While waiting in the busy Ponyville train station, a blast of cold air made Sandbar shiver despite his winter jacket, pants, and beanie. The biting wind chilled him to his bones, and no amount of clothing was enough to keep him comfortably warm while outside these days. Winter was in full swing for the holidays and it was only going to get worse if the weatherpony’s words being broadcasted over a nearby radio was to be believed.
“Despite the Cloudsdale weather teams best efforts, the massive storm system moving in from the Everfree continues its approach towards Ponyville. Folks, this natural blizzard is no joke. Once it hits, we highly advise that everyone stays indoors until it passes. Expect record-breaking snowfall and subzero temperatures with winds in excess of a hundred miles per hour...”
Distracted by the radio, Sandbar didn’t notice the presence of his griffin friend, Gallus, until he moved into the stallion's face. “Yo, Sandbar, you going to board the train or what? We don’t have much time and this is the last train out of here before the blizzard.”
Sandbar and all his friends planned to travel to their respective families for the Holidays, with the exception of Gallus. He didn’t really have much of a family. The griffin instead opted to visit with Yona in Yakyakistan. The idea of smashing things was most appealing to him.
Firstly they would all have to get to their separate destinations while avoiding the wrath of the storm. Ponyville only had one railroad that passed through it. Therefore everyone had to take the same train for the first part of the trip before parting ways at a larger train station further up the tracks. The blizzard, however, complicated things. For a matter of public safety, the mayor of Ponyville decreed that no trains, with the exception of this last one, would run until after the storm had passed and the tracks were cleared of snow and debris. In other words, if they didn’t leave soon, they wouldn’t be able to leave at all.
The reason Sandbar was standing around freezing his rear end off, instead of sitting in the warm confines of a train car, was that one of his friends was unaccounted for. “Gallus, have you seen Smolder? She should have been here by now.”
“I believe she said she wanted to visit the marketplace to get some snacks for the trip, but that was hours ago.”
Sandbar looked at the clock hanging over the ticket booth. It filled him with concern. The train was scheduled to leave with or without them in just under twenty minutes. Whatever the stallion did, he had to do it fast. “You stay here, I’m going to run into town and see if I can find her.”
“You know, Sandbar, Smolder has a working pair of wings. It’s not the end of the world if she misses the train.”
“I know, but I just wanted to, uh…” Sandbar felt heat rise upon his cheeks as he thought about Smolder.
“Spend a little more time with her?” Gallus finished, smirking knowingly.
All Sandbar could manage was a nod of agreement. Apparently, he was terrible at hiding his not so secret crush on the dragon.
The griffin sighed, “Fine. I’ll see if we can get the conductor to wait for you two, but try to make it quick. With this storm on the horizon, I doubt we can make them wait all day.”
“Thanks, Gallus, you’re a good friend, but if we don’t make it back in time, I won’t blame you guys for leaving on that train.” Without waiting for a response, Sandbar galloped off towards town.
On his way through, Sandbar passed numerous townsfolk bundled in as many articles of clothing as they could pack onto their frames. Everyone was preparing for the worst the coming storm had to throw at them. Windows were being boarded up, loose tree branches pulled down, and food, firewood, and other essential supplies purchased. Hearths Warming Eve was tomorrow, and It saddened Sandbar that ponies were forced to be more concerned about preparing for the blizzard than festivities. Life had a tendency to throw curve buckballs every once in awhile, but he was confident Ponyville would get through this. From the stories he had heard, a blizzard was hardly the worst thing to happen in this town.
Sandbar soon arrived in the center of town where the most popular stores were based. Gallus had said Smolder was looking for snacks, so he narrowed down the list to places that sold such. He knew the dragon had developed a bit of a sweet fang during her time spent living among ponies. So her choice of snacks was unlikely to be produce or anything of the healthy variety. Thus he narrowed the list even further. He figured Sugar Cube Corner was a decent bet and trotted over to the colorful establishment.
The lanky Mr. Cake was outside his bakery and hard at work hammering in boards over the windows. Despite the noise he was making, his yellow ears perked up at the sound of Sandbar’s hooves noisily clopping upon the cobblestone street. Looking over his shoulder, his face portrayed surprise as his green eyes met Sandbar. “Sandbar? What are you doing here? I thought you’d be on that train with your friends...”
“I should be, but Smolder is missing. Have you seen her?”
“Your dragon friend? Well, let me think...” Mr. Cake hammered in a nail, presumably as he pondered. Mr. Cake was well known as a slow thinker, but he wasn’t stupid. Given time he could figure out problems that baffled many faster thinkers. “Ah, yes! Now I remember. She came by a few hours ago. That young girl has quite the appetite. I dare say she’s our favorite customer. I’ve been outside most of the day, but I definitely remember her going inside.” He paused for a moment, before continuing, “Come to think of it, I don’t remember her coming back out.”
“So, she’s inside?”
“Perhaps. You’re welcome to take a gander inside. Despite my protests, the wife insisted we stay open for business today.”
“Thanks, Mr. Cake. Happy Hearths Warming to you.”
“And to you as well.”
The bell hanging from the door handle rung, announcing Sandbars entrance into the bakery. As he shut the door behind him, Mrs. Cake’s cheery voice carried from the kitchen in the back. “Welcome to Sugar Cube Corner! Give me a moment, I’ll be right with you!”
From what Sandbar saw, prospects weren’t promising. He was alone in the room with multitudes of unpurchased baked goods on display. It seemed the townsfolk weren’t interested in getting deserts to finish off a hearty Hearths Warming feast. And who could blame them? At least the Cake's had a working radiator to drive out the cold. He found himself gravitating towards it as he waited.
It wasn't long before Mrs. Cake walked, or more accurately, waddled into the room. Sandbar was momentarily stunned by her appearance. He remembered Mrs. Cake being a little chubby, but today she looked a good deal plumper than usual. A pink flour-covered apron squeezed her paunchy barrel, suggesting she had been baking.
Displaying a warm smile, the well-fed baker reached the counter, “Oh hello, deary. How may I help you? If you’re looking to make a purchase, we’re having a sale today. 80% off all pre-made goods. We need to clear out our inventory before this dreadful storm hits. I don’t want to get snowed in here with all these tempting desserts. My waistline doesn’t need… well, more waist.”
“That's quite the deal, Mrs. Cake, but I'm actually here to look for Smolder. Mr. Cake said he saw her go in here.”
“Why yes, she's here. Smolder has been my good little helper today. Well, maybe not so little at the moment.”
“Your helper? I didn't know she could bake.”
“Oh no, she’s a horrendous baker, but she’s an excellent taste tester. You see, I’m entering a bake-off next month, so I’ve been trying to improve on my recipes. That means lots of adjusting ingredients and improving techniques. And of course, an abundance of results to taste. Up until now, taste testing duty has fallen mostly to me, and I’m sure you can see what’s come of that.” To emphasize, the hefty mare wiggled her broad hips a few times, sending her portly body wobbling to and fro. “That’s why I’m so grateful she volunteered her amazing dragon stomach.”
“That’s very generous of her, but I’m afraid I need to relieve you of your helper. Smolder and I have a train to catch.”
“A train?” Mrs. Cake looked at her clock. Her eyes went wide. There were less than ten minutes till noon, the train’s departure time. “Oh! My apologies! She mentioned the train earlier, but we were having so much fun, I lost track of time. Please, step around the counter and follow me, I’ll take you to her.”
Sandbar did as he was told, but he couldn’t help but wonder why Smolder hadn’t come out to meet him. If she was in the kitchen, no doubt she could have heard their conversation.
Mrs. Cake continued to talk as she maneuvered her hefty body along, “I must warn you, Smolder got a bit tuckered out. I told her it was sufficient enough to just take a few bites out of each item for taste testing, but she insisted on eating everything. And it seems we discovered her… limit. I let her rest on the couch in our living quarters.”
They passed through the surprisingly clean and orderly kitchen. Sandbar figured Mrs. Cake was the kind of cook that cleaned up behind herself while she worked rather than after. He admired that in her. He also admired her physical assets being swung and bounced around near his face as she waddled in front of him.
Mrs. Cake opened a door at the back of the kitchen and ushered Sandbar into a cozy little living room. The lights were off, but the dancing glow from the lit fireplace illuminated a plush loveseat. On it, wearing unintentionally form hugging sweatpants over thick pudgy legs, was a severely bloated orange and yellow dragon lying on her side. Like a cat, she had curled her body and limbs around an excessively enlarged gut big enough to overflow the edge of the seat cushion. The dragon was most definitely Smolder, but Sandbar had never seen her in such a state. She looked so vulnerable there on the couch, struggling to breathe normally as she cradled her ponderous belly in her claws. She let out a moan, but whether in pain or pleasure, it wasn’t clear.
A loud ding came from the kitchen. “Oh, my pie! I’ll leave you to it, Sandbar. I have something to attend to in the kitchen.” Mrs. Cake rushed back into the kitchen. The door closed behind the stallion, leaving him alone with his overstuffed reptilian crush.
“Smolder? You alright?” Sandbar inquired as he approached the couch.
Smolder's voice was tired and weak. “Sandbar, I-” She let out a savage belch before attempting to sit up, but she ended up gasping and lying back down on her side. She clutched her belly as her face scrunched up in discomfort. “Ugh, I think I ate too much.”
“I can see that. Are you going to live?” Sandbar asked sarcastically, but as he watched the dragons disproportionately large midsection rise and fall from labored breathing, he wondered if she might not live through what she had done to herself. It seemed possible her engorged stomach or intestines could burst at any moment trying to contain her no doubt enormous glut of carbs and sugar.
“I'll be fine, just need to rest and digest.”
“Considering your, uh... state, I hate to have to rush you, but can you rest on the train? Everyone's waiting for us, and we got minutes before departure.”
“The train?” If Smolder was concerned from the realization she was going to be late for the train, she certainly didn’t show it. “I… forgot…”
“You forgot? Don't you want to see your family?”
Smolder’s stomach gurgled and squelched noisily. “They annoy me, and the food sucks in the Dragon Lands.” She pouted while moving a claw across the surface of her swollen belly in a circular motion.
“Smolder, we don't have time for this. We'll get stuck here in a blizzard if we don't leave now.”
“I’ll stay here with the Cake's. Just leave me. Go visit your family.”
Smolder was often oppositional and stubborn, and for some odd reason, Sandbar usually found that trait in the dragon endearing and adorable. He enjoyed their exchanges whenever he tried to convince her to do something she didn't want to. Now though, it was trying his patience. They simply did not have the luxury of time to playfully bicker.
“I’m sure you’d be wonderful company, but I don’t think you should impose yourself on their Hearth’s Warming celebrations. Come on, Smolder, the train’s not that far.”
Smolder murmured something that Sandbar couldn’t make out.
“What was that?” Sandbar moved in closer to better hear her.
“It hurts too much to walk!” She suddenly shouted into Sandbar’s ears, making them lay flat involuntarily. Her face turned a deep shade of red. Clearly, she didn’t want to reveal that information. “I can barely move without pain shooting through me. Mrs. Cake delicious cooking really did a number on me.”
“Okay, Smolder. I get it. I’m not judging you.”
Smolder’s face portrayed surprise. “You’re not? The dragons back home would have had a riot making fun of me.”
Did she expect he would belittle her? “I know I’m brave and strong like a dragon, but I wouldn’t dream of making fun of you when you’re in pain.”
“You brave and strong?” Smolder started to laugh, but it was cut short as she suddenly cringed and gasped. Her claws grasped her belly again. “Ouch, it hurts to laugh. Please don’t make me.”
“Fine, but I’m not leaving without you.”
“But you’ve been talking about how much you miss your family all month.”
“Yeah, well, I already decided I’m not leaving you behind.”
Smolder sighed. “How do you propose getting me to the stupid train if I can’t walk there.”
“Well, I’ve seen Spike riding on the back of Headmare Sparkle before. We could try that.”
“Sandbar, I’m a little bigger and heavier than Spike. I’m not so sure you can handle my weight.”
“Oh, I think I’ll manage. I’ve been jogging almost everyday, my legs are stronger than they look.” Sandbar raised his foreleg and flexed his admittedly meager looking muscles.
Smolder looked unimpressed by Sandbar’s display. “This is going to be super embarrassing, but I guess you’ve left me with no choice. Get my hoodie over there on the table.” With much wincing and groaning, she managed to sit upright on the couch. Her taut belly jutted over her lap and let out an angry gurgle.
Sandbar snatched the white and black striped hoodie from the nearby table with his teeth, and presented it to the dragon.
Smolder frowned, then raised her chubby arms over her head. “Help me get it on… please.”
To get her head and arms through their respective openings of the hoodie, Sandbar used his excellent pony hoof dexterity. Something that often baffled non ponies. Her pudgy arms stretched the fabric a bit, but he managed to get her claws through the sleeves with a bit of determination. It was a little easier to get the dragon’s head and neck through, albeit hugging a little tight around her plump neck. Then, with some work, her wings popped through the stretchable openings on the back. Next he pulled the hoodie down. It may have fit perfectly in the past, but now it was clearly too small. Smolder had gotten more than a bit chubby, even before this unadvised pig out session. Her body had distributed excess fat in interesting ways. Two plump orbs the size of grapefruits had grown from her chest and rested on top of her belly. Those, along with rolls of fat on her back forced her upper torso to be squeezed by the thick fabric, but with perseveration, Sandbar got the hoodie down to the beginning of her taut oversized gut. At this point, there simply wasn’t enough fabric to cover the rest. He made a few attempts to pull the sweater down, but everytime, it rode back up, and her belly surged outward again.
All this physical attention on her aching belly, made Smolder whimper in pain, so he was forced to give up. “That’s the best I can do.” The stallion squatted down next to the couch so Smolder could get on his back easier. “Just get on, but move carefully.”
Smolder snorted, expelling smoke from her nostrils. “Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Wincing with the occasional whimper or gasp, the dragon grabbed ahold of Sandbar’s back, and crawled on top.
As soon as her full weight was upon him, he grunted and nearly buckled, but somehow he successfully stabilized himself and stood up. She was much heavier than he thought, but he got himself into this situation. So he wouldn’t dare complain. In all honesty, he actually found this predicament rather enticing. He liked the physical closeness of carrying her. How her thick squishy thighs rested against his sides. How her soft tush engulfed a good portion of his slender back while her tail was draped over his hip. And most of all, how that big bulbous gut of hers spread over his shoulders and the top of his head.
He could hear her insides loudly churning and blorping busily above him. Her belly, unlike the rest of her, was quite solid. Its lined skin was stretched taut like a drum. And the weight of that gut forced him to lower his quivering neck. No doubt every available space in her digestive tract was packed to the brim with Mrs. Cake’s culinary creations.
Once he got moving, things didn't get easier, but walking was doable. Before long, they had bid the Cakes a quick farewell and were trodding slowly down the street towards the train station. Too slowly…
“Can't you move any faster? I've seen slugs quicker than you.” Smolder protested from her comfortable spot on Sandbar's strained back.
As aggravatingly hypocritical as she was, Smolder had a point. It was already noon, and they were still within shouting range of Mr. Cake outside the bakery. The dragon was just too damn heavy. If he could gallop, they might make it to the train in time, but as it was, every step was an immense struggle. His strained muscles burned and trembled. He wanted to rebuke Smolders snide comments, but all he could do was huff, puff, and grit his teeth as he pressed onward.
They managed to pass a few more buildings before it happened, the telltale noise Sandbar was dreading. In the distance, he heard the steam engine of their only way out reving up, the whistle announcing departure, and the distinct metallic sounds of a train moving over tracks, gradually picking up speed.
Dispirited, Sandbar's strength failed him. He collapsed beneath the overweight dragon. To make matters worse, in the process of them falling, Smolders hefty belly was thrust upward before gravity slammed it down upon the poor stallion’s head. His muzzle was shoved into a pile of snow.
“Sandbar!” He heard Smolder’s somewhat frantic muffled voice through her substantial belly—which was now covering his ears and most of his head. So, she does care… he thought as the sudden lack of oxygen and blow to his head proved too much for him to stay conscious.
