Golly: a MLP weight gain story

An ecstatic series of wub-wub-wubbing was heard from finely fattened chonkmeisters on a built-in stage. Performing what could be described as "blob music" one a grey, refined sophisticated violinist with a black perm named Octatavia, or Octavia outside the stage. And a white, shade-wearing blue-haired dubstep DJ named Vinyl Scratch. Who served a crowd of hundreds in both ponyville and the nearing town of canterlot. Rocking and jiggling their engorged groove things with incredible finesse the sweat bounced off their bodies and onto the floors below.

Vinyl scratch, with her rapidly expanding size, she could easily carry all of her record-scratching EDM gear within her back flab, and rolls. Her horn doing most of the work for her, leaving her plenty of time to feast and gahlump up and down. And her sweat-proof stereo system was custom built right inside of her cavernous keister, the sub-woofers boosted to their highest level to give the sexiest bass drops, weather amplifying her farts or jiggling her wobbly marshmallow fanny cheeks like they were struck by a tornado.

As for Octavia, her only instrument was the fiddle, but even with the assblasters right inside of her lardy lover, she could still play as loud as them. Feverishly working the elongated bow she used to reach the fiddle on the other hoof. And playing it so hot and feisty you'd think it would have caught fire by the first concerto's end. Along with the rest of her sweat-greased mass of elephantine fuzz.

And that wasn't their only trick, that came in the form of a veiny double-ended dildo that Octavia has wedged in the center of her puffy rock quarry of an ass. Every once in a while, she would back the multi-foot marital aid right up into vinyl's gyrating stereophonic money maker. And bashing the sucker in and out, making them both moan and wail as loud as their chosen instruments, which harmonized surprisingly well with the music they played. Oh, how they love to bump and grind. As they played on and ate on, indulging in everything they loved at the same time. Such a twin-pegging jamboree was the perfect accompaniment for scootaloos supple snack of candied oats and whole stretchers of taffy.

These were happily provided by another treat-baking blob of a pony named bon bon, who nuzzled her cheeks into the glutting mare as she bulked up alongside her, and her wife, an equally blobby and quite silly green unicorn by the name of Lyra. Who attempted to put on a quadruple XL pair of jeans, stretching it across her flabby skin and blubbery Verdigris voluminosity. In spite of the fact nopony needed to wear pants.

Scootaloo lethargically craned his head upward from the sticky combination, tearing a string of taffy off her face that stuck to the tub she noshed it from, to run her hooves across her sweating oval of a belly. Before turning up to thank her hostesses "mmmff....thankth again fer....slurp....slurp.....inviting me ovvfur.....gulp....guess youve been seeing how beeg im becuuming..." she said, working through a mouth full of wet oats and taffy sticking to every tooth and gumline.

"Oooh, the pleasahs all ours, your such a sweet lil gal, we can't help but want tah fatten you up~" replied bon bon, saying the words Scootaloo had been hearing since the moment he was conscious, yet they never seem to get old, neither did the affection of those who uttered it. Like with the swirly-haired tanker of tub reaching down to blow raspberries on her hoof-lifting tummy, which was quickly rounding her out to a Steller five tons.

The silly yet affectionate raspberries made tremendous oceanic ripples in the library of folds surrounding Scootaloo on all sides, the ripples vibrating all the way to his various jowls, which now stood atop his sloping front with the resemblance of an uneven rope ladder. All these ripples were so deep even her mane and her eyes twitched trancedly. "Oooooh, Celestia....a move like that deserves a special gift from yours truly~" Scoots smugly added, as she puffed her cheeks up, ready for the gastrointestinal signal to unleash one of her trademark belches in this soft and squeezable get-together.

"Oh, word~? Tavi! She's gonna do the thing" said Vinyl, turning the volume down on her bass to catch this overstuffed pumpkin's masterful eructation's. Causing Octavia to gasp in delight, "She is, she is!!!" placing her two bingo-winged hoofs on her van-sized stomach, for lack of being able to reach her face with all that soufflé-like flab- swelling. She reached for an extra wide snare drum, and two drumsticks. Nudging the set to the front with her snoot, and with great enthusiasm performed a drumroll, waiting for the room to be filled with the booming command of this big rig of blubber.

Sweat plowed down everyone's fuming fannies, a few silent farts blasting off, the pre-blech atmosphere already smelling of the scent of uncouth and unbathed pony tallow. Just the way scoots liked it, warm, hot, sticky, musky, and ready to be blown away.....

"UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURP" she bellowed, loud as a gong, and powerful as a gunshot. Instantly the smell of rancid cheese and candy was filling the corpulent corners of the room, her breath ablaze with a stench that could stop a butterfly in midair. And have it diving headfirst into her flabby grottos of folds for another whiff.

The room stayed silent for a brief spell, apart from the sharp and prolonged inhalations of the quartet of portly porkers. And the odd shudder and possible orgasm, it was hard to tell especially when they needed somepony else to locate their own erroneous zones. And after the silence, they filled the atmosphere with cheers for the pony who expelled more gas than a ground fissure. Everypony slapped their blubber like seals warning of a killer whale nearby.

Scootaloo bowed as best as his chunky flesh-pot of a head would allow. "Thank you....thank you.... I'm quite proud of it myself~" blushing and tucking into her vat of liquified calorie-bombs. Just around the time Lyra somehow managed to fit the pair of ill-fitting jeans around half of her body. "Tadah~! See bon blob, told ya i could do it....hnnng....now.... let's see how much it takes for them to rip" Lyra excitedly announced, already mowing a bowl of buttercream frosting, causing her already overworked jeans not meant for contours that fit better on a blimp than a pony, to violent creak and rumble. The stitching soon gave way around her waist as the buttons on it quickly popped off and landed all on top of each other square on the nose of scootaloo with impeccable balance.

They didn't stay there for long as Scootaloo quickly gobbled them up and sent them to meld with the rest of the 5 billion calories inside, expanding her faster than manifest destiny. "Heh....you gals are just full of surprises" complimented Scootaloo, shifting and jiggling in excitement with her fellow plumpened peach carriers. "Say, how bout another song, scratch, and tavi~?"

"You got it, lil bro, let's crank that volume up to eleven and get this party started~!" vinyl shouted, cranking up her booty bass and ripping the nastiest bass-blasted farts so hard they could blow out a whole row of speakers. Meanwhile, Octavia rosined up her bow and fervently fiddled it like she were in a bet with Tartarus itself. All the while they all leaned in closer to Scootaloo, to give her a five-way saturnalia of smooching and belly bumping. Spongey sweat-soaked folds slapped against their beloved blob as she ate like a king, and dolled out hoof fulls of the regenerating slop to her adoring coeval corpulents.

The whole house was bursting with the cacophony of booming dubstep, fervent violin, fart, belches, stuffing, and the ominous sounds of a creaking cottage now under the duress of a combined 25 tons of blubber all rubbing up against one another, and pushing every article of furniture to its walls. Seems plain this would be the second house detonation scootalard would be taking part in in the span of 24 hours.

And once they burst out of their fat-confining dwelling, the whole town could be witness to the slapping and smooching and wub-wub-wubbing of buttocks born beats. Who themselves were beginning to burst open their thatched cottages, rapidly expanding blobs of ponies looked on through the windows, now wearing the reed, straw, and clay of their house as mere clothing.

Everypony cheered on their own town's structural defacing, inspired by the charismatic spirit of lovable feedable scootaloo. Face a glaze with stains and wide-smiled enthusiasm, and as she witnessed the last wall break away from her flab-sinking face, revealing the glorious sunset glowing as brightly as she did, and took in the adoration echoed for miles around, she truly knew this was nothing to sneeze at, this was a movement, a calling. Scootaloo a meaty malleable messiah with thousands of of her fellow porkers willing to do anything for her, or to be next to her.

If her mind thought of it, she could bring them all to their buried knees, and have them gahlump to her wide open muzzle, but all she really wanted to do, was keep eating and gaining, and see everypony else do the same. So in a loud and steady voice, she cleared her throat and called out to the sea of several-ton formless flab piles before her.

"Ahem.....alright everypony, who else wants to stuff their face with the great scootalard~?" she boomed, for lack of proper arm movement from those in the thousand-pound throngs on account of them being permanently sunken in their offseason winter coats of blubber. And for the fact they were stuffing their cheeks full of limitless caloric bumper crops. They blew astringent gusts of bodily petrol from both ends, shaking the remaining bits of their own homes off their tremendous towering frame, many of which dribbled and tumbled down their staircase of sweat-moistened chins, or simply dived off their rustling cetacean crappers.

She whiffed the pungent sour air of the crowds, feeding on their devotion to being the fattest they could be. And giving off a massive sigh of arousal. "Ill take that as everyone, well come on down, you big beautiful blobs, let's dig in!!!" her simple request led to another round of cheers from stuffed faces, shooting off residue from what their faces were crammed with. Almost as loud as the blaring butt-step, and the fervent grumbling of their industrial-grade stomach spilling's. A good percentage of which were made up of just Fluttershy's menagerie. Adding to the loud and proud bellows of the fastest-growing town on the planet.....