A Waddle Through the Woods

Cottonwood Kindle adjusted the strap of his backpack, and breathed in deeply, the smell of the forest filling his lungs. As a grin settled on his face, he strode along the path, the early morning sun was just barely peeking through the dark canopy of trees above. Hiking had been surprisingly enjoyable for the earth pony, an escape from the hustle and bustle of his work. The forest was always peaceful, and Cot found it helped him clear his mind, any worries fading back for his subconscious to wrestle. Of course, it also helped to have somepony along, and he aimed his grin at the griffon that loped playfully ahead of him.

“Tired already, Cot?” Glade asked the earth pony teasingly.

“Just getting warmed up!” He replied, picking up his pace a little to match Glade stride for stride. His stomach growled as they followed the path, and Glade shot him a knowing smirk. Glade always liked to go all-out when it came to picnics and whatnot, and he was looking forward to the spread the griffon had planned. “What? I didn’t have time to eat breakfast this morning.”

“I know, but you also ate all the trail mix I gave you.” Glade said.

“You didn’t give me all that much.” Cot scoffed. Glade’s smirk widened a little.

“That bag should have been enough for both of us.” Cot’s cheeks turned a little pink at that. He had been pretty hungry, and it was some darn good trail mix. Glade chuckled. “Just make sure you keep your appetite, I went a bit crazy with our lunch.” Cot’s mouth began to water a little. Glade had also been rather insistent recently that Cot help him taste-test various recipes, which Cot had eagerly agreed to. Good food was one of his weaknesses, and Glade’s was getting better and better with every dish. It was mainly his cooking to blame for Cot needing to let his apron out a little more each week, and he couldn’t help but notice the griffon stealing glances at him while Cot was sampling his latest creations. Cot wasn’t quite sure what to make of those looks, so he’d mostly pretended they didn’t exist. The pair walked on in silence for a few more minutes before they came to a fork in the path. Glade steered Cottonwood to the rightmost path, which sloped up significantly, leading upwards out of the valley they’d been walking around since they began.

“That’s a bit steep.” Cot muttered, mostly to himself, but his strong legs propelled him up the trail, Glade scrambling to keep up with the sudden increase in pace. Cottonwood enjoyed feeling the burn of his muscles, the cool nearly-fall air keeping sweat at bay, and his eyes tracked the trees above them, catching glimpses of birds and other critters scampering through the branches, leaves just starting to turn orange. Glade had fallen even further behind, and while Cot had his gaze turned upwards, he tripped over a root he hadn’t noticed. He flicked his big tail in annoyance, unintentionally giving the griffon an eyeful of his plush rump. Glade hustled up back beside him, his cheeks glowing red around his beak, and Cot realized where the griffon’s eyes had been looking. “Want me to slow down?” Cot asked, raising an eyebrow. Glade looked down and away, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Maybe a little, this thing is heavy, you know.” He said, breathing heavier than before. The griffon’s pack was bulging with who knows what, and Cot knew it had to be a lot heavier than the one Glade had prepared for him, which just contained some water and a large checkered blanket, along with the aforementioned empty bag of trail mix. “We’re almost there, anyways. No need to rush.”

Sure enough, the trail split again, and this time the pair went to the left. The trail narrowed, and then petered out, the dark bark mulch replaced with a shallow groove in the dirt that wound around the trees. Somepony had carved arrows into the trunks, leading the pair onwards. The trees gradually started to thin out, opening into a grassy clearing with a beautiful view of the valley below. Cottonwood drank in the view, feeling the heat of the sun as it crept upwards, slowly burning away the morning mist that clung to the treetops. Glade sat next to him, his wings rustling in relief as he slung his bag off his back. He deftly unclipped Cot’s bag and began unpacking the red and white checkered blanket, which ended up unfurling to be large enough for ten ponies to sit on comfortably. Cot helped Glade spread it over the grass, and the size made him raise an eyebrow at the griffon.

“How big of a blanket did you bring?” Cot asked. “This thing is huge!”

“I was looking for a big blanket, this was the only one that was big enough.” Glade shrugged, and glanced around at it. “Now I’m thinking it might be too big.” He shrugged again, then reached into his bag to start prepping the food. A pair of large wicker baskets somehow emerged from within the pack, as well as a pitcher of lemonade, with pulp and ice cubes swimming inside the glass. Glade winked at Cot’s unspoken question, and stuck his arm into the bag, far further than what should have been possible. “Got this bad boy enchanted with some extra storage space. Same with the baskets!” Cot’s eyes widened as he watched Glade unveil the spread with speed. Within a few minutes, the center of the blanket was covered in several plates and bowls, all overflowing with bountiful amounts of food. If Cot hadn’t already been hungry, the warm smell of the spread would’ve got his stomach rumbling immediately. As it was, he felt as if he hadn’t eaten in a week as he eyed steaming haysteaks, a pile of sandwiches, potato and hay fries, and a mammoth bowl of mashed potatoes that Glade was plopping a wad of butter on top of to let melt.

“When you said you went crazy, you weren’t kidding!” Cot said. “There’s enough food here for a whole party of ponies!” Glade’s smirk returned as he poured Cot a glass of lemonade, ice clinking sweetly as he dropped a straw into it.

“Are you sure about that? I think we can finish this off, no problem.” He picked up one of the few empty plates and piled it high, then slid it over to Cottonwood. “You better tuck in, before it gets cold!” Cot needed no more encouragement. He picked up a haysteak, and took a large bite, steam curling out of his mouth as he chewed. His eyes closed, and he let out a quiet gasp at the flavor that exploded on his tongue. Cot had eaten haysteaks before, but this! This one tasted like it had come fresh out of a gourmet kitchen and placed on his plate seconds after it came off the grill, not like it had been sitting in a basket for almost three hours! Cot’s eyes opened to see Glade watching him intently, plucking a couple of fries off his plate, which wasn’t nearly as filled as Cot’s.

“Thish is good!” Cot exclaimed, taking another huge bite. Glade’s smile never wavered as he watched his friend devour the haysteak, before moving onto the fries. The griffon had been surprised to learn from Cot that most ponies had never tried potato fries, only really having hay ones, and he watched with great interest as Cot started on his plate, the potato fries practically glowing on his plate. From the way his eyes squeezed shut after his first bite, they were just as big a hit as the haysteak was. Glade mentally gave himself a pat on the back, and continued eating at his sluggish pace, his eyes gleaming as he watched Cot take big bites out of his mashed potatoes, butter dripping off his chin like liquid gold, the pony mopping it up with one of the daisy andwiches. Glade wasn’t entirely sure when he started thinking about Cot as something more than just a friend, but while he liked to watch the stallion eat, Glade had kept his cards close to his chest. He’d often dreamed about telling him his true feelings, something downright terrifying for the griffon, but he’d been subtle enough to prevent Cot from catching on, hadn’t he? But then there was the tail flick on the trail, the very deliberate unveiling of Cot’s plump rear to him. Glade’s heart did a double-beat as he watched Cottonwood lick the last crumbs off his plate, smiling at him.

“I hope you’re ready for seconds. And thirds.” Glade said, as evenly as he could under Cot’s adorable smile. There was quite a bit of food, a lot more than he’d ever placed out, and he wasn’t planning on eating much. “I don’t want to have to lug all this down the hill.” Cot patted his plump belly, which appeared to have rounded out a little from his demolishing of his plate, still smiling.

“You just want me to eat it all so I have to carry it back down. I see how it is.” Cot nudged his plate over the blanket towards Glade, smiling widening a tad. “If that’s the case, you’d better get to feeding me, mister. I need to save my energy.” Cot said, expecting Glade to fire back with some witty retort as usual, but instead Glade felt his face get hot around his beak, and busied himself with piling even more on the plate than before. Cot watched his friend’s talons blur, and he stifled a belch behind his hoof, his mind still wondering about the looks Glade gave him, including the one just now. Reading any griffon’s expression had always been difficult, but the two of them had spent so much time together that Cot was mostly able to figure out what his friend was thinking, but the expression gleaming in his eyes was something new, something a little more… lustful? While Cot had never put much thought into it, Glade was kind of cute, and often after eating far more than he should have of Glade’s delicious cooking, Cot found himself wondering how it’d feel if Glade gave his overstuffed gut a rub with those big, strong talons… the plate landing with a thump in front of him shook him out of his thoughts, and he blushed a moment, realizing he’d been staring at the griffon. He turned his eyes to the plate, which had been even more overloaded than before, with a pair of haysteaks nearly shoved off the plate by the bundles of fries and the precariously piled sandwiches. His stomach thundered, and without another word, he tucked back in with gusto, not even bothering to pick up the sandwiches, simply grabbing them between his teeth and chowing down. Glade quickly filled up another plate, his own food all but forgotten, feathers rustling as he watched the pony eat, and eat, and eat, the griffon’s eyes glued to the curve of Cot’s belly. Cot may not have even been aware, but with each bite, his already rotund gut swelled outwards. A grin settled on Glade’s face, his beak surrounded by his blush, and he pushed another overloaded plate over to his friend before the first was even finished. Cottonwood swallowed his mouthful with a gulp, crumbs tumbling down onto his chest floof, before taking a big sip of his lemonade. The sweet liquid mixing with the salty food made him let out a little coo of pleasure.

“Good lemonade?” Glade asked, taking a sip of his own. Cot nodded enthusiastically.

“Just as delicious as the food is, and the food is incredible.” Cot said, before diving back in, pushing his newly emptied plate back over to Glade, who dutifully refilled it. The two of them continued this routine, over and over and over again, the food disappearing rapidly. Cot’s jaw began to ache from all the chewing, but the food was so darn good, and as he ate and ate, his belly kept swelling more and more with each plate he licked clean. Soon enough, there was only Glade’s plate left, barely touched in comparison to the demolition that was visited upon the others.

Cottonwood had been forced to lay on his side, letting his stuffed gut swell outwards onto the blanket, his belly too swollen to let him sit normally. His eyes were half closed, a slight smile on his face as one hoof idly rubbed his belly, which spread out before him, a gurgling, rumbling beach ball big enough to reach the ground even if Cot had been standing. It was taking all of Glade’s willpower to keep sitting where he was and not launch himself into to the pony’s gut. He’s never seen anypony eat this much, and the mere sight of Cot laying there had fired so many neurons in his brain he wondered if there was smoke coming out of his head. He forced his talons to not shake as he cleaned up the plates, placing them back into one of the wicker baskets, his own still-full plate following. He reached into the other basket, struggling a little as he pulled out the dessert. The basket bent and twisted as he finally got it free, and placed it as gently as he could on the blanket. It was an apple pie, the first he’d ever tried making, and it was huge. About half a hoof tall, and several hooves across, the crust towered above the tin, brown sugar dusted all over the top, the apple filling oozing through the centre, wisps of steam showing it was still piping hot. Glade gave a silent thanks to the unicorn he’d bought the baskets from, who’d giggled a little and gave a knowing smile when Glade mentioned the amount of food he was wanting to pack for just the two of them. She said she added a little special enchantment, though Glade didn’t press any further, he was starting to wonder as he looked over at Cot, who was half in a food coma. Was it his imagination, or was the pony looking a little softer all around? He pushed the pie towards the stuffed pony, shaking his head imperceptibly. No, there was no way all that food was being digested already. Just wishful thinking on his part.

“R-ready for dessert?” He asked, forcing his eyes to look at Cot’s face and not his belly. Cot opened one eye, and let out a groan.

“Are you trying to… URRRP… kill me?” He said, hoof gesturing weakly towards his belly. “I’m so full I can’t even move…” Glade’s wings rustled, and nearly stuck straight out at his sides. The griffon stammered and stuttered, speechless for the first time since Cot had met him, and realization pierced Cot’s mounting food coma. The looks, the copious amounts of food, this picnic was clearly planned for Cot to eat the Manticore’s share. Cot’s smile softened, his own thoughts and feelings towards his friend becoming clear, and he gestured for the griffon to come closer. “Well… I guess I might have room… if you he-URRRP!-lp me.” Now Glade’s wings snapped out, fully extended, but remained where he stood.

“H-help? Help h-how?” Cot patted his round belly, a blush forming on his own cheeks.

“I need to… oof… make some room. Belly ru-URRRRP!-ubs?” Glade leapt forwards, sliding the pie tray like a curling rock along the tarp. It skidded to a halt just in front of Cot’s face. Glade, however, did not stop, plowing into Cot’s belly at a respectable speed, forcing another belch from the pony. “BURRRRRRRP!! C-careful Gla-ohh.” Cot’s face slackened as he felt Glade’s talons press into his belly, the sudden, sheer pleasure overriding every thought. Glade cooed, his talons sinking in, just a tad, before feeling the hard bulk of food that Cot had scarfed down. He rubbed gently, slowly, feeling tingles of excitement shoot up his arms, making his wings rustle and twitch. He almost couldn’t believe what was happening, even as he spread his arms wide, pressing his face into Cot’s belly, the heat radiating off of him warming Glade’s soul. With the aching fullness in his belly receding, Cot’s eyes flickered open and focused on the pie. He stretched his neck out, the wisps of steam tickling his nose as he shoved his muzzle in, letting out a muffled moan as the pie filling flooded his mouth. Crisp apples floated in thick filling, and he quickly munched through his first bite, forgetting about the feast he’d just devoured, only wanting more pie. Glade twittered as he heard Cot’s gulp through his belly, then felt the mouthful land with a thud in his packed gut, feeling the pony swell just a bit more. He redoubled his efforts, nuzzling up and down, feeling every inch of Cottonwood, talons sliding up and along his globular gut, loving every minute of it.

Cot was in absolute heaven, moaning between bites as Glade rubbed and squeezed and caressed. The pie was just too good for words. The filling was all over his muzzle, chunks of apple had fallen onto the blanket, but he didn’t care as long as the majority made it into his swollen belly. He gulped, and munched, the pie steadily disappearing, his moans growing louder as Glade rubbed harder and deeper, small burps making their way up and out his always-full mouth. It was during this feeding frenzy that Cot began to feel a warmth spread from the center of his belly. At first, he thought it was just the pie, but then it spread throughout his body, a pleasant warmth, not unlike laying in the sun, or a little ways away from a forge. He wondered muzzily if Glade felt the warmth radiating from within him too, but he was too engrossed in getting as much pie into his mouth as possible to even think of stopping to ask. Glade did in fact feel the warmth, both from Cot, and from within himself. He didn’t think anything of it, at first, but when he raised his head to give Cot a smile, he was suddenly aware of how… squishy the pony was. The griffon looked down in confusion, his talons sinking in fairly deep into Cot’s belly, kneading gently. It was then when he became aware of a steady pressure pushing against his body. He chirped in alarm as he realized Cot was growing! Glade felt a gurgle emanate from his own stomach, and found where there used to be a trim, toned stomach, a gentle roll of pudge had formed. Glade chirped again, realized that the talonful of fries he’d eaten had done that, somehow. His eyes flicked back to Cot, and a shiver shot through his spine and out his wings.

Cottonwood was visibly growing by the second, his body rising like dough in the oven. His belly was the most obvious, gurgling and wobbling as it swelled and swelled, pushing Glade over onto his tail as it bloated out larger and larger in front of him. The rest of Cot was swelling too, his legs thickening up, thighs pressing tight together as he kept eating, still oblivious to his new growth. His tail flicked, the movement sending his blubbery flanks jiggling almost uncontrollably, his cutie mark stretching out as he continued getting fatter, and fatter. His face was beginning to plump up, cheeks growing pudgy as he devoured the last bits of pie, his tongue cleaning the pie plate clean, his chubby forelegs squeezing his newly flabby chest, sighing happily. Glade was going absolutely hog wild, his beak buried in Cot’s deepening belly button, talons and wings squeezing and rubbing, not noticing that Cot’s belly loomed higher and higher over him. Not until Cot tried to roll to get a last little chunk of pie, that is. With a grunt, Cot tried to roll off his side to stand, confused at how heavy and difficult it was for him to move. Slowly, ponderously, Cot’s new belly rolled over, smothering Glade with a surprised squawk that finally broke Cot’s trance. He looked down at himself in surprise, a burp bubbling its way up from his sloshing belly.

“What in the bu-URRRRRRRRRRRRP-ck?” Cot looked back, as far as he could past his blubbery shoulders, just barely able to see the crest of his tail behind his mammoth flanks, his back covered in soft folds. “G-Glade?” He felt something squirming under his belly, that spread onto the tarp even though he was standing on all four hooves, the fat billowing out against his legs. A moment later, the griffon swam to freedom from underneath the lake of pony flab, his face a brilliant red, wings permanently extended. His eyes were glazed, and his talons seemed to be kneading all on their own. “Glade!”

“Wuzzuh?” The griffon turned towards Cot’s voice, a dopey smile still on his face. “You’re cute, Cot.” Cottonwood flushed red.

“Y-yeah, right.” Cot muttered under his breath, then raised his voice. “Are you okay? What happened?” Glade shook his head a little, coming back to his senses, and squirmed the rest of the way out, standing beak-to-muzzle with Cot, eyes wide in amazement. The pony has absolutely ballooned outwards, taking up his new belly hanging half off the blanket, which had originally been far, far too big.

“It must have been the baskets, something wrong with the enchantment. It got me, too.” Glade muttered while he patted his belly, which was comically small compared to Cot.

“Well, now what? I’m not walking my way back down now.” Glade snapped his talons, and rummaged through his pack, eventually finding a small sack. He opened it, and pulled out a pair of what looked like glowsticks.

“Flares!” The griffon held them out to Cot. “All we have to do is send one of these up, and rescue will be here within minutes.” Glade started fiddling with them, trying to figure out how to get them to work. Cot cleared his throat, and his friend stopped.

“How about… we just wait here for a while?” Cot smiled. “We’ve got the whole day to get home, and it’s comfy here. I just need to get off the grass.” He tried to move more into the center of the blanket, but found it almost impossible to move with his gut stuck to the ground. He pawed at the ground for a moment, blushing. “Ah… I think I might need a bit of a push…” Glade made his way around Cot, his eyes drinking in the soft curves and rolls all over. He got himself set up behind the pony’s titanic rear, Cot’s tail flicking back and forth mesmerizingly. “Okay, three… two… one… push!” They both heaved, Glade’s talons sinking in halfway to his elbow, and with an almighty grunt, Cot’s belly slid over the blanket, his legs straining against his new bulk. With Glade’s help, he made it to the centre of the blanket, panting, letting his legs relax and just rested on his belly. Cot beckoned Glade over to him, who was leaning against his belly, catching his breath as well. He paused for a moment, before laying a soft kiss on the griffon’s cheek. “Thank you.” Cot seemed about to say more, when his belly let out a ferocious growl. Glade grinned wide.

“Sounds like somepony’s still hungry.” Cot smiled sheepishly.

“Sounds like it.” Without another word, Glade took his leftover plate out of the basket, and brought a fry to Cot’s face. Without another word, Cot gobbled it down. Glade settled next to Cot, who draped his flabby foreleg over him. The griffon cooed, and nuzzled Cot’s neck as he brought another fry to his mouth, squeezing as much fat as he could.

Cot planted a kiss on the top of his head, then opened wide.