatening to trap her backside. Her stomach began touching the opposite wall, forcing her back, with her thickened back pressing her forward. She wouldn’t let this stop her, however. She was bent on finishing the last of it. As it crawled down her throat, she waited with bated breath as she continued filling out. Her backside was beginning to hurt from being packed in so tightly, while her encroaching stomach forced her to lift her head and rest her chin on it. From an outsider’s standpoint, it would look like she was the thing meant to fill up the tub.

Finally, as her stomach threatened to spill over the rim of the tub, the music and the growth stopped. There was no sense of panic in Cheerilee’s eyes; there was only a sense of supreme satisfaction. There was no more water left in the bathtub, most of it spilling out of the tub and being sucked up by the bathroom drain. With a herculean effort, she shimmied left and right until her forehoof was able to grab the rim of the tub. Then, with an even larger effort, she pulled herself up and rolled herself out. She landed on her rump with a thud!, and pulled herself up with her forelegs. She found that her hindlegs would no longer touch the ground, and her thighs were pressing into her gut. Wondering what the applesauce had done to her, she pulled herself to her mirror and took a look at herself.

Her stomach was a round globe of fat, pushing her body up, and leaving her hindlegs dangling on either side. Her barrel almost sagged low enough to the floor, and her chin reached down to her withers, while her cheeks were cherubic. Her entire body, even to her back, shook and undulated trying to steady itself. With a grunt of effort, she spun herself around and got a view of her flank. It was large enough for a stallion to curl up and sleep on, if she were on her side. Her hock stuck out, immobile, chunkier as well. With another grunt, she turned again, and got a clear view of her rump. Each gigantic cheek sagged only slightly, filled with pressure, supple and soft. It shook the most out of her body parts, and took the longest to stop.

Only one word escaped her mouth from the full-body view:

“Beautiful.”

With another grunt, she grabbed a towel from the wall and pulled herself towards her door. At this size, there would be no conceivable way to get through the doorway; however, even with a spinning foggy euphoric mind, Cheerilee was still Ponyville’s schoolteacher, and knew a thing or two about things. She had left the bathtub, but she was covered in soap from the lavender bubble bath, and she used this to squeeze herself out of the door. The doorframe both creaked and squeaked, bringing a pleasant melody to her ears. She shimmied back and forth, side to side, and inch by inch she squeezed herself through the doorway. At last, she popped out of the doorway and landed next to her world. She did the same thing with her bedroom door, and was soon comfortably in her room.

Now she allowed herself to dry off, which took a considerable amount of effort given her new size and limited mobility. As dry as she would get, she inched her way towards her bed. Realizing she wouldn’t be able to climb on it, she began rolling herself back and forth, like a turtle on its back. She went further and further, until she had enough momentum to roll herself onto her bed. Immediately, the legs collapsed, bringing the mattress onto the ground.

“Oh well,” she said with a huff. “At least it’ll be easier getting out of bed now.” With that thought, she looked up at her body. Her chins almost blended in with the rest of her body, and her barrel had roll after roll after roll. Her stomach was the giant of the bed, and Cheerilee looked upon it, reaching for the ceiling like a skyscraper. She reached one of her bloated forelegs up to try and grab the top of it, but couldn’t. Still, she had plenty to rub, pat, slap and shake. Her right flank touched the wall, while her left one hung off the side of the mattress; her rump bumped against her storage chest, at the foot of her bed. All the while, her back provided a soft padding along with her soft mattress.

“This has been one heck of a day,” she mused to herself as she drifted to sleep. Her tummy growled in satisfaction, and set on digesting with was still in her overpacked stomach.

*The Next Morning*

Cheerilee waddled up the front steps of the schoolhouse and lingered there, listening to the excited chatter of her students inside. She had no idea how they’d react to her new form, but she knew somehow, it would be alright. She was surprised that those early-bird ponies that had seen her hadn’t insulted her new form at all—in fact, she could’ve swore that Big Macintosh had ogled her from all angles, and the thought of that caused her to blush.

She had shrunk some since she had gone to bed last night. Her stomach hung down, as spherical as before, but only just almost dragging on the floor. Her thighs rubbed together as she walked, and her flanks could now just barely squeeze through doors (with some shimmying on her part, not to the dismay of some stallions that saw her leaving her home). Her chins, cheeks, back and forelegs had remained their same thick selves, but she thought she could see that her rump had grown a bit. In any case, she saw her new backside as a blessing.

With a deep breath, she opened the door. “Good morning, class!”

“Good morning, Miss Cheeri—“ The class went dead silent as they saw their teacher, who had nothing out of the ordinary for a mare’s physique, squeezing her massive rump through the school door. Nopony moved as she popped through the hole, and nopony took their eyes off her as she strode to her desk. She turned around and set her materials on the desk, and noticed that her students were still gawking.

“As you may have noticed, I have put on a bit of weight—“

“A BIT!?” As she said this, Sweetie Belle immediately threw her hooves into her mouth.

Instead of getting angry, Cheerilee chuckled. “Okay, I’m a mammoth of a mare!” She picked up the stack of papers on her desks. “Now, I’ll pass out your reports.” She began walking along each desk; none of her students had stopped staring at her new figure. “You all did really well, and I’m proud to say that these were some of the best papers I’ve ever read from any of my students!” She felt some ponies poking and prodding her, and she merely allowed them to do so. “Most of you got A’s, while some of you got B’s. But you all did very well, and I couldn’t be happier.” She set Apple Bloom’s down last, not only giving her her report, but also giving her the survey for the food. She watched as the filly’s eyes widened at the overall comment: “Would recommend everything to anypony!” Apple Bloom looked at her to see if she understood, and Cheerilee awarded her with a nod. The filly blushed, and Cheerilee stooped down and whispered “thank you.”

She finished passing them out, and she watched her students’ reactions. They only took a few seconds to look at their grade before their eyes went back to her. They didn’t browse through her comments on any of the other pages; they were too busy eyeing her. And Cheerilee wasn’t disturbed by this.

“How about story time, my little ponies?” The class blinked, obviously confused. “You all did very well, and I think starting the day off with a story will be a nice treat for you!” She waddled over and picked a random book of fairy tales. It didn’t matter which one she picked, but what did matter was what she did next. Very slowly, she lowered herself, and positioned herself on her side. Her stomach hung next to her, while her hindlegs curled around and pressed into what they could of it.

She looked at her class, waiting to see if anypony would do what she wanted. Nopony moved, probably too stunned to do so. With a sigh, she focused her gaze on Apple Bloom, trying to get a message across.

Whether it was magic, or if something clicked, Apple Bloom raised her hoof. “Miss Cheerilee?”

“C-can I lay next you?”

Cheerilee grinned. “Of course you can!” She patted the space next to her, and a bit of her stomach. The filly cantered over and set herself down next to her teacher’s large belly, snuggling herself next to it. The class watched as she made herself comfortable.

Now Cheerilee opened the book to a random fairy tale. “Ahem—“

She didn’t get a chance to read the first word, as Sweetie Belle had galloped over and snuggled herself next to her belly as well, next to Apple Bloom. Cheerilee nodded her permission, and cleared her throat again. Soon, however, Featherweight trotted over and snuggled himself on her squishy back, and then Silver Spoon came over, and soon the entire class was trying to find a spot on their teacher.

Soon she had two foals nestled in between her forelegs, four next to her stomach, five on her back, and two on her flanks. Even Diamond Tiara had nestled herself next to her withers, not being able to hide her pleasure at the feeling. With a satisfied nod, she cleared her throat and began to read, just barely noticing her little ponies curling into sleep.