You open the door to the sounds of crinkling plastic and satisfied moans, the combination feeling like sweet music as it reaches your ears. Before you lies the subject of your adoration, the effective matron of the Ponyville Apple family household, the hard-working, sweet-natured, and stunningly beautiful farmer pony Applejack. Your breath hitched slightly in your throat as your eyes once again beheld the heavenly mare before you. Her eyes were closed as she moaned long and low, her delightfully chubby cheeks moving up and down as she chewed up the remains of yet another of the world-famous Apple Family apple fritters. 

Her soft orange coat seemed to glow golden in the light of the setting sun streaming in through the window, the last rays of light glinting brilliantly off of her long mane the color of fresh straw. Beneath her cute chubby face heaved an ample bust, with a mouthwatering amount of cleavage held back by only a single button of her plaid farmer's shirt. Beneath that was her belly, pooched out a fair amount as it swelled with sweet, succulent desserts, the slightest hint of flab pooling on the bed in front of her as she lay on her side, her head effortlessly propped up by her well-muscled left arm. You bite your lip slightly as that swollen gut lets out a soft gurgle of fullness, her right hand lovingly stroking its taut surface as she swallowed once more.

Your eyes continuing to drift southward, your gaze alights upon the most killer set of hips in all of Ponyville. Years of hard labor and a healthy appetite left the apple pony with thick, luscious thighs and a mouthwateringly firm buttocks that pushed any pair of pants that dared to contain its magnificence to their limits.

Satisfied that your goddess was as you left her, if not perhaps a bit fuller than before, your eyes cast eagerly about the room as you take in the multitude of empty boxes, all previously filled to the brim with freshly packaged fritters. You let out a soft grunt as you place yet another stack on the floor before her, having recently made yet another trip out to the barn and back again.

You can't help but grin at the delightful sights that had been awaiting you downstairs. Applejack's sweet younger sister, Apple Bloom, sat comatose at the kitchen table, empty boxes and wrappers scattered about her as her hugely swollen belly gurgled and churned angrily with fullness. The filly was quite obese these days; without the willpower of a more matured pony she was helpless to resist your subtle offerings and gentle encouragements to eat to her heart's content, something she had taken to with abandon over these recent months.

As you had reached the stairs, a chance glance into the living room brought another predatory grin to your face. Passed out on the couch, giant red belly hugely swollen and filled to its absolute maximum, lay 'Big' Macintosh. His arm and hand lay on the floor beside him, buried in the pile of garbage and empty boxes heaped before him. Beyond that, all you could see from here was his denim-clad legs, undone at the waist, and a towering mountain of a belly that showed absolutely no sign of the musculature you knew was normally there. Even from across the room, you heard it groan and grumble as it struggled against its massive payload.

You grin. Ever since you'd moved into Sweet Apple Acres, you'd begun subtly pushing and prodding at the residents to enjoy their food more and more. By now, you've started the younger three well down their paths into food-crazed addiction. Ol' Granny Smith was either oblivious or uncaring of your plot, and you genuinely weren't sure which.

But you push those thoughts from your mind; you have another mare waiting for your ministrations. Applejack's eyes snapped open at your grunt of exertion, and at once you found yourself lost in those luscious green orbs, which together with the cute white freckles on her nose painted a perfect picture of adorable beauty you were powerless to resist. Applejack's eyelids lowered as she made a big show of swallowing her entire mouthful, the bulge of mushed-up food visible as it slithered down her neck into the churning depths below.

Her hand rose to cover her mouth as she let out a modest belch, before thumping appreciatively against her taut midsection. She fixed you with a sultry stare as she eyed up the fresh boxes of goodies you'd brought before her. Cluttering the floor in front of her bed was an absolute sea of discarded wrappers, the only evidence remaining of the once proud pile of pastries. Applejack licked her lips clean of any remaining sticky residue before she released a content sigh. "Awww, Sugarcube, are those fer me? Y'all shouldn't have..." she purred, rubbing her big orange belly once again. "But since ya did..." she paused, hoisting her body into a seated position with a soft grunt of exertion. "Ah might as well show ya mah appreciation..."

Licking her lips, she leaned forward to open the closest box and grab another handful of delicious appley goodness, but a grimace of pain flashed across her face as she leaned back, her hands immediately grasping at her swollen belly. "Whoof...guess Ah'm startin' ta git a bit full 'ere, Sugarcube..." she muttered, glaring at the box of fritters as though they had just insulted Granny. "Reckon Ah might need a helpin' hoof or two if Ah'm gonna keep eatin'..." She grinned widely at you as she spoke, punctuating the end of her sentence with a saucy little wink that wound you up like no tomorrow.

Grinning like a cheshire cat you lean forward to press a finger against her lips, effectively shushing her. "Hush, gorgeous," you murmur as you gently press her backwards, lying her back into the comfort of her soft bed. "You talk too much...allow me to fix that..." Both of you grinning ear to ear, you tear open the first of many apple fritters and lift it to her mouth, watching eagerly as she took a hefty bite, forcing almost half the pastry into her mouth before starting to chew, moaning with pleasure as she leaned back into the pillows, a look of bliss on her face.

Like a reverent worshipper you eagerly fed the beautiful mare before you, pushing fritter after fritter after fritter into her hungry mouth, only to be vanquished to her bubbling depths a few short moments later, her eyes closed in bliss as she swallowed again and again and again. 

You were so wrapped up in your sensual rhythm that it took you a moment to process when she held up a hand to stop the advance of your latest offering. Looking up in confusion, you were met with a bemused smirk from the mare before you, one eyebrow raised as she regarded you quietly before tsking softly. "Aww, come on now Sugarcube, Ah know ya can do better 'n that..." Reaching forward and cupping your chin, she gently but firmly pulled you closer to her face as effortlessly as one might lift a napkin, her soft touch belying the insane strength behind her seemingly graceful movements. She chuckled softly. "Ya ain't gonna break me, ya know..." she said with a smirk. "Ya don't got the strength, even if ya wanted ta." 

She snickered at the flush her teasing brought to your cheeks, but you remained at rapt attention. "Listen...Ah don't want'cha ta jest feed me, Sugarcube..." She paused for a moment as you both stared into each other's eyes, but soon that trademark naughty smirk returned to grace her face. "Ah want'cha ta *ruin* me..." 

Before you could even begin to process what she had just said, she ripped the most recently unwrapped fritter out of your hands and jammed the entire thing into her mouth, moaning happily as she chewed, watching you through lidded eyes the whole time, as if daring you to follow through.

You growled playfully as you pulled a fresh box of treats closer. "Oh, you do, huh? Well you better hope you're ready for this..." you say as you unwrap the first of what will undoubtedly be many fritters. "Because you've asked for it now!" 

Applejack moaned loudly as you shoved the entire thing into her mouth, her cheeks bulging even further given that she hadn't finished chewing her first one. Without even bothering to watch, you quickly snatch up another one and shove yet another into her furiously masticating maw. Now assured that you've gotten the idea, Applejack begins to chew frantically, her nostrils flaring with her frenzied breathing while her throat bulged again and again as she swallowed the biggest chunks of half-chewed food she could manage. It was a good thing, too, because did you have any intention of letting up anytime soon?

Heck no. The box at your feet grew emptier and emptier as you shoved treat after tasty treat into the ravenous farmmare's gullet at a frenzied pace, far surpassing the rate at which she could eat comfortably. And all the while, that round, orange belly continued to swell and bloat as more and more and more was added to its groaning innards. Grabbing the last fritter in the box and kicking the empty aside, you swiftly shove it to its demise even as you stand up to drag over yet another box.

For her part, Applejack was in hog heaven. Steadily her form slipped lower and lower into her soft bed as the outermost curve of her stomach rose higher and higher, the piggish farmmare now completely horizontal and pinned beneath her mountain of a gut. She moaned with arousal as the first hint of taut orange fur made itself visible beyond her cavernous orange cleavage, the strain on that one final button steadily increasing as the pressure from below continued to rise. Her hands were practically magnetized to her dome of a belly, stroking and rubbing furiously as both it and her arousal continued to climb, strained gurgles and bubbles from her overloaded stomach increasing steadily in both frequency and volume. 

The button and zipper of her denim booty shorts had been undone long ago to make as much room as possible, and the two flaps were now well and truly separated by an impressively large wedge of taut orange flesh. There was literally no way she could possibly button those back up now. 

A pained groan rose from the gorging mare's throat as you cracked open the third box of fritters. As you gazed upon her ludicrous curves, it was obvious that she was getting really full, but if she thought you were going to leave a single fritter in this room uneaten she had another think coming. You knew she wanted it just as badly as you did, at least if her shaking thighs and soaked crotch were any indication at all. Incredibly aroused from the sights and sounds before you, you fed her fritters at an even more frantic clip, the pile of garbage around the bed continuing to build as Applejack's belly continued to swell.

"Mmmmrrrff...ohph...sho good...sho...full...ooohhhhrrffnomfnomfomf..." By now Applejack was visibly straining to eat more, every swallow a forced endeavor and every chewing motion a chore. You relented from your previous frantic pace just a little bit, using the extra time between treats to add two more hands to massaging, kneading, and soothing the troubled orb before you. The air in the room began smelling like a most delectable cinnamon-sugary smell, and not all of it was because of the few remaining pastries. Applejack groaned and moaned lowly as you readied yet another fritter. "Oooph...Ah'm real filled up now, Sugarcube...rrrmmmfffomnom..." You silence her quiet protests with yet another gooey, appley delight. Her tail thrashed back and forth, the only part of her that could move right now with any sort of speed, as her lust and belly climbed higher and higher. 

Chomp, chomp, gulp...chomp, chomp, gulp...chomp, chomp, gulp... Applejack's eating had by now slowed down to a rhythmic pace, her towering orange belly beginning to flush slightly red near its apex as the pressure within grew and grew. Looking down, you noticed that there was still about half a box of pastries left, and the stuffed farmmare's will was starting to flag. Pausing your feeding for a moment, she hesitantly swallowed the last of her mouthful before letting out a soft moan of pain, followed shortly by an impressively deep belch. "OOOOOORRRPP! Oof...oh, ow...mah poor belly..." she murmured softly, hands still stroking her painfully swollen mass in long, tender motions.

It was at this point that you would begin to feel bad for putting her through such pain... if it weren't for the increasingly prevalent spicy scent and the near-constant quivering of her legs. With but a short simple glance, you could easily see that her plain white panties were absolutely drenched in her juices, her inflamed sex drooling with intense need. With a surge of arousal, you realized that she was reaching as far as she could towards her blisteringly-hot crotch, but was unable to reach around her huge, weighty belly. "Ah...S-Sugarcube...p-please..." she begged softly, her body aching for your reverent touch. 

Rising to your feet, you pick up the half empty box and stand over her, reveling in her glazed-over expression as she fought to remain conscious through the haze of pain and pleasure. You lightly trail your fingers over the most extreme curve of her belly, causing her breath to hitch in her throat and her hips to thrust ever so slightly with need, her belly groaning in protest of the involuntary movement. Taking only a moment to enjoy the control you held over the situation, reveling in her needy, heaving pants and her desperately outstretched fingers, you finally relent. But first, the last box of fritters is upended above her, a good two dozen or so delicious golden pastries cascading over her face and chest, the plastic wrappers crinkling slightly as they jostled about.

"You know what to do..." you coo softly into her ear before withdrawing and walking to the base of the bed, where you could face your prize in all its glory. Gleefully you watch those shaking fingers slowly withdraw from the huge orange gut churning and gurgling before you; your ears catching the faint sound of plastic crinkling open beneath hesitant hands. Good, you'd teased the poor mare long enough. Leaning forward so that your mouth was mere inches from her warm, moist depths, you puckered up and slowly blew on the nearly overwhelmed mare's trembling crotch. You were immediately rewarded with a loud moan, followed by the telltale sound of a fritter being crammed into a mouth and steadily chewed into mush.

The fritter is hastily gulped down only to be replaced by another shortly after as you reached out and gently trailed your fingers across her slit, the desperate farmmare cycling between breathing deeply, moaning wantonly, and chewing frantically as you continued to stimulate her. Another strained gulp had you probing lightly at her depths through the practically non-existent panties, her moans growing in length and volume as she glomped down yet another pastry, the pain of her stretching stomach deafened by the electrifying pleasure shooting from her crotch. 

A strained gurgle rumbled through her abdomen, its surface visibly distorting and rippling in gastric distress. Applejack's muted voice cracked as she shrieked through a hefty mouthful in pained pleasure, a sharp rising sensation spreading throughout her core...an inexorable tidal wave of feeling rolling forwards, unable to be stopped, crushing any and all resistance in its path...

Applejack trembled once. She trembled twice. A loud, satisfied moan sang out as at last she found release, her marehood gushing and spurting violently as she was lost in the throes of orgasm. Your fingers dug shallowly around in her depths as she writhed in pleasure, her lust-addled brain linking the two overwhelming sensations as she drunkenly stuffed another fritter into her drooling, moaning maw, a powerful swallow dragging a visibly huge chunk of food down her throat towards its demise.

PING! At last the pressure exerted by her incredibly stuffed stomach became too much to bear, and the last button on her shirt sailed away into some dark and dusty corner, never to be found again. Her shirt exploded off her form, the now useless sides falling forlornly to the mattress beneath her. Her chest heaved and shuddered with every breath, the two succulent orbs straining her plain white bra to its limits, the straps noticeably digging into the soft, squishy flesh beneath her arms. Her towering gut shuddered slowly to a halt, her body finally recuperating from the intense sensations.

Applejack panted and sighed, her breath still coming in ragged spurts as she slowly reached for another fritter. There were just over a dozen left now; you both knew that victory was near at hand. It was time for the final push. Slowly, reverently, you reached forward and stroked at her waist where the panties were digging into her slightly. She loosed a long, low moan as she crammed another fritter into her mouth, your touch in that area signaling to her what was yet to come. Gently but eagerly you grasp her shorts and panties and begin tugging them down her shapely legs. Even with a mouthful of food she gasped as her exposed sex came into contact with fresh, cool air. 

Leaning forward you prepare to give your goddess the pleasure she deserves. You start off simple, bringing your lips to hers and giving her sensitive nethers a gentle kiss, her tail tickling your chest and neck as it flailed about in ecstasy. As your tongue gently began exploring her sweet, succulent depths, you swear you hear her literally swallow an entire fritter whole as she desperately tears open even more plastic, knowing that as long as she eats so do you. Your tastebuds explode in wonder at the sweet, spicy taste you'd come to adore, soon losing yourself to passion as your tongue begins exploring deeper and deeper. 

Applejack's throat works frantically as her body catches fire, every neuron firing in synchronized pleasure, her form shuddering and seizing as she twitched beneath your touch. Her moans begin to run into each other, until it sounds like she's groaning and keening nonstop with pleasure. You continue to lap at your tasty treat with long, steady strokes, delighting at the slight lifting of her hips as your tongue pulls away, despite the added strain it puts on her terribly overloaded tummy. 

Suddenly you heard three distinct tears of plastic, and an audible 'GLOMPH!' as Applejack crams the remaining fritters into her mouth, just about pounding the mass of food with her fists in order to get it to fit. Looking up, you grin cheekily as you see her hands move to clutch her tremendously strained stomach on either side, not even moving to soothe but rather just holding on for dear life as she prepares to explode...

...In orgasm. This one came suddenly but silently, her body locking up completely as your face and mouth are absolutely drenched in her excretions. Eagerly you lap at the fountain of taste, determined to slurp up as much of her sweet nectar as you could possibly find. Eventually the source runs dry and you come up for air, licking at any remaining droplets that may be lingering on your cheeks and chin. "How was that, love?" you coo softly, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it straight from the horse's mouth anyways. 

All you got in response was a soft snore, the obviously overwhelmed farmmare passed out like a light, her chest gently rising and falling with each shallow breath. You grin lovingly as you take in the beauty of her form, her hands still practically glued to either side of her rumbling, churning stomach, her golden mane spread out behind her, her cheeks and chin covered in sticky residue and her cleavage littered with crumbs, laying as she was in the center of a small semicircle of empty plastic wrappers. 

Slowly, softly, so as not to disturb her, you creep forward onto the bed, the springs creaking only slightly beneath your combined weights. Maybe someday they would give way, but for now you were content to lay right where you were, snuggled up to the luxurious curves of the mare of your dreams, one hand lovingly stroking her immensely bloated gut. You give her a soft kiss on the cheek, the sweet taste of apples joining the one still lingering on your tongue. "Goodnight, Applejack..." you murmur sleepily as you brush most of the wrappers onto the floor before reaching over and turning out the light. In the gentle darkness, you allowed yourself to drift off to a peaceful sleep, your ears serenaded by the rumbling and gurgling of her steadily digesting feast...