The belly is a wonderful thing

Of course, that is not to discount the rest of the body. Wide, jiggling flanks. Pudgy cheeks. Prominent second, third, even fourth chins. Tubes of fat surrounding fore and rear legs. Sad, useless wings, the central structure of which becomes filled with blubber, good only for patting what little of the belly they can reach. Magnificent unicorn horns, not growing fat themselves or even being buried in it, but facilitating further growth in those fortunate enough to be born a unicorn, or ascend to alicornhood.

But as beautiful as a rear end that overflows multiple seats and gets stuck in doorways is, as wonderfully cute as a face surrounded by a soft sphere of blubber is, none can truly compare to the belly. None other can both expand with obesity over time and expand in real-time from an ongoing feast. None other can grow so large as to reach the ground while standing at full height.

That very first moment, when the belly first touches the ground, is such an exhilarating feeling. It truly means you are growing into a properly successful pony. In order to reach this state, one must be sufficiently large and heavy already, and have an adequately hearty appetite. For most, this means the belly must reach past the knees on what should be a quite rare occasion: an empty stomach. The closer to the ankles above the hooves, the better the chances. Those who have truly trained their appetites and stomach capacities can reach the floor with their engorged bellies as early as when their emptied bellies just barely reach their knees. However, most with such extravagant capacities are already in various stages of permanent immobility.

Those of weaker constitutions feel fear and concern, realizing just how elephantine they’ve allowed themselves to grow. Others may feel pride and accomplishment instead. They are correct. Also correct are those who feel excitement. I rather enjoy when one reaches this stage, for I know it is over. It is nearly impossible to reverse course at this point. Regardless of their stomach capacity, appetite, or base unfed size, once a meal causes a belly to touch the ground, every following meal will share the same fate. The existing body fat and stomach capacity are just too large to avoid it.

That wonderfully rotund belly will continue growing bigger, rounder, softer. Every meal causes the belly to meet the floor until it is sufficiently digested. Each day, that ground-rubbing lasts longer and longer. Soon, even between-meal snacks push the belly into the ground, and full meals make it impossible to move until they are digested. It isn’t much longer until that sweet, beautiful belly is on the ground at all times, only escaping its fate then its owner rolls over to lay on their side or back.

This, this is when things are truly over. There is no turning back. Before now, despite appetites, they could still struggle to exercise and lose weight. Now, slowly lumbering from place to place is a serious endeavor. They get tired too quickly. Even if they wish to lose weight, they will end up hailing a heavy-duty cab within minutes to get where they want to go – inevitably, somewhere with food and drink that will effortlessly and completely counteract any calories they may have waddled or sweat off.

More, more, more! Their stomachs cry, demanding ever-larger feasts with every meal. Their range of mobility shrinks more and more until they can barely make it from one room to another without being winded, to the door leading outside without being completely drained. Those with self-control can make it far enough to take a cab to somewhere to eat, and leave for home, or another place to eat, once they regain mobility. Others will have mobility only when they first wake up, and find themselves trapped in place from their first breakfast until bedtime, as they find themselves ordering and eating more food before their bellies have finished digesting and returning to their true size.

It simply can’t be helped. At such a large size, and the amount of overeating required to get there in the first place, the stomach is stretched so large it is impossible to eat less. Their tastes are so aligned with sweets and fattening foods, their caloric intakes make it impossible to lose weight. Eventually they will hit a plateau where their costs of living equal their intake, but they are likely to – accidentally or intentionally – push themselves a bit too far with a meal, eat a bit too big a dessert, start snacking a bit too soon, replace a bit too much of their liquid intake with heavy cream and milkshakes, and begin growing ever more rotund once again.

Pounds grow into tons, flanks grow to the point they join the ground touching party, faces bloat rounder and rounder, useless wings and legs grow into tubes of blubber. Even still, the belly reigns supreme. Depending on how the blob of a pony was laid when their mobility was lost forever, it can become either of three things:

The island their lives are lived on, growing wider and taller by the day.

The island forming above them, growing wider and taller by the day, primed for that fateful day where it once again first meets a surface it was not meant to touch: the ceiling.

The wonderful, giant mass spreading to their side, approaching the opposite wall.

By the divine providence of our times, everypony can afford this wonderful life, including both the food and the machinery needed to take care of hygiene and health needs. No need to worry about work or chores. Simply lay in place, eating your immobile form ever larger, speaking with your equally whale-like friends and family through video call devices. Somepony else will take care of all the work, until they too grow too large to work. Then it’s somepony else’s problem. You can simply relax, waiting for the celebratory message to appear when you’ve hit the next weight milestone, thinking of the mare who just called you to confirm your order looked shocked and then understanding as soon as your video feed kicked on.

How quickly her cute, pudgy face contorted through multiple expressions. The way her body filled up nearly all of the camera’s field of view, how tight and strained her uniform was, how the fashionable collar she wore was buried in neck fat, how when she turned to the side to shout to a coworker her apron was untied and her belly was quite prominently bulging out between her shirt and her pants. She had to be at least six hundred, didn’t she? And you, with your face alone being too large to fit in the video screen, when is the last time your weight could even be measured with a mere three digits? It was sure nice of her to forget the call was still going when she sat there eating, waiting for your order to finish baking. Shoving hayburgers into her mouth as her belly sagged forth. Just like you when you were in her horseshoes, eh? How long did you think it would take for her to resign from her job and sign up for welfare because she couldn’t make it through the work day anymore? She did seem to be regretting having that meal when she had to be the one delivering your meal to you. Come to think of it, her belly had been touching the ground then, hadn’t it?

The belly is a wonderful thing.