“I’m sorry I skipped your party.”
“Aaaaahhh!”
“Shhh!” “Quiet!”
Moon Dancer blushed slightly, even as the other library patrons turned away from her, back to their reading. With a quiet growl, she opened her own book back to the page that had made her scream a few seconds ago. It was a usual page from a very riveting account of the history of grain farming—with a line drawing of Princess Twilight what’s-her-face in the margin.
For the briefest moment, Moon Dancer wondered if what she saw had just been her imagination. But then the drawn Twilight shifted her hoof and looked straight at her.
“Why won't you leave me alone?” Moon Dancer whispered to the drawing. “I’m trying to study! You've got the wrong pony! I don't have parties!”
“You did once,” Twilight whispered back. “And I was so caught up in my own studying that I didn't take your feelings into account.”
Then Moon Dancer got an idea—a wicked idea, a fun idea. She knew then that she needed to get Twilight out of that book, before she acted on that idea. “Look, Twilight Twinkle—”
“Sparkle.”
“Whatever!” Moon Dancer’s cheeks lit up with another blush. She just hoped Twilight mistook it for embarrassment, and didn’t recognize it as a sign of her mental battle against temptation. “I just need to be alone so I can study without some crazy pony trying to make friends, all right?!”
“Fine!” Twilight Sparkle said. She turned away, becoming a profile drawing.
Moon Dancer sighed, wiping the sweat off her brow. But when she looked back at the page, Twilight was still there—giving Moon Dancer a sly and slightly expectant look.
Moon Dancer’s heart raced. She knew that she should bug Twilight to get out of the book, to stop tempting her. But when she opened her mouth, what came out instead was, “Wait. How did you get into my book like that?”
“I’ve been studying a new studying technique,” Twilight said, looking quite excited. “I can only do it for a few minutes, but you'd be amazed how much you can pick up when you're actually in a book!”
Only for a few minutes, Moon Dancer thought. Only for a few minutes! Perhaps it was the sudden imposition of a deadline, or perhaps it was the implicit reassurance that what happened next would not have any permanent effects. Whatever the reason, Twilight’s words accidentally battered down the last pieces of Moon Dancer’s inhibition. Moon Dancer slammed the book shut again, heedless of how much noise she made closing the tome. Before anypony else could shush her again, she teleported directly to her house.
———
Moon Dancer and the thick book popped back into existence inside her study. She rushed up to her pockmarked but sturdy desk, swept everything off it—stacks and stacks of books, scientific journals, and newspapers—and plopped her library book atop it. She closed the curtains over every window in the room. She darted downstairs to confirm that her front door was locked, and she locked the study door behind her as she re-entered. Then she grabbed a bundle of freshly-sharpened pencils.
Trembling with anticipation, Moon Dancer approached her desk and the wonderful, awful book resting atop it. She paused as her hoof touched the cover. To do what she wanted next, she would need to act quickly.
She flung the book open, then four pencils in her telekinetic grip danced across the page.
Twilight said, “Moon Dancer? What are—” before she was muffled by the pencils flying over her.
“There!” Moon Dancer said, admiring her artwork.
On the page, Twilight’s legs were bound in thick shackles, each chained to a stake in the ground, with only enough slack for her to move a few feet in any direction. And there was no hope of using magic to escape from these bonds: Moon Dancer had erased Twilight’s horn.
“What did you do?” Twilight asked, the slightest hint of panic in her voice.
“Well,” Moon Dancer said, “you wanted to say sorry for missing my party. And I thought, what better way to prove your remorse than to attend a new party?” As she spoke, she continued drawing, adding scenery around Twilight: party banners, tables full of snacks, and a variety of games.
“And what do this and this”—Twilight wiggled one shackled hoof, then pointed it at her bare forehead—“have do with parties?”
“Oh, just a little safeguard to make sure you don’t skip out on me, again.”
Twilight leveled a deadpan expression at Moon Dancer. “You know, this is kidnapping. You kinda lost the right to guilt trip me over skipping your party, now.”
“Oh, don’t be such a party pooper! Here, have some cake.”
Moon Dancer sketched a table right in front of Twilight, bearing a large, rectangular sheet cake. Atop the cake were rough portraits of Moon Dancer and Twilight, with the text Pony Friends Forever!, all depicted with frosting. Twilight just shot Moon Dancer a skeptical look.
“Sheesh, it’s just an ordinary cake,” Moon Dancer said. “I didn’t put any poison or freaky magic into it, I promise.”
“What the hay?” Twilight said. “I was just wondering how you expect me to actually eat that? Considering...” She waved again at her missing horn.
“You know, just stick your face in and eat!” Moon Dancer smirked. “And don’t pretend you mind getting food on your face. I’ve seen how you eat hayburgers.”
“Okay, I guess.” Twilight leaned over and bit off a mouthful of the cake. As she chewed, her face lit up. “Mmmm! This is really good!” She took another bite, then another.
When Twilight leaned away from the table, smiling, Moon Dancer said, “Don’t stop there! Eat up!”
“Oh, I’d love to, but I had a big lunch, and I’m already stuffed. I couldn’t possibly eat any more.”
“But Twilight, this is your cake! I made it specifically for you, so you have to eat all of it.”
Again, Twilight looked skeptical. “This cake’s big enough for forty ponies. How could I possibly eat it all myself? Are you trying to make me sick?”
“No, I’m...” The smile on Moon Dancer’s face faltered. “You wouldn’t understand... Oh, screw it!”
Once again putting pencil to the paper, Moon Dancer wrote above Twilight: Overwhelmed by desire for the deliciousness before her, Twilight dove back into the cake and devoured the entire thing.
“Well,” Twilight said, “if you won’t explain yourself, then there’s no—” When her voice abruptly ended, her eyes went white, and her entire body stiffened. Then she stuck her face back into the cake and resumed eating.
“Yes, yes...” Moon Dancer said, watching as Twilight’s belly began to swell with the volume she ate.
But after Twilight’s first few swallows, Moon Dancer realized she wasn’t enjoying this spectacle as much as she should have. Twilight’s motions were far too rigid—robotic, even. Those unblinking, white eyes were just unnerving. And the way she ate...
“Om nom nom,” Twilight said in a complete monotone. “I am overwhelmed by desire for the deliciousness before me. Om nom nom.”
Moon Dancer facehoofed. “Yeah, this isn’t going to work.”
Finally, the puppet-Twilight finished the cake, even licking the last crumbs and smudges of frosting off the serving tray. Then she loosened up, returning to a more natural pose—her larger belly wobbling a bit as she moved—and her eyes returned to normal. She said, “—way I’m going to eat all that... What the hay?!” Twilight’s gaze darted from the now-empty cake tray to her new, rounder stomach, and then to Moon Dancer.
“Hehe, sorry about that. Not gonna try that again. Here, let me make it up to you.” Moon Dancer then drew another cake on the tray, exactly the same size as the just-eaten one. The frosting atop this one just spelled out SORRY!
“There you go!”
“You just forced me to eat a cake, somehow.” Twilight deadpanned. “And now you’re going to apologize... by making me eat another cake?”
“But this time you’re going to be cognizant while you eat it!” Moon Dancer clapped her hooves. “And that makes all the difference!”
Twilight sat down, causing her belly to bounce, then she crossed her forelegs and glared back at Moon Dancer. Her cake-filled stomach squished a bit under her forelegs.
“Not gonna cooperate, huh?” Moon Dancer tapped her chin with a pencil eraser. Then she wrote on the page: Through some unknown magic, the cake attached itself to Twilight Sparkle’s face.
The cake leaped off the tray, flew through the air, and splattered onto Twilight, encasing her head in a sphere of pastry and frosting before she could react.
Moon Dancer continued: It was obvious that, if Twilight wanted to get the cake off, there was only one way she could do it...
Twilight leaped upright and scrambled backwards as far as her shackles would allow. A muffled shout came from the cake-ball, and then the softer sound of chewing and swallowing. Slowly but steadily, the mass of cake shrank as Twilight consumed it from the inside—while her gut grew at a matching rate. Where Twilight had been reasonably fit before (a pony doesn’t place fifth in The Running of the Leaves by being overweight), now her stomach hung past her elbows and brushed against the insides of her legs.
“Mmmhh... mmnnmm...” Twilight moaned through the cake, over and over. Every moan was punctuated with a gulp—and with every swallow, her belly swelled out a few more inches. It was squishing out to the sides as it expanded now. Twilight widened her legs slightly to accommodate her belly’s growth, and the whole thing shook from the movement.
Finally, Twilight swallowed and found nothing more to chew: a few bites of cake still clung to the sides of her head, but her face was free. She gasped, then glanced to every side rapidly—and in the process, accidentally shook off those smudges of cake still clinging to her. These pieces hovered in the air, rotated around Twilight’s head once, then rushed into her mouth. Twilight could do nothing but roll her eyes, chew, and swallow—adding a final few inches to her impressive girth.
Twilight gazed with disbelief at her own distended stomach. She was nearly twice as wide as before, and her gut hung to less than a foot above the floor. She adjusted her stance to stand on three hooves, and her whole belly sloshed and squished in response. When she prodded the huge mass with her free leg, almost the entire hoof sank in.
“How does it feel?”
Twilight flinched at Moon Dancer’s voice, causing her gut to wobble again.
Moon Dancer continued, with curiosity written across her face as plainly as her bright blush, “Is it uncomfortable to be so full? Or does it hurt when your skin stretches that far?”
Twilight just scowled.
“Are you any more, you know... sensitive there?”
Twilight blushed, and raised one eyebrow.
Moon Dancer harumphed. “Fine, be that way. And you know what? You’re right, that whole claustrophobia angle was probably a bit much. I’ll figure something better out! Still, you have to admit that was pretty good cake, right?”
“One slice, yes,” Twilight said. “But not the whole thing, forced dow—Mmmph!”
Moon Dancer drew a simple wedge shape, and jammed its pointed end into Twilight’s mouth. Twilight tried to shake her head, to dislodge the object, but it remained completely immobile while Moon Dancer completed drawing it, so Twilight only succeeded at shaking her own body and her huge, swinging gut. Moon Dancer, meanwhile, added curves at the end of the wedge, and a further widening and an ellipse at the end, then vertical lines beneath the shape, and finally some horizontal lines across Twilight’s face.
“There!” Moon Dancer said, admiring her artwork. She had drawn a massive funnel of clear plastic, held up by support beams bolted into the ground—and with a rubber hose running from the thin end to the nozzle lodged in Twilight’s mouth. Her jaw was wide open to accommodate the size, while a thick strap ran around her head, holding her mouth in place over the nozzle.
Twilight grunted and groaned, glaring daggers at Moon Dancer.
“Hey now,” Moon Dancer said. “Don’t you see? I’m helping you! You’ve always wanted to be like Princess Celestia, right? Well, do you have any idea how many cakes she eats?”
Twilight’s eyes widened. She tried to back away, to pull herself off the funnel, but to no avail. Her belly shook and wobbled with every frantic motion.
Moon Dancer continued, “So you’ve got a lot of catching up to do. It’s a good thing I’m here to help!”
Above the funnel, she drew two round cakes: a thick pound cake from a bundt pan with a light glaze dribbled over it, and a moist, two-layer cake with thick frosting. Written atop the second cake was Go, Twilight! You can do it! As soon as Moon Dancer pulled her pencil away, both cakes fell. In accordance with cartoon physics, when they landed in the funnel, gravity reduced them both to a cake-y mush that quickly flowed down, forming a series of bulges in the hose that rushed right into Twilight’s mouth.
“Mrrrrrrrrrrmmmmm...” Twilight scrunched her eyes shut and groaned as her mouth filled with the semi-liquified dessert. She resisted swallowing, so her cheeks swelled from the mass of cake forcing its way into her mouth. Her expanding face flushed with the effort of fighting, but the flow of sugary pastry was relentless. Further and further her cheeks swelled, and as they surpassed the size of her head, it became obvious that Twilight’s resolve was crumbling. Her ears folded back while her eyes opened, darting frantically and pleadingly between the hose in her own mouth and Moon Dancer’s face.
“Mmmhhhmmmhhhmmhhmmmm...” Twilight whimpered and finally swallowed. She gulped, once, then again, then again, over and over. Every inch her cheeks shrank was another inch her belly gained. When her cheeks returned to a reasonable size, Twilight continued swallowing involuntarily. The cake now flowed unabated through the funnel and hose, down her throat, and into her expanding belly.
Twilight’s stomach squished outward even further. She didn’t have to widen her stance now, because her gut was pushing her legs apart all on its own. Her still-inflating, purple balloon of a belly was just an inch or two above the ground now. But the end was in sight: the funnel was empty, and the last of the cake was now flowing through the hose.
Then Moon Dancer drew a huge cheesecake above the funnel. As it fell, Twilight had just enough time to notice the design atop it: a chocolate glaze portrait of Moon Dancer, smiling. Then it, too, turned to mush in the funnel, flooding down to add even more to Twilight’s waistline. Her bloating belly hung so low now that, every time it swayed (and so wobbly was it that the slightest motion on her part was enough to set it swaying), it brushed against the ground at the bottom of each swing.
Twilight hadn’t even gulped down a quarter of the cheesecake when Moon Dancer drew two more, just as big as the first. One bore a picture of Moon Dancer winking, and the other, a picture of Moon Dancer pursing her lips for a kiss. As Twilight gazed in shock at the mass of thick custard just waiting to pour into her, her legs wobbled and gave out. However, she barely fell at all—her massive belly cushioned her, squishing out as it supported her weight, then pushing her back up. As Twilight bounced atop her own wobbling gut, she let out a low moan.
“See, Twilight? Isn’t this fun?” Moon Dancer said.
Twilight tried to glare, but the best she could conjure was a look of mild irritation. She was blushing, and her ears flicked rapidly. Twilight flailed her legs until she could reach the ground again, then stood up—squishing her legs several inches into the sides of her massive belly to do so. Now, even standing as tall as she could manage, her gut lay flat on the floor, squeezing a few feet out to each side, between her legs. And with every dollop of cheesecake she swallowed, it squished out a few inches further.
As Twilight reached the halfway point of the three cheesecakes, her four hooves felt lighter on the ground. Her inflating gut was now pushing her spine up, lifting her into the air. “Mmnnrrrrmmm!” Twilight shouted into the hose. She kicked her legs, trying to reach for the ground, but her bloating belly was too large now for any of her hooves to reach that far—and it wasn’t going to stop expanding any time soon. Twilight’s kicking and flailing just set her stomach jiggling and wobbling fiercely.
As the sloshing of Twilight’s belly bounced her up and down, her legs’ flailing slowed, then stopped. Her face softened, and she moaned again. Gently, experimentally, she pressed one forehoof a few inches into her massive gut. Her face flushed, even brighter than before, and she pressed her other hoof into her inflating belly harder, squishing even further into her yielding skin. She pulled her hooves away, then pressed them both, harder still—moaning lewdly while her forelegs sank as far as she could push into her still-growing stomach.
Twilight fell into a rhythm, squishing her huge belly bed first with her forelegs, then with her hind legs, over and over. Her gut—now three times her old height and still growing—sloshed under her caresses, gently rocking her back and forth in time with her movement. Sweating and breathing heavily, Twilight increased her pace. The larger she inflated, the faster she squished and squeezed at the growing belly beneath her.
Just as Twilight’s movements became frantic and erratic, and her moans grew ever more high-pitched, something interrupted her. The chain on her left foreleg went tight, pulling her leg straight out, angling downward. “Hrrmmm?” Twilight mumbled in a daze, just before her right foreleg’s chain also went tight. A few swallows of cheesecake later, both her hind legs were likewise pulled into place.
Twilight’s belly had lifted her so far into the air that her chains couldn’t reach any farther. Worse, she couldn’t move any of her legs at all—certainly not to prod and massage the tantalizingly squishy stomach beneath her. Twilight gave a disappointed moan, then pulled as hard against the chains as she could, but only managed to make her legs tremble slightly. Her gut, unable to bloat upward any more, instead bloated to the sides even faster than before. It squished around her legs and even completely enveloped the chains as it grew wider and wider.
Twilight, still pulling on her chains, succeeded only in rocking herself back and forth a few inches. This clearly wasn’t enough. She looked straight at Moon Dancer and moaned a plaintive, “Mmmmmmmmmm?”
“Oh, yeah, that’s the ticket,” Moon Dancer said under her breath. Then, as she noticed Twilight’s gaze, she sat up straighter. “Oh! Yeah, you must be really pent up, Twilight. Well, I know a great solution for that!”
Moon Dancer grabbed a pencil—which had nearly rolled off the desk while she was gazing at Twilight—and went back to drawing. She drew The Mother of All Cakes: a ten-tier wedding cake of ludicrous proportions. Twilight had complained about her first cake being large enough to feed forty ponies; well, this baked monstrosity was easily the size of forty ponies—forty strapping stallions like Big Macintosh, even. And atop the peak of this cake mountain were two edible figurines: Twilight Sparkle in a black tuxedo, and Moon Dancer in a long, white dress.
The cakestrosity landed in the funnel with such force that a veritable flood of cake-y mush blasted into Twilight’s mouth. Her eyes bugged out, and her stomach bulged out even further. For a few seconds, her belly strained against the chains, its entire mass trembling from the building pressure. Then, all four of the stakes yanked out of the ground. Her unbound stomach inflated like a shockwave, expanding several feet in every direction in mere seconds.
Riding atop this explosive growth, Twilight convulsed with pleasure. Squeezing her belly as tightly as she could with all four of her legs, she stretched her back and jerked her hips, bucking the empty air, over and over. She pressed her face into her gut, almost completely muffling her moans of ecstasy. Again and again she thrusted, her stomach sloshing beneath her even harder than before.
Finally, as Twilight inflated to over six times her old height, her jerking slowed, then stopped. She sighed and went completely limp, simply laying flat on the belly bed that continued wobbling and inflating beneath her.
And then she was gone.
Moon Dancer closed her eyes, shook her head, and looked again at the page. Her own scribblings were still there, but that two-dimensional Twilight Sparkle was nowhere to be seen. Moon Dancer sighed. “Well, it was fun while it lasted.”
When she looked up from the book, something caught the corner of her eye. She turned around, and her jaw dropped.
Twilight was right there, in the flesh. Not just a drawing, but a living, breathing, three-dimensional pony—still attached to a massive, squishy, cake-bloated belly. Her size utterly dominated the study, and the wood floor creaked and sagged under her immense weight. Twilight was so large, she could have scratched the paint off the ceiling with her just-returned horn—if she weren’t sprawled across her stomach, limp and sweaty, her unshackled legs pressing into her gut slightly.
“Oh, yeaaaaahhhh...” Twilight moaned.
Moon Dancer hesitated for only a second before leaping from her seat. She quickly crossed the few feet that separated her from that round purple belly. Then she reared back, spread her forelegs wide, and threw herself against Twilight’s stomach. As Moon Dancer sank into the soft, squishy gut—as the side of the belly molded itself against her own underside—she felt a pleasant heat spread inside her. The purple coat tickled her nose as she pressed her blushing face into the bloated stomach.
“What the...?” Twilight said. “Oh!” Her magic washed over her body. Before Moon Dancer could react, the massive belly disappeared, and she fell to the floor.
Twilight, restored to her normal proportions, stood over Moon Dancer. “You forgot something.”
“Not really.” Slowly, Moon Dancer stood back up. “I only went through with that because I knew you’d only be stuck in the book temporarily.”
Twilight shook her head. “That’s not what I mean. You forgot that.” She pointed, and Moon Dancer looked in that direction.
She saw something that couldn’t exist. It was a huge object, a long hexagonal prism with a pointed end, hovering in the air. It was oriented at an impossible angle: one end was outside her house, and the other was just a few inches from her face, yet somehow it didn’t pass through any of the walls or windows. Its yellow color was so vivid, it made the entire room look dull in comparison.
Moon Dancer looked up to the end of the cylinder, and a massive purple face looked back at her. Moon Dancer looked down at her own hoof, and noticed for the first time how flat and colorless it was. And then she understood.
She was just a drawing on a page, not a real pony. This, in front of her, was a pencil. And Twilight Sparkle—the real Twilight Sparkle—was the one controlling that pencil.
“Looks like somepony’s been a bad girl,” Twilight said. “Do I need to punish you?”
Moon Dancer smirked. “I’m not bad. I’m just drawn that way.”
Twilight shoved the pencil into Moon Dancer’s mouth. “Bad jokes are also a punishable offense!”
The pencil tip fit inside her mouth, but just barely. Her jaw was open to its absolute limit around the shaft, and she could feel the graphite point tickling the back of her throat. Moon Dancer didn’t try to pull away or struggle at all, simply resigning herself to her fate.
“Now,” Twilight said, “I want to do some kind of ironic punishment. Those are usually fun. But just force-feeding you a ton of cakes is too... simple. What to do, what to do?” Her face lit up. “Aha! The perfect idea!” She gave Moon Dancer a devious smirk. “I’m going to make you eat your words.”
Letters suddenly formed in the air before Moon Dancer. They arranged themselves into text: Overwhelmed by desire for the deliciousness before her, Twilight dove back into the cake and devoured the entire thing. The sentence dissipated into a gray smoke—but instead of floating up, it drifted down. It absorbed into the massive pencil, then poured through it, right down Moon Dancer’s throat.
It was like nothing she had ever experienced. The word-smoke tasted like graphite. It felt heavier than air but lighter than water, somewhere between a gas and a liquid.
And it filled Moon Dancer’s stomach in just a few seconds. And it kept flowing, inflating her gut with its force.
When she had expanded to twice her usual width, more words appeared in the air: Through some unknown magic, the cake attached itself to Twilight Sparkle’s face. It was obvious that, if Twilight wanted to get the cake off, there was only one way she could do it... These sentences also dissolved and flowed through the pencil, into Moon Dancer’s expanding belly.
Moon Dancer moaned around the wooden shaft filling her mouth. Twilight was right—this felt good. Her full stomach gave her the endorphin rush of a large meal, only moreso as it expanded further than ever before, to contain this unrelenting flow. And her skin became more and more sensitive as it stretched. Here and there, it stung, but this was the good kind of stinging—the stinging that told a mare she was really living.
As Moon Dancer felt the bottom of her belly brush against the ground, she lifted one hoof, intending to prod her distended stomach. Instead, with a fwooomph!, her leg inflated to twice its normal width and stuck straight out. Fwooomph! Fwooomph! Fwooomph! Her other three legs inflated in turn, stiffening beyond Moon Dancer’s control. She didn’t even fall when her legs splayed; she simply laid on her swelling belly, which was already her original height and still growing larger. Her rump was inflating now as well, and her entire body growing rounder.
And thanks to Moon Dancer’s increasing sensitivity, the spot where her gut rested against the ground—where her own weight squished the two together—felt like an impossibly sensual caress. For that matter, so did all the places where her stomach strained against her wool turtleneck. The more she inflated, the more that ratty old sweater unraveled at the seams, and the wool dragging against her coat caused wave after wave of pleasure to wash over her.
Something prodded her side, another jolt of pleasant stinging. It was Twilight Sparkle: not the real-world Twilight, but the fellow drawing who Moon Dancer had been force-feeding mere minutes before. Tenderly, she massaged the side of Moon Dancer’s expanding belly with one hoof, eliciting another moan from the ballooning mare. All the while, this Twilight wore a small smile and half-lidded eyes.
The flow of fluidified words slowed to a trickle, then stopped.
“Well,” Twilight—the real Twilight, the one holding the pencil—said. “Those words went farther than I thought, but that’s the last of them. So, what do we do now, Moon Dancer?”
Moon Dancer just moaned into the pencil as the other Twilight worked her massage magic.
“Wrong answer!” the real Twilight said.
One of Moon Dancer’s drawings materialized in the air: a chain, with a shackle on one end and a stake on the other. Like the text before, it disintegrated and flowed into the pencil, rapidly inflating Moon Dancer a few feet further.
“Still, maybe you’ve been punished enough, Moon Dancer. Maybe—”
As the drawn Twilight made her way around Moon Dancer, she started massaging that bloated belly with both her hooves. Moon Dancer moaned again.
“Don’t interrupt!”
Another chain and shackle appeared, adding another foot to Moon Dancer’s waistline.
“As I was saying, maybe you’ve learned your lesson. Moon Dancer, have you learned your lesson yet?”
Hovering in the air, the other Twilight wrapped her forelegs around Moon Dancer’s inflated rump cheeks and squeezed as hard as she could. Moon Dancer’s eyes rolled back in her head as she moaned yet again.
“Wrong answer.”
Two chains and shackles materialized, then disappeared down Moon Dancer’s throat, expanding her even further.
“Come on, now. Don’t be such a contrarian. You want to be a good little pony, right?”
The other Twilight was now on Moon Dancer’s other side. She leaned her own side into the inflated gut, rubbing her face into that mass. Moon Dancer let out a muffled whinny of pleasure.
“Wrong answer, again.”
The massive funnel—the whole apparatus Moon Dancer had used to force countless slices of cake down the other Twilight’s mouth—now made its way into Moon Dancer’s stomach. Meanwhile, Twilight finally stopped massaging her.
“Oooh, and what’s this?” The real Twilight held up a thick stack of paper. “A one-hundred-page review of the history of chariots, written by Moon Dancer? My, my, that’s a lot of words.” She smiled at Moon Dancer with a predatory gleam in her eyes. “All, right. This is your last chance, Moon Dancer. Have you had enough, or do I need to punish you some more?”
Moon Dancer laughed, causing her inflated body to jiggled and wobble all over. “Uuuuuh ooooooh eeeeh,” she said, the shaft in her mouth muffling her words.
“All, right, if you say so.”
New text appeared: The invention of the chariot is difficult to place, because the exact definition of “chariot” is under debate. No two scholars agree on where to draw the line between “pre-chariots” (carts and wagons with certain chariot features) and chariots proper. For the purposes of this review... An entire paragraph formed, dissipated, and flowed down Moon Dancer’s throat. After that, another paragraph, then another—the torrent of text became a flood, filling her larger and larger. The torn pieces of her sweater were now comically small scraps compared to the great curve of her inflating body. As Moon Dancer’s torso swelled outward, it squished around the bases of her legs and began swallowing the stiffened limbs.
The drawn Twilight Sparkle pushed into Moon Dancer’s side, even harder than before—enough to make her roll about a foot. Before the massive belly could stop wobbling, Twilight pushed again. In this way, Twilight rolled Moon Dancer onto her back, the unicorn sloshing and jiggling and inflating all the while. Then Twilight took to the air and landed on that gut, which was now dozens of times larger than herself. The sensation of those purple hooves sinking into her swelling flesh thrilled Moon Dancer to no end. Twilight lay down, spreading her legs to press her own thin barrel as tightly as she could against Moon Dancer’s inflating belly.
“You know, Moon Dancer, seeing you like this...” she said. “I think I understand what you were trying to accomplish.”
And then Twilight commenced massaging Moon Dancer’s stomach. First she rubbed her fore legs back and forth, then her hind legs, and then she was moving all four of her legs in sensuous harmony. She alternated between brushing her hooves over Moon Dancer’s sensitive skin and pressing as far into the belly as she could—squeezing it, kneading it. Sometimes she ground her own stomach against Moon Dancer’s.
These ministrations pushed Moon Dancer to undreamt-of heights of arousal. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she moaned into the wooden shaft that was still pumping her fuller and fuller. She tried to flail her legs, but with those limbs sunk over halfway into her ballooning sides, all she could manage was to wiggle them a few inches. This was enough to set her entire round body swaying, even more than it already was from Twilight’s massage.
“Mmmmph. Yes,” Twilight said, wobbling back and forth as Moon Dancer’s inflation pushed her higher and higher. “It just needs a little something... extra.” With a flash of her horn, Twilight summoned two cakes—twins of the very first sheet cakes Moon Dancer had forced on her. She rubbed all four of her legs back and forth, brushing circles in Moon Dancer’s belly fur. With another flash, Twilight compressed both cakes into a single lump of impossible dense dough, small enough to eat in a single bite. Which Twilight promptly did, while simultaneously squeezing Moon Dancer’s gut as tightly as she could. And with one last flash, she expanded the cake in her stomach back to its normal size. Her belly bloated out with it—once again large enough to hang halfway to the ground if she were standing up—and she pushed with her back and hips, pressing her new bulge against Moon Dancer’s exponentially larger stomach.
Moon Dancer was on cloud nine. The flame of desire had been fanned to a raging inferno deep inside her, and every sensation—her skin’s increasing sensitivity as it stretched further and further; Twilight’s wonderful hooves kneading her belly; her coat rubbing against itself as her bloating torso swallowed her legs, up to the hooves now—was just more fuel for the fire. And now that Moon Dancer felt hotter than phoenix-fire, the gentle pressure of Twilight’s comparatively tiny pudge against her—squishing out to the sides as Twilight pressed down, jiggling along with Moon Dancer’s massive wobbles—was enough to push her over the edge.
Moon Dancer saw white. Where before she felt fire, now she felt a glorious explosion of pleasure. Involuntarily, she jerked her own hips, over and over. Since the tips of her hooves had just sunk into her inflating sides, her convulsions merely made her slosh harder than she already was.
“Wooo-hooo!” Twilight shouted as she rode the jiggling blimp that Moon Dancer had become.
“Oh my goodness, tiny drawn me,” the real Twilight Sparkle said, “you’re such a dirty little pony. Don’t ever stop.”
The other Twilight stuck her tongue out at her real counterpart. Then, standing up, she reached out with her telekinesis. Moon Dancer lifted up a few feet, then rolled in midair, slowly. As Moon Dancer rotated, Twilight walked along the top, until the huge globe of a pony was upright again. Then Twilight dropped her.
Moon Dancer was just metaphorically coming down from her climax when she literally fell down to the floor. She wobbled and shook from the impact, strong enough to set her off again.
When she emerged from the haze of pleasure, and her vision cleared, she found Twilight hovering in the air in front of her. With half-lidded eyes and a sultry smile, Twilight telekinetically pulled the pencil out of Moon Dancer’s face. Her mouth suddenly empty, Moon Dancer opened and closed her jaw experimentally. “Pluh...”
“Hey!” the real Twilight protested. “What’s the big idea?”
The drawn Twilight blew a raspberry at her. Then, hovering closer, she held Moon Dancer’s cheeks with her hooves. “Come here, you cutie.” Of course, Moon Dancer couldn’t go anywhere—she was a bloated behemoth whose weight alone would have immobilized her, even if her inflated torso hadn’t swallowed her legs completely—so Twilight leaned closer to her. She kissed Moon Dancer, first on one cheek, then the other. Then she kissed the tip of her horn; that quick, chaste peck was still enough to send electric jolts racing up and down Moon Dancer’s spine. Moon Dancer closed her eyes and pursed her own lips in anticipation, but Twilight ignored that and kissed the very tip of her snout.
“Twilight...” Moon Dancer whined.
Twilight turned to her right ear, nibbling softly on its tip and working slowly down. More electricity coursed through Moon Dancer, a fresh jolt with every playful nibble Twilight gave her.
“Twi—oh! Mmmm...”
When she got halfway down Moon Dancer’s right ear, Twilight switched over to the left one. Instead of nibbling, she wrapped her mouth around the entire ear and licked it. With agonizing slowness, Twilight dragged her warm, wet tongue all the way to the tip of that ear—and with every wonderful inch, Moon Dancer’s temperature rose.
“Twiiiiiiiiliiiiiiiiiiight... I can’t—”
And then Twilight kissed Moon Dancer on the mouth. Fireworks went off in Moon Dancer’s mind as those soft princess lips pressed against her own, and she practically melted into the kiss.
“Mmmmmmm...”
A fresh burst of energy came to Moon Dancer, and she wasted no time before pushing her tongue forward, sliding it between Twilight’s lips. The alicorn quickly responded in kind. As they competed for the gold medal in tongue jousting, Twilight wrapped her forelegs around Moon Dancer’s head. She ran her hooves through Moon Dancer’s mane and scratched behind her ears. It was slightly crowded back there—Moon Dancer was so inflated that her torso had swallowed her neck up to the base of her jaw. Still, every time Twilight’s hoof brushed against the huge balloon of her body—or even better, rested against her body for balance—it was yet another jolt of pleasure for Moon Dancer.
Then Twilight’s hooves were gone, and her lips against Moon Dancer felt strange, as if they were... rotating. Moon Dancer opened one eye, then both, and boggled at the sight. Twilight had indeed rotated—she was now hanging upside-down in the air. Hanging, because her hooves were once again shackled, and the chains ran all the way to the ceiling. The room itself had changed, too: in place of Moon Dancer’s study, the real-world Twilight Sparkle had drawn a cavernous chamber with carved stone walls, floor, and ceiling.
Whether because she hadn’t noticed, or through sheer bloody-minded stubbornness, the drawn Twilight ignored these changes. She persisted in making out with Moon Dancer, in spite of being chained upside-down. And Moon Dancer reciprocated, more or less on auto-pilot.
Movement to the side drew Moon Dancer’s gaze over. The pencil was flitting rapidly through the air as Twilight sketched an object in the otherwise-empty room. It was cylindrical, and large enough that Moon Dancer’s entire cottage could have fit inside it. Then Twilight drew a label on the side—“CAKE BATTER” in large block letters—and Moon Dancer finally realized that cylinder was a tank. And only then did she notice the rubber hose that ran all the way from the base of the tank to somewhere close behind Twilight (the Twilight whose tongue was currently exploring Moon Dancer’s tonsils). Moon Dancer couldn’t see the hose’s end, but she had a pretty good guess which orifice it was currently stuck in.
With a whiiiiirrrrrr, the tank pump turned on. A bulge formed in the hose, swelled up to the size of a foal, then slid along the hose towards Twilight’s posterior. Scant seconds later, another bulge followed, then another, then another. As each payload reached Twilight, her midsection bloated at least a foot further; she was inflating faster now than she had under Moon Dancer’s control. The chains rattled and jingled as Twilight’s cake batter-filled belly pushed her legs apart. She swelled to four, five, six times her normal size, and her legs went completely spread-eagle as her whole body began to round out.
And still Twilight continued tongue-wrestling with Moon Dancer. If anything, she went at it even more vigor as she grew more balloon-shaped, as her legs sank into her inflating sides, as the cake batter pumped her to ten times her old size, and larger.
But before Moon Dancer could think too hard on this, she felt the jolt of something sliding between her own rump cheeks. Something hard and hexagonal, but tapering to a point: Twilight’s pencil. And it immediately resumed inflating Moon Dancer, pumping her fuller and fuller. And as the haze of pleasure grew thicker in her mind, she threw herself into kissing Twilight with renewed energy.
Out in the real world, Twilight Sparkle looked down on her work with pride and no small amount of lust. Those two silly ponies, locked together by the throes of passion (and their own immobility), all the while inflating like blimps—it really was a beautiful sight. Of the two, that animated drawing of herself was bloating up slightly faster, but Moon Dancer had a significant head start. Would little Twilight catch up to her before emptying the tank—before getting pumped full of a house-sized mass of cake batter? The real Twilight would certainly enjoy finding out.
“I’m gonna need a bigger piece of paper.” She laid more sheets on her table and magically fused them to her animated drawing of Moon Dancer and herself, producing one triple-sized canvas. “Hmm...” she said, “you know what would make this even better?”
As Moon Dancer bloated even larger than the entire volume of her old study, and the drawn Twilight lagged behind, the real Twilight grabbed two more pencils. Very carefully, she began drawing two————
———
Moon Dancer felt hot breath on her ear—sensed a presence just over her shoulder—and suddenly realized she wasn’t alone in her study anymore. “Whhaaaaaa!” She flinched, accidentally scribbling over the remaining blank space at the bottom of the page, then spun to face the intruder.
“Sorry,” Twilight Sparkle said, grinning bashfully.
“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” Moon Dancer leaned against the desk. Her face was flushed, but her racing heart was slowing back down to normal.
“You’re just so cute when you’re that focused, dear. I couldn’t help myself.” Twilight nuzzled Moon Dancer’s neck. “So, what are you writing?”
Moon Dancer blushed even brighter. “Nothing! Nothing at all!” She telekinetically shuffled the stacks of paper on her desk, covering up the pages she had been writing on—her very kinky story about herself and Twilight. “Oh, look, I lost it, whatever it was! Oops!”
Twilight hmmphed and stepped away. “Fine, if you don’t want to show it to me... It’s getting late. I’m going to bed.” She trotted over to the door, then paused. “Moon Dancer?”
“Yes?”
“Would you show me whatever it was you were working on, if I also shared somethingreally embarrassing that I wrote?”
Moon Dancer bit her lip. “I... I’ll think about it.”
As Twilight went to the bedroom, Moon Dancer turned back to her desk and un-shuffled the papers. As she pulled her just-interrupted writing out from under the stacks, she thought over Twilight’s offer. What would Twilight think, to find out her girlfriend enjoyed reinterpreting the start of their relationship in such a sordid way? Would she be—
A distinct hissing sound came from the bedroom, interrupting Moon Dancer’s thoughts and making her perk up.
“Moonie?” Twilight sing-songed. “Are you coming to bed? Don’t leave me hanging, dear...”
Moon Dancer rushed to the bedroom, stopping at the doorway. Inside, Twilight reclined on the bed, in just the right pose to show off her belly and accentuate the curve of her hips. She smiled at Moon Dancer with half-lidded eyes—the naked desire written across Twilight’s face was nearly enough to melt Moon Dancer’s insides.
And Twilight had her 120-gallon air tank next to the bed, with the outlet hose planted firmly in her backside. “Well?” she said, as her belly slowly inflated.
Moon Dancer blinked twice, then realized she was still clutching her unfinished story in her telekinetic grip. Giving Twilight a sly smile, she walked towards the bed. “Well, Twi, you know what they say: ‘Work before pleasure.’”
She pulled her sweater off and climbed onto the bed. “So as much as I’d love to do what you’re suggesting...”
Her hind hoof bumped against the air tank, opening the valve a bit more. Purely by accident, of course. “...I really need to finish writing this story, first.”
Moon Dancer sprawled across Twilight, squishing against the inflating alicorn’s belly. “Do you think you can wait that long, honey?”
“This time... take as long as you need,” Twilight said.
Moon Dancer leaned over and kissed her. “You’re the best.” Then she put her quill to the page and resumed writing. The words flowed, and she gradually rose higher and higher while Twilight filled with air beneath her.
“Hmm... I just got an idea for an entirely new subplot.” Moon Dancer wriggled, pressing herself against her wonderful alicorn balloon. “So this may take longer than I thought...”
