Author's Note

I am very, very sorry that this is three weeks late. In this chapter, I went deep into several character motivations, which was new and challenging territory for me. Making motivations clash is harder than it looks, at least for me (but maybe that's because I'm not very good). Anywho, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

The Checkup on the Restrained

If there was one thing that Photo Finish hated more than anything, it was herself being late for work. When the sunlight had hit her face, she had nearly careened off of the bed with how frantic she threw herself up. Realizing that she was behind her schedule, she had darted out of the room before even donning her goggles.

In her panic, she had unconsciously skipped her breakfast and her grooming as she rushed toward the front door. Her mind screamed at her to take care of these things—Finish’s morning routine was sacred to her—and yet she continued to ignore them. “I must get to work!” she cried out, trying in vain to calm the voices in her head. “I cannot wait!”

The images that had been pervading her mind, and the burning in her loins, didn’t register as she reached for the knob. The only thing there was work, and her reputation as a punctual mare to uphold. In reality, it would be a few hours until her studio would be open for business, but she already imagined Pins N’ Needles, the second mare to show up for work, waiting by the front door for Finish to open up.

Thinking straight was beyond her at that moment, and as the door opened, her mind focused only on propelling herself down her walkway, down the streets, and off to work. So she didn’t notice the mare in front of her, and plowed right into her chest. She fell back with a thud, landing on her back and knocking the wind out of her. Before she could yell at the offending pony, a voice called out to her—or rather, called down to her.

“Oh, my stars, I am so sorry, Photo Finish! I didn’t see ya’ comin’ out of your house.” The voice caused her to freeze. “You look like you’re in a hurry to get somewhere.”

She lifted herself up to a sitting position, groaning as her back ached. “Good morning, Miss Pancake. It is so good to see you.”

“Are you alright?” Fanny asked, offering a hoof to help Finish up. She took it, and marveled at how effortlessly Fanny lifted her up. “You look like you took quite a fall there.”

“You are telling me,” Finish moaned. “I am late for work.”

Fanny looked up at the sky. “Late for work? I figured you were an early riser, but it’s not even seven o’clock!” Fanny’s expression turned gentler than her cheerful demeanor usually was. “You could use a rest.”

Finish shook her head. “I do not need a rest. I must be off.”

“Are you sure?” Fanny reached out a foreleg to drape it on Finish’s back, and the thickness and warmness of it soothed her. “I mean, you don’t even have your dress on! I’ve never seen you without it.”

“What?!” The word spat out of her control. She jerked her head around, and found her blue fur exposed for everypony to see. “Ohmystars, I have forgotten my dress!” She dashed around to dive back into her house, and instantly found her muzzle smashing against the door. For a moment, all she could see were stars.

When she came to, she found herself on her living room couch with an icepack on her muzzle. She tried to remove it, but when she did she felt a searing pain, and saw blood on the paper towel between her skin and the ice pack. It went back on, and she groggily rose.

“Is that you, Miss Finish?” Fanny’s sweet voice called from the kitchen. “How’re you feeling?”

She attempted to sniffle, but the hardened blood made that difficult. “I am feeling a little better. Thank you.”

When she stepped into the kitchen, she found Fanny over her stove, stirring something in her pot. Without a sense of smell, and without any residue on the countertops, she couldn’t tell what it was. “Waste not, want not, I suppose. Or maybe she ate all of the leftovers.” This came out mumbled, so Fanny didn’t hear her.

In that instant, she noticed how Fanny’s rump swayed pendulously as she cooked. I am alone with the greatest MMM right now. Should I take this moment to get romantic with her?

Do you not remember how sore you are?

That doesn’t matter right now. I have the greatest MMM in my home, cooking food! Why should I pass this opportunity up?

You know what? You’re probably right.

I know I am.

Do what you gotta do.

Instead of getting chastised (or perhaps complimented) on her remark, she merely took a seat at her table; her mind was still foggy. At the same time, Fanny took a ladle hanging over the stove and dipped it into the bowl.

“I hope you don’t mind my taking over your kitchen,” Fanny said, pouring the contents of the ladle into a bowl. “Your stomach was growling, and I figured you tried leaving for work without eating anything. This should help you get your strength up.”

Finish looked down at the bowl, seeing a stew of potatoes, carrots, turnips and beans in a light broth. Instantly, she regretted knocking her muzzle against the door, for she knew that it would’ve smelled heavenly. “Thank you,” she moaned, dipping her spoon in the concoction. When she noticed Fanny standing there, watching her eat, she motioned to the opposite chair. “Please sit.”

Fanny chuckled. “Thank you for the offer, darling, but I don’t think your chairs were built to withstand my posterior.” She gave her backside a slight shake. “Or the rest of me, for that matter.”

Stooooooooooooop!

“But I would like to talk to you, if that’s okay.”

Finish looked up from her food to see Fanny’s stern look. The tone of the visit had gone from friendly to businesslike in a second. Maybe she wishes to talk about the photo shoot. Finally! “Yes, we can talk.”

Fanny sighed, the intake of air stretching her belly to rest on the tile floor. She must’ve eaten breakfasts already. “Look, I don’t mean any insult you by saying this, but—“

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

“Ach, blast!” Finish rose violently and shouted, “Who is it?”

A voice called from the front. “It’s your star model, Fleur de Lys!”

Finish’s blood froze. No, not here, not now! She quickly looked at Fanny, whose eyes were squinting at the doorway like daggers. “I-I am sorry, Miss Pancake—“

“No worries,” Fanny said in a lower tone than usual. “You go on and take care of what she needs.” She went to the stove and pulled out two more bowls for the stew. “I’ll set up a bowl for her.”

“Danke.” Finish walked to the door, still holding the ice pack to her muzzle. Before she reached the door, it opened with Fleur’s magic. Fleur had a purple coat on, despite it being warm for Canterlot weather, and a pair of sunglasses. “Oh, good morning, Miss Fleur—“

“Morning,” Fleur said curtly, striding into the lobby. “Mind if I come in?”

“Well, as a fact of the matter—“

“Woah.” Fleur’s voice grew quiet. Fanny had peeked her head out of the kitchen, and a portion of her massive body peeked out with it. “What are you doing here?”

Fanny cocked her head in a dismissive manner. “I’m just here to talk business with Photo Finish. I fixed up some grub, too, if you’re hungry.”

Fleur made no response to the larger mare; instead, she turned to Finish. “I actually came here to talk about her and her friends.” Before Finish could reply, she cut to the point. “Why were you with them yesterday?”

Finish straightened herself up; it was time to put all of her hiding to good use. “I was trying to work out some business with Miss Pancake. We have set up a photo shoot.”

“Oh?” Fleur uttered, bemused. “But I don’t recall any photo shoot taking place in a chocolate store.” Out of the pocket of her coat, she pulled out a photo and gave it to Finish.

It showed Finish and Black Forest, one after the other, entering the factory after Fanny had squeezed through. The doorway had been cracked, and the walls had bulged out slightly, but that hadn’t been what had caught her attention. Finish was smiling as she entered, and Black Forest had obviously been staring at her as she walked. The onlookers had begun to disperse at that time.

“You took this?” Finish asked coolly.

“No,” Fleur replied, straightening her height up above Finish’s. “Somepony brought this to me.”

A paparazzi. “What of it? I do not think it is of concern where I do my business.”

“Oh, it’s not a matter of where. It’s a matter of with whom you conduct your business.” Fleur made a not-so-subtle gesture towards Fanny. “I understand that business is business, but you must think about your reputation.”

Before Finish could say anything, Fanny stepped out of the kitchen. “There won’t be much to say about her reputation. She’s only supplying the equipment, nothing more.”

Wait, what?

Fleur crinkled her muzzle at her entrance. “Is that all? Then she doesn’t have anything to worry about.”

“She shouldn’t have anything to worry about by photographing ponies of a larger weight class.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Yes.” Fanny sighed. “We all have our own beauty to us. Just so long as we’re not vain about it.”

Fleur glared at her. “Sure.”

Fanny sighed. “But, Photo Finish, I’ve actually come here to ask that you not come to the photo shoot.”

“What!?”

Both mares backed away when she blurted that out. Fleur’s brow raised as she turned to Fanny.

“I know that it is uncomfortable for you to be around us—“

“But—“ Before she would protest, she caught sight of Fleur’s brows raising in curiosity. She immediately stopped talking.

“—And even though I don’t want to admit it, it might do some things for your reputation if you’re shooting photos for us.”

“My—“ Another look, another instant of closing her mouth.

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, I really do, but I think it would be best for everypony if you didn’t show up. Plus, you’re making some of the girls nervous, and I think they’d be intimidated if you were to show up to shoot photos for them.”

“I’d bet.”

“So I am letting you know that you don’t have to come.” She smiled.

Finish’s mouth hung open, not believing what she had just heard. “Will your cameraman be able to work the machinery? It is delicate equipment, after all.”

“Don’t worry your head about it.” Fanny patted her back. “He is very competent at his job; he’s been doing this for ten years now. Even then, you can show Coco how to operate it, right?”

Her mind flashed to that mare. “Coco…”

“You mean your fat dressmaker?” Fleur sniffled. “Yeah, I’d think she’d fit right in there.”

“Hey!” Fanny stepped towards her, prompting Fleur to shuffle backwards. “You can make fun of me all you want, but you damn well had better leave Coco out of it!”

Fleur shuffled behind Finish. “Okay, okay, I understand. Leave Coco alone, got it!” She squealed when Fanny took another step forward.

With that, Fanny bowed towards the pair. “I suppose I’ve said all I had to say. Photo Finish, don’t worry yourself about the photo shoot. I’m grateful that you would lend us your equipment, and I just don’t want you to trouble yourself with coming along.” Before Finish could say anything, Fanny strutted for the door.

“Wait,” Finish muttered.

“Yes?” Fanny asked, obviously peeved at this point.

What could she say? Reinstate her as the head of the photo shoot, at the risk of being banned from it for good? She isn’t repulsed by fat ponies, at the risk of losing Fleur as a client? Tell Fleur to apologize, at the risk of everything becoming worse? All of these things stopped in her throat, and all she could say was: “I wish you luck.”

Even without looking back, she could tell that Fanny was smiling. “Thanks, dear. I wish you and Fleur here luck as well.” She left, the door frame scuffing as she squeezed her flanks through, then the door slamming shut behind her.

“I should leave as well,” Fleur said after a length, her outlook a lot cheerier. “I appreciate your work, Finish, and I can’t wait to see the finished product!” Fleur skipped merrily out of the room and out the door, leaving Finish to herself.

The lonely mare’s heart pounded inside her. I have just lost one of my most valuable clients, all because I can’t tell anypony the truth! I should run out there and find her and—

You can’t do that.

Why not?

Because somepony might be watching.

Who would be watching us? Fleur? She wants nothing to do with Fanny in the slightest.

And yet she acquired a photograph of you and her, and the rest of the fat ponies.

That… oh my stars, you’re right? How did she get that? Why did she get that? Is she thinking about blackmailing me? Does she know my secret?

And if she does, why wouldn’t she just outright come and say it? Why pressure you like she did?

Who could she have gotten to take these photographs? It had to have been somepony who—

Another knock at the door.

“Sheise, what now?” Finish turned swiftly, which only caused her head to swim, and teetered to the front door. With a groan, she opened it.

“What—“

It came out as a bark, but once she saw the pony there, her voice died.

“H—h—h—h—Oh, French Vanilla! I was not expecting you to come here!”

It was French Vanilla, her face fidgeting and downcast. “H-Hello, Madamoiselle Finish. M-May I—What happened to your muzzle?”

Finish once again became conscious of the pain and the towel on her muzzle. “Nothing too serious. How can I help you?”

“May I come in?”

Finish couldn’t help her face lighting up. “Of course, meine freunde, of course! Come right on in.” As French stepped inside, Finish spoke up from behind. “There is stew in the kitchen. Your friend Fanny made it this morning.”

French whipped around. “Oh, Fanny was here?”

“Ja.”

“Why?”

“For business reasons,” Finish found herself mumbling, still bitter over earlier’s business.

French scuffed the ground. “Oh, that’s… good.” She looked down at the ground. “I’m sorry for coming in like this. I know you’re a busy mare.”

“Oh, no! Not at the moment, I—“ Her mind jolted. Wait, I have to get to work! I hope what French has to say will be quick.

Instead, French seemed to mumble. “A-about yesterday.”

“Yes?”

“I just wanted to apologize.”

Finish balked. “For what?”

“For my behavior yesterday.” Finish noticed that French was tensing up. She didn’t look like she was going to cry, and didn’t have that throaty whistle to her voice. Every movement she made, however, seemed to deliberate, as if it didn’t want to go out of line. Even her corpulence was more subdued, shaking a lot less than at the factory. “I shouldn’t have been such a spoil-sport. I’m sorry if I ruined your fu—I mean business.”

Finish raised a brow. This can’t be. Not another one of you, coming to tell me that I’ve done a bad job! I already know that! “It is okay, French Vanilla. You were of no offense yesterday.”

“You are being too kind,” French continued, stepping in place. It seemed to Finish that she was growing more nervous. “I know you and Fanny are talking about the photo shoot. I hang out with Fanny a lot at this time, and if you need some alone time to discuss things, you can tell me to go away.”

Why would I do that?

Why wouldn’t you do that? Fanny is more knowledgeable. She would get in the way of business.

But telling her to go away is rude. I don’t want to distance her.

“Okay.”

Why did I just say that?

Because it is the right thing to say.

French flinched.

That was the wrong thing to say!

“I don’t understand what it takes to maintain such professionalism in one’s social life, so forgive me if I have offended.” She hesitated. “Um… what I am trying to say is that I don’t know how you keep up the straight face and business set of mind.”

Finish couldn’t help the chuckle the spat out of her. “You would be surprised how hard it is.” Especially with somepony like you and Dark around me, you fat vixen you.

“So I will try and stay out of your way, okay?”

“Oh, okay.”

Smooth.

“Well… okay then.” French began stepping out of the room. “Thank you for seeing me today, Photo Finish. I very much appreciate it. And I wish your photo shoot—our photo shoot goes very well. Thank you.”

Before Finish could register what was going on, French wrapped her in a hug. Finish’s breast sank into hers, her neck was squeezed by hers, her cheek was smothered by hers. From this view, Finish could see her rump jiggling from the forwards motion; her eyes were entranced on it. Unlike Coco’s slight jiggle, which was like a small earthquake, French’s rump shook like a wave, like somepony had dropped a glob of jelly on the floor.

Perhaps I can push my luck here. Have her cuddle with me while I tell her how she doesn’t have to worry about anything.

You could, but what would Dark say?

Maybe she’d want to join in.

Are you serious?

They did it with Black Forest, didn’t they?

They’re friends. For all they know, you’re nothing but a business associate.

Finish groaned. “I apologize, but I must be getting on my way.”

“Oh, excusez-moi!” French backed away, her rump bouncing around wildly, just out of Finish’s sight. “I had no idea. Well, I did, you are a busy mare.” Before Finish could explain herself, French scuttled past Finish and towards the front door, affording Finish more of her large backside. “I must be off as well. Dark is probably worried sick wondering where I am!” She opened the door and dashed out. “Au revoir!” The door slowly closed behind.

Finish stood in the middle of her living room again, stunned. What is happening?

Why are all of these ponies coming over and giving me bad news?

Why didn’t you tell French that Fanny had asked you not to come by?

…Ach, I didn’t tell her that! Why didn’t I tell her that?

You were too busy staring at her rump.

I know.

At least it was good, right?

Yes. I wish I had more time to— She gasped. I have to get to work!

Another round of rushing out the door, and this time, she had no plans on stopping. Nopony had better be out there, or else they’re going to her a face full of angry mare!

She opened the door and sped out, only to slam headfirst into somepony else.

“Ooh, ah! Who is it?!”

“Entshuldigung, meine fruende.”

Finish immediately relaxed. Black Forest’s dulcet voice rang in her ear as the mare helped Finish up with her magic. The pack of ice went back onto her muzzle with the softest of touches.

“Danke schön, Black Forest,” Finish mumbled. “I am sorry, I am in a hu—“

Her breath caught once again, this time realizing that Black Forest had no clothes on. It wasn’t unnatural seeing a pony clothesless, yet Finish had never seen her without a sweater or tracksuit on. Her belly hung freely, nearly bobbing along the floor, while the rest of her followed along with grace.

“What is it?” Black Forest asked with a smile. “Do I have something on my coat?

Finish’s breath was heavier than usual as she spoke. “No, Black Forest, your coat is perfectly pristine.”

The look Black Forest gave Finish was one she couldn’t immediately decipher. She was still smiling, but her eyes were intense, as if waiting for something. For a while, they just stared at one another. It was making Finish uncomfortable, and the more uncomfortable she felt, the more it looked like Black Forest’s smile grew.

Finally, she couldn’t take any more. “You are teasing me, are you not?”

“Goodness, no,” Black Forest said, stepping forward so that they were side by side. “I am just concerned about my appearance. I mean, it simply wouldn’t do if something were out of place, would it? Speaking of ‘out-of-place,’ what happened to your muzzle?”

“I hit my head.”

“Ach, I am sorry. Do you need anything?”

“No.”

“Then may I come in?”

Finish couldn’t stop looking at Black Forest’s immaculate coat, her large belly mere inches from her side. She did her best to maintain eye contact with Black Forest, which wasn’t difficult to fake, considering she had her near-impenetrable goggles on, but she still made the effort.

Black Forest didn’t seem to notice as she asked again, “May I come in?”

“Hmm? Oh, I do not believe I have time to chat. I am late for work, and I must be off.” She maneuvered herself around Black Forest, waiting for the mare to back away. Black did so, and she reached for the door.

“I must say, I’ve never seen you without your dress before.”

Finish froze. Damn! I still don’t have it on!

“You look nice without it.”

Finish shook her head as she opened the door. “Danke, but I cannot show up for work without it. Since I must go in, I will invite you inside.”

Black Forest’s eyes narrowed. “Thank you. I would just love to catch up with you about the photo shoot.”

Finish groaned. “I would rather not.”

They both stepped inside. As Finish raced up her stairs, Black Forest stepped inti the kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind if I get myself a drink.”

“No, not at a—“ Finish froze. “A-a-a drink?”

“Yes,” Black Forest said, peeking her head out of the kitchen. “I worked up such a thirst walking here. I just need a quick drink of water.”

She’s not saying a cup or glass! Do something! “Yes, have as much as you like.”

“Thank you.” She didn’t say anything more as she slipped back into the kitchen.

As she cantered towards her room to grab her trademark dress, she thought frenetically to herself. Why is Black Forest acting like this? What is her goal? Is she going to tell me not to come either? And why wasn’t she here with Fanny or French?

No explanation came to mind as she slipped on her dress, now feeling less naked. She staggered back downstairs, believing herself ready enough to leave the ice pack; the pain had numbed down enough for her to handle. But as she stepped into the kitchen, she pressed it firmly against her muzzle, feeling a nosebleed coming her way.

Black Forest was hunched over the sink, her gut pressing into the cabinet under it. The faucet was firmly inside her muzzle, and each swallow she took forced her neck to bulge. Without her usual sweaters, her slowly expanding gut looked sorta comical to Finish. In another respect, she looked so natural, so unfettered, so…

So free to expand.

She might’ve let Black Forest have much more than her fill, had the other mare not turned around. Slowly, she took the faucet out and set it down. “I apologize. I was really thirsty.”

“Do not worry about it.”

“I won’t.” Black Forest smiled. “Now, why don’t you tell me about your progress with our photo shoot? I hear you’ve been putting in a considerable effort to make sure it comes out perfectly, like everything you do.”

Finish didn’t even feel a blush coming on, as earlier’s conversation came back to her. “Actually, I will just be providing the equipment.”

Black Forest’s brow raised. “What do you mean?”

Finish suppressed a sigh. “I have been asked not to come.”

“By who?”

“By Fanny.”

“Did she say why?”

“Yeah, she says that she would not want me to trouble myself, when I have other clients to attend to.”

Black Forest rubbed the faucet in her hoof. “I see. That does make sense. Our camerapony is capable of handling equipment himself.”

“So I have heard.”

“But still, I would like for you to come.”

Finish looked up, confused. “Why?”

“I think… it would be good for everypony if you attended.”

“Why?” Finish was beginning to feel something gnawing in her stomach.

“Just because.”

Finish scuffed the ground. “I do not think that would be a good idea. Fanny was persistent when I refused at first.”

Black set the faucet back in its rightful place. “I see.” She slumped back onto her fours, her belly lightly bouncing against the tile floor. “Don’t you worry about a thing, Miss Finish. I will have a chat with her about your coming.”

Finish raised a brow. “I do not think that is necessary—“

“Perhaps not,” she continued. “But I will put in a good word for you.” She walked past her. “I wasn’t expecting to leave so soon, but I have business to attend to. It was pleasurable talking to you.”

“Yes, it was a pleasure as well.” Finish didn’t turn around as Black Forest took her leave, her belly lightly dragging against the carpet as she walked out. The front door hesitated before closing.

So Fanny doesn’t want me to come, but Black Forest does? How will she convince her?

What makes you think she can convince her at all?

It’s the only hope I have, to be sure.

But the other ponies?

She’d have to talk with them as well.

And do you think she can do that?

There’s no reason to doubt. Black Forest is a wonderful speaker.

A wonderful everything.

With a wonderful belly.

Another knock at the door.

“Nein, I must leave for work!” Finish checked her clock again: she was forty-five minutes past schedule! Now she only had an hour and forty-five minutes to get to work. She dashed towards the door again, but didn’t rush out of it. There wouldn’t be a repeat of the two earlier events.

She opened the door. “I am sorry, but I must be off to work—“

“Oh, I do beg your pardon, Miss Finish—“

Finish froze, much against her own will. “Fancy Pants? Wh-what brings you here?”

Fancy bowed to her. “I am here on business. Would you be willing to—good gracious, what happened to your muzzle—

“Long story,” Finish said quickly, stepping out of the way. “Would you like to take a moment to chat?”

Fancy nodded. “I would love to, my dear, thank you.” He stepped regally inside, and soon had a seat on one of the living room cushions. Finish didn’t mind the sudden intrusion; nopony turned down business from Fancy Pants (except for Princess Celestia, but that’s another story entirely).

“Would you like something to drink?” Finish offered.

“No, really, I must be brief about this.” He grinned. “Fleur will be upset if she finds me out for too long without her.” He motioned for her to sit, which she did shakily.

“Now,” he began, adjusting his monocle before speaking. “It has come to my attention that you’ve been asked to help with a photo shoot for a group of ponies of… er, um, different physical characteristics, shall we say?” Finish nodded. “This is becoming quite a concern for Fleur, who thinks that you might be taking attention and work that could be used on her photo shoot.

“I’m not one to dictate how a pony runs her or his business, and I certainly don’t object to a group of… larger ponies wanting to have a photo shoot. What I am addressing is that for somepony who deals with regular-sized ponies, I imagine it’s rather awkward for you.”

Finish wanted to say “Not at all,” but the words wouldn’t come out. She continued to listen.

“Now, I did some research speaking with the pony who will be presiding over the shoot, and he told me that all he needs is photography equipment. I can help provide equipment for the photo shoot; I know a few other cameraponies and camera stores who can give the ponies what they need.”

Finish’s gaze was levelled at him, though behind the goggles he wouldn’t be able to know.

“And I will be willing to pay you extra for the extra time,” Fancy said with a smile. “I know you’re a busy mare, and it would mean a lot to Fleur and myself if you would give our little project special attention.”

Finish nearly snorted, and it took all of her effort not to.

“How does that sound?”

How does that sound? So far, I have a mare that wants me to be at the shoot, another that doesn’t. A third that just wants to equipment, and now you’re telling me you don’t want me to provide the equipment for them? This is too much, I can’t think straight!

“I will consider it.”

Fancy frowned. “Is that all?”

“Unfortunately, that is all that I am willing to give to you at this time. My business is very important to me, and I can’t just give up a client like that.” She knew those words were lies, and Fancy, as an astute businesspony, wouldn’t understand the reasoning. She was just hoping to Celestia that he would accept the explanation. “I assure you that Fleur will receive my full attention.”

That brought his smile back. “I know you will. I am just trying to make everything easier on you, and not upset Fleur. I hope you understand.”

“I understand.” I just don’t understand why Fleur’s so insistent on keeping me away from them.

“Then I shall check up on you in the near future, awaiting your decision.” Fancy Pants rose form the cushion. “Thank you for seeing me in such short notice. Enjoy your day!”

Finish rose with a confused look. “Th-thank you, Fancy Pants. Your time is always appreciated.” Enjoy my day? What is he on about?

She didn’t even notice that he had let himself out, the door closing firmly.

Okay, no more visitors, I must be off to work! She opened the door, and found Fancy Pants stepped to the side right in front of it.

“It has been a long time, hasn’t it, Duffle Bag?”

No, not him!

“Yes, it has! Let’s catch up some other time, shall we? I have some business with Miss Finish here.”

“Yes, I have just concluded business with her. Have yourself a good day."

“You as well.”

The stallions parted, and Duffle turned to look at her.

“Good afternoon, Mister Duffle Bag—“

“Darling, it’s morning, and early morning at that.”

She blinked and shook her head. She noticed that, despite the funny jab, Duffle wasn’t smiling. His expression was blank. “Oh, so it is.”

“Anyway, I need to talk to you about Fanny and her girls.”

Her stomach lurched. Oh my stars, what now?

“May I come in?”

Resigned, she let him in. He took a seat exactly where Fancy Pants had, and Finish took a seat where she had sat before.

“I’ve come here because Fanny Pancake is a dear, dear friend of mine.” Before Finish could comment, he quickly continued. “I’ve known her for a long time, and she and I are close. I would do anything for her and her friends, which is why I’m here.

“I noticed that everypony yesterday was acting oddly around you, and that you and Fanny weren’t the closest of mares.”

So I did do something to offend her.

“I am here to firmly tell you not to mess with her, or any of her friends.”

Finish blinked, and failed to suppress a gasp. “Do you really think that I would hurt them?”

He regarded her with a grimace. “I don’t know. You are, after all, a mare of high class and dignity; who’s to say that you view these ponies as beneath you, simply because they have a few hundred pounds more weight on them than you have?”

She shook her head. “I assure you, Duffle Bag, that you have nothing to worry about. I have nothing but respect for them—“

“Your actions speak otherwise.”

She had had enough of this nonsense. “Which actions?”

“How brusque you are with them; how you wouldn’t allow Fanny to indulge herself, for one day of the year she comes to me; how you didn’t chat at all with Black Forest, or Dark, or French, or even your own employee Coco Pommel, who’s a sweet girl once you get to know her. You may be invested in their business, Finish, but I can’t let you treat them so… so curtly, if you will.”

Finish nodded. “So you wish for me to…” She actually couldn’t figure it out; her blood was boiling too much to think straight.

“I wish for you to be less uptight around them. If you do have nothing but respect for them, then be friendlier to them!” His tone changed, from one of commanding to one of urging. “They are nice, once you get to know them, and when you’re at the shoot—“

“I—iiiii—“ She didn’t finish the word “If.”

“—Just be more genial. These aren’t your strict models you work with on a daily basis. Please try and be friendlier.”

She nodded eagerly. “I can do that.”

“Especially around French Vanilla. She’s a shy, sweet young lady, and you’ve probably scared her to death with your presence alone.” He didn’t say this jokingly.

“I understand.”

“Good.” He rose with a spring in his knees. “Because if I find out that you’ve hurt any of them, I will hunt you down.”

She nodded, outwardly patient but inwardly seething. She didn’t rise as he walked out and slammed the door shut.

Stay away from them, don’t provide them cameras, be closer to them, be nice to French… What in Celestia’s name is happening?

And why didn’t he ask you about your muzzle?

I don’t know. Maybe he got some schadenfreude out of my pain. She looked at her clock again: she now only had an hour and a half to get to work. “Please, let there be no more visitors outside!”

She trotted to her door, hoping that she could get to work. Even with only ninety minutes to set up, she would at least be in a familiar setting. “Please let there be nopony there,” she squeaked as she opened the door.

No such luck.

“Oh, good morning, Dark Chocolate,” she said, her head beginning to ache. “How may I help you?” She couldn’t think of anypony else that could come and visit her, unless paparazzi started to swarm in, and interviewers came and took over her house.

“Hello,” Dark said briskly. “May I come in?”

“I am so sorry,” Finish said, closing the door behind her. “But I am severely late for work, and I must be off.” She dashed around Dark.

Or at least tried to; Dark stepped back in front of her. “Then let me make this brief: stay away from French Vanilla.”

Finish blinked. “Excuse me?”

Dark’s eyes narrowed like daggers. “You heard me. I had to hold my sweetheart while she told me how nervous she felt around you, how she felt like you were judging her and going to talk about her to your friends. She couldn’t even get any writing done because of it! Did you even know that she was an author?”

Finish blinked. “She is?”

“Ever heard of the Memory Lane series?”

She gasped. “I have, I really like those books! All of the sights and sounds and smells, all of the places and various different cultures of ponies, they are very evocative books!”

“I know,” Dark said, her tone never relaxing. “I know, I helped her edit them when she was feeling down about herself. And she couldn’t begin the next one last night because ponies like you made her nervous as a clam!”

“I apologize—“

“I know you’re not doing it intentionally, but I can’t have my love like that. And, to be honest, I don’t know enough about you to say you won’t turn on her. So, for the sake of everypony, stay away from her.”

“Okay.”

Wait, why did you say that?

I don’t know.

After the talk with Black Forest and Duffle Bag?

I just wanted to make her happy.

And yet you made everything worse.

“I’m glad we understand.” Dark gave a bow and a tiny smile. “Good day to you, Photo Finish.” With that, Dark turned on her heels and walked away. Finish was in too much shock to admire Dark’s prodigious rump, one much larger than French’s.

This is all wrong.

Why is it all happening now?

And why am I so hated?

Get to work. Everything should calm down when you get there.

“Right. Do not stop for any more ponies, just go straight to—“

“Miss Finish?"

“GAH!” She hadn’t even noticed Coco Pommel next to her. She fell to the floor, hitting her back and beginning the ache in her muzzle and head all over again. Still, she lay there frozen, staring at Coco. She knew that Coco had become wider overnight; the chocolate binge and whatever her dinner was had had a greater effect on her.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to frighten you, are you alright?” Without waiting for an answer, she set her cup of coffee down and helped Finish up to her hooves.

“Hrm, I have never been better,” Finish grumbled.

“I’m sorry.”

Finish shook her head. “Do not be. I am already late—“ She glared at Coco. “Why are you not at work?”

Coco raised a brow. “At work?”

“JA! At work, where you work, for me, where I work, for money, doing work!?” Finish rubbed her head. “I am super late, and you will be late too, if you dillydally around here.”

“Miss Finish, today’s Sunday.”

Finish’s blood froze. “Vat?”

“It’s Sunday. There’s no work today… Unless I missed a memo saying we were supposed to work today and oh my stars, please tell me I didn’t miss them memo…”

Coco continued worrywarting, but it ran by Finish, who stood stunned. It was Sunday, she finally remembered, and there was no work to be had that day. Slowly, her muscles turned to jelly, and her legs began to lower.

“No, Coco, there is no work today,” she croaked as she fell to the ground.

“Miss Finish, please wake up.”

Slowly, her senses returned to her. She was on her couch, underneath a blanket. Her dress was hanging on her armchair across from her. Her muzzle throbbed with a dull pain, but she noticed that she could smell again; instantly, she knew that there was a bowl of stew next to her. Another aroma wafted its way to her nostrils, and it was familiar enough to make her sit up.

“Is that coffee?” she asked aloud to herself.

“Yes, Miss Finish, exactly the way you like it.”

Finish’s eyes darted to the mare who spoke. Coco stood there next to the couch, with a relieved look on her face. Finish’s eyes hadn’t deceived her; Coco had indeed gained weight since the last time she had seen her. Her stomach was round as if bloated, but it was soft. It reached down to her knees. Her chest, too, dipped low and pressed against her forelegs, which themselves had thickened up enough to jiggle on their own. Her neck was plumper, her collar loosened up from normal just to stay on, and her cheeks were large enough to create dimples around her face.

Finish felt her nethers burning, aching for her.

No, I want the madness to stop.

You want to rest. Still, you want her.

I do.

“The way I like it?” she asked with a quiet voice.

Coco nodded and blushed. “I, um, took the time to learn how you like your coffee, so that if you needed it, I could get it for you. You had all of the ingredients in your kitchen, so I made some. I hope it helps.”

She took the cup and sipped it. Perfect bitterness, perfect sweetness, perfect temperature. “It is perfect. Thank you.”

“Of course.” Coco pointed to the bowl of stew. “I heard your stomach rumbling, and thought that some leftover stew should help.”

So she doesn’t know about this morning. Finish picked her spoon up and took a large mouthful of potato and carrots. It was slightly cold, but she didn’t care.

“What happened to your muzzle?”

Finish chuckled. “I was in a hurry, and ran into the door.”

Coco gasped. “Are you okay?”

“I am fine.”

Another mouthful, and she noticed Coco scuff the floor, wondering what she was thinking. Oh well, she’s here now, and everything else is crazy. I might as well take a chance. Finish rose up and patted the seat next to her.

Coco was still blushing as she walked around, and Finish could get a view of her flank. It was definitely thicker than yesterday, her cutie mark bobbing up and down like a ball when she walked. Her flank nearly obscured her dock, from how high it rose. Finish continued admiring as Coco sat down next to her, and continued watching as it sank into the couch cushion and partially ate the blanket that got trapped under it.

The couch made a faint squeak as she sat down. That is pathetic; it’s not enough. It seemed to be enough to fluster Coco, who reached down to pull the blanket corner out of under her. Before she could, Finish spoke up.

“You have gained weight.” It felt natural to say.

Coco’s blush intensified as she shrunk into herself—as much as her body would allow. “I-I know. I’m sorry.”

No, don’t be.

“I know. It’s for business, right?”

Wait, did I say that out loud?

“Well—“

“It’s okay, Photo Finish,” Coco continued with a resigned tone. “I know why this is happening. I just… I have been having trouble controlling my appetite, especially when there’s someplace new to try out. I’ve been trying, though, because I don’t think you want somepony really really big to work for you.

Please stop berating yourself.

“I’m not berating myself, I’m just acknowledging what’s happening.”

Damnit, muzzle, be quiet!

Coco patted her stomach softly. “I’m just worried that it might be getting out of control, you know? I mean I don’t mind doing it for business—“

Wait, really?

“But I don’t want it to go too far. I know you have your standards.”

Yes, and you’re not meeting them!

“So I came here to ask… should I start losing weight?”

Finish finally blinked. “What?”

Coco didn’t look up, and her voice grew quieter. “I don’t want to embarrass you, and I don’t think that you want somepony that’s too big working for you. So do you want me to lose weight?”

Finish felt herself going lightheaded again. No no no, why is she bringing this up now? After all of the work that I’ve done with her, she can’t be thinking about giving it up now! Why, why now? Why, when she’s the biggest she’s ever been?

“Has somepony made fun of you?” Finish barked.

Coco flinched. “Um… well, not too many ponies—“

“Ignore them,” Finish continued with a shaky voice. “Ignore them and do what you want to do.”

“But what about work—“

“You are doing a fine job, Coco,” Finish said, leaning in closer. “Please stop fretting.”

“I’m trying,” Coco said, her voice on the verge of crying. What is going on? “But you always seem so flustered, and I don’t want it to be because I’m getting bigger and bigger and bigger—“

Stop, I can’t take it!

“And you’re just trying to be nice to me, when I should be mature enough to—“

Photo Finish had had enough. She leaned forward all the way, knocking the blanket off of her in the process, and wrapped her hooves around Coco’s neck.

For a while, everything was silent. Coco’s voice had quieted, and Finish’s had stopped completely. Finish sunk into Coco’s stomach fat, while her face pressed against the other’s fat cheek. In that instant, her body heated up, and her nethers burned for the mare she was clinging on to.

Then, slowly, Coco’s forelegs wrapped around her’s body, and her cheek began nuzzling Finish. Finish’s heartbeat quickened, while her nethers ached from desire. Her hooves drifted down Coco’s back, trying to reach down as far as she could.

This is actually happening?

Yes, it is.

We should take as much advantage over this as we could.

Yes, she wants it. She wants me, and— Finish froze. Wait, I don’t even know that. She may just be hugging me to be a good friend.

What would make you think that?

I hugged her first!

So?

So, I’m in this situation.

And

And-and-and-and-and—

Slowly, Finish let go. “I am sorry.” When she looked back up, she found Coco blushing.

“No, it’s okay. I needed it. Thank you.”

Finish’s voice caught in her throat. “I have just gone through a lot today, and I feel stressed.”

“Oh.” Coco’s voice dropped. “Well, do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about it?”

“Yeah,” Coco replied with a more upbeat attitude. “Like friends.”

Friends? Finish’s hooves jittered in place. “No thank you. I think that I will try and do this on my own.”

“Oh.” Another voice drop. “Okay then.” She rose. “I think that I should go now.”

Finish didn’t try and stop her; her insides were boiling, and she didn’t know why. “Okay. Have a good day.”

“You do the same.” Coco stood still for a moment, the blush slowly going away. Then she began walking out.

Meanwhile, Finish sat there, stunned. That was my one moment, and I… I don’t think it went as badly as it could’ve. It could’ve gone better, though. I need to work on my schmoozing— Her stomach lurched. Ach! What is going on?

“Miss Finish?”

She turned. “Yes?”

Coco scuffed the ground once more before speaking up, her eyes full of determination. “If you ever need anypony to talk to, you could always come over to my apartment, or call me here, and we can talk, okay?”

Her heart lurched. “O-okay.” Coco turned to leave, but she couldn’t allow that to happen. “Coco?”

“Yes?”

Finish’s voice kept getting caught as she spoke. “If you need anypony to talk to, come over here, or talk to me at work, okay?”

Coco smiled. “Okay.” That caused Finish to smile. And then Coco left, and the door closed softly behind her.

Finish didn’t know how long she sat there. At length, she finished the bowl of stew and the cup of coffee, perfectly made by Coco. That is an amazing mare. I must have her.

But what about this paparazzi?

To Tartarus with him! Or her! I’m Photo Finish, and I am not easily conquered!

Except by Coco.

The thought didn’t finish, as there was a knock at the door. Finish didn’t even complain as she got up to see who it was. It didn’t even surprise her to see who it was.

“Good afternoon, Pins,” she croaked, suddenly realizing she needed water.

The pegasus blinked in surprise. “Afternoon? Photo Finish, what have you been doing all day?”

Everything came back to her in a haze. “It has been a rough aftern—morning.”

“I can tell,” Pins said with a shake of her head. “Do you want to get a drink and talk about it?”

Talk about it… Finish found herself nodding. “That would be nice. Just let me get my dress.” If there’s anypony that I can confide in, it’s Pins… and soon, Coco. She threw on her dress, leaving the bowl and cup on the coffee table, and left with Pins and a heavy mind.