You trudge up the street, hooves kicking up dust, happy today was finally over, but tired all the same. It had been a long day, filled with large orders and mistakes you needed to correct. Worse still, you shouldn’t have even been at work all this week. You booked it off months ago, wanting the week off up until your birthday, but a flu had ravaged the warehouse, and you voluntarily gave up your vacation to keep the Equestrian Courier Service up and running. You sigh as you spy your house, on the ground as you don’t like cloud houses (and the market for them is atrocious!) despite being a pegasus. It’s also easier for your marefriend, Sugar Belle, when she comes over. Sugar Belle is the main reason you sigh. She promised she’d be able to visit on your birthday, but she’s been away all week on some sort of ‘baking expedition’ and wouldn’t be back until Sunday at the latest, the day after your birthday. It wasn’t that big a deal, for the past few years your birthday had just become another day to you, but it would’ve been nice to spend some time with your love.
You fumble with your keys, bumping the bill of your Whinneypeg Jetstreams hat against the door before getting the key into the sticky lock. You take a moment to sweep a hoof through your mane and readjust the cap, catching a glimpse of yourself in the dark glass on the door, and wipe a smudge of dirt off your muzzle before opening the door. It takes you a moment before realizing that there are balloons and streamers strewn about the entryway, but before you can react, Sugar Belle pops out of the living room door with a party hat and confetti in her fluffy purple mane.
“Surprise!” Her voice rings out, and you can’t help but smile as you scoop her into a spinning hug, and lay a gentle kiss on her lips. She kicks the door shut, latching the door with her magic, cheeks flushed. “Happy birthday, Kacey!” Her grin is wide, eyes sparkling as you quickly dump your work bag to the floor.
“I thought you were supposed to be away until Sunday.” You say, playfully accusatory. Sugar giggles behind her hoof, laughter as sweet as wind chimes.
“Ah, yes, well, the ‘baking expedition’ ended earlier than expected, so I figured I’d drop in.” She shoos you into the living room, taking your cap and placing it on its hook on the wall. You take a seat on your lumpy couch, making a mental note for the umpteenth time to find a replacement for the worn out thing, and Sugar plops down next to you, her wide, soft hips squishing you into the arm of the couch, hips you helped to soften. You want to just pull her to you, and kiss her until both your lips go numb, but before you can lean over, a present floats in front of you. You give her a stern look, spoiled by the smile on your face.
“I told you I didn’t want anything!” You say. Sugar sticks out her tongue, and the present drops neatly into your lap, a lap you’ve noticed has shrunken slightly over the months. Pros and cons of dating a baker, you think to yourself, thankful that you stay so active at work, and while coaching hockey, though there’s a small part of you that wouldn’t mind seeing yourself a little bit bigger. Shaking those thoughts away, you carefully peel the wrap off the present, revealing a brand new Whinneypeg Jetstreams hat, to replace your old one which is hanging by a literal thread. “Thank you! Wow, this is a vintage one!”
“Didn’t want and didn’t need are two different things, love.” Sugar Belle accepts your hug and pulls you in tight. “I was getting tired of watching you try and fix the old one when you should’ve been watching me instead!” She teases. “Now come! I’ve got another surprise for you in the kitchen.” You hop to your hooves, the unspoken promise of Sugar Belle’s baking making your little belly rumble in anticipation. She notices, and gives you a cheeky little smile over her shoulder, her tail flicking back and forth in front of her plump rear. “Somepony sounds hungry.” She says, her flirty tone causing a bit of red to appear on your cheeks.
“Long day, I didn’t get my lunch.” You say truthfully. There had been a big mixup of shipments between Vanhoover and Las Pegasus, and it was all hooves on deck for the rest of the day once the mistake had been found. Your delicious daisy sandwich had been left in the work fridge, and you were hoping it would still be there come Monday. Sugar Belle frowns at your words.
“Aw, Kacey, you must be starving! Well, good thing I got this finished up today.” The pair of you walk into the kitchen, and you stop dead at the sight of the cake sitting on your counter. It’s massive, nearly half your height, and almost larger than your admittedly small dining table. A blue and red glaze dripped from the top, and your mouth started watering even more as you realized what the cake is: cheesecake, your absolute out and out favorite. Sugar Belle carefully floats the cake down onto the table, which lets out a loud creaking complaint, loud enough that she decides it’s safer on the floor, after she puts a couple towels down. Your belly lets out another hungry rumble as you lay your eyes on the marbled top, and the chocolate letters carefully arranged on top that read out ‘Happy Birthday, Kacey!’ along with a pair of candles, wicks burning blue and red. With a sudden flap of your wings you zip to her side and pull her into a tight hug. She lets out a little squeak before returning your hug, nearly as strong, her flabby forelegs warm against your shoulders.
“You went above and beyond, ma belle.” You ease off the hug, giving her a smooch on the nose. “Thank you.”
“I had to return the favor for my birthday, didn’t I?” You cringe a little at the memory. Your first attempt at baking a cake had ended in flames and disaster, but Sugar had laughed with you when you showed her the wreckage, and helped you bake a new one.
“Not much of a favor to return.” You say, rubbing the back of your head. She kisses you on the lips, a quick smooch, before pulling away to get a knife.
“Hush! It’s the thought that counts, and the cake we made was delicious.” Sugar gestures to the cake. “Now blow out your candles before this one catches fire too!” You take a deep breath and blow, the candles winking out after only a moment. Sugar applauds politely before passing you the knife, and you make the first cut, the knife sliding easily though the soft cheesecake to the cake pan underneath. You cut yourself a healthy slice, but when you go to cut another for your marefriend, she stops you, and gives you a magical nudge to sit on one of the chairs set up around the table. A little surprised, you start to ask why when she brings the slice of cake right in front of your lips. “Oh no, Kacey. This is your cake, and you’re going to eat it. Every. Last. Bite.” Sugar Belle’s eyes sparkle, an unspoken dare dancing behind her gaze as your eyes flick back and forth between the cake, and her.
“We will, over a few days.” You say, smiling a little nervously, but Sugar shakes her head, the slice of cheesecake bumping your lips, leaving a smear of glaze that you immediately lick off, your stomach growling a demand for more.
“You will. Tonight.” She smiles wide. “I know you want to. I found those stories you tried to hide in the back of your notebook. It’s a little telling when the pony getting fatter than a house is named ‘KC’.” Your eyes widen, and you open your mouth to try to explain your work, but Sugar doesn’t bother to let you get any more words out. She shoves the slice into your mouth, and you chew automatically, breath escaping your nose as the taste floods your mouth.
It is simply divine.
You chew slowly, eyes closed, as the moist, creamy texture fills your mouth, the strawberry and blueberry glaze almost fighting each other for your attention, the graham crust delightfully crunchy. You swallow, mouth eagerly opening for more, stomach voicing approval with a loud gurrrrrrgle. Sugar Belle doesn’t hesitate, and pushes the rest of the slice home. You devour it, and the next few slices without trouble, but as she cuts the next slice, even larger than the last, you let out a little groan. The four or five slices you’ve had already sit like a rock in your stomach. At the sound of your groan, Sugar walks back over to you, her horn glowing as the knife magically slices the rest of the cake. You look over and let out another groan, you’re already feeling full but you’re not even finished a quarter of the cake yet. While you hope she won’t make you eat it all, that little part of you, deep down, is screaming for her to just cram slice after slice down your throat. Your thoughts are interrupted by one of her hooves gently rubbing your small stomach, and your face flushes, wings set fluttering away. She smiles, and gives you a kiss on the lips.
“Seems like someone wants their belly rubbed.” She teases, the next slice floating to your face. You don’t reply, tongue-tied and too busy munching on cake, but she takes your silence as a yes. She sits in front of you, her eyes as alight as her horn, and gently presses her hooves against your stuffed belly. You let out a quiet little moan of delight as she works her hooves gently up and down, all the while more slices keep floating over to your mouth, and without a choice, you keep gobbling them down. Even with your eyes closed, you can feel your belly swelling with each slice, and you can hear Sugar’s giggles over the gurgles and groaning of your packed belly, which is both protesting against how much you’re shoving into it, and yet growling for more. Another slice disappears, and another, a sickly belch forcing its way out between your sticky lips. You’re in abject heaven, Sugar’s rubs sending tendrils of pleasure coursing through your body, chasing away the growing dull ache of fullness, all the while you keep chewing through the cheesecake, gulping hard, breathing hard whenever your mouth isn’t full. You finally work up the courage to look down at yourself, and you gasp. Your stomach fills your lap, as round as a beach ball, preventing you from leaning forward, or seeing much of Sugar Belle aside from the tip of her glowing horn, and the top of her mane. You place one of your hooves tentatively on the curve of the orb that had become your gut, almost not believing that it’s actually all just you. Another gasp escapes your lips as you press into your stomach, finding it has almost no give left, but there’s still half of the cake left. Sugar Belle pops up off the floor, kissing your curious hoof, smiling broadly, her cheeks pink. She looks like she’s enjoying herself, and you wonder if she’s liking as much as you are as she leans in for a kiss.
“I… I don’t think I can have much more, love.” You say. Without her rubs to help alleviate it, you start feeling the full weight of the cheesecake, and despite how good it is, you really start to regret eating nearly half of it. You shift in the chair, face turning even redder as the chair lets out a loud creak. Sugar’s smile widens, and she pulls back, horn sparkling as she picks up the cake pan, and beckons you up.
“Let’s go somewhere a bit more comfortable.” She winks. You, still blushing, smile back, before realizing that you are a little bit stuck. Your gut is forcing you to lean backwards, and even just thinking about leaning forwards causes it to let out an angry grumble. After a minute of small and ginger movements, you manage to get to your hooves, and your knees almost immediately buckle, unused to the weight of half a cheesecake crammed inside you. Your gut hangs low, three quarters of the way to the floor, and as you start to follow your marefriend, you find out that your normally confident, fast trot has been reduced to a slow, ponderous waddle, your stuffed gut entirely in the way, and the jostling of your walk forcing little burps out of your mouth in time with your pants. Half a cheesecake is pretty heavy to be lugging around in your stomach, after all. Sugar Belle watches you struggle with a gleam in her eyes and a giggle on her lips. “Oh Kacey, what would your team think if they saw you like this? Once such a fast skater, now barely able to walk due to his own gluttony.” Your wings rustle by themselves again, and your face turns even redder. Sugar floats a slice in front of your face, pulling it away just a little as you crane your neck out. “Still hungry? After stuffing your face with all of that? You’re going to get fat, my love.” She continues teasing as you slowly make your way to the bedroom, comparing her soft little potbelly to your bloated gut. “Just imagine, your fat belly, feeling so soft, hanging so low, wobbling with every step. Your fat flanks, larger than mine, getting stuck in doorways. Your cute double chin…” Sugar bites her lip, and seems about to say something more before giving you a pat on the rear. You stumble forwards, letting out a squeak of surprise, your face a furious red from her teases. After what seems like forever, you finally sidle your way through the doorway, turning even redder as you feel the sides of your gut brush the doorframe, and Sugar rewards you with a kiss, the next slice following close behind.
She pats the bed next to her, eyes focused on your belly as you waddle your way over and collapse onto your side on the bed, groaning and panting. The short walk has left you exhausted, and now your stomach is really starting to complain. You fitfully rub the little area you can still reach, small burps and groans nearly drowned out by the thunderous grumbles of your gut, your eyes squeezed shut against the now growing pain of fullness that washes over you. Sugar lays her head against it, the pressure prompting a louder groan from you, and she looks up at you. “Sounds like you’re still hungry.”
“N-no, Sugar, I’m… uuurp-lk!… f-full.” You manage, trying not to burp lest some cheesecake make a reappearance. Sugar’s horn sparkles, and you feel a light tickling all over you before you suddenly rotate on the bed. The pillows rearrange underneath you, and you find yourself propped up, your gut resting between your hind legs. Sugar stalks towards you on the bed, the look in her eyes, and the wobbling of her wide flanks, making your wings rustle again.
“We can agree to disagree.” She grins. “Now, be a good, greedy glutton, and open up.” The last four slices, each easily the size of your head, float menacingly behind her. You hesitate a moment, as you’re fuller than you’ve ever been in your life, but she doesn’t want to let you wait, the first slice pressing against your lips, smearing across your muzzle. “I said open.” The cheesecake is forced into your mouth, and you chew it dutifully, little whimpers escaping your mouth with every swallow, each harder than the last. You can almost feel your belly growing beneath your hooves as you finish the last bite of the slice, and Sugar has the second in your mouth before you can even get a breath in. You let out a whine as you try and chew, the cheesecake being forced into your mouth inch by inch, chunks falling onto your chest and the hard-packed orb that has become your stomach. Sugar Belle leans in to lick them off, the sensation of her tongue gliding across your gut changing your whine to a moan, wings half unfurling as you swallow, the third slice pushing it on the tail of the second. Sugar smiles as she sees your wings, and she starts easing herself back down the bed, wiggling her ass while her forelegs wrap around your belly, the third slice making its way down to join the rest of its siblings in your gut. You’re not really paying attention to anything other than the pressure in your belly, packed to the brim with cheesecake. You feel sick, painfully full to the point you feel as if you ate another crumb you might explode, pathetically small, quiet belches sneaking through your cake-smeared mouth.
The feel of Sugar Belle’s lips kissing around your belly, her hooves rubbing gentle circles along its equator, hits you like lightning. A shuddering moan explodes from you as her tongue laps at your deepened belly button, and your head lolls back. Your wings snap to full extension, and you know that you couldn’t force them back closed even if you wanted to. You let yourself sink back into the pillows, overwhelmed by the overlapping waves of pleasure and pain crashing over you, whimpers and moans a constant out of your mouth as your hooves rub wherever Sugar isn’t. Your vision begins to darken at the edges as Sugar’s rubs get more forceful, her tongue diving deeper and harder inside your belly button, your hind legs twitching as your wings flutter. Neither of you notice the magic surrounding Sugar’s horn start to flicker, her too busy burying her muzzle in your belly button, you too busy with the pleasure, the pain, and the pressure coming to a head, your brain short-circuiting as the room begins swirling. The final slice dips, then drops with a splat into the cake pan. Sugar looks up, her face red and sweaty, and you slowly start coming back to reality without her aggressive loving. You both lock eyes, and Sugar scoots her way up the bed, wrapping her forelegs around your chest, her head resting on your neck, still breathing hard.
“Happy birthday, my love.” She says quietly, looking up at you. “I hope you enjoyed your gifts.”
“I… I did… ohhhh… too f-full.” You manage. Her horn lights up, and she floats the cake pan over to her, picking up the final, smashed slice in her hooves. She goes to take a bite, but you stop her with a weak wave of your hoof. “H-hey, that’s… that’s mine.” Her eyebrow raises, but she pauses. “You said… I was going to eat it all… urrrrrrp!.. right?”
“Are you sure? You look like you’re about to pop.” Sugar’s concern is written all over her face, but you gently hook your hoof around her foreleg, and bring the slice towards your face.
“About to… oooh… pop means I’m not… quite full yet.” You reply, and Sugar giggles.
“Oh, Kacey. I’m going to make you huge.” You don’t reply, your mouth ready and waiting for more cheesecake.
FIN
