It had been two weeks since Photo Finish had spied on Coco and Fanny Pancake, and things had only grown since then. Her knowledge of Fanny Pancake and Black Forest Cake, whom she had met later that week, had grown, along with her appreciation for both of them. Her reputation with Fleur de Lys had grown, to the point where Fleur took every opportunity to talk about how much she loved Finish’s work and how everypony who was anypony got a picture with her. Her tension at work grew, as her involvement with the Blubber Lovers increased, and she had to do more than she had ever thought to keep her secret away from other ponies.

And Coco Pommel herself had grown.

Gone was the “petite” chubbiness that she had started work with. Now, instead of chubby cheeks, they were now tubby and full, lightly pressing against her eyelids. Instead of the slightly thick neck, her neck now had two rolls in it, and it shook visibly whenever she turned her head. Instead of the little breast she had possessed, it now stuck out evenly with her muzzle. Instead of the slightly chunky legs she had sported, her forelegs now bulged past her knees, drooping down just barely over the top of them, producing slight wrinkles. Her back also had a few rolls on it.

Further back, instead of the pot-belly she had begun with, she now had a globe underneath her. It bobbed and swayed whenever she moved around, and stuck out like she was expecting a foal when she sat down. When she worked, it would press up against the table, forcing her to maneuver it either above or below the table. It was obvious that Coco was a belly mare, but her rump wasn’t anything to laugh at either. Each cheek was thick enough to be able to rest a stallion’s head on it (or so Finish imagined). Her flanks were even keel with her belly in terms of width, and her cutie mark was only slightly smaller than a pony’s hoof. Even her dock had thickened up with fat, as Finish noted one day upon close—in the guise of professional—inspection.

Her growth was not a surprise, as she had continued hanging out with Fanny and Black Forest during her times out. Finish didn’t pry into the matter; she didn’t want to show that she had any interest in it, even though it would be heavenly to see who she would eat with, talk about her weight, show off her flab and bulges, compare, rub up against, fondle, rub, kiss, lick—

She shook her head, lowering her tail before anypony else saw her, and continued on her way towards the seamstresses’ table. Coco was, as usual, busy at her table, while Pins N’ Needles worked as deftly as before. An aqua dress for the next model was near completion, with only adornments to finish it off. Coco, meanwhile, was working on Fleur’s dress. They had all agreed on a coral pink for her—upon Coco’s squeak of a suggestion—with a simple transparent fabric and seashells as baubles and ornaments. She was currently working on multiple ponyquins, considering various designs and styles. As she went around, Finish couldn’t help but stare at Coco’s eyes, intently eyeing her ponyquins as if she wanted to devour it whole.

“You just never stop being hungry, don’t you?”

Coco turned in confusion. “Excuse me, Miss Finish?”

“You just never stop being hungry.” She stepped towards her and lifted up the fabric. “You are always aiming for the next highest thing, trying for perfection. I lo-like that about you, Miss Pommel.”

The bashful mare blushed in embarrassment. “Th-thank you, Miss Finish. Truth be told, I had a lot of help from Pins.”

“It is true, of course,” Pins added bluntly, though with a smirk. “I had to tell her to actually assemble the designs out so it would stop staying in her head.”

“Excellent.” She circled around the ponyquins one by one. Most of the dresses were flashy and aristocratic. “Miss Pommel, which one do you think Fleur will appreciate the most?”

Coco stammered. “Um, I don’t know, Miss Finish.”

“Which one would you pick?”

Coco thought for a moment, and then picked one where the fabric was thick, the trimmings complicated, and it was covered in sequins. “This one would probably be up to Fleur’s liking, since it has all of these sequins, and the patterns are something that royalty would wear.”

“But would it be something a Bitalian would wear?”

Coco grimaced. “I wouldn’t say so, to be honest.” She doubled. “I didn’t mean that it’s a bad dress! Only that it’s perhaps too elegant for a normal dinner. N-not that we don’t want it to be elegant, or that elegance is bad, but—”

“We must have some elegance for Miss Fleur,” Finish said firmly. “But we must not overdo it. This is supposed to be a pleasant dinner, after all.” She walked among them some more, and then her eyes fell on one that had a few seashell adornments.

“Oh!” Coco blurted out, stepping in between Finish and the dress. “This was just something I was playing around with, something I thought would fit the mood. It’s nothing really.”

Finish had only heard part of it. Coco’s flank was right in front of her face, and it was jiggling. Actually jiggling!

“M-Miss Finish?”

Finish laid a hoof on it. It was soft, yet firm. “Miss Pommel, let me see it.”

Coco reluctantly moved, and Finish got a better look at it. The trimmings were nowhere near as complex, but they were smooth and accentuating. The seashells didn’t stand out, yet added a flair of their own. It seemed like something a modest pony with a lot of wealth would wear near the beach. “Why are you trying to hide it?”

Coco rubbed the back of her neck. “Erm, just because it wasn’t as… fancy.”

“You mean not as flashy.” Finish traced a hoof around her flank. “It is still good ponywork. It’s just more reserved than that other dress.” A dress that Fleur will probably pick, she thought with a twinge of disappointment.

“Yeah,” Coco said quietly in response. “I, um, think you should go with the flashier one. Because, um, Fleur would look better in it.”

“Are you sure?” Finish stared down at her, who had taken a submissive stance, her barrel nearly brushing and squishing against the floor.

“Well…”

“I disagree.” Pins N’ Needles didn’t look up from her work when she butted in. “She would look better in the modest dress.”

Coco blushed. “You really think so?”

“I believe it is at least worth setting aside for her to try on.” Finish took the dress and walked it over to a vacant coatrack. “It will be useful if Fleur is not into sequins.”

She and Pins shared a laugh, while Coco chuckled, obviously embarrassed. Finish looked at her smile, at the dimples they created. She began feeling that all-to-now-familiar sensation of heating up. “We will discuss this more during lunch, ja? We could go to—“

Coco looked down shyly. “Um, I appreciate that, but I’m actually going to skip lunch.”

“What do you mean?” Finish looked to Pins for any signs of understanding, but the other mare hadn’t budged.

“I’m not really hungry and…” She trailed off.

Finish’s mind went white. Why is this happening? She obviously is self-conscious about her weight now! “Did somepony say something to you?”

“Oh, no!” Coco waved her forehooves about, her hindlegs quivering to hold her weight up. “Nothing like that. It’s just, well…” She looked back at herself, shifting her flank to get a better look at the blubbery mass. Finish pretended to look with her, but she was really looking upon her, getting ready mentally to pounce.

“You cannot expect to work on an empty stomach, do you?” Finish leaned in, patting her on the back. The rolls on her back were developing nicely, not yet rolls, but rather small bumps. She didn’t know whether Coco noticed that Finish lightly moved these bumps around, entranced at their softness.

“It’s not exactly empty. I… I ate a little while ago.”

Finish stopped to think. Coco had just told a lie; she hadn’t eaten, Finish had watched her like a hawk all day. “Right,” she said with her degree of professionalism, and some restraint. “I will not push it anymore, then.”

“Push, Miss Finish?”

“Don’t worry about it.” It had been Pins who had said that, and she pointed to the rest of the dresses she was working on. “Let’s just get back to work.”

Coco looked between Photo Finish and Pins for a few seconds, and when neither of them responded, she merely nodded and turned. “Yes, Miss Needles.”

An hour passed with Finish trying to tell everypony what to do, and how to set up for the next model, but her mind simply wasn’t there anymore. Every time she would say something, which she said in a haze, she would turn back and steal a glance at Coco working. She was still diligent, and not in the least bit sweaty; Pins N’ Needles was the unknowing cause of that, putting a fan above them to keep them cool. Coco’s belly often pressed up against the extended hoof on the ponyquin, as she stood to make an adjustment to it. Finish would see how much her belly gave to the ponyquin, and would feel a tinge of jealousy within herself.

And then there were the moments when Coco would turn, not realizing how much more of her there was, and her rump would knock against the ponyquin’s forehoof. She’d look back at it to ask for more… or, Finish corrected herself, to see if the ponyquin would fall. The ponyquin didn’t have enough weight in it to make that beautiful backside jiggle, and Finish would often feel disappointed. And then Coco would look at her, and shyly and shamefully return to her work, and Finish would turn with the utmost reluctance back to her task.

I just don’t understand it. What could’ve made her change her behavior so rapidly? Why is she lying to me now? She thought about reprimanding her, but she didn’t want to lose Coco. She couldn’t risk it.

And then there was the matter with Pins. Finish had, a few times, turned to look back at Coco, and would catch Pins looking at her. It was a slight glance, but enough to set her head turning back to her work. And then she’d look back again, realizing how her looking away made her seem suspicious. And then she’d look away again when she’d catch Pins staring at her once more. Her neck had begun to ache from how much she had done this.

The hour passed, and the scene and equipment for the model had been finalized. The model arrived shortly afterwards, a tall, slender light-blue unicorn mare whose form would be the envy of stallions everywhere. Finish went to greet the mare herself.

“Hallo, Blue Belle,” Finish greeted with her trademark enthusiasm, though noting with a dry throat. “Are you ready for your big shot?”

“Of course!” Blue Belle said with typical aristocratic grace. “I’m very excited to finally get a photograph from the great Photo Finish.”

“Yes, yes, well,” Finish said, invisibly swelling up with pride. “The honor is ours. You will be outstanding. Your body is so skinny and—“ She froze. Skinny? Is that the word you really wanted to use?

Blue Belle didn’t pick up on the word usage; she visibly swelled with pride. “I try and maintain my figure. So many ponies live their lives with a normal body, when they can be as svelte as I am.”

“Yes, but—“ Finish stopped herself. “Yes, it is most certainly excellent.” She beckoned for the mare to follow. “We have everything set up here, Miss Belle. We will just need to do some make-up, and you will be ready to go.”

“Excellent!” Blue Belle followed behind, calmly taking in the studio’s details. “Where’s my dress? I’ve been dying to seem the dress you’ve made for me!”

“Yes, dress, a very small-I mean svelte dress.” Finish shook her head, hoping to clear it of whatever it was that was causing all of those slipups. “Pins!” The pegasus turned her head, wordlessly waiting for instructions. “Bring Blue Belle’s dress!”

Pins nodded and walked to get it. Meanwhile, Finish continued guiding Blue Belle. “You will be the belle of the ball in it. Ravishing! Exquisite!”

Blue Belle nodded. “Your words intrigue me, I can’t wait—Ooh!” Blue Belle had turned to take a good look at it.

“As you can see,” Finish began, “We have spared no expense in making sure that this is perfect for you.” She turned to show her the dress. “Pins, explain to her—“

Her breath caught in her throat. Standing in front of her wasn’t Pins N’ Needles at all. It was Coco, holding the dress over her back. The dress bounced side to side on Coco’s back, as if grinding itself against the fatty fur. She felt herself going tense and weak at the same time.

“Sorry, Miss Finish,” Coco began with her characteristic nervousness. “Pins insisted that I come over here and show her the dress myself. But if you want me to go and get her instead, I can—“

Finish finally blinked, and regained control over her mouth. “No, it is fine. You will tell her about the dress.” Finish looked at Blue Belle, who had lifted up the dress in her magical grasp. “This is Coco Pommel, one of our seamstresses.”

The model looked over Coco, and her muzzle visibly crinkled up. “So tell me about it.”

Coco had begun pointing out the various details in it—the black trimming that would starkly contrast against her coat, the silky purple fabric that would drape over her and accentuate her lithe form, the broach that would bring out her eyes, should anypony look at it. Blue Belle appreciated the artwork, Finish could tell, but every time Coco would hold it up for her to consider, she would visibly back away. Finish immediately knew why, and before she even knew it, she acted.

“Miss Pommel here has done an amazing job here, has she not?” Finish picked up the dress and put it back onto Coco’s back. “She has a great handling of the needle and thread.”

Blue Belle immediately took it off of Coco’s back. “Yes, it’s lovely. I’d like to put it on as soon as possible.”

“Yes, that would be for the best.” Finish waved a hoof in the direction of the dressing room, and Blue Belle immediately hurried along, casting disapproving glances at Coco.

As soon as the model was in the dressing room, “Are you alright?”

Coco stammered. “Yes, Miss Finish. I-I’m sorry, I should have gotten Pins to give it to her.”

“It is nothing—“

“But she was so insistent, I swear!” Coco looked like she would begin to cry any moment now. “I asked her to take it, so I wouldn’t embarrass you—“

“Embarrass me—“

“But she insisted that I be the one to take it, and now that model is mad because of me, and—“

“ENOUGH!”

Everypony stared at her, shocked, while Coco shrunk again. Finish wanted to rest a comforting hoof on her withers, but was painfully aware of everypony’s judging eyes. She couldn’t let herself be discovered, no matter how much it hurt Coco this moment.

“You did a good job,” Finish said bluntly. “There is nothing to worry about. Continue with your work.” Coco didn’t move. “Now, Miss Pommel!”

Coco squeaked and scrambled away. Finish may’ve admired how her rump bounced as she scurried off, if she weren’t so frustrated. She looked back at Blue Belle, who had a grin on her face as she emerged wearing the dress. Keep it together, she told herself inwardly. Keep it together. Don’t say anything you will regret.

“I am sorry about that outburst, Miss Belle—“

“No worries at all,” Blue Belle said cheerfully. “Sometimes you just have to reproach your workers. Completely understandable. Completely…” the grin on her face turned into a leer. “Deserved.”

“Deserved?” Finish asked with more force than she would’ve liked. Fortunately, Blue Belle didn’t seem to notice.

“A pony of her size needs discipline. If she can’t control her stomach, she probably can’t control anything else, either.”

Finish’s face began to burn, and yet the looks on the make-up ponies’ faces told her to keep her muzzle shut on the matter. “We will—“ She gulped. “We will get your make-up over with, and then get the shot done.” As she said that, she reproached herself. That was what she would say when she had nothing nice to say! And she always had something nice to say to her clients!

“I can’t wait!” Blue Belle cried out with enthusiasm. Finish seethed, but couldn’t really blame her; it was her big day, after all. Instead, Finish made the motion for her make-up crew to turn the set-up around, so Blue Belle’s back was to the rest of the studio. Once that was done, she walked towards the catering table and grabbed a box of doughnuts. Without looking at anypony else, she went straight to the seamstress’ tables.

Once Coco saw the box, she began shaking her head. “Oh, no, Miss Finish, you don’t have to—“

A hoof cut the other mare off. “I must have my workers at their best.” Finish set the box down next to her. “And this is how we get the best from you. You are a good worker, Miss Pommel, and it would be a shame to have you not be at your best.”

Coco continued shaking her head. “I assure you, Miss Finish, I don’t need food to motivate me—“

“But it will help you focus.”

Coco continued shaking her head. Finish shoved the box into her belly, where it sank a few inches. She scrambled to think of some way to get Coco to eat. “Then… think of this as a reward. This is the first problem you have properly dealt with, and there will be more to come.”

Coco smacked her lips, opening the box and looking over the doughnuts. Finish watched her eyes as she looked over the ensemble. Instead of hunger and lust, though, there was careful consideration. Then, slowly, Coco reached down and took one into her mouth.

“Thunk yuf, Mith Finith.” Coco blushed and swallowed. “Thank you, Miss Finish.”

“Of course,” she said, her face easing up on the burn. “Eat as much as you wish, until you feel better.”

“Yeth, Mith Finith.”

Finish blanched inwardly. That wasn’t a tone of joy in her voice; it was one of submission, one of shame. She couldn’t think of anything else to do for her, so she turned instead to Pins. “How are the suits coming along?”

“They are coming along,” Pins said, a serious look on her face. “And if that hag Blue Belle reproaches my employee again—“

“Pins!” Finish’s mind scrambled to say something to her; Pins N’ Needles was a stubborn mare, who would do whatever she said she would do, without fanfare, but with proficiency and force. Best to deal with it before the words came out. “Coco is safe now—I mean fine now.” She groaned. “Isn’t that right, Miss Pommel?”

Coco nodded, her cheeks bulging from holding a maple bar.

“We are growing mares, Pins, we can take care of ourselves.”

Pins looked at her with bemusement.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Coco butted in. “Miss Finish, you said—“

“She said that we are grown mares, and we can take care of ourselves.” Pins continued with the suit she had been working on. “Snappy clients are just something we have to deal with in our job, Coco. You will get used to it. These things pass, and I’m sure she’ll appreciate the dress you’ve made for her.”

“Exactly.”

For the first time that day, Coco smiled. “You really think so?”

“It is how it has always been.” Coco turned to Pins. “Right?

“Right.” That would’ve been where it had ended, had Pins not punctuated her reply with a wink.

“What was that?”

“You know.”

“Know what?”

Pins cocked her head. “You don’t know?”

“No. Do not play these games with me, Miss Needles!”

Pins chuckled and beckoned her closer. Finish leaned in, exasperated at how she was currently being treated.

“You say that we are growing mares, right?”

“Yes!” Finish hissed. “We are growing ma—“ She froze. Her eyes unsteadily went to Pins’, and she was glad that they were hidden behind her goggles, lest somepony see them bugging out. Pins nodded. “Grown mares, that is what I said.”

“And that is what I said,” Pins replied casually.

Finish was feeling flustered. “Just get back to work.”

“Of course, Photo.” Pins went on as if nothing had happened. Finish whirled around at Coco, who had nearly polished off the doughnuts. “Are you feeling better, Miss Pommel?”

“Yes, Miss Finish.” Coco stared at the last two doughnuts in the box.

“If you want them, finish them.”

Coco deliberated and then began poking her belly. She watched with rapt fascination as Coco stood on her hindlegs, poking and prodding her girth. It looked slightly bloated, though Finish guessed she wasn’t full yet.

Slowly, so as not to spook her—or let on anything to Pins—she walked over to the box and lifted up a doughnut. Coco stared at it like Finish had lifted it up magically, and slowly her muzzle opened. Finish eased it into her, watching out of the corner of her eye in case anypony were to watch the lewd thing she was currently doing. Nopony seemed to focus on them; they were all busy getting everything set up for Blue Belle. With a quiet breath, Finish continued feeding the doughnut to Coco.

Coco, meanwhile, ate it with her eyes closed. It surprised Finish that, even though she had polished off ten doughnuts already, she could still be lost in the taste of the eleventh. That one was devoured, and when Finish held up the final, jelly-filled doughnut to her, she leaned in to take it into her maw.

Finish nearly shoved it in, and let her hoof linger there as Coco chewed it. She didn’t know why; perhaps it was to make sure Coco ate it all, but she couldn’t tell for her. She watched Coco swallow, and was about to lower her hoof when Coco stuck her tongue out and began licking it.

Her heart lurched from the sudden realization of what she was doing. Her eyes darted to see if anypony was watching: nopony at all. She could tell that somepony in the background was looking for her, but her sight of him was blocked by Pins holding up the suit in just such as position as would block eye contact. She glared at Pins, who went about in her usual manner, before turning to Coco…

…Whose eyes bugged at the realization of what she had done. Before she could stammer anything out—before she could even get a sound out of her mouth—Finish inspected her hoof.

“I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I—“

“Thank you.”

Coco’s jaw locked. “Huh?”

“It’s clean,” she said as casually as though Coco had given her a spare bit. “Are you feeling better?”

Coco dumbly nodded.

“Do you need anything else? There may be some muffins left.”

Coco blinked, slowly coming back down to reality. She looked down at her belly, which hung over the table. “I-I don’t think so,” she said hoarsely.

“Okay then.” Finish lowered her hoof and prepared to lift the other one for cleaning, before realizing just how stupid of an idea that was. “Now, please get back to work.”

“Yes, Miss Finish.”

With that, Finish walked away from the seamstress, taking a lingering look at Coco’s belly, not hiding the smile that crept onto her face. Coco rested her forelegs on it, pressing down on it, testing its tautness. Finish would’ve admired longer had she not caught Pins staring at her. She walked away, and went straight to dealing with Blue Belle.

What the hay is wrong with me? Why am I acting like such a slut? Where has my professionalism gone!? She looked back at Coco, who had returned to work, and who couldn't avoid the ponyquin brushing its forehoof against her engorged stomach. Perhaps this is getting out of hoof.

The photo shoot went off without a hitch. Blue Belle turned into another model that would end up in her catalog, and with profuse thanks and excitement at having to keep the dress, she bounded off with aristocratic grace off to whatever it was she did. Everypony cleaned up and prepared to go on their lunch break, just as they had always done.

Finish looked over the pictures. They were all extraordinary pictures, and she commended herself on a job well done. Everything about it was as she liked it: perfect. With a satisfied nod, she set them down in her folder and, giving the studio a once-over to see that everything was now in its proper place, freed everypony to lunch.

At lunch, it was common that nopony notice what Finish would do, as she had a habit of lingering there and triple-checking everything. That afforded her some time to look at Coco. The mare at made a few suits, two at most, but that was on pace with their schedule, so everything was good. Pins had finished three, which was even better. Coco had put her equipment away and was about to walk away when she turned, and knocked the ponyquin over.

Finish could only laugh inwardly at the sight, which she immediately found odd. IF somepony else had done that, she would’ve told the pony to pick it up and be on their way, and not be such a clumsy sod. But not Coco. Her flank had slapped against the ponyquin’s side, so it was obviously the ponyquin’s job. It just wanted some of the action.

Photo Finish, what the hay are you on about?

“I don’t know anymore.”

“Don’t know what?”

Finish shook her head, and suddenly everything became clear. Coco was near her, with her saddlebag strapped tightly around her, and Finish must’ve said that out loud.

“I was talking to myself.”

“Oh, okay.”

That was a gift that Finish possessed: the ability to explain oddities with her simply being Photo Finish. “You did an admirable job today, Miss Pommel.”

“Thank you,” she said meekly. “Although I should probably, you know…”

“Do what?”

She was about to mewl something out, but then somepony broke her concentration. “Oh, uh, nothing.”

“Miss Pommel, what is it?”

“No really, it’s nothing.”

“Tell me!”

“Hello, girls!”

Finish stiffened, and her head swiveled about to catch the sight of Fanny Pancake approaching them. Finish could’ve sworn that Fanny had gained some weight, though how she could tell that at all was something she couldn’t figure out. She reasoned that just because Fanny was so big, and so associated with food, it would make sense that she would continue gaining weight.

She shuddered at the thought. Maybe she’d stick around to see Fanny hit immobility.

“Hi, Fanny.” Coco waved excitedly, but then shrunk back considerably. Finish looked out of the corner of her goggles with confusion. What is going on with her?

“How’d it go at work today?” Fanny stopped right on front of them, much to the distaste of passersby, who had to step around her flank to continue their journey. Finish smiled, not just at seeing Fanny again, but at the thought of her mere existence and standing there caused ponies go have to move.

“It was excellent,” Finish said with an excited growl. Fanny raised a brow, while Coco gawked. “I mean, it was excellent.”

“Ain’t that the bees knees?” Fanny looked down at Coco. “And what about you, sweet pea? Everything good?”

“Oh, um, yes.” Her voice was soft, and she stared at the ground.

Fanny’s face took on a look off concern. “What’s wrong? Did somepony be mean to you?” Her eyes went between Coco and Finish; it made the photographer feel uneasy.

“No, it’s nothing.”

“Did somepony insult you?” Fanny stepped towards them a little bit.

“Not exactly. It’s nothing really, there’s nothing to worry about.” She looked up with a smile. “Nothing at all.”

Fanny raised a brow, but smiled as well. “If you say so, honeybun.” She gave a lingering look to Finish, who wilted slightly. “Hey, the girls and I are planning on going out and getting some chocolate. Well, a lot of chocolate for me, obviously,” she added with a guffaw. “Would you want to come along? I know how much you like chocolate!”

Finish made a mental note of that, and turned to Coco. Coco looked about, as if to avoid answering. She couldn’t take any more of the suspense. “Miss Pommel, are you still bothered by Blue Belle’s comment?”

“No, Miss Finish, I’m not,” she said quietly. Both of the other ponies knew that she was lying. “I… I don’t think I’ll be able to make it today, Fanny. I have… work to do.”

Finish’s face scrunched up. “You haven’t even eaten lunch yet—“

“I’ll see you some other time.” She nodded to Fanny, and then turned to Finish. “I will see you back at work.” Before Finish could say anything, she walked away.
Finish stood there for some time. Blue Belle must’ve gotten to her more than I thought.

Obviously. Do you think that now is a good time to tell Coco that she has to lose weight?

Because of what one pony said? It’s like Pins N’ Needles said: these sorts of ponies come by every so often, and we have to learn how to deal with them.

But being fat isn’t acceptable in Canterlot. You’re now seeing that she’s out of place.

I know…

“So what happened?”

Finish whirled around to see Fanny looming over her, her chest dangerously close to bumping into her. “Huh?”

“Why is Coco acting that way? Who hurt her?”

“Listen, it’s just business—“

“Did you hurt her?”

Finish gawked. “No, I did not. It was a client.” She slapped herself; she had just given confidential information, against her job regulations.

“Let me guess,” Fanny began indignantly. “Some skinny model came around and called Coco fat.”

Finish wanted to clarify, but what was there to clarify? She had summed it up succinctly. “Yes.”

“Mmhmm.” Fanny looked at the direction Coco walked away from. “Poor Coco. And did you stand up for her?”

“Of course,” Finish said with a huff. “I would not let anypony insult her.” Her heart began to race. Did I just commit myself to take care of her? What am I doing?
Whatever it was, it cheered Fanny up. “Good. She’s a good mare. She doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

“I agree.”

Fanny shook her head. “And I don’t know where she lives, so I wouldn’t be able to talk to her about it.” She sighed. “It must be tough, being even slightly chubby in Canterlot.”

Finish thought about that. She had called Coco slightly chubby, instead of outright fat. The more she thought about it, though, the more it made sense. She had only just recently begun to be immersed in the actual blubber lovers world, so Fanny would have a much better idea of what constituted fat and what constituted slightly chubby.

“Anyway,” Fanny continued with a sigh. “I actually came to see you.”

“You did?” Finish’s heartbeat quickened.

“Yeah.” Fanny’s face softened, and Finish could see signs of weariness. “The gist of it is, our camerapony’s equipment has work itself out, and we need a camera to shoot it with. I know you’re probably not somepony who likes to associate with obese mares and stallions, but we were wondering, if we paid you, if you wouldn’t mind letting us borrow some of your equipment.”

Finish’s heart quickened even more. Let Fanny Pancake, the greatest blubber lover, borrow her camera? “I’d be honored.”

Fanny gaped. “Excuse me?”

“I will let you borrow a camera, free of charge.” She nodded with determination. “Anypony who is a friend of Coco Pommel can borrow the camera for free.”
Fanny squealed in delight. “Ooh, you have just made my day!”

“And if you need anything else, let me know, and I will get it for you.”

Fanny wrapped her in a hug, her barrel enveloping the entire mare’s body. Finish felt the skin and fat sliding over her, enveloping her. She felt like she was in heaven. “Thank you so much! You have no idea how happy that makes me! I’m sure the others will appreciate it as well!”

“Others?” Photo could feel her heart pounding next to Fanny’s fleshy chest.

“Me and the others are a part of a monthly magazine,” Fanny explained, releasing Finish from her heavenly grasp. “We come by here once a year to take a group photo and celebrate ponies with… well, similar tastes.” She shook her body around for some sort of emphasis. “You understand, right? I mean, it’s not like I can hide myself.”

And we’d most certainly not want that. “I understand. I will help you with your photo shoot.”

“D’oh, I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“It would be no imposition.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” Finish felt her voice tremble with anticipation, and gulped to calm it down.

Fanny didn’t catch the subtle action, and instead beamed in satisfaction. “Thank you kindly, Photo Finish. It would be an honor.” She looked around. “Well, I must be off now. I’ve got to delegate with some of my other ponies.” She began her ponderous turn, but before completing it, she looked at Finish. “And, say, if you could perhaps talk with Coco about today… and maybe the shoot? I know you’re not a fan of larger ponies—“

Sweet Celestia, stop taunting me!

“But I think she’d look pretty in it. But if she’s too busy…” She didn’t finish it.

“I will talk to her about it.” She nodded. “But not before she is finished with her work.”

In an instant, she found herself shaking a mighty hoof with Fanny. “Of course! I wouldn’t dream of taking her away from her work! This is just for fun, you know!” Before Finish could stop shaking thin air, for Fanny had stopped, the large mare turned. “Well, see you some time in the future!” With that, Fanny began trundling down the road, her flanks almost hitting ponies who shuffled out of her way. Her flanks occasionally bumped against other ponies, but that only made her seem to walk prouder.

Finish sure hoped so. She watched Fanny walk off into the distance until she made a turn, and then turned around and began making her way to work. Something is definitely wrong with her, and I must set it right. She began trotting, looking for a place where she could pick up something for Coco to snack on while they talked.

Author's Note

The fetishy bits had to take a back seat to story in this chapter.