Whipped Cream & Other Delights

“And push!” Cloudchaser called.

She and Pinkie Pie both shoved against Flitter’s side, their heads and shoulders sinking deep into that soft, lilac flab before they felt resistance. Soon enough, the bulky pegasus rolled a few feet further into her oversized bedroom.

Flitter came to a stop, rolling onto her back. While her mountainous belly jiggled like gelatin above, her fat face bore a distinctly neutral expression. Flitter was thankful to be this size once again, but it was thankfulness under duress. All the water she had sucked down during that little shower mishap was now gone. Once more, Flitter was merely a four-pony-tall tub of blubber. And upon further thought, just how ridiculous was that? It seemed a perverse parody of those friendship lessons Twilight Sparkle was always talking about: “No matter how big and round you are, the universe can always conspire to inflate you even larger. So be thankful that hasn’t happened yet.”

While Flitter contemplated, Pinkie moved into position to roll the obese pegasus again, her forehooves squishing several inches into that huge stomach. “Ready!” she called up to Cloudchaser.

“Wait, not yet.” Cloudchaser zipped over the hill of Flitter’s gut and grabbed the plus-sized cloud mattress. “Gotta position her bed just right, so she’ll be right-side-up when we roll her onto it.”

“Okey dokey,” Pinkie said. While waiting, she poked and prodded at Flitter, her eyes following as the huge, globular stomach shook at the slightest touch.

“Hrrrrmmmm…” Flitter fought to keep her neutral expression as Pinkie’s hoof squished into her side, every touch rippling through her enormous body—even her fat cheeks shaking slightly.

“Alright, it’s in place,” Cloudchaser said. She flew back into position, level with Flitter’s center of mass—hovering above Pinkie—and braced her shoulder against that hill of blubber. “Ready… and push!”

After a few seconds of jiggling and wobbling, Flitter rolled a little further. Then the process repeated several more times—until she was upright again and lying across her mattress, with her belly spilling over all four side.

As Flitter bobbed up and down atop her huge stomach’s continued shaking, Cloudchaser flew up with a tray in her forehooves. “And now that that’s out of the way—time for dinner!” she said, depositing the tray on the shelf of Flitter’s gut.

Though it was a simple meal—a salad with a light vinaigrette dressing, and a side of raw celery and carrots—Flitter finally allowed herself to smile. “Thanks,” she said, then dug in.

Cloudchaser nodded, then landed at a small table nearby and began eating her own meal, scarcely larger than her sister’s.

“Is it that late already?” Pinkie asked, glancing between the two sisters. “Wow, time sure flies when you’re having fun! I’d better go home and get something myself.” As she walked towards the door, she added, “But don’t you worry, Flitter! I’ll be back as soon as—”

“Actually,” Cloudchaser interrupted, “I think it would be best if you didn’t come back.”

“Huh?” Pinkie froze in the doorway.

“What?” Flitter jerked up, pulling her face out of her salad bowl—the sudden motion jiggling the rest of her body.

“After what happened at Sugarcube Corner,” Cloudchaser said, “and then what happened right here in the shower—”

“That was an accident,” Flitter cut in. “Could’ve happened to anypony.”

“Either way,” Cloudchaser said, “weird things keep happening when you and Pinkie are together. So if you ever want to get back in shape, Pinkie shouldn’t be around to cause any more accidents.”

Pinkie sighed, her ears flopping back and her head lowering. “Okay…”

“No, that’s not okay,” Flitter said. “Pinkie, I really enjoyed having you over today. I mean, except for what happened in the shower, of course. And I know you didn’t do that intentionally, and since I know how much all this means to you… I want to give you another chance.”

“Really?” Pinkie perked up. “Thank you!” She bounced over to Flitter and once more threw herself against that gut with her forelegs spread—another hug that barely encompassed a fraction of Flitter’s circumference. “I’ll make it up to you, don’t you worry!” Flitter wobbled from the force of the hug, as Pinkie squished several inches into her huge stomach.

Cloudchaser, meanwhile, rolled her eyes. “Fine, if that’s what you want,” she said before taking another bite of her salad. “But I still think you’re making a big mistake…”

“Oh!” Pinkie pulled a few inches away from Flitter’s gut, though her forelegs still grasped it firmly. “Oh oh oh oh oh!” Shaking with excitement, Pinkie rocked Flitter’s belly—sloshing and rippling every inch of the oversized pegasus.

“Whoaaa…” Flitter once more found herself riding up and down atop her stomach’s rippling. The dinner tray bounced as well—fortunately, Flitter had already eaten everything—before coming unbalanced and clattering to the floor.

“I am just about to be brilliant!” Pinkie proclaimed, then abruptly stopped shaking Flitter. “As soon as I get something to eat.”

Then she zipped out of the room, leaving just a cloud of smoke shaped like her, and a still-wobbling Flitter in her wake.

—————

One hour later…

“Ding dong!” Pinkie called, trotting once again straight through the wall, into Flitter’s jumbo-sized room. Flitter, reading at that moment, started at the sound—which set her belly to jiggling again, but this time, she caught her book before it could slide off.

“Guess what?” Pinkie asked. “I found a way to get you back to your old size right now! You see, when Cloudchaser said you were making a big mistake, that made me think of stakes—which got me thinking about camping, and then campfires, and then my two-hundred-fifty-third favorite song, ‘Disco Inferno’, and then—”

“Pinkie…” Flitter cut in.

“…and of course,” Pinkie continued unabated, “the area of a circle is πr2, which reminded me…”

“Pinkie, that’s fascinating and all—”

“…if there are thirteen in a baker’s dozen, then how many in a caker’s dozen? And obviously the answer is…”

“—but what does it have to do with—”

“…which rhymes with look, and took, and brook, and…”

“—helping me slim down?”

Pinkie reared back and kicked her forehooves in the air as she concluded: “…which reminded me there might be an answer in one of Twilight’s books!”

Flitter shook her head. “Twilight’s books?” Her eyes widened. “You mean, some kind of magic spell?”

“Yup!” Pinkie returned to all four hooves and started walking around the thick pegasus. “So I went to Twilight’s library to find a spell to help you chase away that chub.” She poked Flitter as she walked, her hoof squishing deep into that soft stomach—then did it over and over as she continued, “Burn off that blubber. Freeze off that flab. Avert that adipose!”

Flitter rolled her eyes, her whole body wobbling as Pinkie’s repeated prodding traced her impressive circumference.

“And I found iiiiiiiiit!” Pinkie sing-songed, now leaning into Flitter’s belly fat as she continued circling.

“Well, that’s…” Flitter gulped. “I dunno how I feel about that. Since… Um, Pinkie, what are you doing?”

“Mmmm, mmmmm…” With her eyes closed and a big smile on her face, Pinkie outright nuzzled Flitter’s bloated girth, her cheeks rubbing up and down that soft belly fat. “I’m giving your chub a goodbye rub!” she said. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Um, okay?” A slight blush came to Flitter’s chubby cheeks.

Something whooshed through the air, and suddenly Pinkie was on top of Flitter, rolling back and forth across her extra-wide rear. “After all…” she continued, grabbing as much of Flitter’s haunch fat as she could with her forelegs, “…since you’re gonna be skinny again real soon, I gotta get my cuddle on now, while the cuddlin’s good.” She squeezed and laid her head down on the resulting pillow of pegasus chub. “Ahhhhhhhhh…”

“Ha! Makes sense, I guess.” Then Flitter smirked. “Wait… are you implying that I wasn’t a good cuddler before? You wound me, Pinkie!”

Pinkie just giggled into Flitter’s fat, before rolling onto her own back. “Of course not—that’d be ridiculous! We never cuddled when you were skinny.”

Pinkie kicked all four hooves in the air, and Flitter felt it clearly: every twitch of the smaller pony’s shoulders and haunches sent small waves rippling through the huge pegasus. Even Flitter’s face jiggled a bit, her blush growing brighter. Before she could second-guess herself, she said, “Then maybe we should give it a try, as soon as I’ve slimmed down to normal?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Flitter’s eyes widened, and her face burned even brighter. “Umm…”

“Sure!” Pinkie chirped. “Sounds fun! Speaking of which, I’ve been keeping you waiting, haven’t I?” She rose to her hooves and pranced over the expanse of Flitter’s back, towards her front. “You must be raring to go, right?”

“Well, actually…” Flitter sighed. “I’m not so sure about using unicorn magic to fix this problem.”

“Huh?” Pinkie came to a stop, atop Flitter’s thick withers.

“It’s just… I know Twilight’s really nice, and I’m sure she’s a great magician. But unicorn magic is so unpredictable. How can we be sure there won’t be some freaky side effect because—I don’t know—the spell needs her to think about blue mice, and she thinks about pink elephants instead?”

“Well, Twilight’s one of my best friends, and I trust her!” Pinkie jumped in place, bouncing atop Flitter’s shoulders as she continued, “She’s the one who put the cloudwalking spell on me, so I could come visit you here. And look how well that turned out!”

Flitter wobbled all over once again, shaken by Pinkie’s continued bouncing. “Still, I know that dieting and exercise will get me back to normal, eventually. But with magic, I just don’t—”

“Pleeeeeeeeeease?” Her hind legs perched on Flitter’s withers, Pinkie leaned over and hung her head down to look Flitter right in the eyes. She grabbed Flitter’s face—twice as wide as normal, thanks to those pudgy cheeks, but Pinkie had no trouble embracing them. They shook gently in Pinkie’s grip, as she continued, “Please please please please?”

“I really don’t—”

“Pretty pretty please, with oat sprinkles on top?”

Pinkie’s face was difficult to say “No” to, and grew moreso with every passing second. Flitter’s cheeks grew warmer as those pink hooves squished into them. “But—”

“Twilight and I double-checked the spell to make sure it works right! I Pinkie Promise there won’t be any weird side effects for you. Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye!” With one hoof, Pinkie mimed along with the words of her promise—and Flitter’s cheek wobbled slightly as that hoof pulled away.

Flitter sighed. Something about Pinkie’s words didn’t seem right, but she couldn’t put her hoof on it. “Fine…”

“Yippee!”

“Go get Twilight and have her cast that spell on me.”

“Oh, no need for that.” Pinkie leaped and spun in midair, landing on the shelf of Flitter’s gut. Her landing wobbled the obese pegasus, and she continued, “Twilight already cast the spell on me. You just need to set it off, then you’ll be skinny again, just like that!” Pinkie punctuated that with another slap against the belly below.

“Okay then. How do I set the spell off?”

“We kiss!”

Flitter’s eyes widened. “What?”

Pinkie only answer was to purse her lips, close her eyes, and grab Flitter’s cheeks once again.

“Oh,” Flitter said, a smile spreading across her chubby face. Closing her eyes as well, she leaned forward to meet Pinkie’s lips.

It was not an elegant kiss. Their muzzles mashed together, Flitter’s cheeks wobbling at the impact. But neither mare pulled away; in fact, Pinkie squeezed with her hooves and pulled Flitter’s face even tighter against her own. Flitter just moaned into Pinkie’s lips. They were softer than she remembered, and still pleasantly warm.

As Pinkie giggled, a slight tingle built up in Flitter’s lips, then quickly spread. It jolted along her spine, traveled down to her hooftips, and rippled through the fat of her huge flanks and massive belly. When the electricity had covered every square inch of Flitter’s colossal body, it changed to the sensation of a physical force—soft and gentle, like a bathrobe or blanket large enough to wrap snugly around all of her. And then it grew more snug—and then, outright tight.

Flitter’s eyes snapped open, as the pressure grew and grew. A magical aura—in beautiful, sparkling magenta—was wrapped all around her, and it squeezed. It squished against the mountain of fat that was her belly; it tightened around the enormous globes of her rump; it even constricted the thick sleeves of chub around her legs. Just as Flitter began to fear that it might squeeze all the air out of her lungs, the pressure stabilized. Then, every inch of her mammoth, chubby body jiggled and shifted.

Flitter began to shrink. The spell was working.

But Flitter wasn’t the only one affected by the spell. The magic aura lifted Pinkie a few inches into the air, without pulling her away from Flitter’s lips. Her pudgy belly shook slightly at the movement. Pinkie had always been a bit on the plump side: a constant diet of desserts ensured that she had a little extra padding on her frame and a little extra bounce in her step. But now she had a little bit more of each. Her belly grew thicker and rounder—an extra inch, and then another—while her backside began to widen.

The spell was magically removing the fat from Flitter—by transferring it to Pinkie.

—————

Half an hour ago…

“Uuuugh…” Pinkie slammed her face into the open book before her, the thunk echoing between the crystal walls. “Why is this so hard to find?”

She and Twilight Sparkle were seated in Twilight’s castle library. Great stacks of magic books crowded around them both—the resources for Pinkie’s impromptu research project.

Twilight Sparkle looked up from the volume she had been studying and gave her friend a reassuring pat on the withers. “Body modification magic is difficult to begin with. But if the spell you’re looking is out there, we’ll find it.”

“But there’s a huge demand for a spell like this, isn’t there? I mean, I don’t care that much about being skinny, but a lot of other mares do, right?”

“Yes. Other mares.”

“So you’d think somepony would have found a magic spell by now to make a pony thinner! What do we have instead?” Pinkie held up one book. “‘Barnabus’s Bloating Charm’!” She tossed that book away and grabbed another. “‘Knotworthy’s Horn of Plenty’!” Pinkie grabbed book after book as she continued reading off spell names. “‘Elastic Reality’s Balloonatic Blast’. ‘Very Berry’s Blueberry Spectacular’. ‘Alley Oop’s Helium Helper’. ‘Splat Bucket’s Better Living Through Cakeology’. ‘Wright-Horse’s Royal Jelly’. ‘Happy Full’!”

“Well, it’s not just magic.” Twilight held up the book she had been reading. “It’s in various fields of science, too: the cultivation of Poison Bloat; Twintails and Minty Candy’s research on P-235 and P-radiation; Blur Blot’s paper on atavism of winter weight in pegasi…”

“Darn it!” Pinkie threw her forelegs up, flinging every book in her grasp straight into the air. Twilight’s magic caught them before they could crash, then neatly sorted them with the stacks of already-read books.

“Still, now that you mention it,” Twilight continued, furrowing her brows, “that is pretty odd. So many ways to inflate or fatten ponies, but none to quickly make them thin again. Either there’s been some kind of systematic bias in our centuries of magical and scientific research—or there’s a mysterious, overarching cosmic force that wants ponies to be huge and round…”

“Aha!” Pinkie proclaimed, waving another book in the air. “I think I found it! See, see?”

Twilight glanced over the indicated page. “Pinkie, I don’t think this is going to work…”

—————

Flitter had lost about a few dozen pounds, barely a drop in the vast ocean of her body fat. But those same pounds had a significant effect on Pinkie. Her belly bulged out, like she had just eaten a particularly large meal, and it continued swelling farther. The balloons on her cutie mark jiggled, as pound after pound materialized on her haunches and rump. Pinkie was no longer plump; she was distinctly chubby and quickly approaching fat.

Pinkie giggled into Flitter’s mouth, as the magic spell continued packing the pounds on. She kicked her hind legs in pleasure—her backside bouncing atop, as it also grew wider and rounder. Her individual rump cheeks squished together in their continued expansion, jiggling all the while. Likewise, Pinkie’s cheeks puffed out with the first deposits of pudge, and even her shoulders and chest began softening with flab. Still, it was her belly that grew the most; it looked like Pinkie had just eaten an entire Marzipan Mascarpone Meringue Madness. That gut squished against the insides of her legs as it kept expanding, wobbling with every pleasured kick.

“Hhmmmmm…” Flitter moaned in contentment, as she felt the magic work all over her humongous body. For the past few days, her absurd weight had felt like being buried inside a mountain of thick blankets—and now, somepony was peeling away those blankets, one by one. She didn’t feel much different, yet, but the knowledge of her coming freedom was sweeter than the cream that had gotten Flitter into this mess in the first place.

Meanwhile, the hooves’ grip on Flitter’s face shifted slightly. Pinkie’s thickening chest flab was jostling her shoulders with its growth—and in turn her swelling, marshmallow-like shoulders tried to press her forearms out to the side. But those forelegs pressed back, both from Pinkie’s squeezing to keep her hold on Flitter, and from her limbs’ own growth, as they swelled with inch after inch of soft fat. Her hind legs and haunches thickened as well, with her fat pasterns squishing into the sides of her belly, even when her legs were still. Said belly bloated to twice Pinkie’s usual width, and then even wider; it would have hung nearly to the ground if she were standing on her hooves.

Flitter’s hooves, meanwhile, wiggled in the air from excitement, sending ripples through her huge body. Slowly, very slowly, she was regaining her mobility: her shoulders and haunches shrank, releasing her legs from their embrace, inch after inch. But those limbs were still engulfed nearly to the fetlocks; Flitter still had plenty of weight to lose.

Pinkie, though still dwarfed by Flitter’s immensity, was huge in her own right—and growing moreso by the second. Her tail waved in the air above an enormous rump, each cheek as wide as a normal pony and sagging slightly under its own weight. Below that, her stomach bulged between her legs, squishing around her limbs farther and farther. That belly was large enough to serve as Pinkie’s bed, and would have lifted all her hooves off the floor if she weren’t suspended in the air by magic. Even in this position, it pressed against Flitter’s gut below as it grew even fatter.

Flitter’s fat cheeks wobbled in Pinkie’s wavering hooves. Pinkie’s shoulders bloated larger and rounder, while her swelling chest fat squished outward from between them—both pressing harder against Pinkie’s forelegs with every passing second. She kept her grip on Flitter, somehow, but her hind legs were already losing their mobility. Her endlessly expanding gut pushed her back hooves up and out, and her thick haunches began to swallow her legs as they fattened even further. Her cutie marks stretched along with those haunches—they were nearly the size of real party balloons. Pinkie’s tail was already miniscule atop her growing rump: each individual cheek had the mass of an adult pony, and still they bloated even bigger.

Underneath, Pinkie’s belly pressed further into Flitter’s, squishing across those soft, lilac curves as she grew. Flitter’s gut only pressed back half-heartedly, instead shrinking in the face of the pink expansion. As she felt Pinkie spread—soft and warm—across her own retreating gut, Flitter couldn’t help but laugh into Pinkie’s lips.

Pinkie gave a short, happy moan in response, sending small vibrations through her own fat cheeks, already the size of melons and still thickening further. Her neck swelled, likewise—a collar of fat that had already formed a second chin and was now working on a third. It squished against the inches and inches of fat over her chest, which led down seamlessly to the even thicker flab of her stomach. That belly already was already packing as much fat as dozens upon dozens of MMMMs; it was twice Pinkie’s normal height and twice again as wide, and still that oversized pink marshmallow grew even more massive.

Flitter’s cheeks shrank a few inches more—and Pinkie’s forehooves lost their grip. Those pink legs snapped away and pointed nearly straight out from Pinkie’s sides. “Hmmhmmm…” She murmured as she tried to reach forward again, but her forelegs only flexed a few inches. Thick sleeves of fat padded her limbs—growing thicker by the second—while the bases were swallowed by the bloated doughnut shapes that had been her shoulders. Pinkie’s hooves already couldn’t reach the floor, and soon enough they wouldn’t be able to reach anything.

With Pinkie’s forelegs away from her face, Flitter could finally get a better look at Pinkie. But only a slightly better look—from this close, only a small fraction of Pinkie’s bulk could possibly be seen.

Oh, Flitter thought, as she finally understood just what this magic spell was doing. So that’s what Pinkie meant when she said there wouldn’t be any weird side effects for me.

Both bellies continued squishing together. Even as the magic burned away Flitter’s fat, Pinkie gained weight fast enough to make up the difference and fill the empty space—more than fast enough, in fact. Pinkie was somehow growing more quickly than Flitter could shrink.

Pinkie Pie’s belly brushed against the reinforced cloud below—then, as it grew even further, it fully rested on the floor and spread outward. For a brief moment, both ponies were the same size. And that was rather disconcerting, since Flitter was still fully two-thirds her starting size.

What the hay kind of spell is this? Flitter wondered, as her belly lost contact with the floor, lifted into the air by the magic aura.

—————

“Pinkie, I don’t think this is going to work,” Twilight said. “This is just an older version of Apple Bright’s Chubby Chaser. Another rapid weight-gain spell. You know, the opposite of what you’re looking for.”

“Yes, but look at how you cast it,” Pinkie said, slapping her forehoof onto the page. “Under ‘material components’ it says: ‘the fat of one stout mare or stallion, to serve as fuel.’ You see, Twilight? Not as a catalyst, as fuel.”

“Oh.” Twilight’s eyes widened, and she scanned the page quickly. “You’re right! It isn’t how Apple Bright intended for anypony to use his spell, but you actually could use this to remove large quantities of somepony’s excess fat.”

“Great!” Pinkie stood up and marched over in front of Twilight. “Cast it on me, so I can use it to make Flitter thin again!”

“Um, Pinkie?” Twilight gulped. “You realize the thinning is just a side-effect, right?”

“Yeah, of course. All the weight Flitter loses will get magically transferred to me!”

“Not just transferred. Multiplied. However fat Flitter is right now, you’re going to end up four times as big, if I cast this spell.”

“Yeah? What’s wrong with that?” Pinkie stepped forward until her nose was inches away from Twilight’s. “Are you worried about my weight, Twilight? That’s nice of you, but…”

“No, no, it’s just…” Twilight blushed. “Is there some catch? Is this a prank?”

“If this were, it’d be weird and not very funny.” Pinkie furrowed her brows. “Twilight, do you think all my pranks are weird and not very funny?”

“You really want me to cast a spell that will make you a big ball of blubber?”

“You don’t need to talk me into it, silly! I’ve already made up my mind.”

Twilight allowed herself to smile. “Alright, then.” Her horn lit up as she charged the spell. “Can I come see you, after you’re done?”

Pinkie smiled right back. “If this spell works as well as you say, it’ll be hard for you not to see me!”

—————

“Hhrrrmm…” Flitter reached forward, straining against her bloated shoulders and the sleeves of fat on her forelegs—which both gave less resistance as they shrank with every passing second. Eventually, she could brush her hooves against Pinkie’s face. Then, Flitter grasped Pinkie’s cheeks, holding their faces together just as Pinkie had done before.

In this position, Flitter could feel as Pinkie’s face grew fatter—her cheeks squishing against those hooves with their continued expansion. At the same time, more fur brushed against the other side of Flitter’s hooves: the immense fat of Pinkie’s torso was swallowing her neck. And Pinkie’s forelegs continued sinking into her bloating shoulders in the same way—up to the knees by now—while her expanding haunches reached nearly to her hind pasterns. Those haunches were thick enough to be a bed for a normal-sized pony; as they expanded even further, Pinkie’s cutie marks stretched to the size of bed sheets.

While Pinkie’s shape disappeared further under ever-thickening layers of round flab, Flitter was beginning to resemble herself again, slowly but surely. The fat of her withers slowly released her neck. Her legs emerged farther and farther from her shoulders and haunches as they shrank. Reveling in her newfound freedom, Flitter tried to kick her hind legs—and those hooves just bounced against her belly, still the height of two ponies. Though her haunches and rump shrank—the dragonflies on her cutie mark were merely the size of hawks by this point—they were still fat enough to wobble at the motion.

And that shaking carried through Flitter’s forelegs, to Pinkie’s fattening face—and then the rest of Pinkie’s gigantic body, which jiggled and rippled as it expanded even larger. Her cheeks were each larger than her head. They squished forward as the thick circle of fat around her neck—now merging with her torso—pressed against the back of her head and the base of her jaw. Pinkie’s forelegs had disappeared up to the pasterns; only the very tips of her hind hooves still poked out of her bloating haunches. Underneath, her gut widened farther and farther, spreading across the floor, until it pressed into Flitter’s cloud mattress, bulging around its edges. If she were resting directly on that mattress, her belly would squish over all four sides, just like Flitter’s had before. Pinkie’s stomach grew to four times a normal pony’s height—she was a hill of pink blubber, the same size Flitter had been before this magic spell—and still she grew even larger.

Pinkie gave one final kick with her hind hooves, barely moving them an inch, and then the fat of her haunches engulfed them completely. Those hips, swollen so large that her cutie marks now resembled trios of weather balloons, bobbed and jiggled from their place atop Pinkie’s ever-expanding gut. Said belly spread like a doughy glacier underneath, pushing Flitter’s cloud mattress into the wall with its continued growth. On the other side, that humongous blob of a stomach bulged around the only other furniture in the room—the folding table, a chair, a small bookcase with a gramophone on top—quickly enveloping them in the sea of pink pudge. Pinkie’s gut, bearing as much fat as thousands upon thousand of cakes, already covered a third of the room’s huge floor space, and still it spread even more.

Flitter worked her wings, noting with joy how much less her body jiggled with every flap. Her legs were freed from their flabby prisons; her belly was merely large enough to force her legs outward and rest on the floor. And then Flitter murmured apprehensively at the tightness around her forehooves. She was still gripping Pinkie’s face, barely holding onto a pair of pudgy cheeks wider than most ponies’ rumps. But as Pinkie’s withers and neck bulged even further, expanding around her head like enormous lumps of bread dough, they pinned Flitter’s forehooves in place.

“Hrrm!” Flitter muttered into Pinkie’s lips, trying in vain to pull her legs free. Her hooves would slide out a few inches—then that pink doughnut of fat would spread forward a few inches as well. Pinkie’s head was sinking into her own torso and pulling Flitter in with her, almost as fast as Flitter was pulling herself out. “Hrrm! Mrrmm!” Flitter jerked and yanked—making Pinkie’s fat face bounce and the rest of her body wobble and shake—as she slowly extracted her hooves from the hungry pink crevice.

Pinkie just giggled into Flitter’s mouth, as her whole body jiggled and rippled and just kept growing. Her forehooves disappeared completely into the oversized marshmallows at her sides. Now, the only evidence that she’d once possessed legs were infolded divots, each in the centers of the fat doughnuts that used to be her shoulders and haunches. Her individual rump cheeks—bouncing and slapping against each other as her body shook—were larger than a college freshmare’s dorm room. And those were still dwarfed by that titanic belly: a hill of pink flab, lifting Pinkie above the floor to five times her old height, then six times. That blubber covered two-thirds of the floor; it spread completely over Flitter’s mattress, pressing it down into the cloud floor; it bulged more and more tightly around the furniture pinned against the opposite wall, and still it expanded to mind-boggling sizes.

Once Flitter’s own belly had finally shrunk enough, she placed her hind hooves on Pinkie’s chest flab and used that as leverage. She pushed with her back legs—her hooves sinking six inches, then a full foot, into that soft, pink pudge—as she pulled on her forelegs. “Hrrrrrrgg…” she said, grunting right into Pinkie’s mouth, as she strained with all her might. Then, with a soft pop! her hooves sprang free from the rolls of neck fat that were still swallowing Pinkie’s head.

“Whoa!” Flitter fell backwards, finally breaking the kiss as she tumbled away from Pinkie—then the magic aura caught her. After reorienting the pegasus, it mashed her muzzle firmly back into Pinkie’s, allowing the body weight transfer to resume.

“Mmmmm…” Pinkie moaned contentedly, as she resumed growing fatter and fatter. Her neck and torso bulged all around her head—above, below, and on both sides, forming a small cave of pink flab about her. Underneath, more and more fat grew on her titanic belly. That mountain of adipose had spread far enough to squish against three walls of the room, and only a few feet separated it from the remaining wall. Flitter’s mattress, buried underneath Pinkie’s flab, was flattened into a cloud rug. Crushed between that pink gut and the wall, the table creaked in defeat and broke into splinters, followed quickly by the chair, then the bookcase—each piece of furniture’s demise sending ripples across the gigantic globe of Pinkie’s still-expanding belly.

Meanwhile, Flitter’s eyes widened, as the magic aura tightened once more around her whole body. “Hrrmm! Hmmm!” she protested into Pinkie’s mouth. Suddenly, the magic squeezed—hard enough to force the breath from her lungs. Just as suddenly, the grip eased up, freeing Flitter to suck in a few breaths.

And then Flitter found herself jerked backwards, as the magic aura pulled her out of the kiss once again. Hovering in the air, she had the presence of mind to hold her wings at the ready, just in case she dropped. And from this position, several feet back from Pinkie, Flitter could better take in the sight of the pink behemoth that her friend had become. Pinkie’s face was barely visible—sunken a few feet into the fat of her torso, and obscured behind a pair of cheeks, each as wide as an ordinary pony’s entire rump. Her shoulders and haunches were doughnut-shaped lumps of lard, several times a pony’s height in diameter. Her rump cheeks were smooth pink hills, large enough to accommodate multiple picnicking families. And supporting all of that—lifting her up to just a few inches shy of the ceiling—was the squashed globe of that stupefyingly huge belly. Before the magic spell, Flitter had possessed feet-thick layers of fat; Pinkie Pie’s largest deposits were stories thick. Enough energy to feed the rest of Equestria for months was stored in that titanic stomach as pure blubber.

“In the name of Celestia…” Flitter whispered.

Then the magic spell dissipated, its work complete. Both ponies were released from the aura’s grip. Flitter remembered to flap her wings. Pinkie, of course, lacked wings—and at her size, they wouldn’t have done her any good, anyway.

One second, Pinkie was there. The next, Pinkie was gone, and the entire floor with her.

“Crud!” Flitter muttered, then she dove after the falling pony on pure instinct.

Pinkie had a few seconds’ head start, but she also had a huge surface area, so friction would slow her fall significantly. Flitter, on the other hoof, could minimize her drag and flap for extra downward acceleration. So catching up with Pinkie was no trouble at all.

“Wheeeeeeeeeeee!” Pinkie shouted, as Flitter zoomed by.

Once Flitter had gained a sufficient lead, she slowed to a hover—stopping right in place to intercept Pinkie’s fall. “Don’t worry, Pinkie!” she shouted up at the pink blob dropping towards her. “I’ll catch you!”

Flitter had just enough time to realize that she may have made a mistake—and then she found herself plastered to the underside of that huge belly, still falling at a worrying speed.

Seconds later, Pinkie impacted the ground.

—————

Ponyville locals tell interesting stories about this day. They claim that they heard a sound like a mining explosion, or another battle between Twilight Sparkle and some villain. That every building and most of the trees leaped at least ten feet into the air. That the local geography changed after that day: hills where valleys used to be, streams flowing the opposite direction from before, and entire new veins of gemstones opened up.

There are even stories that tables shook and teacups rattled as far away as Canterlot.

—————

Pinkie bounced a few times before coming to rest. She lay there, in the middle of a shallow crater that used to be a grassy field. The nearest Ponyville houses were visible just over the rim.

“That was fun!” Pinkie shouted. “Let’s do that again, Flitter!”

Naturally, there was no answer from Flitter.

“Flitter? Hey, Flitter!” Pinkie tried to look around. But with her head sunken into her own body fat, turning her neck even an inch proved impossible. “Huh? Flitter, where are you?” Then her face lit up. “Oh, I know where you’re hiding!”

Pinkie closed her eyes and grunted. Then, through some means known only to Pinkie—some obscure contortion of muscles under her tons of body fat—she rolled over, onto her back. When her mountainous belly faced the sky, it exposed a lilac-colored patch in the shape of a pony, utterly miniscule against Pinkie’s vastness. Flitter, now flat as a sheet of paper, was stuck tightly to that titanic gut.

She blinked a few times. Then a sudden ripple of stomach fat shook her into the air, where Flitter freely fluttered like a flag with no flagpole. But before the breeze could carry her too far away, Pinkie caught her—wrapping her strangely prehensile mane around one flattened forehoof.

“What were you doing under there, silly?” Pinkie asked her pancaked friend.

Flitter still couldn’t answer, her pupils bouncing around inside her two-dimensional eyes.

Pinkie rolled back over onto her belly, and Flitter flapped helplessly in her mane’s grip. Once she was upright again, Pinkie continued, “Wow, that spell’s even more powerful than Twilight said. It wasn’t supposed to make you this skinny!”

Flitter’s eyes finally straightened out. She flashed a wry smile at Pinkie.

“But don’t you worry one bit! Auntie Pinkie Pie knows just how to fix this…” Then Pinkie opened her mouth and took a deep breath.

Flitter arched an eyebrow in silent confusion. But when Pinkie’s mane wrapped around her neck, and brought their faces closer together, realization dawned. Flitter’s eyes widened, and she tried to flail her legs—but in their flattened state, all they could do was flop ineffectually.

Pinkie closed her eyes, clamped her lips against Flitter’s one more time, and blew.

First, Flitter’s head puffed up, regaining its third dimension in just a few seconds. Her torso and rump soon followed—then her legs, one by one, and finally her wings. Soon enough, Flitter was back to her normal shape.

But Pinkie kept blowing. And for the third time this week, Flitter felt the first stings of her body’s stretching to accommodate Pinkie’s in-rushing breath—as her torso surpassed its normal diameter and continued inflating. “Nnnmm! Nrrrmm!” Flitter tried to protest, through cheeks puffing up big as baseballs—her voice muffled by soft pink lips pumping yet more warm air into her. Her backside squeaked almost as loud as her voice, as her inflating rump cheeks rubbed together like a pair of party balloons. Flitter kicked her legs and beat her wings, while her torso swelled to twice its usual size, and then beyond.

Several more lungfuls of Pinkie’s breath rushed down Flitter’s throat. Her body was already large enough to fit two or three beach balls inside, and still it inflated even more. She flapped frantically, trying to pull herself away from Pinkie—but the curly, pink mane held her tightly against Pinkie’s lips, ensuring no air escaped. Flitter clapped her forehooves against the pink behemoth and shoved with all her strength, but her legs sank halfway into Pinkie’s flab; her futile struggling just made Pinkie jiggle and wobble as she pumped even more air into Flitter.

“Nrrrrmmmm!” As Flitter protested in vain, a blush spread across her cheeks, now soccer ball-sized. The air from Pinkie filled every cubic inch of Flitter’s expanding body—adding more cubic inches to her by the second—and spread a surprisingly pleasant warmth from her head to her hooves to the tips of her feathers. It was as if the feeling of Pinkie’s kiss had infused Flitter’s entire being.

And along with that kiss, another familiar sensation filled Flitter’s hind legs, as more and more air rushed into them. Soon enough—Fwoomp! Fwoomp!—those legs swelled up twice as thick and stuck straight out from her haunches. “Hhrrm! Nrrrrmm!” Flitter flailed her forelegs for a few seconds longer, her hooves beating against Pinkie’s flabby chest, squishing into its softness and sending ripples across that mountainous body. And then the same stiffness from Flitter’s hind legs spread to her front ones: Fwoomp! Her left leg inflated and then—Fwoomp!—her right soon followed. Her wings flapped one last time before trembling, then—Fwoomp! Fwoomp! Fwoomp!—they also stuck straight out, her individual feathers inflating one-by-one. Fwoomp! Fwoomp! Fwoomp!

Then, with two softer fwoomps, Flitter’s ears poofed up—forming small, pointy balloons on the sides of her head. And she whimpered, waggling her puffy limbs the few inches they could still move—already, they were sinking into her swollen shoulders and haunches. Her whole body was filling with air; her shoulders, chest, and back were all rounding out. All the while, her body ballooned larger and larger, her diameter growing to three times her normal height, and then right past it.

And still Pinkie kept blowing, showing off a lung capacity that would have been downright impossible for any other pony. Whole cubic yards of Pinkie’s breath rushed into Flitter, filling the pegasus to sizes that brought back unpleasant memories—five times her old height and beyond. Her sides and belly swelled outward, inch after inch, foot after foot. Her torso bulged out so far, it began to swallow her neck; her inflating withers squeaked as they brushed against the back of her puffy cheeks. Her wings squeaked as well, the feathers brushing against each other as they grew into long, oval balloons.

Flitter’s entire body grew more spherical as she inflated to seven times her old height, then even larger. Shoulders, haunches, and rump: all were slowly merging with the huge balloon of her torso. Her puffed-up legs were sunken halfway into her bloating sides. Her neck had been swallowed completely, and now Flitter’s torso bulged over her head and around her cheeks in its continued expansion. Only her wings were spared from this assimilation; they bulged out further and further as yet more air rushed into them.

Flitter’s eyes widened even further as her cheeks—each puffed up larger than her head—squished inward, squeezed as her own torso bulged around them in its relentless growth. “Nmmmmmm!” she cried, but the rest of her body nearly drowned out her voice. Her inflated legs squeaked as they sank to their hooves into her sides, all the while frantically wiggling as far as that ballooning torso would let them. Her wings squeaked even louder: the individual feathers brushed against each other as they filled with more and more air, inexorably swelling into thicker, rounder balloons. And from their place atop the curve of Flitter’s back, those puffy wings wobbled further with even the slightest breeze.

More and more, Pinkie blew—relentlessly pumping up Flitter, with no end in sight. The balloon that had once been a pegasus swelled to nine times her old height, then surged beyond. The dragonflies of her cutie mark were as large as adult ponies, stretching farther along the massive curves that had been her haunches. Her hooves disappeared completely into her ballooning torso, each squeaking one last time as her sides bulged completely around them. Above, even her smallest feathers were swollen enough to contain a stallion comfortably, and still her wings inflated even larger. Below, her belly expanded far enough to sidle up to the front of Pinkie’s mammoth gut—then press into that pink flab with its continued growth. Pinkie jiggled and wobbled at the touch, and kept breathing more and more air into Flitter.

“Nrrrrrrrmmm!” Flitter was a lilac blimp now, almost as mind-bogglingly massive as the pink land-whale inflating her. Her overstretched body was nearly spherical, with only four infolded divots on her sides to mark where she’d once had legs. Her head was over halfway swallowed by the swollen curves that had once been her withers. Her wings towered in the air, wobbling back and forth as those feathers swelled even thicker and blunter. Every uncountable square inch of Flitter squeaked and creaked, as she stretched farther and farther to contain the endless volume of Pinkie’s breath, filling her larger and larger. “Nrrmmmmmm!”

And then, finally, Pinkie stopped. She closed her lips and released her mane-grip on Flitter. The pegasus-turned-blimp—larger than a two-story house, with wings inflated so large they nearly touched the foundation of her own cloud-home—just stared back with dazed eyes. For a few seconds, she lazily bounced backwards, away from Pinkie. Then she opened her mouth.

“Pbtpbptbtbtbtpbt!” Flitter shot backwards, then turned and spun in the air—spewing and sputtering all the while from the air rushing out her lips. She zoomed and whirled; she twisted and twirled; she pulled mad loop-de-loops as her rapid deflation propelled her through the sky. As she shrank closer to her normal size, she turned back towards Pinkie.

“Pbtpbptbtbtbt—Ooomph!” Flitter crashed into a slope and stuck there—a very soft, squishy slope. “Uugh, stop the cart. I wanna get off…” she muttered, massaging her head with her forehooves. Then she paused, shook her head, and felt around her own face more intently. She felt nothing out of the ordinary: no chubby cheeks, no double chin, no inflated ears. Flitter looked intently at her forelegs, and they were normal, too: no air inside them, no sleeves of fat around them. Flapping her wings confirmed that she once more had thin feathers to slice the air, not bulbous feathers full of air. And her belly… actually still had a bit of chub. It was just enough of a paunch for her hooves to squish into. Likewise, her hips were a little wider, and her rump a little softer, than they’d been before the whipped cream incident. But it wasn’t anything Flitter couldn’t fix with a bit of diet and exercise. Thankfulness—the genuine article, not thankfulness under duress—swelled up within Flitter’s no-longer-swollen chest.

“Oh my gosh, Pinkie, it feels so good to be back to my right size again!” Then Flitter glanced around, finally taking in exactly where she was. From her perch on this round hillside, Flitter was higher than the roofs of the nearest houses. The hill itself was remarkably soft; her backside squished in several inches where she sat. She was in the middle of a baby-blue patch stretching hundreds of feet in every direction, surrounded by a vast field of pink: a party balloon cutie mark, stretched to the size of a hot-air balloon. “Oh, Pinkie…”

Flitter launched into the air—Pinkie’s gigantic haunch jiggling at her takeoff—and flew to the other side of the chub mountain. There, she found the nook where Pinkie’s head had sunk about two feet into her own body fat. Fortunately, Pinkie’s enormously chubby cheeks pushed back against the encroaching flab, and stopped it from closing completely over her head.

“Pinkie!” Flitter called, as she landed on the floor formed by the front of Pinkie’s belly.

“Flitter!” Pinkie replied. “Are you okay? Did it work?”

“Am I okay?” Flitter’s hind legs gave out, dropping her to a sitting position—the impact sending ripples through PInkie. “Am I okay? What about you, Pinkie? You’re… you’re...”

“Uh, pink?” Pinkie suggested.

“You’re huge! Beyond huge!” Flitter spread her forelegs, as if trying to encompass all of her friend’s immensity. “Pinkie, they’ll need to invent new words to describe how fat you are!”

Pinkie’s face lit up. “How about gigafat? Or maybe jumbo chumbo? Thick, but spelled with three C’s? Oh! Oh! I’ve got it! Super-chubby-fattylicious-extra-adiposious!”

“You’re crazy.” Flitter snorted. “Did you knowbeforehoof that the spell would do this to you?”

Pinkie rolled her eyes. “Pssh, yeah, of course.”

“You’re crazy. And I think you deserve a hug.”

“Aw, thanks!”

Flitter dropped to her belly and crawled forward, into the pink cave. Pinkie’s cheeks were far too wide for Flitter to possibly wrap her forelegs around them both, so instead she tried to reach under, to Pinkie’s neck. She pushed her forehooves once again into the squishy crevice between Pinkie’s head and the encroaching fat of her bloated torso. As Flitter reached deeper, Pinkie wobbled at the movement and giggled several times.

Eventually, Flitter’s legs were submerged up to the shoulders, and her head was squished into Pinkie’s right cheek. “Uh, Pinkie? I can’t quite reach.”

“That’s alright!” Pinkie chirped. “This still feels nice.”

Of course, Pinkie was immobilized, too encased in her own fat to possibly hug back. But her blubber embraced Flitter all on its own—her cheeks and withers squeezing around Flitter’s forelegs, and her belly fat allowing the rest of Flitter to sink in a few inches—and that was almost like a hug.

“Yeah,” Flitter said, nuzzling Pinkie’s enormous cheek, like an oversized pillow. “This is nice.”

They stayed like that for a short while.

Eventually, Flitter broke the silence. “So, Pinkie… You’re huge now. Do you have a plan to get back to normal, or are you just gonna stay this fat forever?”

Pinkie beamed. “Oh, that’s easy! My metabolism is crazy. I should be able to walk again in two months or so.”

Flitter wore a sly grin, even though Pinkie couldn’t see it. “Oh. That long, huh?” She pulled one foreleg free and leaned harder into that huge cheek, until she felt Pinkie’s chub push back. “Well, I was thinking maybe I could help you with that, Pinkie. I don’t think I can help you ‘budge this pudge,’ but for the next two months I could help you do everything else that needs doing.”

“Ooooh! Everything else?”

“Oh, you know.” Flitter grabbed as much cheek fat as she could between her forelegs and squeezed, resting her head atop the impromptu pillow of Pinkie chub. “Everything you can’t do yourself because you’re—what was the phrase?—‘a big, cute, squishy, round, cute ball of chubby-chub!’” Flitter let go, and as Pinkie’s face wobbled against her, she traced small circles in that cheek fur with one hoof. “I can set up the gramophone when you want to listen to music. I can read aloud for you when you want a good book. I can help bring your food when it’s dinner time. And when it’s shower time—” Flitter leaned into that cheek again and lowered her voice, “—I can rinse you off and scrub down every last inch of your huge, cute body. So? How does that sound?”

Pinkie blinked. “You said ‘cute’ a bunch. Are you flirting with me?”

“Yes! Yes, I am.” Flitter pulled away, then sat down directly in front of Pinkie—her slightly chubby rump sinking once more into the exponentially larger belly below. “You made me feel things, Pinkie. Things I don’t really get, yet, but I’d like to see where this goes. Besides, I still owe you some good cuddles. And also I’m curious about whether we can kiss without one of us blowing up like a balloon.”

Pinkie smiled, and even that simple motion made her oversized cheeks jiggle. “You make a very convincing case. Let’s do it.”

“Thanks.” Flitter gave another quick nuzzle to Pinkie’s right cheek, then pulled back. She lifted off, hovering a few feet in front of Pinkie. “First things first, we need to get you home.”

Her eyes travelled up and down Pinkie’s gigantic form, and she added, “I have no idea how to do that.”