The buffet was packed with tourists from all over Equestria, and it was only with the charm of Fancy Pants that the four ponies were able to find a table. Getting their food was a lot easier: Fancy Pants ordered a hearty plate of fettuccine Alfredo, Fleur ordered a light salad, and Photo Finish got a cup of tomato juice—she didn’t like eating on business meetings. When it was time for Coco to order, she declined to get anything.

“Order something,” Finish told her.

Coco shook her head. “Oh no, that’s okay. I’m just here to help, that’s all.”

“Don’t be modest,” Fleur interjected sardonically. “We can’t have you helping us if your stomach’s growling all the time.”

Coco didn’t notice the tone. “I didn’t bring any money anyway, so—“

“What?” Finish lightly banged a hoof against the table. “How could you not have any money? You always need money in Canterlot!”

“I-I’m sorry. You had just rushed me to come with you, and I didn’t have a chance to get my purse.”

Finish sighed. “I will pay for you this time.”

“Oh, no, Miss Finish, you don’t have to—“

“We cannot have you working on an empty stomach,” she said shortly.

“But I had those donuts earlier—“

“Enough!” Finish practically pushed her out of her seat. “Go on, get whatever you want.” It took more effort than she had thought it would, but she suspected Coco’s growling stomach pushed the chubby mare out of her chair.

Next to them, the waitress watched with furrowed brow. “So—“

“She’ll have the all-you-can-eat buffet,” Finish ordered for her. Before the other mare could protest, she gave her a glare. Coco sighed and nodded.

“Yes, Miss Finish.”

Finish watched her sigh again, her bulging middle swelling with the air. Coco’s resignation made her feel… a sense of power, one she didn’t quite understand. Still, as Coco walked over to the table, slowly at first and then quicker as the allure of food took her, she didn’t mind any of it.

She turned back to the other two ponies. “I apologize for the difficulty. She is new.”

“No trouble at all!” Fancy Pants waved his hoof in dismissal. “Everypony starts out that way.”

“Yes,” Fleur added with irritation. “You’d think she’d be grateful that you’re feeding her. It must be hard maintaining that figure.”

Finish agreed absentmindedly, though she subconsciously looked over to see a round rump among normal ponies, and could see ladles of food being put onto the owner’s plate. Some ponies around Coco looked at the amount of food she intended to eat, and gave her some room as if she’d begin growing then and there. Finish would’ve found it adorable, if Coco hadn’t been acting so sheepish around them.

Her heart almost leapt when Coco turned and began walking back, only to sink as she saw the plate not anywhere close to being stacked high with food. Instead, there was a hill of fettuccine Alfredo, a hill of spaghetti with tomato sauce, greens, three bread rolls, and a mound of chocolate something that looked like whipped cream. The amount of food could have filled any one of the other ponies’ stomachs, even Fancy Pants’s larger-than-average appetite.

“That’s it?” Photo Finish and Fleur asked in unison.

Coco blushed. “Well, I couldn’t fit any more onto my plate, so…” She slowly set it down onto the table.

“You could’ve set that plate on your back,” Fleur offered with a smirk. “Then you could’ve gotten more.”

Coco didn’t say anything; she slowly lowered herself into her seat, quietly taking up a fork and beginning to dig into the fettuccine.

“Now then,” Fleur said with a sigh. “We have everypony here, so why don’t we discuss the shoot?”

“Yes.”

“Splendid!”

“Okay.”

“Great!” Fleur clapped her hooves together. “Now then, I was thinking of having it take place at a large chateau, with a beach in the background, to get those sorts of romantic shots you’d find in Bitaly.” Immediately, Coco began writing this down. “I, my husband and a few other high-profile ponies would be sitting around a round table with a brunch set out.”

“A good idea,” Fancy Pants chimed in. “After all, food would most certainly accentuate the mood of the picture.”

Finish listened with concern, this being the planning stages of a photo shoot that would have her name on it. “Would it not it be more beneficial to you if you were at the head of a long table? So you can be the head of the party?”

Fleur’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, that sounds excellent!” Coco wrote that down. “But… wouldn’t that lead to the camera being further away from me—or if you’re shooting close by, right behind me?”

Coco moved in with a statement of her own. “No offense, but could you really get an elegant shot from sitting at a dinner table?”

Finish looked down at Coco’s stomach resting on her thighs, and thought that somepony most certainly could.

“I’d imagine a shoot like this would be more for the atmosphere you bring to it, than on your physical form.” Before Fleur could throw a snappy comeback, she added, “I mean, you are clearly very elegant, and charming, and anypony would be lucky to dine with you.”

Fleur calmed down, though wasn’t as enthused about Coco’s statement as she was about Photo Finish’s. “Yes, they would.” As if to prove Coco’s point, she levitated a dainty bit of salad and slid it into her mouth with aristocratic grace.

“I agree!” Fancy Pants took a more hearty serving of his food. “Let us enjoy our food! We’re here to diversify our palates, after all.”

“And discuss the plans for the shoot,” Fleur added.

Finish nodded silently and took a few sips of her juice. Fleur went back and forth between eating and talking about the shoot, and Coco tried to write everything down. Her food remained untouched. Shortly into it, Coco’s stomach growled, and Finish took the opportunity to get things going.

“Eat something,” she said simply. When Coco hesitated, she pushed the notebook to rest within her own saddlebag. “Eat.”

Coco took a deep breath. It was a peculiar action to Finish, but as the other mare turned to her food, there was something in her eyes. A glint, perhaps? She couldn’t quite tell, but as Coco grabbed a fork and dug into the spaghetti, the signs of hunger became evident.

And then the eating began. The first slurps of noodles would’ve been called typical for anypony, perhaps a bit crass for Canterlot culture. Finish could tell, though, that the first slurp was desperate to get it in as quickly as possible. She could see the shifting bulges within her cheeks, as if her tongue was dancing around with the noodles and sauce. Each bite was quick, to break it down and get it in her belly. Her swallow made her neck bulge with effort, and she leaned her head back and closed her eyes when she did it. Finish imagined her submitting to the food as it slid inside of her.

The next few mouthfuls were more of the same, with a little less lingering and a little more hoovering it into her. Finish grabbed a bottle of parmesan from a nearby empty table and sprinkled some cheese onto the spaghetti. The next mouthful brought out an exhalation through Coco’s nostrils, like she was caught off guard with a new pleasure, like she needed to relax before she really lost herself to the eating.

Finish took another sip of her juice and looked at the other two. Fancy Pants was eating like a gentlecolt, mentioning his marvel at the fettuccine and complimenting Fleur on her ideas for the shoot. Fleur, on the other hoof, could be caught glancing and staring at Coco as she nibbled at her own food. The photo shoot was momentarily forgotten as the two aristocratic mares watched Coco gorge herself and quietly moan with every bite.

With the spaghetti completely devoured, she moved on to the fettuccine. Creamy sauce dripped from the fork as she delicately took a mouthful. Now she opened her eyes and widened her bites, to work the new flavor onto her tongue. She swallowed with the same gestures as the spaghetti, though with more control.

“I say, Miss Pommel,” Fancy Pants said, breaking the silence between the four. “Isn’t this fettuccine just the best?”

“Mmhmm!” she swallowed, and blushed. “It sure is. It’s so smooth, thick and creamy.” She got more excited with each word, and she took a large forkful and shoved it in. Fleur grimaced and Finish tensed as each of Coco’s chubby cheeks worked to break the pasta down. Fleur looked away as she swallowed, the bulge in her throat prominent. When she saw everypony else looking at her, she lowered her head. “Um, sorry. What were we talking about again?”

“Oh no, it’s okay,” Fleur said with haste and, perceptible only to Finish, frustration. “You keep on eating. Photo Finish and I will continue discussing the shoot.”

Coco looked embarrassed, but didn’t hesitate to continue eating.

“Now, where were we?” Fleur asked with an anxious clap of her hooves.

“We were discussing attire,” Finish replied without pause, taking yet another sip of her tomato juice.

“Oh, yes!” Fleur looked up in thought. “Of course, formal attire is a must. Tuxedos and white dresses for all the guests, and a red dress for me, of course.”

“A red dress would sound lovely,” Coco said with a gulp of a bread roll. “But won’t it be a bit monochromatic to just have everypony else in black and white?”

Fleur raised a brow. “Excuse me?”

“I could imagine a mare with a dazzling blue dress, or a stallion with a more casual shirt, to give the picture a more cozy, family-like look about it.”

“But that will detract from me,” Fleur said. “It would throw the picture off.”

As much as Photo Finish didn’t want to, she knew Fleur was right. “Coco, I understand where you are coming from, but it would make the shot imbalanced. Mixing formal attire with casual attire would not be a good mixture for something like this.”

“Oh, okay.” Coco quieted down.

Finish had to tell it to her straight; the seamstress had eyes for individual ponies in real time, while her job was to capture a single moment with a group of ponies this time, and had the eye for that single moment.

“I do like that idea,” Fancy Pants said reassuringly. “It’s just not what we need.”

“Yes,” Finish added. “You keep your ideas coming, ja?” She picked up a bread roll and offered it. “Here. Eat.”

Something glinted in Coco’s eyes, and Finish could clearly see her brow furrow. “Oh, um… o-okay.” She took the roll and ate it whole. “Thank you,” she said after swallowing. Quietly, she resumed cleaning up her plate.

The details for the shoot were discussed in a little bit more detail, and Finish wrote down the details herself. At times, though, she’d glance over to Coco, who had finished off the fettuccine, rolls and greens, and was working on the chocolate thing. Coco was being as dainty as Fleur was with her food, and watched the other ponies talk without making a mess.

As each bite went down her throat, Finish noticed that she was rubbing her belly. It was full and distended, she could tell, and Coco was, perhaps absentmindedly, tracing circles around it. The meal, as well as the donuts from earlier, were doing a number on her pudge, and she could tell that Coco was beginning to grow stuffed.

Finally, the soft serve was gone, and Coco set her spoon down, wiped her face with a napkin, and watched everypony else talk. She leaned back just a bit and made a show of placing a foreleg on the table, to conceal the other one rubbing her belly. Another detail went down about the shoot, and Fleur took a few more bites of her salad. Finish decided to take this time to talk to Coco.

“What was that?”

“Huh?”

“That chocolate think you were eating? Was it ice cream?”

“Oh, yes, it’s actually gelato. It comes from Bitaly. It’s a lot softer and richer than ice cream.” She shifted herself in the seat, causing a slight creak.

I imagine you will be softer and richer tonight, she thought, letting her mind drift off. “Will you get seconds?”

Coco blushed. “Oh, no, I think I’m done.”

“Are you sure?” Fleur asked, leering at her. “After all, we’re here to diversify our palates. Surely you haven’t tried everything there.”

A light went off in Photo Finish’s mind, and she couldn’t resist a smile. Fleur, you are a genius! The glint in Coco’s eyes, and the soft patting of her stomach, further fueled her fervor. “Yes, this is true. Go and get a second plate.”

“Oh my!” Coco shook her head. “I don’t want to take any more of your time.”

Finish had already thought of a counter. “What would you recommend for Fleur’s shot?” She pointed to the empty plate. “The spaghetti, or the fettuccine?”

Coco stammered. “Um… well, for her, or for the other ponies?”

“For Fleur.” She could see Fleur perk up, and stared at Coco.

“Well… I think the spaghetti would be better. I mean, it’ll stand out more, but I think it goes better with bread, and garlic bread would be a really good thing to include.”

“Way to go, giving food advice,” Fleur said, sounding genuinely pleased.

“But we must be sure,” Finish added almost hastily. “Go and get a second plate, and maybe even a third.”

“And more gelato,” Fleur added. “It does look rather appetizing, soft and thick, and I’d like to see the other flavors.”

Finish’s eye twitched.

“And we’ll get you some wine to try!” Fancy Pants added encouragingly.

She made a quick exhalation. Fancy Pants, oblivious as he was, had made a fine addition.

They all watched as Coco walked sluggishly over to the buffet table, her full belly encumbering her so slightly. The other two ponies began talking amongst themselves, Finish watched as Coco grabbed two more plates, and began dumping thing in order onto the first. After that one was loaded up with more sumptuous food, Coco rested it onto her back and threw more food upon the other plate. More and more went on, and once that one was full, Coco looked at the remaining food. After some waiting, she placed the second plate onto her rump and went for a third.

Finish watched in amazement as Coco went about putting the rest of the unsampled food upon the plate. The ponies around watched in amazement, some in obvious disgust, most in interest. Coco accidentally bumped into a few, and frantically apologized. A few ponies mumbled something, some talked among themselves. A few even said some things to Coco. She could only imagine what Coco was telling the ponies around her.

”Please excuse me.”

“Geez, do you have enough on your plate?”

“No, not yet. I’m sorry.”

“Look at your gut! It’s so big! How can you still be hungry?”

Coco shrunk. “I’m just gonna grab that croissant and be on my way.”

“Why wait to take it back to eat it? Here!” The stallion shoved a whole croissant in her mouth. She quietly ate it, eyes closed in bliss.

“Wow, look at this pig!” a mare said. She grabbed a heaping ladle of spaghetti and shoved it into Coco’s mouth. She mewled in surprise, but sucked it up anyway.

“Is there any end to your appetite?” the stallion asked, sinking his hooves into her belly.

Coco shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Why don’t we find out?” The mare almost maniacally shoved another ladle of spaghetti into her maw, and Coco tried slurping it up as fast as she could. The stallion grabbed whole wedges of cheese and shoved them in her spaghetti-filled mouth.

Some of the surrounding ponies eyed the three of them as Coco ate more and more. They gawked at how her belly grew to fit more food, how her cheeks and neck stretched out to have more food to handle, how her forelegs, flanks and rump blew up to better keep the piggy in place. A few of them joined in to stuff her face, and soon every pony at the buffet table was cramming sauce-laden pastas, long sandwiches, thick soups and food galore into her bulging throat. What was worse, as the waiters and waitresses witnessed the savage display, they decided that they would help her out by supplying more food.

Coco gave a feeble look back at Photo Finish, who watched transfixed. Her emotion was indecipherable, but soon after her gut pushed with brutish force against her fattening legs, she conceded defeat, plopped down on her rump with a slam—the copious flesh producing a grand slap against the tile—closed her eyes and opened her mouth for the onslaught of buffet food. Each mouthful pushed her stomach out further, made her sit higher on her massive rear, gave her face more cherubic roundness. The feeding mob poked at her middle, flank and neck, surprised that she could hold so much.

“She eats like a prize hog!”

“She’s as big as a heifer!”

“Almost as big as a whale!”

“Look at all of that soft fat. How could you let yourself go?” This particular mare, a waitress, slapped her foreleg hard against Coco’s middle, and everypony laughed as it shook like a tub of jello. “Your belly’s almost as big as a pony is!”

“And you just sit on your flabby flank, eating and eating and eating.” A waiter shoved a sandwich many feet long into her mouth, and laughed as she ate it inch by inch. “Can’t stop, just want food to fly into your greedy lips.”

Coco moaned as each bite caused her to bob back to swallow, and then forward to take in more. The sinister waiter and the helpless mare fell into a rhythm, the former sliding each part in inch by inch, the latter moving her head about trying to fit it in. The waiter had to step onto Coco’s growing belly to reach her mouth. And all the while, the other ponies shoved even more food into the sandwich, forcing her to grow even faster.

Her flanks pressed hard into the tables around her—the right one against a normal one, the left one against the buffet table, on the verge of tipping it over. Everypony gawked at the massive mare still growing, and fed her even more frantically.

“She’s about as large as a hippo!”

“She’s nearly eaten the entire buffet!”

“How much more can she hold?”

“Keep on eating, piggy!”

And Coco kept on eating.

“Eat! Eat! Eat!”

She did just that, eating away, oblivious—or, judging by the look on her face, proud—of the tipping buffet table. In an effort to save the food, the waiters and customers shoved Coco around, pushing her rump away from the buffet table, until she flopped on her stomach, legs dangling from her mass and her snout emerged in the food. She didn’t need encouragement or force anymore, she ate mechanically amid the cheering.

“Eat, eat, eat!”

Bigger, bigger,biggerBigger!

“Miss Finish?”

Photo Finish started and looked at the other two ponies. They were looking at her awkwardly. “I am fine. I just got distracted.”

“Hmm.” Fleur continued talking to Fancy Pants, and Finish emitted a long silent sigh. She looked back at Coco, and stiffened at what she saw.

There was the buffet table, and Coco was sprawled out on top of it, lying on her back. Her humongous body was covering all of it, her tubby head at one end, her vast rump hanging off the other side. Her flanks hung over each side, and did so more and more with each mouthful the customers shoved into her maw. Her legs dangled in the air, weighed down by bags of fat with hooves. Her belly, rose proudly like a hill in itself, and it pressed up against the glass covering of the buffet table.

The customers ran out of food, and the table creaked, bent and groaned under the weight the mare singlehandedly provided. Everypony laughed in amazement, prodded her girth, lifted and inspected every part of her, marveled at the sheer sight of her, and offered words of both derision and encouragement.

“You just couldn’t stop yourself, could you?”

“You ate the entire buffet.”

“Eat and eat and eat, you selfish hog, you.”

“Would our little elephant like dessert?” On cue, the waiters and waitressed pulled the dessert cart over, and everypony gasped and whispered, wondering if she could fit any more. “Come on, dear. You’re ate all of your dinner. You deserve a treat.”

Coco looked with ennui-glazed eyes at the slice of chocolate cake in front of her, and her gut rumbled with anticipation, shaking the glass covering her. When the waiter lowered it to her lips, she didn’t resist. The dessert was a lot slower, with each bite being forced in bit by bit. Coco had to really force the food down her throat, causing her body to bulge with each mouthful, and the table to creak more and more.

The glass panels began to crack above her, and her dome of a stomach began peeking out the top of the table. The crowd oohed, and one of the waiters smiled. He looked back at Finish. “Care for some dessert, my lady? That mare certainly wouldn’t mind.”

Before she knew it, she was being escorted to the table by the hoof of the waiter. Coco looked out with one eye at her, and blushed as her boss approached.

“Don’t be shy,” the waiter told the growing mare. “It’s not like you can do anything about it, after all.”

“Yes, nothing at all,” she chimed in.

“Miss Finish?”

”We have a delectable assortment,” one of the waitressed said, taking over. “You’ll see here that the first course is a pair of cheeks, stuffed to the brim with sweet things.” They both looked down at Coco’s tubby face, and the waitressed grabbed a bowl of whipped cream and crammed it into her cheeks. “Packed full, it is.”

For some reason, she restrained herself from taking a sample. The waitress wasn’t so reserved, and kissed Coco on the lips, taking some of the cream with her. Finish could only watch mesmerized as another kiss followed, this one on the cheek. Coco flushed.

“Down a little bit is her succulent neck,” the waitress continued. “As you can see, it’s working hard to make sure she’s well-fed.” She sucked on the neck, making Coco coo. Each bulge of food going through the neck sent more flesh into the waitresses’ mouth. They moved on after leaving a red mark on Coco’s neck.

“Down a little bit further, you’ll see that her forelegs are just so heavy, that not even we can move it.” Coco’s hooves twitched in vain. “They’re so big, they could probably envelop your whole body by themselves.”

Finish couldn’t imagine the thought of it.

“And as you can plainly see, her belly is just overflowing our buffet table!” As she said this, the top of the table burst off, dangling on Coco’s stomach as it continued reaching up, climbing towards the ceiling. “It’s struggling so hard to contain it.” Suddenly, the table collapsed, and Coco fell with a giant thud. Her belly shook with tidal force, but Coco seemed unfazed as more food was shoveled into her. “We’ve simply got too much to handle, but I hear you’re good at handling larger-than-life ponies.”

Finish was sweating, watching Coco’s belly continue to grow and spread out, her coat glistening like butter on rising dough.

“Down here, you’ve got your voluptuous flanks.” The waitress rested her body against it. “So soft and warm, you’d just want to—“ She threw her foreleg at it, and a loud slap echoed through the restaurant. Coco moaned as her flank quaked, and everypony gawked as her cutie mark, now larger than anypony there, continued to expand.

“And back here,” the waitress said slowly, “is dessert.”

Finish strode to the back and stared at the grand sight. Resting under Coco’s belly were the globes of fat that were her rump cheeks. They stretched out away from and above her, and reached out towards her, beckoning her to embrace them.

“The best thing about this,” the waitress said, grabbing one of her cheeks and moving it, as if moving a curtain to make way into a VIP room, “is it’s the chef’s mystery flavor. Why don’t you find out what’s inside?”

Coco moaned and mewled at the touch, and by the sound of it she was nearing her limits. Her stomach dwarfed the table top still resting on it, framing her belly button, and her rump bounced and sloshed up and down in anticipation. Finish looked deep within her rump, and began taking steps forward towards the cavernous crack.

“Yes,” she said almost breathlessly. “It’s mine. It’s all mine.”

“What’s all yours?”

Photo jumped in surprise. All three ponies, Coco included with three plates of food, were staring at her. She was lightly panting, and was slightly out of her seat.

Oh, no, she thought in a haze. I can’t just shake this one off. I need to come up with something.

“My, your—my vision!”

“Huh?” All three of them said in unison.

“My, vision, of you. I mean, I have you, such a beautiful, splendorous mare in my shoot, you will just make it come alive.”

Fleur was beaming. “Oh, did you hear that, Fancy? The greatest photographer in Equestria thinks I’m splendorous!” She squeed.

“Yes, yes, it’s wonderful!” Fancy Pants said nervously, trying to avoid Fleur’s excitedly flailing limbs. “Splendid, quite!” He saw a waiter walk over to them, and he provided a bag of bits for their bill. “Well, Miss Finish, Miss Pommel, we must be off now. We will meet up soon, right?”

“Yes yes,” Finish said, her heart beating quickly. “Come by the studio whenever you wish to check on the progress.”

“Quite right.” He nudged Fleur. “Honey, it’s time to go now.”

Fleur calmed down. “Oh, right!” She sprang up. “Thank you for your help, Photo Finish! We’ll meet up soon, okay?”

With a nod from her, the two affluent ponies took their leave. All the while, Coco had been silently eating her food.

“Have a seat across,” Finish said.

No explanation needed, Coco nudged her plates to her left, heaved herself from the seat and moved to the seat across from her. It creaked louder than the previous as she sat down on it. From that angle, Finish could see Coco’s belly, and it resembled an oversized volleyball. Coco’s breathing was slightly labored, but not enough to pin her down.

She also got a look at the food; there were paltry amounts of each. “Miss Pommel, are you sure you will get a good sample of each food item with that much?”

Coco popped a few raviolis in her mouth and nodded. “I’ve really eaten more than I should, so I only got a little bit of each. These raviolis are so delicious, but I don’t think they’d work in the shot.”

Finish grunted and watched Coco’s eating transform from a ritual into a labor. Each mouthful was chewed with half determination, half appreciation. She held her neck up longer to make sure the food went down, and breathed out with each swallow. She’d occasionally rub her swollen and swelling stomach, giving it a few pats to make sure it would hold.

She watched silently as one plate was finished, and then the next. The chair gave slight creaks, not enough to really sing for Finish to push her further. Coco had to lean back, though, which made eating take longer.

Each bite of the remaining food—mashed potatoes at that moment—caused her to heave her foreleg up, tilt her stomach up for leverage, making it stick proudly out, and drop it into her jaws, where she’d chew painstakingly slowly before swallowing, like she had just tossed a large sack into her gullet. Each bite would have laborious breaths follow.

“I--*hiccup*--don’t think I can handle anymore,” she groaned. Her face was puffed out, and her expression was one of fatigue.

Finish looked over the rest of the food: one more bite of mashed potatoes, two bites of macaroni, one mouthful of asparagus spears, and a single crouton left from her earlier greens. She saw the strained look on her face, but decided to push her luck anyway. “Miss Pommel, we must be thorough. We cannot leave any possibility unchecked.”

Coco winced as she tried to move, and looked down at the remaining food. With a few deep breaths—or as deep as she could muster—she nodded, and reached for the final bite of mashed potatoes.

Finish could see that her spoon wouldn’t reach, so she got up and took the spoon herself. “Here.” She shoved the spoon into Coco’s mouth.

She noticed that Coco’s muzzle wasn’t chewing, so she looked at her face to see what was wrong. The other mare’s eyes were staring at her, large and unwavering. This was only for a brief second, though, as once she did begin chewing, her eyes closed in resignation and concentration. Finish began scooping up the asparagus as Coco swallowed the potatoes, and groaned. Once the spears came into view, she finally surrendered.

With a moan, she collapsed onto the table, her neck sprawled next to all of the plates, her eyes closed, everything else turgid and unmoving. She moaned with being stuffed so much. Photo Finish watched for any signs that she could be encouraged to eat more, but there was none. She was defeated. The wine hadn’t been touched, and the gelato would have to wait. With an inward sigh, she set the spears down and pushed the plates aside.

“Okay, Miss Pommel.” Finish got ready to move the round mare. “You did good. We will go now.”

“Now?” Coco asked breathily.

“Yes.” Without another word, or waiting for consent, Finish placed her head against Coco’s side and began to push her up. Coco groaned as the force was applied, and she began tipping like a placid cow. Finish grunted as she heaved her out of her seat, not trying at all to be gentle. Coco’s stomach was solid and unyielding.

The chair groaned underneath them as its burden left it, and Coco’s hooves met the ground. She almost fell over from the momentum, but a quick hoof from Finish stopped her. “Come on,” she told her. “It is time to head back to work. We will finish up tomorrow.”

Coco only moaned in response. Her eyes were spinning in her head, and she could do nothing more than lean on her boss as they trudged out of the buffet.

Author's Note

Third Chapter out, with some actual overeating this time. Next chapter, another character will join this tale.