Competitive Eating

“I never thought I would describe this as awesome, but I am AWE-some!”

Way back when, the athletic Pegasus had wondered about her belly growing bigger, she had missed it bulging in her lap. Now? A bulbous, rotund barrel of flab protruded in its place just like she had fantasized. Even sucking in with all her might did little more than produce a misshapen confluence of rolls. When she stood, it protruded against her legs and hung dangerously close to the floor. She swore she could feel its cool touch when she didn’t stand straight enough. And standing up straight was easier said than done. Her forelegs gained girth as well, the flab on their ends pressing against the soft exterior of her gut. Where once there was perfect, athletic shape – an hourglass of rippling strength – an engorged, teardrop-shaped cornucopia of mare protruded in every direction, greatly exceeding her little pony frame. Where she had once curiously poked at flab on her butt and legs were now shockingly extensive layers of supple chub. A stallion could once justify the rotund, bolt-adorned lumps of cyan as being merely thick, but now they were disproportionate. Huge. Like they were competing against the belly to swallow the pony inside of them whole. Her size was absurd. Boisterous. And Rainbow Dash was loving every second of it. Thick had been fun. The chubby category came and went with alarming speed thanks to her friends’ generous contributions. And now…

“I don’t know exactly when somepony qualifies as fat instead of chubby, but I am pretty sure I am f-a-t FAT.”

Rainbow Dash thought she enjoyed coddling a stuffed tummy, but it was only a seductive pretense compared to the touch and squeeze of fat under her hoof. It didn’t go away after a big stuffing. It only got bigger. It didn’t get hard to the touch like it used to either. Nothing did. Her whole body was surrounded by a pillowy mass that hugged her more fully and more deeply by the day.

“Like, I’m pretty sure when you have a double chin and your cheeks start getting round like a foal’s, that makes you fat. Haha!”

Dashie flicked the tip of her hoof at the new roll of flab on her neck, and she laboriously pivoted in front of her mirror. Every inch of her shook and shifted, rolls and limbs colliding in a symphony of softness that responded to every poke, jab, and shake the fat blue mare could muster. And it was no mystery how she found herself in this state. Her appetite was insatiable. Her meals now blurred into a continuous whole. She could barely remember the last time she felt “full.” And even now, she couldn’t help but jam another wad of oats in her mouth. Then another bite of cheesecake. And the last sip of cider in her mug. As if that tiny drop in the bucket would somehow maximize this glorious moment, where she met one goal and resolved to immediately surpass it. As if she needed any more overflowing.

“Look at me! I’m going to need to order a bigger mirror. What even comes after fat?”

Another month, and Rainbow Dash did not have to wonder.