Author's Note

Content Notification: Kink (fat, weight gain, immobility, D/s, worship, food, alcohol)

The Restaurant

Rarity watches as the drunk dragoness gently swirls the glass of red wine in her claw, which had been readily refilled by the butler on her airship. With all the constant complaining about her servants, it came as a shock to the mare to see such clockwork service.

Rarity admired the grace with which Freya carried herself. Despite losing her ability to walk, or even waddle for that matter, she never once faltered in her presentation. Even when she would shout commands at her perceived inferiors, it was with an unwavering dignity. The pampered lady could whine for days without losing even a hint of the charm that seemed to follow her everywhere. The charm that swept Rarity into her orbit.

“Orbit is certainly accurate,” thought the fashionista, turning her head away from her date to hide the blush coloring her cheeks.

“Is the wine not to your liking, Rarity, dear?,” Freya asks. Without even waiting a moment, she continues, “Perhaps you would like something with a better vintage. As much as I love a Cabernet Sauvignon of 20 years, it cannot compare to to a wine that’s been aged for decades longer. Have you ever had a port wine? I currently have a few bottles nearing 50 years, and I always adore the thought of how such a vintage wine is finally meeting its end in my divine stomach. I have to imagine that quite a sum of my adipose is all that remains of such fine bottles of—”

Rarity simply stares up at Freya and lets her speak her mind, appreciating her unending thoughts and countless opinions as the airship continues its swaying decent. While no one would dare say it within earshot of her, Freya was often seen as incessant and overwhelming. Rarity, however, was hypnotized with every word that came out of the obese dragoness’s snout.

“—and I assume they went out of business shortly after, but it serves them right for attempting to humiliate me with such a delicate floor!” Freya takes another breath to add, “Of course, as I’m sure you know, a lady as grandiose as I cannot be humiliated in a way that matters,” meeting the white mare’s eyes once again.

Rarity nods and replies, “Oh, of course, your Greatness. And can I just say, it is such an honor to hear you speak with my own ears.”

Freya takes another sip of her wine as she casually replies, “What a privilege I’ve granted you.”

By the time the obese dragoness had finished her latest glass, a servant approaches her to announce, “We have arrived, my Lady.”

Freya ignores the servant’s existence in favor of Rarity, to whom she asks, “Shall we depart, my dear? I will treat you to the finest dinner in Canterlot!”

—

With an airship landing and a perfectly sized space for her to be teleported in, the restaurant was clearly one which the obese dragoness ate at regularly. The waitstaff were noticeably more nervous at the dragoness’s arrival, presumably from previous less-than-pleasant encounters.

Without her even needing to speak her name, a well-dressed stallion immediately tells her, “It is an honor to have you, Madame Freya. Your table is ready, as always.”

Freya just laid upon her mountain of adipose and admired her claws and gold rings, awaiting her next teleport.

Once she was as properly seated as a lady of her weight could be, a massive plate of steak was placed in front of her: filet mignon. For the first time in hours, the obese dragoness hadn’t spoken a word in over 5 minutes, yet she was already being served her preferred entrée. With a magical aura, one of Freya’s accompanying servants lifts bite after bite of the tender and flavorful steak into her fat snout, to nothing less than her utter satisfaction.

Staring at the older lady’s thick neck jiggling beautifully with every gulp, Rarity began to doubt that her weight gain was primarily an artifact of her dragon biology. The thought of her gluttony only deepened her attraction to the dragoness, even with the wake of casual cruelty that the lady left behind her growing more and more apparent.

Freya looks down at her date and says, “You may order anything you’d like, dear. I imagine steak isn’t to your taste.” Her eyes narrow flirtatiously before she adds, “Perhaps you’d enjoy a rich fettuccine alfredo.”

“Oh, Celestia, my figure…,” thought Rarity.

After a moment, she responds, “Don’t you think that would be a little too rich, ma’am?”

Freya covers her smile with a claw, answering, “I eat fettuccine alfredo many times daily. Is there something you wish to say to me, Ms. Rarity?”

The white mare nervously stutters out, “Well, Madam…you’re…you’re very…”

She was undoubtedly teasing her again. There was no way she wasn’t. She knew this, but somehow still couldn’t bare to speak the word ‘obese.’

“Well, then! If you have nothing else to say on the matter—,” she exclaims, giving a single stern glance to one of the waitstaff, who drops what she’s doing to tend to the dragoness’s needs. “My marefriend shall have a large plate of fettuccine alfredo! We shall also have two bottles of your finest wine, to start.”

Rarity couldn’t help but find arousal in Freya’s methods. The white mare would soon have a fattening plate of pasta placed in front of her,she would eat all of it to the dismay of her stomach and waistline, and she would melt at whatever praise the obese dragoness gave her.

“I always get what I desire, Rarity.”

Oh, she did. She really did.

And what she desired this weekend was a certain designer from Ponyville.

“After we’ve finished our meal, I would like to show you my quite impressive home. Would you care to spend the night, Ms. Rarity?”

All the mare can manage to squeak out is, “Oh, yes, ma’am…”