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MLP: Hayburgers & Hardware (AnonXTwilight, Feeder, Fat, Clop)
By TheManFromAnotherTimeCreated: 2020-12-18 00:58:05
Expiry: Never
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Hayburgers & Hardware
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Tags: AnonXTwilight, Feederism, Fat, Clop
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themanfromanothertime@gmail.com
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> "And I just don't understand how this could have happened..."
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"Mmm-hmmm"
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> You are Rarity, fashion pony, with a dozen pins in between your lips and a piece of chalk floating in the air as you try to deal with your current customer, Twilight Sparkle
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> The purple princess is standing on your costuming pedestal, wearing one of the formal ball gowns you made her a little while back
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> But instead of the fabric gathering nicely and flowing freely, it's stretched taut across her body
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> It's more than a little obvious that she's put on quite a bit of weight
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> You're chalking the seams where they need to be pulled apart, then pinning where they need to go instead
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> Luckily, you think you can salvage the dress.
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> Twilight puts her hoof up to her chin
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> "... I've been running a few magical experiments lately..."
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> This would be a lot easier if she would stop moving around
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> You try to speak with the pins still between your lips
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"Darwing, do wou wuppwose wou cwould-"
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> You fail to get her attention, and she stomps her hoof back down in excitement
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> "... Maybe one of my recent spells backfired and shrunk my clothes!"
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"Twiwight, dwon't wou wink-"
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> "... or even worse, what if I accidentally made myself giant-size! Oh no, that would be awful! Quickly, where's a measuring tape?!"
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> The purple alicorn casts her gaze around the room and, spying your measuring tape, seizes it in her magic
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> Whipping it over, she he twists her neck around and starts to clumsily measure herself, muttering mathematical formulas
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> You roll your eyes and sigh, then spit the pins back into their cup so that you can make yourself heard
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"Really, Twilight, you're blowing this all out of proportion"
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> She frowns
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> "Blowing this out of proportion? *I'm* out of proportion! This dress fit just two months ago!"
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> You adopt the detached, aloof air of a proper couturier
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"It certainly did, and very well if I do say so myself, but darling, please, you're not under any magic spell, you've just gained a little weight, that's all."
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> "But *how*? There's no rational explanation!"
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> Oh, yes there is, but you can't just come out and say it -- that would be a terrible faux pas.
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"Dearest, can't you think of *anything* that's changed between now and two months ago?"
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> "Well..."
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> She starts to ponder...
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> "... hmmm, no that's the same, ..."
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> "... err, well no, we still ..."
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> "... uh, except that wouldn't, uh... "
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> *sigh*
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"Has your diet changed, perhaps?"
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> "Well, no, I still have breakfast with Spike, on Mondays it's-"
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> She starts rattling off her entire weekly culinary itinerary, but she actually manages to skip over the *one* thing you know has changed
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> "-and every three Thursdays out of seven we have Caesar salad, but not if we've had casserole the immediate previous Wednesday-"
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> That's it, it's time for the Element of Generosity to be generous with the truth.
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"Twilight, what about Anon?"
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> She stops mid-sentence and stares blankly at you
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> "What about Anon?"
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> She still doesn't see it.
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"Haven't you been visiting his shop rather often?"
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> "Well, of course! He's been showing me all his interesting tools and machines! It's fascinating stuff; I think I've been there every single day since he opened up!"
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> Anon's shop was called "Hayburgers and Hardware".
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> The way he put it, if Ponyville could have a single store that sold quills and sofas, it could have one that sold both food and construction hardware.
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> Nails & screws didn't really go along with hayburgers & fries, but then again, neither did the aforementioned quills and sofas
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> 'At least my store's name got alliteration going for it', he'd joked
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> To his credit, he'd been making both sides of the business work very well
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"And haven't you been *eating* lunch there, despite your well-planned schedule?"
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> "I, uh... Well, I suppose I have."
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"Well, those hayburgers are hardly healthy, dear."
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> "But they're soooooo delicious! And, I *swear*, I always go in thinking 'No, I've had lunch, I don't need a cheese double hayburger with fries', but somehow Anon always talks me into having one..."
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> Suddenly embarrassed, she starts awkwardly scratching the back of her head
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> "... or two, or three.... I don't know how he does it."
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"You can hardly blame this on *him*, Twilight, unless he's actually forcing food down your throat."
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> "I suppose you're right. I hate to turn him down, though. He's so... friendly, I guess. Maybe it's a kind of magic?"
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> You chortle
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"Only if a charming personality is a spell."
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> Anon was an interesting specimen. Funny, witty, friendly, and with a lovely smile...
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> He wasn't really your type -- he liked to dress casually, and he wasn't terribly interested in *haute* *societé* -- but he was a bit of a flirt, so you'd had a few amusing back-and-forth conversations
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> Twilight interrupted your train of thought
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> "It's not like with Pinkie and sweets -- Anon doesn't gorge himself. It seems as if he just really likes making sure ponies get enough to eat."
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> You cover your mouth and start to giggle at that comment.
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"Making sure *mares* get enough to eat, perhaps."
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> "Huh?"
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> Oh, dear. She really does need it spelled out for her.
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> Adjusting the dress can wait; your friend needs help, first.
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> You shake your head and retire over to your sofa, lounging comfortably as you wave a hesitant Princess over
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"Oh, mon cheri, isn't it obvious?"
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> She joins you on the sofa, and as she sits you can see just how much her belly has grown, wrapped tightly by the silk dress
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> "No?"
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"He's a..."
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> How to put this delicately?
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"... Well, let's just say I think he... *enjoys* seeing mares with a healthy appetite."
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> Twilight tilts her head in confusion
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> "Enjoys... how?"
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"Well, it's a sort of..."
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> You grin awkwardly.
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"... fetish."
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> This is admittedly just speculation on your part
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> Well-founded speculation, to be sure, but it's not as if you have this from the colt's own mouth
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> "A *fetish*? I, uhhh-Sorry, Rarity, can you explain it a little better?"
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"Certainly, Twilight, but, please, realize that I'm fairly certain I'm correct, but I haven't heard this from Anon's own mouth, you understand?"
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> The Princess of Magic seems aghast
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> "You're only speculating? Rarity, I hope you're not spreading rumours!"
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> That put a bee right in your bonnet, so you snap at her in response
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"It's not a rumour! This isn't *gossip*, Twilight! I'm not going around telling everyone this!"
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> You manage to compose yourself again
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"I'm only telling you my extremely well-founded suspicion because it happens to be quite relevant at the moment. Now, look..."
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> You put your hooves out in front of you and start to explain
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> Twilight isn't completely ignorant of sexual matters, but this still feels a little like you're talking to a young filly.
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"Certain colts derive a certain kind of pleasure from watching a mare indulge herself. Some even like to *encourage* mares to do so. Such colts are particularly attracted to mares with a large appetite. The term for such colts is 'feeder', and the mares who indulge their passions are 'feedees'."
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> Your student/client isn't exactly slack-jawed and wide-eyed, but it's clear this is quite a revelation for her.
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> "And so these 'feeders'... *force* mares to eat?"
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"Force! Heavens, no -- not unless they're sick and twisted, and I don't have any reason to think that notre cher ami Anon is some kind of... 'force-feeder'."
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> The princess of magic seems to be dazed, and she gets a strange look on her face, turning away from you.
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"*All* I'm trying to say is that I'm fairly certain Anon is such a colt, so if you've been visiting him daily, and if he's been persistent in getting you to eat, well, that's just him exercising his rather particular tastes."
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> She just stares off. Did you break her?
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"And, incidentally, that's why your dress no longer fits. But I'm happy to fix it for you, so don't concern yourself about it. Though you should be a little more firm with Anon if you want to avoid him charming you into indulging in a second lunch."
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> Be Twilight
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> You came to Rarity's Boutique for a fixed dress, but instead you're getting hit by knowledge of a strange sexual fetish.
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> According to Rarity, Anon was a 'feeder'
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> All those times you'd gone and visited him, and he'd happily showed you his lathe, his forge, how he fashioned nails or screws or bolts
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> All those times he'd so clearly and eloquently explained so many interesting facts about construction and mechanics
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> All those times he'd cheerfully offered you one of his famous cheese double hayburgers, with a large fries
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> All of those lunch hours with the delicious, mouth-watering smell coming wafting over from Anon's grill
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> 'There you are! Wonderful day for a hayburger; what do you say?'
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> 'Can I tempt you with a new sauce that I'm *experimenting* with?'
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> 'Lunch hour is over and I've got this lovely batch of leftover fries going straight to the trash, unless you're interested?'
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> 'You're wasting away in that crystal tower, Twilight, have another one - I insist!'
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> 'I'm calling this one the Nightmare Mooburger -- It's got three kinds of cheese! Care to be my first customer?'
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> You'd said yes every time.
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> Reluctantly at first, but now it was almost like an addiction!
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> As a chef, Anon didn't have a very large and varied repertoire, but he was a masterful hayburger hawker
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> You had to admit, by now you were going over there for the burgers first and the hands-on engineering tutorials second
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> And as a natural result, you'd put on a lot of weight. Eighteen-and-a-half pounds, by your laboratory's hyper-accurate scale
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> Part of you had to sigh with relief: at least it wasn't some haywire magic spell or other disaster.
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> It was just your own apparent lack of self-control.
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> Case in point: just thinking about Anon's hayburgers and you'd already started salivating
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> You brushed a hoof against your mouth to wipe away the inadvertent slobber.
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> You look over at Rarity; she was still waiting on you with the same awkward smile a parent might wear when explaining where baby ponies come from to a foal
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"How certain are you about Anon's... fetish?"
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> Rarity tilted her head to one side and puckered her lower lip
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> "Ah, let's say... eighty percent? Perhaps even ninety? He's quite flirtatious, you know, and I've noticed he gets especially so when food is involved. And I know the type."
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> You cock an eyebrow
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"You do?"
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> "Yes, I belong to a little *ahem* social club. Among other activities, we often discuss such topics."
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> Oh, so she's met a few, then - and you had a pretty good idea where.
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"This social club wouldn't happen to be held in that basement room marked 'Private - No Admittance', would it?"
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> Rarity smirks and arches her eyes, the epitome of calm
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> "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."
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> If only she had a little fan in her hoof, the picture of aloofness would be complete
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"All right. I think I understand things. Thank-you for spelling it out for me, Rarity."
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> "Any time, Twilight. Just leave the dress and I can get to work."
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> You get up and pull off the outfit
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> Rarity takes it from you, but there's a look of genuine concern on her face.
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> "Might I inquire what you're planning to do about Anon? Oh, and please understand I didn't mean to disparage his character. I think he's a perfectly charming colt."
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"I'm not sure, yet."
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> You smile awkwardly
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"I suppose, whatever I decide to do, I'll probably be back in a couple of months to have that dress altered once again?"
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> She titters along with you
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> "Haha! Of course, darling! I am always happy to make sure Ponyville's Princess looks her very best! *Mwah*!"
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> You left Rarity's boutique minus one less dress in your saddlebag and plus one big question in your head
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> What to do about Anon?
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> At least he seemed to have Rarity's general approval, so it's not as if he was some kind of... sexual predator
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> And she'd made it clear that what you decided to do with your own body was up to you.
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> As for his particular sexual tastes, well...
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> ... there might just be a book about this you could look up later, in the library...
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> A Survey of Sexual Fetishes in Earth Ponies Aged 18-65
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> It wasn't a book after all, but it *was* a very scholarly article in the Journal of Psychoponology
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> Well, with such a fine work, how could you do anything but read the whole thing?
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> That might have been a mistake, even for a speedy reader like you, considering the article was over two *hundred* pages long
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> Who knew there were so many different kinds of sexual fantasies!
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> A few felt genuinely revolting, but most were simply confusing -- did ponies really get off on these things?
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> I mean, *licking* *hooves*? Colt-domination? *Diapers*? Fillies and foals?!?
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> Well, there were a lot of ponies, you supposed.
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> The authors had conducted interviews, surveys, statistical analyses and counter-analyses
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> As the hour grew late, your head started to swim with numbers and words
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> It was long past bedtime when you were finally done with the article and, more importantly, felt able to take a step back and think about how the facts in the journal applied to *you*.
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> But on that subject, you found yourself drawing a complete blank.
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> There was also the additional fact that Anon was *not* an Earth Pony
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> Might as well sleep on it
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> You settled in to bed, but your mind kept racing
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> So Anon was a feeder -- and, armed with the scientific knowledge from the article, you could see it for yourself
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> Looking back, it was all so obvious now
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> The way he would not just give you food, but join you at the table while you ate
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> When he was working or explaining things, he might get distracted by goings-on around him
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> But while you were eating a hayburger, then you had his full and undivided attention
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> It hadn't felt creepy at the time, and it still didn't in retrospect.
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> He'd been nothing but polite, usually engaging in light conversation.
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> He'd just been... interested.
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> *Very* interested
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> And when you'd agreed to have a second, or even a third...
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> Yes, he'd been hanging on your every bite, hadn't he?
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> And if you didn't go for the extra helping, he'd even pout a bit!
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> But when you did, he'd accommodated your every need
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> Extra napkins to wipe your face? Another drink to wash it down? Never a problem for Princes Twilight when she's at 'Hayburgers and Hardware'
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> He'd even laughed and fanned you with the menu when you complained of the heat today.
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> ... while you were downing your third hayburger
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> Come to think of it, he'd praised you when you managed to finish the huge meal!
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> And when you'd felt too bloated to waddle into his workshop for another lesson in steel metallurgy, he'd even chuckled and offered to pick you up and carry you!
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> Always with a pleasant smile on his face
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> And you'd agreed, eager to just get out of the beating sun!
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> He'd slung you over his shoulder, lifting you around the torso with those surprisingly strong hands of his...
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> Lying in bed, you licked your lips
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> Those were some delicious hayburgers today, weren't they?
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> They'd been grilled *just* right - seared on the outside and juicy on the inside
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> Always a fresh bun, lightly toasted with sesame or poppy seeds
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> Cheese decadently oozing out between the layers
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> A little mayonnaise, a little ketchup, a little mustard
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> Garnished with a farm-fresh tomato slice and a crisp cold lettuce leaf
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> Turning over, you bit your lower lip
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> Fries fresh out the burbling, crackling oil
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> Salty, greasy goodness, all of it
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> There was something particularly satisfying about it, wasn't there?
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> Not just the delight of eating, but the bliss of being full
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> You remember the way you had felt bloated and heavy, but content
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> You started to feel unusually warm underneath the bedsheets
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> Earlier, when Anon had picked you up, he'd been careful to grip you by your chest rather than your painfully packed paunch
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> But now you started to imagine him running his fingers delicately over your belly
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> Rubbing, caressing, teasing and lightly squeezing
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> Is that what he was really into? The book had said he might be. It was a related fetish
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> But you felt empty, now
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> You'd had dinner earlier tonight, of course, but you hadn't stuffed yourself
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> What if Anon had been there?
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> Would he have encouraged you to have seconds? Even thirds?
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> How full would you have allowed him to make you?
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> Your breathing became heavy just thinking about it
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> He'd fostered your hayburger 'addiction'
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> If only he knew about your sweet tooth, too.
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> What if he'd suggested a dessert after those three burgers and that enormous plate of fries?
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> Despite your fullness, would you have been able to say no?
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> What if he'd shown up at your palace in the evening, a box of pastries from Sugarcube Corner under his arm?
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> Would you have answered the door with a smile on your face?
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> Or instead a hungry grin?
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> What if he was here right now?
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> You reach a hoof down beneath your legs as the fantasy starts to materialize in your mind
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> You're lounging sideways on the divan
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> Anon is sitting on the ground, facing you
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> Hovering in the air, surrounded by a purple aura, is a hayburger
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> Five empty plates are stacked on the table beside you
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"Anon, I'm full"
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> "Come on, Twilight, I bet you can finish one more."
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> Your belly aches, gurgling away at the other four meals inside of you
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"No, my tummy is completely stuffed."
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> Your breathing is laboured, but you're deliberately pouting. You can eat the burger, you know you can.
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> But you want him to work for it
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> As if reading your mind, he reaches one hand up and starts to caress your bloated abdomen
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> His fingers delicately trace along your fur
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> They skip over a little hill where a roll of fat has started to form, and then he comes back and gently squeezes it
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> It feels wonderful
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"Mmmmm"
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> "Let me give you a hand."
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> You let him rub you for a little while longer before you answer
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"Okay"
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> He reaches up and grabs the burger in mid-air. You release your magic hold on it and roll onto your back
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> Anon gets up on his knees and bends over you
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> Your mouth hangs just barely open, as if you don't want the proffered meal
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> But you do
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> Oh, Celestia, how you do
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> But you want to feel him *make* you want it.
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> "You've got to open wider than that. It's a big burger."
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> You squirm your hips, grinding your legs together
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"I don't know if it'll fit."
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> His hand squeezes and softly jiggles your belly
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> With even just this little bit of stimulation, it wobbles back and forth of its own accord
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> "It'll fit. You're a big little pony."
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> As he lowers the hayburger, you close your eyes and open your mouth
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> You take one bite, then another, then another
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> In just a few seconds, it's all gone
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> But some of its grease and cheese are still on Anon's hand
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> Opening your eyes, you look up at Anon while you suck on each of his fingers in turn
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> There's such a mix of emotions on his face: excitement, awe, ...and lust
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> You lick your lips
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> Your gut burbles contentedly
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"My belly is still hungry"
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> Now both of his hands are attending to your body
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> "I don't have any more food, Twilight. You ate it all up."
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> He bends over and starts to kiss your tummy
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"I need more. I'm not full yet."
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> You plead as if helpless, but you place one hoof on Anon's head, holding it against your belly, while the other wanders over to his body
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> There's a stiff sausage underneath his pants
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> The next course
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> And you've got such a wet place to put it
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> As Anon slowly rolls you over onto your chest, you see him place one final platter down in front of your
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> It's four enormous cupcakes, already unwrapped
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> Behind you, you can hear him undress
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> Greedily, you reach out and pull the plate towards you
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> The first bite of dessert is already in your mouth when you feel Anon grab your hips and start to push into you
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> "I need you to finish that plate, Twilight."
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> Your reply is muffled by your stuffed cheeks
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"I don't know if I can. There's so many of them. My belly's not big enough... yet."
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> He grunts as he wraps his arms around you, taking it slowly at first
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> "Your belly is fantastic."
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> Another cupcake disappears inside of you
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"It needs to be so much *bigger*."
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> You hear him grunt behind you
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> "Goddamn."
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> He quickens his pace
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> He's starting to lose his composure
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> So are you. The third cupcake languishes halfway inside your mouth as you moan through it
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> The fetish is starting to disintegrate in the fires of sexual passion, and your belly is starting to be painfully tossed by his energetic pounding
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> It hurts, but it feels so good
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> You clench shut your eyes, breathing quickly through your nose
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> You're stuffed all over
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> "Finish *ngh* the cupcake for me... *huff* Please, Twilight..."
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> Now he's the one pleading, but he's not faking it
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> He *needs* you to finish or else he won't
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> You chew it once, twice.
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> It's a little difficult to focus on eating while Anon is rutting the Tartarus out of you
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> You tilt your head back, and Anon reaches out a hand, stroking the back of your neck
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> The third cupcake is now inside of you
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331.
> "The last one, please. I'm so close."
-
332.
> It almost feels like his member is swollen up with the desperation to explode
-
333.
> But you're not quite done yet
-
334.
> He just needs a little more encouragement
-
335.
"I'm saving that--NGGGH--one for dessert."
-
336.
> With a sudden fury, his hands move to seize your hips, and he lifts you up just that final inch
-
337.
> He pounds into you
-
338.
> The angle is just right
-
339.
> The depth is just right
-
340.
> The feeling is just right
-
341.
> Everything is just right
-
342.
"Agnhhh! Agnnnhhh! AHHHHHHHHHHH!"
-
343.
> With your final ecstatic moan, you glomp down on the cupcake and finish it in a single bite
-
344.
> "Nghhhhh!"
-
345.
> A loud groan behind you signals the creamy explosion inside of you
-
346.
-
347.
-
348.
> The fantasy is over
-
349.
> You're back in bed, alone
-
350.
> Except now the sheets are wet
-
351.
> Panting and sweating, you are a dishevelled, flustered Princess of Friendship
-
352.
> You stagger to your hooves and slowly trot off to the bathroom for a glass of water
-
353.
> And maybe a quick sponging
-
354.
> That was probably the hottest, wettest fantasy you've ever had
-
355.
> So, apparently, you are very much into the idea of this fetish
-
356.
> The question was how into it -- and how into *you* -- Anon really was
-
357.
> Looking up at yourself in the mirror, you knew what you had to do
-
358.
> You had a hypothesis
-
359.
> Starting tomorrow, it was time to test it.
by TheManFromAnotherTime
by TheManFromAnotherTime
by TheManFromAnotherTime
by TheManFromAnotherTime
by TheManFromAnotherTime