The crowd cheered loudly as the first of the brilliant blue and gold fighter planes coasted around the corner towards the hangars. Although the climax of the show had already passed, it was not yet over. When the Wonderbolts were involved, everything was exciting. From their harrowing take-offs to the nail-biting landings, every moment was another spent on the edge of one's seat, and another testament to the skill and dedication of the pilots. Spitfire smirked to herself in her cockpit and waved, enjoying the excitement she granted others just by doing her thing. Today's show had been particularly good, the maneuvers crisp and well-executed as ever, and Rainbow Dash managed to pull off her new maneuver she'd been working on flawlessly. She might still be young, brash, and boastful, but even Spitfire had to admit that the mare could fly a plane like very few others could. She reminded her of a younger version of herself, in many ways. Coasting to a stop at her designated spot, the groundsponies rushed forward to chock her wheels as the engine began to whine down. To her right, her #2 Soarin pulled in and flashed her his signature grin and thumbs-up. To her left, Fleetfoot smoothly rolled into her spot and gave her captain a knowing smirk. Spitfire rolled her eyes at the playful mare, the two going back and forth with their usual post-show shenanigans. One by one the rest pulled into position until all eight of the squad were parked in formation. With a sharp click and hiss, Spitfire's cockpit hatch disengaged and flipped open, exposing her fiery golden hair to Celestia's gorgeous evening sun. Pulling off her mask and helmet, Spitfire let out a sigh of relief as the uncomfortable pressure around her middle disappeared with a satisfying *click* as the safety belt rapidly recoiled from her frame, the space it once occupied quickly being filled by her suddenly curveaceous figure. "Aaaah, finally some breathing room..." she sighed to herself, stretching a bit and flexing her wings in appreciation of her newfound space. As the dull roar of the crowd made itself known to her ears, Captain Spitfire braced her hands against the cool, smooth glass and with a grunt and a soft *pop!* she escaped the cramped space of the cockpit. It seemed to be a tighter squeeze than usual these days, but Spitfire paid it no mind. She grinned to herself as she waved at the crowd. If anything, her increasingly voluptuous form only seemed to increase her popularity, the stallions in particular seeming to fall over each other just trying to get a glimpse of her supple curves. She couldn't care less that her body didn't conform to the norm for pilots like her, nopony was saying anything as long as she could still fly like a pro and command the respect of the team, both of which she did with an almost unnatural ease. Climbing down from her aircraft and joining the rest of her team on the tarmac, Spitfire was looking forward to what came next... Dinner. ~~~~~ "Bbbuuwaaarrrup! Oof, 'scuse me...*HIC!*" Spitfire tried and failed to suppress the latest in a lengthy series of deep, satisfied belches; for satisfied she most certainly was. As one might expect, dinner for a successful Wonderbolts team was a sumptuous affair to say the least. And Spitfire was far beyond the point of denying herself the tasty food she craved. Add in the fact that there had been healthy pours of champagne and cider going around the table, and man did that just make Spitfire want to eat even *more*. Thus it came as little surprise that the corpulent captain ate more than anypony else at the table. Even Soarin', with his well-renowned appetite, was outdone by at least three plates. Spitfire leaned back in her comfortable chair with another hiccup and a satisfied groan, her hands falling to the sides of her engorged yellow tummy that stretched almost to her knees as it filled her lap. As dinner had been a semi-formal affair, the Wonderbolts had changed into their military dress uniforms: crisp blue jackets and pants and white button up shirts. Suffice to say, Spitfire's was no longer buttoned fully. Though not egregiously visible to the rest of the table, a quick glance underneath the fancy tablecloth would reward one with a full view of that gloriously glutted gurgling golden gut. "Aaaahh, *HIC!*, oh yeah that hit the spot..." Spitfire sighed contentedly, gleefully basking in the feeling of utterly satiated fullness she'd grown to love so much mixed in with the wonderful giddyness that came from being drunk. To her right, Fleetfoot rolled her eyes and shot her tubby captain a bemused smirk. "Geez...Shpits...ya finally *HIC!* have enuff?" Her unfocused gaze cast over the table and its horde of empty dishes and bottles, not able to fully take in the scene of destruction but cognizant enough to know there wasn't much of anything left. "Tho...e'en if ya din't...I don' *HIC!* fink dere'sh anyfin left!" Though Spitfire may have been drunk, with all the food she ate she was nowhere near as plastered as her lighter, thinner companions. Another short belch made its way up from the roiling depths of the sore, swollen stomach. "URP! Aaaah...yep, I ain't...in the habit of *HIC!* leaving good food...on the table," Spitfire purred proudly, her eyelids starting to feel heavy as the combination of a glorious food coma and drunkenness began to take hold. Only to be immediately dispelled by an excited-sounding Soarin': "Woohoo dezhert!" Dessert? Well, Spitfire supposed she still had a *little* bit of room left...and those pies certainly looked delicious! Visibly perking up in her seat, Spitfire's attention was drawn keenly to the several platters making their way out of the kitchens and onto their table, swiftly replacing the empty trays with sweet, succulent treats. Already salivating slightly at the sight of such temptations, Spitfire's intense devouring with her eyes was interrupted by a drunken scoff from another section of the table. Turning irately to sharply reprimand whomever just interrupted, her gaze was met by none other than the rookie Rainbow Dash, who was staring her down with a look of utter bewilderment, her cheeks flushed a bright rosy red as the alcohol coursed through her veins. "Spitfire..." she slurred slightly, having to take a moment to regain her balance after swaying unsteadily on her feet. "You can't be...serious! After all that, how could you possibly want...more?" The Captain of the Wonderbolts smirked at her ignorance. She had forgotten this was Dash's first real aftershow party, and was as of yet unaccustomed to her indulgent habits. Chuckling, she heartily patted her visibly stuffed stomach, prompting a low gurgle of digestion to sound out just loudly enough for those closest to hear. "Oh you have no idea, Cadet," she replied dismissively, as if Rainbow's protests were the most ridiculous questions she'd ever heard. "Even after all that, I could still eat you under the table, *easily*," she boasted proudly, rising to her feet with a soft grunt and presenting her gloriously stuffed gut for all to see. "WHAT?!" Rainbow's famously competitive temper flared up immediately at the challenge, a dismissive sneer on her face as she gestured towards Spitfire's belly. "You're kidding. She's joking, right? Look at yourself! You look like you just swallowed a bowling ball! There's no way!" Spitfire grinned fiercely, the smile on her face not quite reaching the fiery depths of her eyes. "Oh, you have no idea, Dash. Care to test that theory for yourself? You and me, right here, right now. Last mare eating wins." Rainbow guffawed at that, an equally eager smile on her features. "I mean, sure, if you really want to embarrass yourself! This won't take long at all." By now, the two feuding mares had the attention of everypony at the table, including... "Allow us to raise the stakes, if you please..." a quiet but powerful voice spoke up from the far end of the table, immediately commanding all attention in the room. There, seated in all his regal glory, sat Prince Artemis himself. The Prince cut an imposing figure, made only more pronounced since his long-awaited return from the moon. His broad shoulders made him look larger than he really was, his arms slender but wrought of hardened, corded muscle. Rising to his feet, he made his way towards the center of the table, his strides long and meaningful, his gaze focused on them intensely. Though he wasn't exactly a bodybuilder, his compact physique exuded a rugged, wiry strength and toughness few could even hope to match. "As you all know," he continued, his voice not loud and yet still seeming to fill the entirety of the spacious hall. "The Grand Galloping Gala is just a few short months away, and as our first since returning we hope to make a memorable impression..." He paused for effect, his seemingly impassive gaze flicking between Rainbow and Spitfire as he spoke. "We have not yet found a partner to accompany us," he continued. "We wish to have a mare of strong will by our side, resolute in who she is and what she can do, capable of more than what first impressions might suggest..." He licked his lips, the intensity in his gaze holding them both captive as his mane billowed regally behind him, both mares hanging on his every word. "Here we see a war of willpower on the brink of being waged, and we cannot help but wonder to ourselves...which of these confident and capable young mares will outlast the other? Who will prove to be the stronger of the two? This we most dearly wish to know..." he trailed off before his horn lit up and two desserts slid forward across the table, a pie for Spitfire and a cake for Rainbow. "So please, if you will indulge us..." The room was so silent one could hear a pin drop, such was the tension in the air. "Show us how far you are willing to push yourselves, and may the winner receive their well-deserved reward..." Spitfire and Rainbow glanced first at the desserts, and then at each other, both brows furrowing as their competitive natures, fueled by lust and greed and pride, kicked into overdrive. "Dash, you know I love what you bring to the team, but you're in over your head here. Don't make me put you in your place," Spitfire warned. This was met by a brash rebuttal: "In your dreams! You're like, the coolest captain *ever*, but get real! You can't possibly expect to win after gorging yourself like a prized pig!" Spitfire grinned. Oh, how she loved it when they thought they could best her. It was cute, really. "Alright, but don't say I didn't warn ya!" And with that, far too many words had already been said and far too much time wasted. Plopping her padded ass back down on her seat cushion, the fiery orange mare pulled her dessert in close before greedily shoving her muzzle right into it, gulping and snarfing loudly and messily, determined to show the upstart young cadet who was really the boss around here. "That's it! You're going down!" And she too, took a seat and scooped a heaping forkful of cake, moaning delightedly as she chewed loudly. "Ohph man!" she exclaimed with her mouth full, spewing crumbs everywhere before taking a heavy swallow. "Ahhh...beating you is going to taste even sweeter than this cake!" Spitfire only belched in reply as she raised her face from the empty pie tin, licking at the blue stains on her fur as she stared hungrily at Artemis. Eyes widening, Rainbow attacked her cake with renewed fervor, determined not to lose this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that was surely as good as in the bag! A faint smirk made its way onto the Prince's face as he placed an entire stack of fresh confectioneries in front of both mares as they dug in with gusto, the rest of the Wonderbolts too drunk to really understand what was going on other than that it was a competition of sorts, the onlookers hooting and hollering as they loudly placed bets and cheered on one side or the other. Turning to a nearby servant, Artemis addressed them curtly. "We will be needing more desserts, we think. Have the kitchen staff continue bringing them out." The petite mare gulped as he towered over her, happy to serve the royal siblings but still slightly intimidated by the Prince. "H-How many should we bring, m-my lord?" Artemis smirked devilishly, the most emotion he'd yet shown all night. "All of them." With a hasty nod, the servant mare scurried away to carry out his orders. Now to sit back and enjoy the show... ~~~~~ Artemis mentally congratulated himself as yet another empty plate joined a towering stack of its brethren, the one responsible letting loose with a short belch before digging in to their next dessert with determination. As he watched the two mares gorge themselves further and further, he couldn't help but reflect upon how this was going better than even his most wild expectations could have imagined. It was so empowering, seeing these mares willing to nearly eat themselves to death just to win his favor, and he reveled in every moment of it. By now, the only ones left conscious in the room were the two contestants, the prince, and the constant stream of server ponies bringing fresh desserts before whisking away as many empty platters as they could handle. With all the excitement going on, even more alcohol had been poured and ingested, and most of the team had finally collapsed into drunken stupors, completely oblivious to the world around them. Rainbow and Spitfire hadn't been spared either, both of them frequently taking hearty swigs of drink as they struggled to cram even more sugary, doughy goodness into their increasingly-packed bellies. To each mare's credit, they'd been going strong for almost an hour now, each having consumed more sweets than the average pony would ingest in a month! Rainbow groaned as she pulled over another cake, her chest rising and falling with her rapid-fire breathing as she took a brief moment to steel herself before shoving her food-stained muzzle into her newest victim, moaning forlornly as she continued to eat. Both her hands were currently occupied, doing their best to soothe the troubled orb that sat heavily in her lap, swollen and gurgling and churning away at the incredible mound of dough packed within. She was impressively swollen, the outermost curve of her stomach just starting to reach past her knees, churning and quaking visibly in digestive distress. Her jacket was down to only one last fastened button, nestled beneath her heaving bosom and resting above her straining tummy. Her undershirt fared no better, having been gradually undone over the course of the evening by her increasing need to feel ventilated and unconstrained. Icing and filling covered her hands and were splattered copiously upon her not unimpressive cleavage as she sluggishly forced yet another heaping handful into her languidly chewing maw. Her eyes were slightly glazed as she chewed and swallowed mechanically, her fiery spirit dulled by a mountain of sugar and rivers of alcohol. Across from her, Spitfire was not faring much better. Already much fuller than her opponent had been to begin with, she was starting to really test the limits of her stomach and willpower by now, even with all her practice increasing her appetite. Whereas Rainbow was still at least partially clothed, Spitfire was almost completely undressed, her jacket long shrugged off and her shirt hanging open on either side of her, leaving nothing but a light-colored bra to keep her decent, both of which were currently heavily stained various fruity colors along with large swaths of her fur, particularly her cheeks, neck, chest, and upper belly. Pounding a particularly uncooperative pound cake into her mouth, Spitfire scooped up the nearest open bottle and upended it in her throat, long, powerful gulps disappearing into her wildly bloated depths as she desperately chugged away, forcing the dry, spongy cake into her belly with a deluge of liquid goodness. Her belly groaned ominously as it visibly expanded to accept this latest offering, the empty bottle pulling away from her gaping maw with a reverberating *bbbBBBBBBUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPP!!* Discarding both her empties, she groaned as the simple act of grabbing more put even further pressure on her wildly distended tummy, minuscule as it might have been. And what a fantastically swollen belly it was. Were she capable of standing, the heaving yellow orb attached to her would hang well below her knees, extending more than a foot past her voluminous chest and bulging obscenely to either side, easily visible from directly behind her as she gorged with abandon. Stretched well beyond what it was previously accustomed to, its surface was starting to flush a dangerous shade of red, jagged angry stretch marks starting to appear at its widest point. But Spitfire paid none of this any mind at all, focusing only on the thrill of the feast and on outlasting her uppity opponent. Though she would never admit it, Rainbow had put up way more of a fight than Spitfire had been expecting. Seriously! Where did a mare her size put it all?! If she had known Rainbow was capable of such rampant gluttony she might have thought twice about challenging her as she did. But it was too late now, she had no choice just to press on. She would *not* allow herself to lose a battle of wills, even if she popped trying. After all, Artemis was right there, surely his powerful magics would be able to save her somehow. At least, that's what she told herself as another worrying twinge of agony shot up her side, prompting the mare to release an anguished groan, losing a fair amount of what was in her mouth to the valley that was her cleavage. Gulping heavily, she looked up at her opponent, who looked equally as distressed as she felt. "Urgh...gi-*HLRK!*" Spitfire gagged as her insides tried desperately to rebel, but the fiery captain would have absolutely none of that, forcing it all back into her creaking gut with a pained swallow. "Guh...g-give up, Crash...you can't win...oooooggh..." Despite the obvious pain on her face, that flash of indignance flitted across her face yet again, the rainbow-maned mare snarling in protest. "N-No way...I'll never quit...I'm the best...I...ohhhhh my bellyyyyy..." she trailed off, groaning in anguish as she clutched her ominously rumbling stomach. Seeing each other's moments of weakness, both mares crammed yet another heaping mouthful of dessert into their maws, moaning and whimpering as they forced themselves to continue. It was at this point that Artemis stepped forward. "It has become clear to us that you are both nearing your limits," he began, both mares welcoming the brief respite as they watched him from where they sat, hunched over, cramping, and miserable. "We think it is time to present your final challenge," the prince continued, gesturing at the two half-eaten pastries. "Finish your plates, and then we shall see about finding our winner." It was not an invitation or a suggestion by any means, it was absolutely without question a *demand*. Neither of them feeling particularly keen on drawing the prince's ire, they each increased their pace, ignoring the desperate complaints of their massively overstuffed bellies in their mad bid to fulfill his command. *BBBBUUUUWWWWAAAAAARRRRRRRRAAAAAOOOOORRRRRPPPP!!* *HHHUUUUUOOOOOOORRRRRRROOOOOOOAAAAAARRRRRRPPPP!!* Two absolutely mammoth belches blasted violently from both mares' mouths as they swallowed their last mouthfuls, leaving them both breathless and panting. Struggling to stay conscious, their bleary and unfocused gazes settled on Prince Artemis, awaiting his announcement on what would seal the deal on their grueling contest. To both mares' utter horror, a large triple-tiered cake floated up and settled between them, absolutely covered in frosting. Two sorrowful groans sounded out from either end of the table, though it was difficult to tell whether it came from their mouths or their stomachs. "Oh, goddess..." Spitfire whispered under her breath. Even as experienced as she was in eating far more than she should, in her current state the cake before her was nothing short of intimidating. Across from her, Rainbow Dash was whispering rapidly under her breath, repeating over and over what sounded like 'I'm gonna pop'. Which, much as she hated to admit it, was starting to feel like a very real possibilty for herself as well. To both mares' credit, however, neither seemed willing to back down from whatever daunting feat of consumption Artemis had in mind for them. Glancing back and forth between the two utterly glutted mares, a soft smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, Prince Artemis addressed them in a tone so quiet it was just barely above a whisper. "Now then...here's what's going to happen." He paused for effect, watching as they waited with bated breath, both out of suspense and an inability to take a normal lungful of air. "This cake has been split precisely in half, one for each of you. Now with no doubts about either of your abilities to push your capacity to the limit, it's time to see who can overcome their weakness first. Whichever of you finishes your half in its *entirety*, and I do mean not a single crumb left, shall carry the day..." Both mares looked horrifyingly sick, with even more distressing gurgles rumbling from their packed midriffs but regardless they took as deep a breath as they dared before steeling themselves to eat once again, this time for the ultimate prize... "If there are no questions..." the prince paused for a moment as if to invite any that may be had, but neither mare was feeling particularly up to forming words at the moment. "...You may begin." ~~~~~ Make no mistake, Prince Artemis had thoroughly enjoyed every part of the show thus far, and while it was certainly entertaining and arousing to watch both mares unceremoniously shove their faces into the mass of cake before them, this was in his opinion the best part yet. Each of them had their upper body splayed out on the table before them, their breasts and heads and arms languishing heavily on its surface as they mindlessly, mechanically, brought even more handfuls of cake to their mouths. Their chewing was slow and laborious, panting heavily from their noses as they struggled and strained to fit more, more, and even more. Neither seemed to care or even notice how much of an absolute mess they were making of themselves, their upper bodies slathered in cake, icing, and other various sticky residue. Their seats were slid back as far as they could go while still reaching the table, while their massively swollen bellies hung ponderously beneath the table, their backs arched in order to support their increasingly weighty stomachs. By now their pace was so slovenly Artemis could watch and revel in each and every swallow, all of them accompanied by either a distressed gurgle, a soft whine, or a grunt of sheer pain. Truly, it was music to his ears. He could even swear they expanded visibly with each swallow, so monstrously bloated were they. At the moment it was difficult to tell who exactly was winning, but both of them were progressing at slow yet steady rates. Artemis watched with glee as Rainbow turned her head away from her cake in order to unleash a wet, sickly belch: *bbbuuuuOOOOOORRRRRRPPPP!!* As minor as it was, that small bit of freed up room was swiftly followed by a particularly greedy mouthful of cake, a long, drawn-out groan escaping as she rested her chin on the table, her upper jaw moving sluggishly up and down as the cake was slowly pulverised into mush. While Rainbow seemed to be slowing down, it almost seemed as though Spitfire was getting a second wind, although at this point it would probably be more of a fifth wind, but who really knew? What Spitfire did know, was that she was tired of this competition, she was tired of her stubborn opponent, and she was tired of this damn cake! Bursting would almost feel like a mercy as her insides screamed in agony, but she completely ignored her body's warnings as she picked up speed. More than anything else, she just wanted this over and *done* with, and if she didn't quite make it to the end, well... so be it. The upper layers of her cake collapsed in on the empty space her greedy maw had just cleared out, now eagerly scooping up every last bit of cake she could reach with her hands and arms. Spitfire was an absolute machine, one that would not be stopped by anything short of a complete and utter structural failure. If Rainbow was aware of her opponent's progress, she didn't show it, one hand rubbing fitfully at what parts of her stomach she could reach, desperate for something, ANYTHING, to relieve the pressure... An audible *THWUMP!* sounded out as Spitfire's belly button suddenly and forcefully inverted, the pressure behind it reaching its absolute maximum. She swallowed. Her stomach pulsed ever-so-slightly larger with an angry gurgle, the apex of her gut now starting to turn a worrying shade of deep purple. She swallowed again. A long, hollow groan sounded out, her stomach moaning in agony as it was forced to accept even mor-she swallowed again. She could feel the cake starting to back up at the bottom of her throat, her exhausted peristaltic muscles unable to force any more into her creaking, groaning tummy. She swallowed again. More backup. More pressure. The rising sensation in her chest, her body finally starting to rebel-she swallowed again, said complaints being completely drowned out by a torrent of mushed-up cake. She swallowed again. She was soooo very close now, only a few mouthfuls left, but did she really have the space to fit them? She swallowed again. It didn't matter. All that mattered was getting all that cake inside her body, regardless of what specific part it managed to force itself into. She swallowed again. Her stomach now jostled painfully as she greedily lapped at her side of the plate, her tongue picking up every last crumb and every last smear of frosting, every tiny movement she made wracking her trembling form with nearly overwhelming pain. She swallowed again. And again. And again... And then she was done. Somehow, incredibly, miraculously, she had done it, an utterly unbelievable amount of food and cake now resting heavily within her wildly distended form. She sighed in victory, a short hiccup escaping her lips as she allowed herself to bask in her victory... But all was not well in the depths of her gullet. Her stomach continued to rumble and churn, the overstrained muscles quivering what minuscule amounts they could, her skin stretched so tight one could visibly see the ripples of her stomach lining beneath. Her breathing quickened as a fearful whimper made its way out of her mouth. This was it, she had finally gone too far, and now she was going to pay the price. Spitfire's cheeks bulged as the rumbles grew louder and the convulses grew stronger. She started to lose track of what exactly all the different parts of her body were doing, her mind overwhelmed by the continuous stream of powerful sensation. Yet even through the haze, she was determined to keep it all down. Yes she had won, but what would the Prince think if she just spewed all over right afterwards? This was a battle of willpower, after all, and she would *not* lose! Glancing at the other side of the table, it looked like Dash had finally given up the ghost. She paid no heed to the worrying sounds of her competitor, far too busy attempting to quell her own overwhelmed body. Her forehead rested on the table as she took quick, shallow breaths, her hands gingerly caressing the surface of the troubled orb. Those golden yellow eyes could only spare a moment upon her before casting elsewhere for something, *anything* that could stem the tide... It was then that she noticed the rest of the cake. Dash had fought admirably, but there was still about a third of her half left, just waiting for somepony to scoop it up and enjoy its sumptuous tastes...giving her a crazy idea. An absolutely *mad* idea. Her stomach screamed against it but her mind was already made up. She would block the only exit her straining, heaving stomach had available...with even more cake! Letting out a low groan that was a mix of weary resignation and greedy determination, she forced yet another heaping handful of cake into her maw. Even stuffed to bursting as she was, the taste of it was still exquisite, divine, beyond perfect! The royal chefs had really outdone themselves on this one. Swallowing madly with everything she had, the lump of spongy cake began its gradual descent, sopping up anything and everything in its path. More cake entered her mouth with another defeated groan. Every part of her body seemed to hurt but she had to have more, she *needed* more to truly impress him! For his part, Artemis watched absolutely spellbound as the Wonderbolt captain dove upon her opponent's remaining portion like a madmare, massively taut belly quivering and gurgling with dangerous levels of fullness, its rotundity now well surpassing that of a beach ball. He could do nothing but stare and gape as she threw her head back to assist another powerful swallow, the lump of cake visibly trailing down her throat, somehow miraculously disappearing behind her heaving bosom like all the others. She ate like a mare possessed, completely heedless of whatever potentially-catastrophic consequences she may be wreaking upon her ravaged body, determined only to show once and for all how capable she was...how she was nothing short of the *best*. Before either of them really knew it, the last chunk of cake crammed its way into her burstingly full belly, the pain finally getting the better of her as she sagged to her knees, then collapsed on the floor on her side. Spitfire groaned in agony, her impossibly immense belly towering over the rest of her body, trembling and pulsating as it slowly slipped further and further towards the breaking point, the yellow mare absolutely powerless to do anything but moan helplessly. It seemed her gag reflex had finally shut down after being denied so many times, leaving the over-pressurized sack of food with nowhere to go but *out*. She whimpered pathetically as her stomach pulsed even larger between her grasping fingertips, both her hands and her wings conscripted to cradle her horribly overloaded gut. But it was too late. She was long past the point of no return. Writhing and roiling, her body thrashed about in its death throes, unable and unwilling to believe that her greed was about to be her own undoing. As she teetered on the precipice, preparing to paint a good section of the dining hall a chocolatey new color, she opened her mouth to let loose with a final mournful wail... ...That promptly died in her throat, only to be replaced with a warbling, reverberating, wall-shaking, window-rattling, rafter-raising, loudest, wettest, and sickest belch to ever beleaguer her eardrums: "BBBBBUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHH!!!" Like air being let out of a balloon, the unbearable pressure that had just previously been seconds from detonating her most spectacularly lessened considerably, moist, sugary air streaming out of her mouth in a steady flow, the chest-rattling eructation continuing for well over a minute before finally ending almost as abruptly as it had started. Collapsing in relief, Spitfire went completely limp, gasping for air as deeply as she dared while her eyes rolled around in their sockets before finally settling on her still horrendously but no longer doomed stomach, which much to her surprise was covered in a bluish glow, the skin tingling in a much more pleasant way than that of just being overstretched. "By the Moon itself..." Artemis murmured, standing over her just a few feet away. "Never before, in all our long years, have we ever seen such an incredible display of gluttony and sheer, unadulterated *will*..." He paused as their eyes met, a brief moment of understanding shared before being replaced by mutually confident smirks. "Suffice to say, captain, you are indeed the winner, but it is fortunate for you that we were present. A single moment longer and we would have had a most messy situation on our hooves... Impressive. Truly impressive," he mused, stroking his chin thoughtfully. Spitfire could clearly see the lustful sparkle in his eyes, a quick glance downwards proving that yes, the considerably well-endowed prince was absolutely ready and raring to go. Anything further that was about to be said was temporarily drowned out by another echoing belch, shorter and softer than the previous behemoth but still impressive in its own right. Rainbow Dash stirred with a groan, her eyes falling first on the empty plate before her, then the prince's leering face, and finally Spitfire's monumentally stretched belly. "Ohhhh, geeez..." she muttered, shaking her head softly. "I'unno how ya did it, cap...but holy Celestia am I fit to burst..." A pained grimace crossed her features as she very briefly entertained the idea of moving before her ominously churning belly easily convinced her otherwise. "Goddess...I...I'm so full..." Rainbow whimpered, starting to tear up slightly as she was not the slightest bit accustomed to such raw, overpowering pain. "Though you were not victorious, we were also impressed by your performance, Rainbow Dash," Artemis said softly, her pained gaze meeting his at the sound of her name. "And while unfortunately we cannot provide you both with the prize you seek..." he continued, eyes flicking back and forth between the two incredibly swollen mares as his horn started to glow. "...We have an arrangement in mind that should satisfy all of our immediate needs for the time being." No sooner had he finished his sentence than there was a sharp *CRACK!* and the three of them disappeared, leaving only a giant mess, a gaggle of drunken, snoozing Wonderbolts, and a couple of server ponies still gaping at both what they had witnessed and the incredible aftermath. Elsewhere in the castle, the trio reappeared in the Prince's personal quarters atop his extremely lavish and extremely spacious four-poster bed. Whereupon, despite still sporting stomachs dangerously close to rupturing, with the Prince's protective powers in full effect the passions of the night were soon upon them. Though none of them knew it, the other denizens of the castle were greatly appreciative of the very best suite of soundproofing spells known to ponykind, slumbering on in blissful unawareness as Artemis' room soon filled with wanton moaning, ecstatic screaming, and forceful belching, the cacophony continuing on well into the night...