Or: How one Pegasi learned to stop worrying and Love the Pie.
"It's an exceptionally severe wing sprain Mr. Soarin'. I know you came to me for a second opinion, but your team doctor was right. It's going to be a month and a half before you can think about going up in the air, let alone trying to do all those high-performance stunts. I'm sorry, but that's final. Take some time and try and relax! You've certainly been a wonderbolt for plenty long enough, now that you're here in ponyville, try and relax a little! I hear Pinkie over in sugarcube corner makes the best pies Anywhere."
Soarin tried to keep a happy face, but ended up walking away dejected, muttering "I'll just go get one pie. It won't hurt..."
Soarin had managed to throw himself wrong in the air during practice, and it ended in a rather painful looking crash. While his legs were fine, his wings bore the brunt of the damage and were immediately put in some casts. Meeting with Spitfire had been a little bittersweet, she had plenty of first-hoof experience in this sort of thing.
"Look, It's gonna be awhile before you're in flight. I'm renting you a house in Ponyville, it's all grounded so you won't have too much of an impulse to fly, and if the pegasus curse happens to you too, then it's a decent place to live. I'm sorry, but that's gotta be final."
The so called 'Pegasus Curse' hit a lot of former performers and athletes. The basics of performing were hard on Every equestrian athlete, but PEgasi required so much more food and calories for even the most basic of performances. Flying burnt a lot of calories in Any performance, and as a wonderbolt, that requirement is insane. So, when any of them were forced to take a long break, there had to be a tremendous mental discipline to not eat as they usually did, or to exercise extra to make up for it. Unfortunately for Soarin, he couldn't do the latter, and had been in the wonderbolts far too long to do the former. Unfortunately he had no real choice in the matter it seemed, the second doctor concurred with the first's analysis. He'd have a month and a half before he could even consider flying again, the longest he had ever so much as heard of any pegasus trying to 'survive' the curse. 'It'll be in the record books if i win at least.' he thought
For ANY pony with a sweet tooth, living by sugarcube corner was a new experience in self control. Soarin knew this, and after the prerequisite greeting with Pinkie, avoided the place like the plague. His hotel was paid up, and it was a cute little place, even if it didn’t offer any extras. A gym would have been appreciated, but there were other ways to get his work in. He actually started to try running for his exercise, but he couldn't find a comfortable rhythm, despite trying a few times. It was simply wednesday as he stopped trying for the day, huffing and puffing a bit as he pauses to collect himself. Looking around, he had managed to get into the Ponyville Marketplace. That's when the scent hit him. Usually he was a bit too late in both waking up and getting out to see it, but right now he was regretting each and every sleep-in so far thanks to the scent of his favorite. At the apple family stall across the marketplace was a number of hot, fresh, delicious and enticing apple pies, the scent drawing him in from across the town square.
The stallion running it was surprisingly handsome. Soarin was already a bit red faced and out of breath from the jog over so it was easy to hide a blush at the stallion's confidence, "One pie please!"
Soarin was used to stares, the injury not helping in that regard. Mac seemed to at the very least sympathetic, offering him two. "On th' house." without asking for anything like a signature or a picture. It was a novelty, for him not to be recognized, and he took his pie to go at least at first, the scent of them tempting him all the way back to his hotel room.
Ten minutes after walking back into his room, he was staring in amazement at the newly emptied pie tin. His initial impulse was for a single slice, with the intent of making the two pies last at least two days. The moment he cut into the top of it however, the scent nearly fully overwhelmed his mind, and he tossed the knife aside and buried his muzzle into the first pie. The filling was perfectly spiced, the crust just thick enough to provide a nice bit of firmness and texture, and the apples themselves were of course just perfect. Apple pies were his favorite after all, and that one had been the best he had ever had. There was a hint of familiarity in it, but that was all the way back to a royal party, some time ago, but it wasn’t nearly as good as this one. Considering he had at least 6 different types of pie daily, it was a very big compliment. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that without enough exercise to off put it, a single pie would have to last an entire week. That small fact was being drowned out by the overwhelming urge to eat the second pie. At this point, Soarin knew the smart play would be to toss the pie out the window, to never go back to that market place with the cute stallion and the irresistible pies, and to work even harder to get the calories already in him out. He even went and opened the window to toss it. But the moment he had the still warm pie in his hands, he decided to take a single bite. Just one would satisfy him, and of course he had the self control to just take one! He was the pegasi that Invented the triple inverted corkscrew! There was simply no way he couldn’t take just one bite. Three minutes later as he was licking the pie tin clean, he still thought he could overcome it through willpower alone.
For those Pegasi suffering under the supposed ‘curse’ of gaining weight, an option was available. They could hide their gain under a magical necklace, but any and all gain still would happen. It was just enough to give some self confidence, and Spitfire had one delivered to his ponyville hotel room so it was waiting for him there. At the start he hadn’t even considered it, but three days in, with a pie-filled gut greeting him in the mirror, and he slipped it on. Again, he promised himself that he’d turn things around, and for the rest of the week, he would go through the same movements. He would wake up, necklace already on and body ready for some exercise. He would walk around for about an hour, enough to get a little bit exhausted and a little bit hungry. He’d end up outside of the marketplace, and swear to himself that he wasn’t going to go in. He’d make it halfway around it when the smell hit and the urge to not go in to at least speak to Mac. He’d walk up to his stall, and Mac would let him around the side, giving him the first pie for free. The two would talk, with Mac treating him just like a normal stallion. Soarin would manage to get through around three pies and a mug or two of cider before leaving with another group of pies. He’d make it back to his hotel room mid afternoon, and watch tv, ever so slowly finishing off the other three pies, convincing himself that everything was fine. He had no way of knowing that his metabolism would be slowed down to an extreme, or that his body was edging close to the maximum weight that it could hold. Mac himself even complimented Soarin on the necklace, so there was no way he was going to take it off yet! He believed he just had to work a little harder and it’d be fine. He had no way of knowing that the necklace itself had a safety feature. It was there for folks who needed a self confidence boost, not denial, and gaining weight would strain the magic keeping the pegasi looking skinny. It was a mass-produced trinket, not meant to hold so much back, and already he was getting very close to a rather massive and public reveal of what had really happened to his body with all that pie.
The breaking point was something somewhat mundane. Mac had cooked a series of pies, not apple, but all seeming very much delicious. He had made them specifically for Soarin due to an argument the two had. It was a very nice gesture, and considering the heartfelt nature of it, he felt very loved. While there had been plenty of other rather nice and heartfelt gestures to the team as a whole, and Soarin occasionally getting something nice, this felt much more personal. Not something to Soarin the Wonderbolt, but instead something to Soarin the Pegasus. It didn’t hurt too much that it was practically guaranteed to be delicious, Mac’s cooking always was. He was a pie and a half down right there as his necklace suddenly started glowing, Soarin knowing that it was the sign of something going wrong. As he put a foot to it however, he noticed his legs were thicker, enough to jiggle a bit as he brought it up against his neck. It was a frightening thought, and looking back, he could only watch in horror as his body swelled out to what it Should look like.
Soarin’s body was getting truly massive. His cheeks would bloat up a little, his formerly lean body bloating outwards all at once before it focused on his belly and flanks. His flanks would be inflating like air bags, his cutie mark plastered wide over them as it overtakes some of his rear legs. It would be the most eye catching feature if his stomach wasn’t also inflating, very quickly reaching within half an inch of the ground, and ponderously wide. It was only his training with weights that meant he wasn’t immediately crashing down to the ground. His eyes were wide and panicked, more than Anything he needed to hide his newly massive body, but he was half a city away from his hotel room. Mac seemed to snap out of his shock the fastest, and managed to say “Soarin, back here! Just hide in the cart, and i’ll help.”
He sounded like he had more of a plan then Soarin did with his newly fattened body and useless wings, so Soarin followed his lead, quickly packed into the back of the cart with what looked to be 30 pies.
Whimpering, he felt Mac make sure the blanket was over him as well, before moving back out, seemingly to pack up his stall. His mind turned to panic as he flopped to his side, the cart creaking in protest a bit as he rubbed at his stomach. Admittedly it felt the same, but surely the necklace had malfunctioned, the magic causing all of this somehow. He was still slowly coming out of shock when he was scared by Mac moving some of his stall next to Soarin, and poking his head through to talk with the startled stallion. “Listen. There was already a few folks trying to find ya, so ah think yer hotel room is gonna be watched. Ah’ll take you back to mah barn, and we’ll sort this stuff out. Sound good?”
Soarin Could barely see past his own masses of flesh, and as he nodded, he winced, the jiggling sensation at the nod making him feel even worse about the situation. “Y-yeah.” he says, even his voice had changed, just deep enough that he wouldn’t be recognized. “Good. It’ll be an hour and a half before i can get back probably. Feel free to have some pie if you’d like, not like i’m gonna sell any of it today.”
Truthfully, Soarin hadn’t even thought about the pie that was currently hot-boxing him, and upon seeing the 30 stacked up, still nice and hot, he gulped nervously. An hour and a half next to some pies? S-surely he had enough self control for that, right?
An hour and a half later, Mac looked back under the blanket to see the fatty stallion passed out on his side. Surrounding him were pie tins and a few stains all down his front. “Didn’t leave a single one…” he whispered quietly with a slight smile, “Guess he’s gonna have to drag that gut around now...
The week after had been a rather hectic affair. Mac had refurbished a barn next to the house to serve as an apartment, complete with its own plumbing setup, kitchen, and entertainment. Evidently the stallion hadn’t been joking about enjoying some time for himself, and it was something Soarin was very grateful for. Mac also was given the necklace, now entirely devoid of magic, and some instructions on sending it back to Spitfire so it could be looked at. Mac had convinced him to try and relax despite his new body and it worked. It did require the temporary borrowing of around 15 pillows from Pinkie, but it worked very well. Mac also hired someone to do his temporary job of bringing and selling the pies at the market, to give himself more time with Soarin. Apparently Applejack had been very pleased at what she saw as him taking some time for himself, and hired some more help of her own. Mac was officially just a shareholder in the Apple Family Farm, able to do whatever he wanted with his days. Soarin saw him around constantly, except for when he was going into town to gather supplies for the two of them. The closeness turned somewhat awkward, as Soarin realized one morning just how he felt for the other stallion.
Sex had never been something Soarin could be interested in before. Despite mares practically throwing themselves at him, Soarin had always led a quieter lifestyle, only partying when the whole team was required to be there. It wasn’t that he didn’t have a sex drive, instead he couldn’t afford a proper night of debauchery, considering he was tagged as a wonderbolt right from his graduation from flight school. No-one had pushed the envelope with him, and he had assumed he was straight because of it. However, seeing Mac around constantly tended to do things to him, awakening the libido he had been ever so easily concealing. Seeing the manly stallion wearing the occasional pink apron had started out hilarious (It had been white when he washed it with one of AJ’s bandannas, and the color had never washed out apparently.), but had soon turned cute considering the stallion’s tendency to hum show tunes when he cooked. Mac had to help him shower considering that at his new size he couldn’t reach all his own body, which had started embarrassing but ended up torturous as Soarin’s mind had conjured up all sorts of naughty images to what the red stallion could do with him, all of that strength put to better and sexier use.
The conversations had even taken up much more of a personal tint, Mac was trying to gradually make him feel better even through a particularly rough dieting process. Soarin wasn’t losing any weight, and he had been even more convinced that it was some odd magical backlash that had put him in this predicament. He was finally tired of attempting a more mundane solution to the problem, and so horny he could barely think. It took up a bit of courage, but finally one morning as Mac asked him what he wanted to do that day he came right out and said it. Mentally he was preparing for a smooth pick-up line, or something nice to match up with the nice stallion he had met, but when it came out, it was “I want to eat as many pies as you can make as you fuck me as hard as you can right in the ass!”
That managed to stop Mac in his tracks. It wasn’t as if he had expected anything like this, but he probably should have known. The laughter was even less expected however, and for a brief moment, Soarin’s heart sank. It picked right back up when Mac turned around, saying “Well jeez. If ya were that horny, we could have gotten things going the first time it was just us together.”
The stallion moved back and hugged Soarin’s front, kissing him right then and there. Mac smelled and tasted like apple juice, Soarin a little self conscious about his morning breath for the first time ever. Mac didn’t seem to mind as he pulled back, “Now ah’m all for trying things out b’tween us, but you sure you want to give up on yer diet? It’s not Too ba-” only to get interrupted.
“P-please! I might be able to do without the fuck, but if i have to go a single day without your pie, I swear i’m going to Explode.” Mac’s chuckle was enough to set him at ease.
“Alright. You just relax and watch ah movie. Ah’ll get to bakin’.” Kissing Soarin again on the nose, he walks back to the kitchen, newly aware of Soarin now openly staring at his cock and balls as he worked to make his newly beloved fatty stallion his pies.
-------------------------------------------Gay Sex Below the line----------------------------------
It had been a few weeks since Soarin’s “Cast-Away Party” (Mac’s bad joke idea of a name). They were weak, already shrunk a bit from non use, but Soarin was far past caring about that now. He had grown truly massive in the month he had spent in Mac’s barn, and now that they had decided to screw the idea of dieting to get his weight down, Soarin had very quickly learned that Mac was excited about his weight, and that there were some very definite advantages to being so massive, such as heightened sensitivity and being able to be Very comfortable laying on his gut as he was taken from behind. Eating anything he wanted and sleeping in were just icing on top of one very pleasurable cake. Mac had made him feel loved just like his fan base had, and even if it was experimenting with new sexual positions or types, he was still thrilling his audience. Even if it was just an audience of one. Eventually, he’d write a letter, a very nice one to Spitfire that he had succumbed to the ‘Pegasus Curse’ like so many before him, but he’d keep a few things secret, out of wanting to protect Mac’s privacy. He was interrupted from thinking about it by Mac starting to squeeze and nuzzle one of his flanks. Soarin’s tail flagged up on instinct, his cock hardening down there between his flabby thighs as he got ready for a very wonderful morning.
Mac wasn’t an idiot despite a few people seeing him as one. It wasn’t exactly hard to see that Soarin’ had an injury, and he was able to ask Twilight about Soarin’s necklace. He claimed to have seen one on Rainbow, which was enough to keep the speedy Wonderbolt fanboy away from most public places as Twilight sought to make sure her friend was okay. It was a little sneaky, but no harm no foul. He had looked up Soarin after seeing him at a Pinkie Party, and discovered the stallion’s love of pie and seeming lack of care for mares. From there it was as simple as trying to do something nice for someone who’d had a rough time of things. Of course then it developed more and Mac very quickly realized that it would be taking a substantial toll on the pegasus. He had tried to politely offer a healthier alternative, but Soarin simply took it as a prompt to pay for the pies instead. Conversation was well enough, and as he found he could talk with the other stallion for hours on end without getting bored, he finally took a very large step. He had made some very special pies, thick with calories and sugar with the express purpose of shorting out the magic, to make the stallion come to terms with being so huge. He was hoping to keep his friend, but seeing the panic that went through Soarin’s face, he knew he messed up. Taking the former wonderbolt back to his house was easy enough, as was faking mailing the necklace back. He had brought it to twilight, who had taken one look at it and said the illusion spell on it was busted due to strain. No way that it did anything to his body, instead just started to show what was already there. From there things got a little more interesting.
He quickly hired someone to take his position at the farm, finally taking an offer to relax instead of working everything himself. Applejack had been a little distracted from Rainbow Dash finally getting her chance to try out to be a wonderbolt, so it was barely glanced at. From there, it was a simple matter of seducing a stallion without using his baking skills. Mac had amazing self control, helped by the constant contact and watching Soarin’s growth. Soarin himself didn’t move from the bed or couch except when Mac dragged him to shower, and it was indeed dragging by by the time Soarin held out against the allure of eating whatever he wanted. All things considered, at this point, Mac was in love with what he had managed to do.
Soarin’s ass was still his most prominent feature. His gut had a few bulges and his wings were a little covered, it was enough to make holding a wing-boner impossible. His stomach was big enough that Mac had to buy a special sling developed for pregnant mares to get him mobile, otherwise it was simply too much to drag on the ground. His cheeks were nice and chubby at this point, and more impressive was the rear view. His cutie-marks scaled up rather spectacularly, enough that Maccould sit on one of them and still not cover all of it up. His ponut was nice and prominent, and plenty stretched out from the easily twice to three times a day demands made on it. Soarin’s sensitivity had skyrocketed, but he had turned out to be quite the anal lut, begging for that more then anything and Mac was happy to provide. Eating while making out was Soarin’s favorite and considering it was their ‘two month anniversary’, Mac was all too eager to provide. Mac’s own gut was flabby now, a sign of just how many pies he had gone through, “I still blame you for that.” He mentions when Soarin giggles at Mac’s slightly fattened form. The apple stallion had stacked up thirty pies in front of Soarin, before moving, taking position behind him.
“We’re gonna see if you can tie your record!” He says, as he braced himself on Soarin’s rear. “Remember, I only cum once you’re done eating, so make sure you moan extra loud once your face isn’t being stuffed with pie.”
Fucking the fatty was an experience unto itself. With many a stallion or mare, sex was something that both sides had to really work at to feel their best. For Soarin, he just had to take it thanks to his size, he was too heavy to need to brace himself. Soarin’s cock was also a little too hard to reach when he was on his belly, but getting his prostate hammered would make him climax anyways. Mac always managed to keep a good rhythm, and Soarin’s favorite was trying to match his climax up with Mac’s. Mac would just bask in the noises of Soarin pigging out beneath him. He would be nice, and go for one deep hard thrust a pie, just to listen to his pegasus moan every time. He managed to draw it out to a nice long session, as Soarin stuffs his gut nice and tight. Eventually Soarin managed to moan out “Th-the pies are done!” only to feel Mac suddenly leap forward with energy. The humping and movement was now Much faster, hitting him in just the right places, Mac holding back his own orgasm to match it up, a delightful little ‘great’ for Soarin, who wiggled his wings as he was filled up from the other side. Mac slowly pulled himself out with a slightly messy *plop* before walking to Soarin’s front. He kissed the pegasi deeply, even licking a dollop of apple pie off of the stallion’s chubby cheek as Soarin passed out in a pleasurable food coma.
“Seems this curse worked out well for you. My lovely Wonder-blob~”
Author's Note
Kink Warning: If you've gotten this far and haven't realized, this is a fetish story about weight gaining and Gay sex stuff between a normal stallion and a very fat one. If you don't like it, don't read it. [
First mlp story i've done in a while, and first one i've put on here. FA might have one or two more, but I felt particularly proud of this one.
