"Look at that. You'd swear she was eating the air she breathes."
Canterlot was a city of many sights, a landmark known by so many that its mere silhouette against the mountain was considered a blessing to glance by anybody living near. Every day, every manner of ponies, griffons, humans, minotaur, or even curious changelings in disguise would clamor out of the train station with looks of awe and wonder, plenty of monuments and stops waiting beyond the gates to please each and every taste. Sights such as the cavernous, crimson-tinted corridors of the Unicron Theater, the skyscraping paintings and sculptures that towered over the visitors and curators of the Canterlot Museum, or hundreds of shelves spreading along every wall to Starswirl the Bearded's final library, weighed down by the ink and paper of tomes that catalogued centuries worth of thoughts from the city’s most brilliant minds.
It was none of those sights, however, that made one stare. Bask, maybe, but not stand locked in place as the rest of the world turned into a colorful mush, their brains going slack to their surroundings. Not go deaf to any bystanders trying to snap them out of their trance, assuming they themselves weren't affixed, as well.
None, that is, except for Princess Celestia.
"Oh, like you're one to talk, lambchop." Stuart jaded, poking a finger deep into the corpulent stallion's middle.
Hot Pocket smacked his arm away, sparing him a contemptuous glare as he rubbed a hand underneath his pronounced gut. "Well, let's not deny the fact that I'd be the size of a house, too, if it wasn't for her eating everything in sight!" He thrust a finger out over the balcony, pointing towards the sugary-smelling buffet down below. "Working around a boss like that has got to be the best diet program in Equestria!"
By the rampant sound coming from below of teeth ripping through pastry and cream, occasionally mixed with cutesy hums of pleasure, many of the rest of staff wouldn't cringe at the statement. With a face and cheeks as round as a doughnut, the solar monarch's plump lips were tugged in a smile giddied just by licking the last traces of frosting from the dimples of her fingers, each fattened into a doughy nub large enough to fill her entire mouth every time she sucked them clean. Either side of the titanic princess was guarded by banquet tables stretching from one end of the dining hall to the other, each covered by layers of pink tablecloth to shield them from tightly spaced platters carrying weighty piles of doughnuts, cakes, eclairs, cookies, pies, or whatever else could drench the chamber in the scent of sugar. All doomed to be left in a destroyed wake of emptied plates and fruity stains as the princess lumbered by, constantly exercising her arms by having to keep them going to and fro for her hungry chops to be left with something to sink their teeth into, always fighting against both the perpetually expanding layer of blubber swaddled around her arms and a colossal set of tits ballooning an extra hair's width with every bite she took, her bustline currently massive enough to be snugly crammed into a sofa.
...and that was just from the chest up. Down below, her stomach exploded outwards from her torso and completely smothered the tiled floor before her feet in a leviathanic orb of white, a historical monument commiserating the trillions of other savory treats ended by her. Standing in at over ten feet tall, she was yet to meet a pony in all her life who she didn't completely tower over, putting most of her subjects at eye level with her copious tush. Namely any attending staff 'lucky' enough to aid her whenever she was on travel, having to push or pull whenever the princess' vast backside got wedged in deceptively wide doorways or arches.
"Just so you know, it's going to be really satisfying when I'm not the one getting chewed out for slacking."
Stuart and Hot Pocket both managed to break away from the show to glance back at their now lone coworker, who carried an exasperated look that he kept trained on the floor he was mopping.
Stuart leaned back against the guardrail, stretching his arms out. "Lighten up, man, it's not like we're saying anything that nobody thought the very moment they'd met her."
"Keyword being thought, Stuart." Miles retorted, wringing out his mop.
"Ah, c'mon, you think somebody that'd banished Nightmare Moon and Discord really has the time to care about everybody talking about how fat she is?" Hot pocket challenged, taking his mop to join in. "I guarantee, if Celestia actually did care about every little giggle she heard, half the entire country would be hanged by tomorrow morning."
"...and is half the entire country standing in the same room as her? In earshot?"
"Well, excuse us for being organisms prone to emotion and free thought, then!" Stuart whined, stepping away from the two.
"Well, 'freely think' all you want about how great it'd be to still have a job after you're sitting out in front of the castle with hoofprints on your ass," Miles grabbed Stuart's mop up off the floor, thrusting it out in front of him. "But maybe you could actually do your fucking job so I can actually have free time when I get home?"
But it only became harder for Miles not to smack Stuart across the face with it when the latter grumbled, turning his head the other way. "Well, excuse me for trying to have fun on the job."
"Oh, well, I'm really sorry, then, Stuart!" Miles whooped. Hearing him from further away, Hot Pocket glanced uneasily as Miles took both mops and loudly slammed their heads down on the floor, with Stuart flinching back as water splashed their faces. "Yep, I'm sure having fun on the job, wasting time doing butt nothing until we're left with one hour to complete our shift! Come on, let's go back so I can listen to you guys yuck it up over babes, trucks, and how fat the biggest pony in Equestria is who, psh, on the tiny chance that I end up provoking her, could leave the guys after us to mop my flattened corpse up off the floor!!!"
"...I beg your pardon?"
Stuart and Hot Pocket both shut up, faces sinking into that regret and fear Miles should've eaten up, but the air chilled a few less degrees beneath a wide, arching shadow eclipsed by a figure that the pair locked their eyes on, standing just behind him.
Jittering in place, Miles turned around, where his elbow brushed against a soft, plush surface standing only a breath away from his back, but he recoiled from the pillowy flesh with a shriek. He shivered as he tried to look up at what he expected to be Celestia's face, but all he could see past her protrusive stomach was the very front of her breasts and some of her sky-colored hair floating somewhere above.
After a second or two, the princess craned her head forward to see him past her colossal body. It wasn't rage carved her features, but the lack of ANY kind of an emotion somehow terrified Miles even more.
"Y-Your highness...!" He stammered, suddenly feeling like he'd been shrunk by three feet. "I...I..."
"Miles," Celestia began, speaking with nary a huff or wheeze to scuff her stern tone. "I like to think my palace is a space where everypony inside can feel safe from feeling disrespected or judged unfairly, and I find it disturbing that you find it easy to mock my weight in such a casual tone. What excuse do you have for acting in such a way, and in the same room as I am, no less?"
"B-but I..." Miles choked out. "I..."
"H-He didn't mean it that way, Princess!" Hot Pocket butted in. "Stuart and I were-"
The Princess raised a hand, cutting him off. "Your desire to take the blame is commendable, Hot Pocket, but I can't allow it. Miles has broken a discrete, very simple rule amongst castle staff, and thus I have to punish him."
"P-Punish?!" Miles squeaked.
"He doesn't deserve to be punished, Princess!" Stuart begged. "He was jus-"
"I'd be doing the same for anybody treating him the same way, Stuart." She punctuated. "I myself wouldn't feel my castle was being run fairly and without bias if I spared somebody their proper discipline, and I refuse to let myself see otherwise. As such," Celestia's horn encased itself in an aura of yellow light, and Miles could fell the air tingle with an energy that made the hairs on his skin stand on end. "I must see him in my private quarters."
The last Miles heard of Stuart and Hot was them uttering one last vowel of objection before the glimmers twinkling around him and Celestia flared up into a blinding patch of silver light, all other sound muting out into a deathly silence. After flinching at the initial glare, Miles found the heavenly glow to be a soothing sight to behold, but any ease it brought faded just as quickly as the light itself when Celestial relaxed her horn. Looking around, he could see the two of them now stood alone in a rather queen-sized bedroom, the gigantic bed and doorways all undoubtedly tailored to someone of Celestia's physique. An enormous set of windowed doors sat on the wall opposite to the door, overlooking what he had a decent hunch was the spot where she raised the sun and moon, but the room was so barren of outside sound that it may have been brick walls surrounding them, with even the tiniest breath shattering the silence from across the room.
"Princess Celestia, please!" Miles pleaded to her, throwing his hands up and sinking to his knees. "I'm sorry! I wasn't trying to direct what I said to you, I promise!"
"Assuming that to be true, your sentiment is one that I wish not to spread amongst the castle staff." She countered, craning her behind upward so she could lower it down on the end of the bed, a network of levers and gears built under the frame that all turned and flexed in unison beneath her immensity, keeping everything from flattening.
Clearly beyond the realm of hope, Miles let his arms drop, his head drooping forward. "So...what next?"
"Well, I consider this to be a misdemeanor, at worst, but," The Princess' horn lit up again, eyes shutting to focus the aura into a complex web of sparks and ribbons of light spinning at the very tip. "As with all my punishments, I intend to make it fair."
"Fair?"
Before Miles could get any more indication, the Princess let the magic fly free, the ball of energy honing in on Miles and flying straight into his chest. Despite being made of magic, Miles flew back in recoil, but in the midst of his fall, he could feel the world slow down into a crawl, the mere seconds he should've taken to hit the floor stretched several times as long. While his mind and nerves remained as keen as ever, his limbs were just as slow to respond to his will for them to move, all sound turning into a deafened blur. With his eyes moving as slow as molasses, he could only stare at the glowing circle of magic spreading along his chest, which gave a brief pulse before spreading out with against the slowed passage of time, his body enveloped by solid light that sucked away all the feeling in his chest, coursing outwards from his torso like he was disintegrating from the inside out.
The numbness devoured his torso, then spread along his limbs till all he could feel were the very tips of his fingers and toes, followed by his jaw vanishing before he felt the emptiness flow up his neck and into his head...
...she killed me.
As the blood started pumping inside of his brain again, his nerves accustoming to the plush, lavender-smelling softness that his body lay upon, that was all he could draw on what'd happened, considering that not even the Princess' bed could've been soft enough to match the silky quality of the ground, let alone anything else in the room.
With his head aching too much for him to feel angry, all he could do was sit upright and massage his brow, eyes stinging at the bright colors that overwhelmed his surroundings. All he could see though his bleary was a horizon made of a pure white, an amorphous sky striped out of blue, green, and pink floating above.
Can't say it's Tartarus, at least. He mused. Assuming I'm not alone, then...huh. Maybe this won't be so...
But it was with a turn of his head that Miles jolted in surprise, seeing his first sign of shape or form to the world. That being a gigantic pair of pink eyes caked with black eyeliner and a golden arch sitting above their brow, the rest of the face obscured by the sheer white of their skin.
Rubbing his eyelids, Miles spared himself one last chance to keep them shut, to wish it all away and wake up in bed, able to laugh it all off and treat it as a little Aesop to learn off of, but upon peeling his hands away, Celestia's face still remained there, a smile spread across her porky cheeks as she stared right back, her face now so big that he was only as tall as the front of her muzzle.
"There we go." She mused. "Now I'm the biggest pony you'd ever seen!"
