A Cursed Chickadee Charm
Mustangia, home to many different ponies, and host to many competitions and races. It is also the home of the mare we are focused on today, an earth pony named Chickadee Peachbottom. At this moment, she was walking in one of the town’s many parks when something shiny caught her eye. On closer inspection, she found it to be one of the most beautiful necklaces she had ever seen. It had emeralds and pearls strung all around it, all strung in patterns of large-small-large-small.
"Mah stars!" She exclaimed. "That’s one mighty fine charm."
After taking a quick look to confirm that no one had taken notice at the moment, she picked up the charm and strung it around her neck. She looked good in it, but she didn’t know that it wasn’t the only thing she was going to gain.
After the full day to herself, Chickadee returned home to her apartment. It was getting late and she had a visitor planned next day so she needed to rest in order to catch the train tomorrow. She had dinner at her local fast food restaurant earlier so she won’t have to worry about cooking for such meal. Keen on getting enough rest for tomorrow, she made her way to the bedroom, rested her upon the mattress and drifted off to sleep.
Some time after Chickadee fell asleep, the emeralds on her necklace began to glow and faint rumble emanated from within her, but she didn’t stir. Within seconds, changes to her body began, a latent effect of the charm. Her body began to get bigger, adipose rapidly began to develop. Chickadee grew and grew throughout the night, developing a second chin and quite a few folds, her small belly she had earlier that night had turned into a full blown fold ridden gut. Her rump was also starting expand and her thighs grew thicker to try and support it.
A good five minutes into her slumber and Chickadee grew fatter…much fatter. Her form expanded a good foot from her body, a large belly began to form and developed into segmented rolls, the mare developed a second and third chin, both them flopped violently as they bulged out from her neck. Her legs and thighs bulged with layers of flab and her plot was beginning to be a dwarf to her stomach despite itself becoming larger in width and length.
All this time, Chickadee didn’t stir. She was fast asleep, dreaming of the visit ahead of her.
Soon enough, she was at the point that a pony could realistically become. Her cheeks puffy, head resting on several flabby necks and a belly that would’ve lifted her hooves off the mattress if she wasn’t on her back had developed. With back rolls on top and a plot just as large as her belly to boot, Chickadee was, to put it lightly, overweight. To put it truthfully, obese. But she didn’t stir, nor notice. She was in a very deep sleep.
Eventually, the emeralds faded, but she was in for a surprise when she woke up.
The next morning, she awoke with a very strange feeling as if she didn’t feel like herself. She yawned and stretched nonetheless, swung her legs out to the side, and nothing happened. “What in Equestria?” She tried to sit up straight; that was a no go either. Terrified and confused, Chickadee took a look at what was preventing her from getting up. That’s when she saw her belly.
It was enormous! With rolls upon rolls, it covered the thighs of her back legs and stuck out a good foot wider than her old frame on each side! With a large amount of effort and quite a few grunts, she managed to get herself out of bed and onto the floor. She was not going anywhere anytime soon, as her belly was so large it pooled beneath her and blocked her stump-like legs from reaching the ground.
"Bless mah soul!" she cried. "How the hay did I get so huge? I can’t walk!"
She didn’t have long to ponder that, however.
Mrs. Harshwhinny had fond time in all her work as an Equestria Games inspector and committee representative to use her free time however she saw fit. Today happened to fall across her old friend, Chickadee. They had gained an unforeseen friendship in the Crystal Empire and decided they needed to get together in their free time.
Harshwhinny was bit surprised when Chickadee didn’t meet her at the station. Thankfully it was a five minute walk to her apartment so she didn’t mind. When got there, she gave a triple knock on the door.
"Harshwhinny?" Chickadee’s voice came from the other side. "Is… Is that you?"
Harshwhinny cleared her throat and spoke, non-professionally “Is there a problem?”
"A really weird one."
"Is it alright if I come in? I might be able to help."
…*sighs* “Fine.”
Harshwhinny opened the door slowly. When the door was pushed open, she saw with her own eyes what had happened to Chickadee. Rolls upon rolls had accumulated on her body, and she had at least four chins underneath the blue mare’s pudgy face. Her plot was so wide it would take four chairs to support it. Her cutie mark was stretched out so much, it was at least four times the size it was the last time they saw each other. Her jiggling plot appeared to be an area most affected with Chickadee’s weight gain. Now all those extra calories went straight to her belly. Limiting all movement, her torso was immense. Wobbling with every slight movement its host made, she had truly grown into an immobile earth pony.
"What happens to that slender figure you had?" Harshwhinny eventually asked.
Chickadee blushed. “Ah dunno, ah jus woke up like this.”
Mrs. Harshwhinny carefully approached her now obese friend and poked a hoof into a flabby roll on her belly. It was definitely fat.
"Just waking up like this doesn’t justify an explanation. There must have been something that happened yesterday."
"Well, aside from findin’ a pretty necklace, ah haven’t done any type of…" Chickadee was cut off.
"A Necklace?!? That is…" Harshwhinny was prodding at her obese friends body all this time and felt a surprising softness in the overweight mare, which was enough to cut her off. "I wonder…"
She started to climb onto the side of her friend.
"What are you…"
Don’t you feel any softer this way, Chickadee?”
Chickadee took a moment to try and relax and started to realize what Harshwhinny was saying. All her layers of flab felt like her bed, only several times more softer.
"Well, when you put it that way…" She settled further into her own softness as her friend nestled into her side.
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How the fuck is this even a torture fic?
Actually, what the fuck does this have to with her being Scoot's mom?
Actually.
You cannot say that with one hundred percent accuracy.
What the heck is this? And why is there a warning for weight gain, it's not like you actually did something interesting or even disturbing with it.
And Kabar is right. You really don't know until an episode says who her mom is.
What . . . ?
4798395 My thoughts exactly.
I might be downvoted big-time for this, but I enjoyed this story. Not a torture fic, but as something really random.
An Upvote, from me.
Uh...wut?
Which lesson? Don't put on weird jewelry, or think twice before reading a story with a 1:10 up-down ratio?
Should it say "happened"?
4798115
It does seem highly unlikely, though, considering that Mrs. Peachbottom (no first name ever given, so where the "chickadee" comes from is anyone's guess) is quite firmly established in "Games Ponies Play" to be from Mustangia:
This author has already written another story which turned out to be a plagiarism of "The Grand and Bountiful Trixie" by Conflicted Writer.
Is this story a plagiarism too? I really don't want to read it to find out.
4798115
Because she got a chicken on her flank, so she's Scootaloo mother because Scoot is a chickun *derp*
This " joke " wasn't even funny the first time, but after more than 2 years it's just plain stupid.
Please no hate. Hate bad. Story, good!
I had never thought of this before, but now I am convinced Ms. Peachbottom is Scootaloo's mom.
4802538
Story isn't good.
Your definition of hate is broad.
4802538
First off, please do not use the word "hate" as a synonym for "disagreement" or "disapproval." They do not mean the same thing.
Second: the author has earned a bit of hate, or at least strong dislike, due to his having plagiarized another story (which resulted in him getting slapped with the ban-hammer and having his story removed).
Third: if you think this story is good, then all I can say is you've got low standards. The story is about as interesting as unflavoured gelatine, and has about as much depth as a teaspoon. It sets up a premise, then utterly fails to do anything interesting or worthwhile with it; it's just a "take that!" from the author, who's got his knickers in a twist over the suggestion that Mrs. Peachbottom is somehow Scootaloo's mum. (Which is certainly a new one on me; I've never even heard that bit of headcanon even mentioned before, much less read a story based on that premise...)
I haven't read or rated, but when I saw the title I thought: zelda cuckoo farm +somepony kicking chickens.
you might be better off writing a story like that, if the rating you got for this is anything to go by.
And here I thought my story was bad. Geez..... I hope you get more love than this. Have a free like.
4798780 The "chickadee" comes from her cutie mark.