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// Day Four - Ramifications Realised 
// Story: Bowstring and the Fantastical Fattening Farce 
// by MetalBrony20 
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Four days. Four long, excruciatingly demanding days had passed since she had made the switch to her special sugar. In just the span of those days, she had faced a rapid uptick in demand, both from her regulars, but also from newcomers, who had heard about how good their new treats were from co-workers. Curiosity or simple greed drew them in, and the addictive, delicious properties made it certain that they would be back again. She had never seen the bakery so active before, even during holidays when everypony was getting gingerbread mares or Nightmare night themed goodies.

No, this was far beyond the scope of that. Due to the vast quantities of product they consumed, it hadn’t taken long for less positive side effects to emerge as well. She could swear she could still smell the linger stench of hot, heavy belches in the air, fuelled by half-digested cupcakes, scones and turnovers. She could still hear the pinging of a button, or the tearing of fabric as articles of clothing, already large, failed to accommodate the extra body mass swaddling their undulating, wobbling bodies.

From stallions who’s tailored suit jacket lay splayed open from the extra mound of pudge strapped to their waist, to mares where their dresses and uniforms were pushed up at the back, as butt cheeks expanded like inflating weather balloons. And yet, no one had seemed to complain. Even as they stained their mouth’s with smudges of cream and chocolate, ate with increasing ferocity, and generally looked more like farm animals, rather than ponies, they hadn’t said a word to her. No one came running up to her desk, demanding what had happened to them. No, everypony was simply content with what was happening to them. 

Sure, they did look at one another with some sense of revulsion, but those feelings were soon buried under mountains of the spiked treats. Then again, she couldn’t exactly complain. Afterall, those treats were finding their way onto her own figure too. Due to the massive uptick in demand, she had overcompensated with the amount of stock. As a result, she had more than enough to satisfy her own growing addiction. Already, she had shot up a shirt size, which was straining despite the enormity of the garment. Her slight waddle had become ever so slightly more pronounced as she felt those inflated flanks bump and press into door frames and any stray furniture that was unlucky enough to get in the way.

Currently, she was finishing up the last of the washing up, scrubbing the cooked-on batter with furious swipes of her arm, causing the accumulated blubber to quiver with each rapid stroke. Every twitch and jostle of her abundant flab reserves only served to send little jolts of pleasure through her body, biting her lip from each flash of pleasure. “Ohh… this was such a bad idea. And yet, such a good idea too…” Her belly let out a sloppy gurgle, almost like it was responding to her statement. Peeling off her rubber gloves, she tossed them over the tap to drip dry, leaving the now pristine looking kitchen, ready for another day of hard work.

Now though, she deserved some rest after such a hard day of toiling behind the stove and counter, trying to satisfy a hoard of increasingly gluttonous pigs. On her way out, she grabbed a plate, heaving with the remaining leftovers. Despite managing to fix her portion numbers, she still had some unsold stock. And unsold stock meant it was destined for her stomach. With another needy grumble, she smacked it lightly, feeling the hefty roll sway from the blow. “Shh… calm down… you’ll get your fill in a moment, let’s get comfy first.”

Navigating her way through the building, she came across a flight of stairs. Taking them, she made her way up, noting the increased difficulty of simply pushing her thighs past her slab of belly. Every step was hard going, even for somepony used to such excessive weight. Finally reaching the top, she made a hard left, coming to a sitting room. Pushing the door open with a free hand, Berry tottered over to the wide faux-leather sofa, plopping down with an alarming groan of overstressed wood.

With a small giggle, she grabbed the first treat on the pile, a triple chocolate muffin. With a surprising level of deftness, she unwrapped it, taking a large bite out of it. Despite how many times she had used the sugar in her own private concoctions, she just couldn’t deny how much the flavours were pushed into orgasmic levels of pleasure. As her tastebuds triggered her brain to flood it with a cascade of hormones, she eventually swallowed the sticky lump down, allowing the calorie bomb to hit her stomach. Her brain was screaming for more, which she was more than delighted to fulfil its wish.

Her hands flew from plate to mouth, the most energetic movement she had done in a long time. From cookies wider than teacups, to fairy cakes the size of Breezies, she made sure to have at least one tantalising morsel on hand. Fully enraptured in the clutches of addiction, she almost missed the feeling of clothing growing taut across her now expanding body. One of the specialities of the sugar, was the ability to process ingested calories, making them significantly more potent and much, much more fattening. As such, what would take plates of treats to add even a single pound, turned into a few bites. Her skin tingled, the sensation of putting on weight happening before her very eyes.

Noisily stuffing bite after bite into that cauldron like gut, she was becoming aware of the final property of the ingredient. A low, gurgling moan emanated from her stomach, as gas built up in her roiling stomach. Placing a sticky hand to the swell of purple flesh, she kneaded it, sinking into the doughy mass, before pressing into the taught sphere of food below. Long, tender squeezes and gropes attempted to calm to building storm, as it travelled lower through her body. FRRRBBBBRTT!!! BBRRPPT!! PPRTT! Letting out a long sigh, the pressure was released as three blasts flatulence came rumbling out between those wobbling, cellulite filled butt cheeks. Even through her shorts, she felt her tail flap like a flag caught in gale. A moment later, the sweet stench of half-digested cake came flooding through.

“Ahh… that felt good.” Berry murmured, giving her belly a small slap, sending the lavender flesh undulating.

“Ahem, you enjoying yourself?” A sudden call from the door caused Berry to jolt up, managing to tear her gaze away from the treat stack. Standing in the open doorway was a Pegasus, with a near pure white coat and a short, crimson mane. One hand rested on her hip, the other gripping the door frame.

“Oh… hi their Bow, how are you doing?” she squeaked out, trying to look casual. Judging by Bow’s expression, the sloppy, stain covered mare wasn’t fooling her in the slightest.

“I’m doing fine now. What I am interested in is the fact that your shop has suddenly had a massive increase in customers, who barely want to leave.” Folding her arms, she entered the room. Bow, or Bowstring, was a typical mare of modern Equestria. She had the usual general coating of flab across her body, though slightly on the higher end of the spectrum in terms of sheer size. This wasn’t helped by her shorter stature, meaning that those accumulated pounds were very noticeable wherever they accumulated. This hadn’t been helped by the fact that she had known Berry since childhood, resulting in plenty of excess pastries and desserts flowing down her throat.

This was most apparent in her large hips and even wider bottom. Those white globes usually fought against anything they were squeezed into, much to the chagrin of the mare they were attached to. “I just recently found a new secret recipe that ponies can’t get enough of. It’s just too good to pass up.”

“I noticed. I know you’re a big eater, but you at least have some sense of grace. Actually, scratch that, you and table manners go together like oil and water.” She pointed out, a small smirk gracing her lips. Berry only gave a small giggle of her own in response, licking some stray blobs of jam from her rounded, rose tinted cheeks.  “This is something different. Whatever new thing you’ve concocted can’t be some secret recipe that turns ponies into piggies.” Her eyes narrowed somewhat, stepping closer to Berry.

“I don’t know what else to say Bow. I’ve just managed to hit it big I guess.”

“And somehow become a bigger slob than usual. Call me cynical, but I am not buying it.” Kneeling, she came eye level with her friend, their amber orbs locking. Small beads of sweat run down her face, as she picked up one of her blueberry white chocolate muffins from the pile. Bow was the first to break eye contact, following the bakers flabby, bingo wing swaddled appendage down to the plate.

“Look, if I can’t persuade with my words, how about I show you what everypony is raving about? Just, give it a try, OK?” Bow paused for a moment, looking at the proffered treat. Briefly considering it, she took it after a moment. From initial impressions, it looked very normal, her sensitive nose picking up the smell of fresh berries and cocoa butter, with a hint of vanilla. Shrugging, she peeled the wrapping, taking a bite.

Her narrowed, sceptical expression softened, before fading completely. Tentatively, she took another bite, before wolfing the rest down, practically shoving the wrapper into her face as she tried to get as much of that irresistible dessert into her. “Mmmmpp… oh Celestia, I can see why ponies love these so much…” she mumbled out, a few crumbs escaping her full mouth, decorating the ring of blue and white stains around her lips.

“See? What’d I tell you? You just needed to try them.” Berry calmly said, the tension between the pair evaporating. Before she could do anything else, Bow grabbed another treat, a jam tart, already working away at it’s delicious exterior. Her teeth sunk into it’s gooey strawberry interior, followed by a moan of pleasure. Sitting back, Berry watched as the rest of her afterwork snack was demolished in short order, like a house of cards in a tornado.

Already, the baker was scheming. If her friend, who was so suspicious about her ‘new’ recipes could become that enraptured in but a couple of bites, who to say that others could stop her expanding her usage of the sugar? Afterall, it wasn’t like they had any objections to their enlarging bodies, nor their degradation of hygiene? Hay, if they really hated it, they would have complained to her the next day. And yet, nothing. Not a peep. If they were content to carry on their spiralling weight gain, who was she to deny them that privilege?

Finishing the tray with a rumbling belch, Bowstring lay out on the carpeted floor, chubby fingers gliding over her overstuffed gut, giving it a couple of tender rubs. “That… was… UURRPPP… great. Pardon me.” A warm, matronly smile came to Berry’s face as she joined her on the floor, assisting her in rubbing that doughy, warm, blubbery, roll ringed belly.

“You are excused Bow, you’ll always be excused.”