A study of cartoon physics

Spearmint awoke to a heavy pressure across his torso, straining to take a few deep breaths. He was nearly swallowed up by his soft bed, pressed deep into the mattress by a mountain of blue. Familiar purple eyes greeted him from inches above as his vision gradually sharpened. He squinted, turning his head to glance at the alarm clock on his bedside table. 2:08 a.m.

He sighed, rolling his head back to glare dully up at the slightly-chubby mare straddling him. “What.”

“Hi,” Pepper said simply, returning his stare with a bright smile. “How are you?”

“What,” he repeated, eyes narrowing impatiently.

“That’s good.” Pepper shifted her weight, settling more comfortably on top of him, in the process putting a much less comfortable squeeze on Spearmint’s stomach. “Hungry?”

“No.” Spearmint struggled to free his forelegs from her vice-grip, to no avail. “Go home, Pepper.”

“Are you sure? I think I can feel somepony’s tummy grumbling~!”

“No, I don’t think you can.” He lay his head back against the pillow and shut his eyes, waiting for the embrace of sleep or for the mare to leave, whichever came first. “Goodnight.”

After a few agonizingly long and physically uncomfortable minutes, Spearmint felt a cool object gently but insistently bumping against his snout. He sighed. “Pepper, whatever food you brought with you, I don’t wa–” He jolted in shock, eyes snapping wide open as the object invaded his mouth. The blue hoof in front of his eyes was guiding a thick hose inside, and he felt the metallic tip of a nozzle brush against the back of his throat. “Mmghf! Hmm!”

“Oh, shush,” Pepper chided him, stretching a hindleg out and kicking something behind her. In the near-darkness of his room, Spear caught the glint of moonlight off what appeared to be a metallic tank at the foot of his bed. He could only guess what it contained, but the fact that it towered above everything else in his room, at least twice the size of his refrigerator, gave him little in the way of comfort.

Before he could even bother with more futile squirming, a lukewarm liquid flooded his mouth, and he instinctively, almost rhythmically, started gulping it down. The taste could only be described as… fat. And somehow… slippery. Whatever it was, if Pepper was force-feeding it to him, it couldn’t be healthy in any large amount.

He stopped swallowing for a moment, trying to force his mouth wider and allow the substance to dribble harmlessly out, but his jaws were stretched to their limit by the hose, his teeth digging into the rubber and keeping it firmly locked in place. His cheeks bulged as they quickly filled up, and the greasy fluid rose in the back of his mouth to trickle from his nose. Coughing and sputtering, he reluctantly resumed guzzling the stuff down, sneaking in short gulps of air between swallows.

“So, Mr. Spearmint,” Pepper began with a grin, “how much weight do you think this bed can support? Three, four hundred pounds?” Spearmint grimaced, his flat belly starting to round out as he choked down one mouthful after another. Within minutes, he was sporting a sizable gut, having slurped up a good two gallons of the fatty substance.

Pepper reached back with her hind leg once more, kicking at the faucet on the front of the tank and giving it another full turn. The flow into Spearmint’s mouth must have doubled, and he screwed his eyes shut as he struggled to keep up.

Pepper slid backwards to sit on the stallion’s hind legs, lifting one of her front hooves off the bed. Whether Spearmint noticed or cared, he gave no indication, merely bobbing his head in time with his long, hearty gulps. Her hoof traced gentle circles over his soft tummy, the skin growing steadily more taut to her touch, the contents faintly churning and swirling about inside.

As the hour went on and Spear’s gut began to spill onto the bed and into Pepper’s lap, his eyes eventually fluttering shut, and his need to swallow being the only thing keeping him awake, he came to notice a strange tingling in his midsection. He felt warm; the tingling gradually washed over his belly, running down his sides and into his flanks, upwards across his back, swirling around his neck and over his face. It wasn’t unpleasant, he had to admit.

He drowsily forced his eyes open, suspicious that his… friend may be drizzling some syrupy substance over him with less than pure intentions. His momentary dismay as he took in the extent of his bloating faded into confusion as he noted the lack of any sort of glaze over his belly.

The tingling was soon joined by a faint but growing heaviness that spread throughout his body. Finally noticing his unrestrained hoof, he slowly lifted it from the bed, the limb feeling like stone as he cradled his swelling stomach. Perhaps it was just his bleary eyes playing tricks on him, but he could swear that his foreleg was spreading over his belly, ever-so-slowly growing thicker and heavier. Craning his neck to glance along the length of his body, his ears flattened to the sides of his head as his vision was confirmed; his flanks had already widened by at least an inch on either side, and they were growing thicker and doughier by the minute.

Spearmint sluggishly reached up and grasped the hose, clumsily tugging and jiggling it in a vain attempt to dislodge it from his maw, but his jaws were clamped tightly around it, sore and stiff from being forced open for so long.

Almost unnoticeably slowly, Spear could feel his entire body plumping up, the warm tingling intensifying into a hot, almost mind-numbing bubble bath. More and more of the bed pressed against his back as his form gradually spread over the mattress. He hated how achingly full he was starting to feel, and he hated how Pepper was so happily teasing his tightly-stretched skin with rubs and kisses, and he hated how ridiculously fat he knew he was bound to be as a result of all this, and he really hated that he could tell he was completely red-faced and may have started to drool around the hose due to the wonderfully pleasant sensations that accompanied this whole vile event.

At long last, as his sloshing stomach approached the size of the mare pressed against it, Pepper finally granted the poor colt some relief. With a few more kicks, she halted the flow through the hose, then gently worked Spearmint’s jaw open and slid the hose out. His jaw hung limply half-opened as he drew several raspy breaths, drool pouring down his chin and–he winced–the beginnings of a second, then pooling on his widened chest. Pepper climbed onto his gurgly gut, kneading and squeezing with all four hooves, and Spear grimaced before releasing a long, wet belch.

“I knew you were hungry~!” Pepper sang, draping herself over Spear and throwing her legs around him. Her hooves sunk into the thick new layer of pudge coating the stallion’s sides, and she nuzzled into his soft chest with a giggle.

Frowning slightly, Spearmint tried to ignore the disgustingly pleasant expansion of his flanks and wriggled beneath her, surveying the situation. He’d grown quite noticeably in the past hour; he now made a pretty sizable dent in his mattress, and once his body finished processing the rest of… whatever he’d been forced to drink, he’d likely be nearing the edges on both sides of his twin bed.

“What is that stuff?” He finally asked, nodding to the tank looming at the foot of the bed, which he estimated was still quite unfortunately full. “It just tastes like… fat.”

“Close!” Pepper shook the hose, spraying a few droplets of light yellowish goop onto her hoof, which she then licked up with a hum of delight. “It’s melted butter. Nice and fattening, great for helping ponies bulk up fast – especially ones with a really powerful metabolism like yours! Aren’t you lucky?”

“Aren’t I,” he grumbled, feebly kicking his hind legs against the cushion of chub propping them up. “What brought this on tonight?”

“A little birdie told me you’ve got a date tomorrow~” She leaned in close, booping their noses together with a somewhat manic grin. “So I just wanted to make sure you look nice!”

“Nice?” Spear echoed incredulously. “You couldn’t have just bought me a nice tie or some mane gel?”

She snorted. “Boring. You’ve got those already. But now, thanks to me you’ve got about a hundred more pounds of you that you didn’t have before!”

He groaned, rubbing his eyes with a terribly thick foreleg. “Look, it’s really late. Are we done now? I’d kinda like to be able to walk to the restaurant tomorrow instead of being carted there. If I’m lucky I’ll be able to burn a little of this off so I can fit into my suit.”

“Aww, why would you want to? You make such an adorable little butterball!” Pepper cooed, squishing his flabby cheeks with her hooves.

“Pepper.”

“No, we’re not done.” Ignoring his defeated groan, she picked the hose up once again and inspected the tip, which was still dripping with saliva. Hopping over the edge of the bed, she walked around to the foot, Spear’s view of her completely obscured by his belly. He blinked as he felt Pepper prodding his soft, massive flanks, the nozzle worming its way deep into the crevice between–

“Yipe!” Spear would have jumped ten feet in the air had he been physically able; as it was, he merely writhed about on the bed as the hose pushed deep inside his rear, and with a few squeaks of a faucet, his insides were flooded with warmth. It gushed backwards through his intestines, the kinked tunnels swelling with the warm butter while allowing some to proceed further. As the flow reached the stallion’s stomach, he felt ten times as full as he had only moments prior, tail stiffened and back arched in delicious discomfort.

“You’ll thank me later.” Pepper climbed back onto the bed, reclaiming her seat atop Spearmint’s chest. “I’m just doing everything I can to make you look nice and plump, ‘kay?” She winked, reaching behind him to help prop up his upper body against the pillows.

Spearmint blinked rapidly. “Huh?” Pepper grasped his chin and muzzle firmly, yanking his jaws wide open, and before any protests could be made, she dove muzzle-first into the depths. Spearmint flailed, rocking back and forth on the bed as Pepper pushed herself into the stallion’s tight maw. Her nose pressed firmly into the back of his throat, triggering a powerful swallow that dragged her a good six inches further inside. Her shoulders, chest, wings, and belly all slid in rather quickly as Pepper slithered her way down his gullet. He whimpered as her wide flanks forced their way in, stretching his aching jaw ludicrously wide, and within ten seconds his mouth closed over her back hooves, the mare’s fluffy tail slipping between his lips as her lower body slid down to join the rest of her inside his slowly-expanding stomach.

Coughing a few times to expel some loose hairs and feathers, Spearmint sighed angrily. “Pepper! You know I ha-- *uuurrp* --hate when you do this! Is the butter not enough already?!”

He froze, staring towards the end of the bed with fear. “The butter! Pepper, who’s going to turn the faucet off now?” No response, other than some sloshing from inside his gut and rubbing against the walls of his stomach. “I know you can hear me!”

Spear let out a hmph, leaning forward to reach for the hose – too far. He tried to roll onto his side and reach behind him, but his ballooned belly and chubby forelegs didn’t allow him to do either.

A sudden creak from below drew his attention, and he flicked his ears nervously. Pepper’s question from before rang in his mind: Three, four hundred pounds?

He bit his lip; that tank was far bigger than his bed. He’d be lucky if he could even see his bed in the morning. He glanced down at his churning, steadily bloating tummy, imagining how it might look pressed against the ceiling.

Letting his head hit the pillow with a sigh, he glanced at the clock out of the corner of his eye. 3:25.

At least now he could finally get back to sleep.