The Pigging Out Adventures of Anonfilly and Twilight (Archival copy)

 

 

 

You awake from another food-coma with a soft hiccup, rubbing your eyes with a chocolate frosting stained hoof as you feel your stomach churning in discomfort. After many weeks of being relegated to the position of designated bookshelf-duster, you've at the very least accumulated a lump sum of profit - just about all of which you've spent on Sugarcube Corner sweets. Unfortunately, as amazigoodenomatastifulbulous[sic] as Pinkie's confections are, there's an obvious side effect that would most likely worry most self-respecting people and ponies: that porky little green tummy resting between your legs.

 

You slowly roll onto that stomach, feeling it gently squish against your tiny bed before you prop yourself up against your front hooves, then stand upright. A gentle sway coaxes a tiny burp from your mouth, the air smelling of chocolaty frosting for a moment. For any onlookers, your body would be a testament to a lifetime of bad decisions and hedonism, but in reality, you simply don't get out enough to work your weight off, exacerbated by the fact that pony taste buds are incredibly sensitive to this Equestrian brand of baked goods.

 

You head to the bathroom to wash your hooves and face, silently observing your face as you do. Your fur seems to be only one of many soft parts of your face, the somewhat doughy flesh underneath dimpling as your expression shifts to a curious smirk. Your cheeks and chin are definitely soft, but for some reason you can't find the energy to muster up any kind of indignation at that fact. After all, you're reincarnated in a society of kids' cartoon characters who would probably use the opportunity to make up some schmaltzy lesson on unconditional friendship. That, or some kind of lesson on health at every size.

 

You drop from the sink to observe your pendulous melon-sized belly, but before you can dry your fur off, you hear a voice at the door.

 

"Anon, I think we need to have a talk about how you spend your bits!"

 

"Fuck off, I do what I want, I'm a grown ass man!"

 

"Don't talk like that to me, young mare! Open the door or I'll open it from the inside."

 

"I- you can't do that! You have no line of sight on the lock!" A short silence passes, and you hope that your sputtered response is actually true, but unfortunately, it is not. A purple aura envelops the doorknob, and you back up a bit so that the door doesn't bonk you in the head as it opens.

 

"Anon, I know you might not take Equestria seriously with your own history of less colorful living, but that doesn't mean that your health is unimportant."

 

"I know that and I don't care. If I'm gonna be living for another forty to eighty years, I might as well enjoy what I eat instead of living on a shitty diet just to add five more years to it. Life's short, healthy food sucks."

 

This statement actually gives her pause. She looks down at you with a discerning glare, as if judging your statement, until her face softens up to a seemingly kind countenance. "Well, if you really don't have a problem with a life of indulgence, that's fine. At the least, though, can you stop spending all your bits on food? I can buy that for you."

 

There's got to be a catch to this, you think to yourself. She wouldn't just acquiesce like that so quickly, right? She's got to be pulling your leg somehow. "And...what's the catch? Are you gonna cut my allowance?" She shakes her head. "Give me more work?" Another shake. "Make me go on runs every week?" Once more, the motherly figure simply shakes her head, smile not wavering in the slightest.

 

"No, if you wish to enjoy your sugary sweets and snacks, I'm more than happy to indulge your sweet tooth. You're an adult after all, hmm?" That look...

 

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An hour passes and you're called to the kitchen for a homemade breakfast to start your day off. Twilight calls you to the kitchen, her own side of the table loaded with a more balanced-looking assortment - sporting only two pancakes and another plate of eggs, spinach and yogurt. You approach the table, hopping to your seat and resting at the table with her. Your table is much more...decorated, with not only loads of chocolate-chip pancakes and plenty of milk, but also a heaping helping of hash browns. You pick up your fork and knife, getting to work on the meal happily without much trepidation. While you whittle away at your large meal, Twilight seems more interested in seeing what your limits are than eating her own comparatively pithy plates. In fact, she alternates between chipping away at her pancakes and nibbling at her spinach so slowly that by the time she's even approached the end of her breakfast, you're already done with half the stack and a third of your hashbrowns.

 

While you eat, your poor little gut noisily protests against your gluttony. Digestion takes long enough that only after a good ten minutes do you feel any fullness resulting from stuffing your little face. The feeling of your belly bubbling and complaining at you puts a blush on your cheeks, and you take a moment to drink some milk in the hopes of reducing the rising heat, to no avail. You're shamefully quite intrigued by your body's reasonable reaction to your hunger, and as you reach your last syrup-soaked, spongy morsel, you look up to see that you're not the only one.

 

You both simultaneously avert your eyes from one another as you return to your hash browns, your pace increasing even as you find the rapidly shrinking room in your bloated middle more and more discomforting whilst sitting on your haunches. In your desire to finish the meal and slink away to take a nap in your bed, you inadvertently make a little bit of a mess, greasy crumbs and sticky chunks of spongy hotcakes landing upon your chest and tumbling to the floor. Before you find the time to clean your fluffy little chest off, however, a napkin floats up to the spots and firmly rub the stains out of it, the wiping doubling as a nice little massage to your strained chest as some gas escapes your mouth.

 

"Oof, e-excuse me..." You mutter to yourself, your double chin gently swaying as you close your mouth. You hear the purple devil herself pipe up in reply:

 

"Oh, don't you worry about that. I'd worry more about that meal you're so close to finishing, hmm?" Your face becomes warmer at that little bit of encouragement, breath hitching for a moment as you struggle to come up with a retort.

 

"I...w-well you-....you can, you can just worry about......shutting up." She giggles at your expense, your fork escaping your grip as a chunk of heavenly confection is placed at your lips. You obediently take it into your mouth, chewing for a bit before swallowing and looking back up at her. "W-what's your angle, huh? You just gonna tease me until I give in, or do you get your kicks from watching me eat?" Despite the fact you normally don't care what these little pony shits think of you, something about Twilight's nudge sets you on edge...

 

"Angle? Anon, sweetie, nothing wrong with indulging, you said so yourself. I just find it funny that you're treating this like a competition."

 

"I have no clue what you're talking about, nerdlight." She hops from her seat, walking around the table and gently jabbing a hoof into your side. Your belly loudly growls in disdain, and you suppress a light groan with the last mouthful of sweets. "Nnf, ulp....cut that out or I'll tell Sunbutt on you."

 

"If you tell Celestia anything about your eating, couldn't I just as easily flip it over on its head and point out that you're enjoying being a little piglet?"

 

"Y-you take that back you bitch!" You shout out on impulse, face now reaching the hue of an overripe tomato as you drop your utensils and cradle your belly. "I'm not a piglet, I just - I like sweet shit, that's it."

 

"Sure you do.That's why you had almost a dozen pancakes and a full plate of hash browns, huh? Even when you're feeling full?" Her smugness rises as she knows you're in a vulnerable position, prompting you to lightly shoo her with your own hoof as you slowly climb down from your chair at the table.

 

"Stuffing myself has nothing to do with enjoying-huaaahhh~!" She presses her hoof against your belly harshly, sending shivers up your spine as you stumble backward into the chair. Much to your embarrassment, the jiggling fit it sends your body into forces another, slightly wetter belch out of your throat. "Bad touch!"

 

Despite your complaint, she simply leans down to you, a pensive expression on her face. "Okay, listen Anon. I'm not saying that you're a pervert. I'm...also not saying that you look cute this way. And I'm definitely not sayi-"

 

"You're a kinky bitch Twilight."

 

 

 

A long silence follows this. Now it's her turn to turn red and stammer in the attempts to save face. "I.....now you're not.....I only made you pancakes t-..."

 

You eventually decide to cut in, placing your belly-holding hoof on her shoulder. "Alright, listen, I'll forgive you, but only if you gimme a han- er, hoof here. I'm feeling pre-hic! - pretty full right about now. Can ya help me to my bed?" As you feel your weight slowly lift from the ground and float beside Twilight, you huff gently to yourself, rubbing your belly. The tautness within slowly lessens as Twilight carries you to bed, and your fullness subsides as your hoof slowly delves deeper within your skin with every moment that passes.

 

You almost lose track of time before suddenly you feel your head resting on your pillow, your eyes darting up and meeting Twilight's as she climbs on the bed beside you and pulls your covers over the two of you. "I want your honest input here, Anon..." She mutters gingerly, her hooves slowly gliding across your tummy and chest. "Does it feel nice being this soft and warm? Being massaged when you're full?"

 

"I....I don't mind it..." You murmur in reply, gut gurgling as you bite your lip to keep from making any lewd noises.

 

"Would you....if I were to keep supplying sweets and belly rubs for you....accept the consequences on your body?"

 

Your mind fogs up in your blissful state. A small voice in your mind berates you for even considering this absurd proposition, only to be beaten out by the pleasant feeling of hooves against malleable flesh. You succumb to your strange new lust, lying back spread-eagle so that Twilight can more readily access your midsection. She seems to take that as acceptance of her ministrations, putting more weight into her rubbing and working all the kinks out of your poor gut as pockets of air quietly escape your mouth.

 

"Twilight, hhf....as long as you're not taking me to the county fair as your prize hog...you can do whatever the hell you want."

 

Twilight immediately works the last of the knots out of your digestive tract, allowing you to finally rest the meal off fully, before giving your cheek a little peck and climbing off of you. "Now, I'll be going for a quick shopping trip to accommodate you. Feel free to rest as long as you'd like, I'll knock on your door when I get back."

 

Lying in bed allows you to feel the fat distributing across your body in real time, belly softening out as your flanks and hindlegs plump up. Your cutie mark slightly distorts as the skin stretches a little, little dimples starting to form around the glutes as your itty bitty teats seem just the slightest bit more supple beneath your belly, probably about as large as an apple in their combined mass.

 

Twilight's strange behavior continues to echo through your mind as you lie there, still so utterly confused. What kind of contrived forces of fate could have contorted your sweet tooth and Twilight's nascent fetishes into this softly padded weight, in mere months of living life as the filly? Do you truly feel up to Twilight's new diet, or will lines need to be drawn for your sake?

 

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Two weeks pass surprisingly fast, with each day flying right by in the same manner: eat, nap, eat, do your work around the library, and eat once more before Twilight massages you to sleep. Baking and cooking sweets for you becomes more difficult as she ups your caloric intake, eventually forking over the bits to simply get deliveries from Sugarcube Corner. Every meal consists of greasy, savory, sugary and toothache-inducingly sweet goods as well as calorie-laden juices and drinks, leaving you nearly pinned in place after each plate of the stuff. After the first week of eating in this manner, Twilight changes your bed's layout to facilitate breakfasts in bed, further upping your daily gains as the days pass in blissful gluttony and sloth.

 

You awake from your slumber like you have for the past fifteen days, stomach noisily protesting its emptiness far earlier than it normally does. You sit upright in bed with a groggy grunt, your belly pooling over your hind hooves as you start feeling the weight truly inhibiting your movement capability. Shifting your hefty gut coaxes a lazy belch out of your system, and as you huff and puff to get a whiff of the morning air, you smell Twilight getting to work on your morning hash browns.

 

"Hff, hell yeah~...hey Twi, can ya poof some muffins up here?" You call downstairs from the comfort of your bed, followed soon by a flash of violet light signaling the appearance of nearly a dozen blueberry and chocolate chip confections on your nightstand. You waste no time in chowing down, feeling your jowls shake and jiggle erratically with each bite you take. Your neckfat catches a few crumbs that fall from you in your large bites, and you quietly wonder if there's some way to pick the litter off of your person to eat without magical assistance. Hooves are losing their appeal more and more with every ounce added to your frame, the lack of dexterity making you yearn for proper hands once more. However, you know that'll never happen unless your reincarnation in Equestria is some kind of Buddhist karmic wheel spinning in your favor.

 

You polish five wrappers before Twilight enters your bedroom, just in time to catch you giving a powerful belch, strong enough to shake the bed slightly. "That all you got Twilight? Those're rookie servings, don't want your pig to starve over here~" You grin, patting your middle and allowing it to undulate for her viewing pleasure. The look on her face says it all as she closes the distance, placing the tray of food down in front of you and pouring a glassful of whole milk down your gullet.

 

"At this rate, I might need to request a royal stipend from Celestia to keep you fed, hmhmhm~" She teases, placing her cheek against your pendulous stomach and listening to its laborious digestion. "I was considering getting a small feast soon to celebrate your 300 pound milestone. You've grown up fast, you know!"

 

"God damn, 300..." you murmur to yourself, feeling a familiar tingle in your loins beneath your apron of bellyfat. "On someone as short as me that's amazing. All that growth, just because I take every chance to AJ's and Pinkie's baking, huh?"

 

"Well, that and your absurd portions on top of your sedentary lifestyle."

 

"Well, can't argue with that." You cram two muffins into your gullet, eating even their wrappers in your haste as she visibly loses her composure for a moment, clearly enjoying herself even more than you are.

 

"Celestia above, Anon, you're such a glutton it's almost inspiring..." She mutters under her breath, levitating the last muffins up toward your maw and allowing you to nab them out of the air.

 

"Well - ulp, mmn - if you feel like being a real kinky one...I can be even more greedy, huff, if you can scratch my itch..." You absentmindedly tease, reclining back as Twilight feeds you. Your front hooves reach down, cradling your belly and lifting it up to expose your poor virginal snatch, glistening with your greed fueled lust and needy impatience. "Could you do that for me?" Mere weeks ago, you'd have been offended at the notion of your stupid surrogate mom getting you off, but in the past several days of stuffing yourself, you've well and truly crossed that threshold. You need rutting and soon, or you're going to find some way to do it yourself. Well, maybe you wouldn't be very capable of waddling out of the library in search of a good dicking, especially given your newfound girth, but...you might find a toy shop or something to help yourself out with all the bits you have saved up.

 

"For you, honey? Anything~" She coos, reaching up and pecking your cheek before she climbs onto the bed and pushes your belly upward. You feel her snout teasing at your little filly bits, making you squeal softly in barely contained excitement as you continue stuffing your face. Her tongue teases at every little corner of your insides, slicking up your labia with her saliva and giving your clit the lightest of teases every time she hears you swallow a mouthful of food.

 

"Fuck, how much experience do you have at munching carpet? Can we do this on the daily?" You breathe out, panting softly as a sheen of sweat starts to cover your fur. The sexual favor not only warms your body to a nice scarlet blush, but riles you up painfully as you get worked up from the pleasure.

 

Twiliight lifts herself up from her position under your belly, licking her lips sensually. "Anon sweetie, I have five friends with benefits so close they know my every secret and desire. Trust me, before you arrived I was the kinkiest mare out of the six of us."

 

"Ghh, god you're the worst influence on me~...this poor little filly, subjected to your carnal lust at such a tender age..." Something about the nature of this line of thought stirs you up something fierce, making you gasp and moan to yourself as you close your thighs around Twilight's face as soon as you feel her tongue prodding around your depths.

 

Several minutes pass in absolute carnal bliss, food rapidly disappearing down your gullet as you get rewarded for all this time eating yourself into near-immobility. Your sweat slowly overtakes your fur and slicks you up, assisted by the light quaking of your slowly filling gut and digestive discomfort. In this haze of lust, everything about your current situation is nothing short of nut-busting pleasure. The noises made by your overworked digestive system, the shaking of your body as you ride your alicorn caretaker's face, your struggling heart and lungs in this burst of activity, the sheen of sweat, the pressure of gas in your system, and even the feeling of pastry crumbs littering your chest and belly all culminate in this lewd feeling of fulfillment.

 

As you finally reach your first orgasm as a filly, you collapse back on the bed, borderline wheezing as Twilight slinks out of your thighs and assists you in getting more sweets into your maw. She climbs back atop your belly, leaning upon it as she massages the mass of flab firmly.

 

"How do you feel now, Anon?"

 

"I...I feel like a fucking pig....stuffing myself for a feverish kinkster to ogle and grope. Am I nearing the truth there, Twi?"

 

"Mmn...how's that feel for you?"

 

It takes a few moments of thinking before you can muster up a reply: "Amazing."

 

"Good. Now open up, you've got more left to eat."