Letting Yourself Go
Rainbow Blitz smiled as he looked out of his bedroom window with folded arms, feeling the heat radiating through the glass onto his body as he admired the sight outside. It was yet another glorious, blisteringly hot summer's day in Ponyville, with the sun shining brightly in a cloudless, denim-blue sky. According to the thermometer on the wall, the early afternoon temperature was already hitting ninety-eight degrees, and with how high up in the sky his cloud mansion was, Blitz would be sure to feel every last degree of heat as he soaked it up... which, of course, he fully intended on doing.
"Now then," he asked himself, putting a hand to his chin and stroking it thoughtfully. "How to spend an afternoon like this? There's relaxing in the sun... or relaxing in the sun... or, of course, relaxing in the sun. Hmm..." He chuckled. "I think I'm in a 'relaxing in the sun' kind of mood today."
Not for the first time, Blitz decided that being on summer leave for the Wonderbolts kicked ass. For the whole summer, he could forget all about formation flying, stunts, military discipline and all that junk, and take a much-deserved opportunity to kick back and let himself go for a while.
And boy, had he ever let himself go, he thought to himself as he headed downstairs. He hadn't exactly been pigging out on sweets or burgers or anything, mind you. He'd indulged in them, sure, but not all day, every day. He was still watching what he ate—that was instinctual for an athlete, he supposed.
Watching what he drank, on the other hand? That was another question entirely.
The summer in Ponyville so far had been exceptionally hot, which of course led to quite a thirst. As part of his plans to indulge himself, Blitz had been slaking that thirst with cider... lots and lots of cider. Sure, water and soda were well and good, but the feeling of an ice-cold cider sliding down his throat underneath a boiling sun? That just could not be beat. So he'd upped his intake quite a bit, making frequent stops by Sweet Apple Acres to stock up when he ran dry.
As an inevitable result of his consumption, combined with a gleeful lack of exercise, Blitz's washboard abs had vanished. In their place was a round, soft, slightly sagging beer belly. By now, it was big enough that Blitz could even balance a bottle on top of it with some care and precision. It hung resolutely out of his clothes, too, hanging over his shorts and bulging out of his shirts for all to see. If Blitz had been a more self-conscious sort of stallion, he may well have been embarrassed by it. As it stood, however, Blitz figured that after all the hard work he'd put in as a Wonderbolt, getting fat in the sun didn't sound like an unappealing prospect at all.
"And hey," he told himself, giving his stomach a wobble as he smirked. "I can hardly help being a thirsty stallion, can I?"
Licking his lips, he headed into the kitchen, the cloud floor sinking and bouncing beneath his bare feet. Opening the fridge, he moved aside a carton of half-finished Chineighse to get to the real prize—a crate full of cider bottles, their smooth glass necks gleaming with beads of moisture. Oh Solaris, he could tell how cold they were just by looking at them.
"You're coming with me," he said, grinning as he heaved the crate out of the fridge. "Thank you, Applejack."
Unable to wait any longer, he took one bottle from the crate and eagerly cracked it open, tilting his head back as he took a chug from it. He closed his eyes and sighed as the crisp, tart flavour poured down his throat—the sort of flavour that only the most carefully selected and cultivated apples from Sweet Apple Acres could provide.
"Oooh, man," he moaned, smiling blissfully as he set the bottle down. "Five percent alcohol, one hundred percent heart."
Carrying the open bottle in one hand and the crate under his other arm, Blitz used an elbow and a foot to open the back door and stepped out into the baking heat. Setting the crate down next to the sun lounger he had set up on the cloud porch outside, he stepped over to the edge and peered down, admiring the view of the whole town he got from up there. Evidently, he wasn't the only one enjoying the afternoon. He could make out Dusk on the castle balcony, warming his belly and enjoying what looked like a large cheeseburger. A bit further on from that, he could see Butterscotch skinny-dipping in the river beyond his tree house. Yep, summer was definitely here. It gave Blitz a warm feeling inside of him to see it—he'd really gotten into the spirit of summer.
But all this wasn't putting cider in his belly. Rubbing his palms together, Blitz stepped over to the sun lounger and lowered himself onto it. He closed his eyes and let out a purring sort of sigh of contentment as he settled back, allowing his tummy to hang comfortably out of his shorts like a deflated parachute.
"And now," he mumbled, taking the opened bottle in his hand and raising it, "the fun part begins."
Blitz put the bottle to his lips and tilted it back, allowing the sweet nectar within to flow over his tongue, down his gullet and into his belly. As soon as it hit his stomach, he could feel the delicious coldness it provided spread all throughout his body, shielding him from the heat of the sun above. He let out a soft moan of appreciation, curling his toes in pleasure as he chugged the bottle dry.
Setting the empty bottle to one side, Blitz gave his gut a pat, watching and biting his lip as it wobbled beneath his touch. Man, that was a heck of a beer gut, the kind you'd expect to see on a middle-aged stallion rather than an athlete in his mid-twenties. He was gonna have to do some work to get this off in time for the next Wonderbolts season, he pondered, taking a thoughtful sip from a freshly-opened bottle. Maybe it was time for him to rope it in a little bit, before he went from just having a beer belly to having sagging moobs, love handles and thunder thighs like Dusk and Butterscotch.
But hey, he was far from the only stallion in Ponyville letting himself go that summer. He'd seen how utterly massive Harpsy had gotten, for one—his huge mint-green ball of a belly hanging over his belt, his ass straining his shorts to the limit. And the funny thing... he seemed happier than he'd ever been with his size. He'd even told Blitz about how liberating it was to just be able to eat whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted. And if his tails were to be believed, he'd been chasing quite a bit of skirt, too...
Blitz bit his lip once more. That didn't sound unappealing, really. In fact, it didn't sound unappealing at all.
He closed his eyes, draining the second bottle and putting it down next to him. But even as he rested, the idea of getting as huge as Harpsy or Butterscotch would not leave him be. He thought about what life as a Wonderbolt was like—fame, glory and brotherhood, sure, but also super-strict diets. Grueling exercise regimens. Constant pressure to make sure every move you pulled was on point, knowing that one slip could turn your perfect flying formation into a twisted pile of feathers and limbs.
After that, he began to envision himself at Harpsy's size—a massive, hedonistic party animal, a tankard of cider in one hand and a pretty young mare on his fleshy hip. He imagined the sight of his gargantuan belly, the feeling of the mare's finger tickling his second chin, her slender foot tracing along the outside of his thick, fleshy thigh. He imagined her helping him to his feet, his fat sloshing with the movement and causing a burp to rise from his overfilled stomach. He imagined her taking him out back and...
He gasped, sitting upright as his eyes snapped open. Oh Solaris, that sounded... it sounded heavenly. Was that really the life he wanted? Every meal a feast, every night a party...
He looked down at his belly one last time, before shaking his head.
"Screw it..." he muttered, before breaking out into a grin. "Screw it!"
He excitedly got to his feet, heading quickly inside and grabbing his cellphone from the kitchen counter. He fought to control his elated breathing as he dialed, his stomach tingling with anticipation and nerves.
"Yeah, pizza place?" he asked. "I'm gonna need three twelve-inch pizzas here—one meat lover's, one pepperoni, one Haywaiian. Oh, and do you serve beer with deliveries? Great, I'll take two beers and two sodas. Yeah, it's Rainbow Blitz." He smirked. "Yes, you did hear right. A party? I guess you could say that. Half an hour, perfect! See you then."
He hung up, a squee rising from his throat. Oh Solaris, he was shaking. This was it... this really was it!
Half an hour later, the athletic, health-conscious Rainbow Blitz was sitting in the living room with his feet on the coffee table, three pizza boxes resting on the couch beside him. Two empty beer cans sat at his feet, their contents already at home in his stomach. Now feeling very pleasantly intoxicated, Blitz giggled deliriously as he swallowed the last couple of slices of meat lover's.
"Sooo gooooood..." he told himself, giggling again as he gave his taut, gurgling belly a series of bongo-style pats. He understood now. Cutting back in the sun with all that cider... it had awakened something within him. It was a side he never knew he had before, but now it was out there, and it was impossible to ignore. This was the end of Rainbow Blitz the Wonderbolt and athlete, and the birth of Rainbow Blitz the fat, hedonistic party animal. He was already making plans to head to a club that night—a place where the booze flowed like water, and where he could find a sweet mare or two to have a night of fun with.
"Better hope you're ready for me, world," he said, smiling wryly to himself as he hiccuped. "Because I'm coming in hard."
END