Chapter 1: Sunburst has a problem, and Glimglam's got the solution... mostly. This story contains slob-related fetishes and morbid obesity. Chapter 2: Big Mac's got a need only his sister can satisfy. Luckily, she's around. For now. Chapter 3: Queen Chrysalis learns about herself. A thing for the pony inflation/fat thread on /trash/. Based loosly on MLP's season 9 episode 8, but only minor spoilers.
"So, why am I here again?" Sunburst's snout shows off a quizzical expression towards Starlight.
"You know exactly why, Sunny! Or will the next strap to your harness help reveal your predicament?" She of course is referring to the giant sling supporting Sunburst in the air; suspended a couple of feet off the ground by a crane-like contraption. He'd bloated in the past couple of months considerably, if 'bloated' means 'gaining several hundred pounds'. His hooves are all sunken into his larduous fat, and his neck has more rolls than there are cinnamon rolls in a cafe!
None of that is to say that his recent weight increase has affected his health none--rivulets of sweat drip down from his every damp, dark crevice. Stains aplenty are awash on his prosternum as if he were a noble wearing a many-colored cape. Speaking of capes, his poor cape clings to his flesh between two mountainous layers of fat on his back, his drapery having long since torn in its attempt at covering him. The broach that once lay upon his chest is a good foot or two impressed into his fat, unable to see the light of day without copious shifting of his blubbery belly.
A volcanic eruption spews forth from either end every couple of minutes, either sending his grease-drenched tail sputtering into the air, or having his jowls quiver as they undulate across his face. A heavy musk weighs down the air around him, particularly around his face. Were he not to be clear of mind, it could easily be explained by the stench of an unwashed gym's locker room constantly being fed into his nostrils. But. He maintains an observant eye, likely as a result of getting off to his own disgusting condition. The holster holding him high covers a large section of his groin, but the tips of his roiling, vile melon-sized, cock-snot-filled orbs hang just over, while the flare and much of the barrel of his filth-spewing horse-cock presses up against the underside of his sensitive stomach. Yellow-white stains coat his fur in that dingy place, only adding to the wretched stank of the room.
"Ughhh. Please don't tell me you're here for-" "To help you brush your teeth, silly! Since you won't take care of your own hygiene, somepony has to!" Starlight boasts cheerfully, somehow unencumbered by the foreboding odor permeating all aspects of the room. Starburst, meanwhile, has a bright red flare to his cheeks as the stallion avoids the sight of his friend. "Aw, come now big guy. Just say 'ahh'!"
He hadn't even heard her lift a hoof before she manages to slink within a foot of his face, and before he can turn away, the tell-tale crackling of magic from her horn fills the air and holds his face towards her. "Now, OPEN!" She now commands forcefully, a stern expression contorting her muzzle. Slowly, Sunburst's jaws creak apart, a wall of green smog wavering out of his cavernous maw. The smell is even bad enough that Starlight has to suppress a gag! Nonetheless, she brings an oversized toothbrush up to his mouth and starts brushing to and fro. All seems to be going well until suddenly, Sunburst's pupils shrink down to pinpricks as his gut gurgles. A large lump ascends up his chest and within a moment, a deafening belch silences all else. "BRUARRRUP!" When the dust clears, Starlight is plastered to the far wall; her hooves encased in drywall and wall-paper. "Uh... Starlight? You okay?" The male asks sheepishly, trying to suppress an embarrassed smile. No response. He'll just have to wait until she wakes up then. In the meantime, that fried-oreo dessert he ordered from the local pastry shop seems to have arrived, judging by the ringing of his doorbell, so he'll get to chomping down on that until Starlight comes around.
Shadows cast across the land as the sun looms just over the horizon, descending, eagerly, into the autumnal abyss. The day had been long, and work had been hard, but it was through. Big Macintosh, or Big Mac for short, as many like to call him, allows the harness affixed to his neck to glide off of his body and slam into the ground. His belly, though, gets a bit in the way of that. The heavy piece of equipment sinks into his rotund flab, leaving an impression for a moment, before it unceremoniously 'boings' into the air like a spring, and comes crashing down. The hefty red stallion can't help but crack open his jaws and unleash a roaring belch as a result of the gasses shifting from his belly's disturbance. BRUARRRRRUUUURP! He hadn't expected such force to leave him slack-jawed, but such is the nature of a two-kiloton burp. On the topic of his stomach, another noise doth he emit-- stomach growls. "Dinnertime." He plainly says, and begins his lazy gait back to the farmhouse.
By the time he returns, an off-blue darkness has set over everything, with the flickering fires of candles illuminating the warm windows of his dwelling. Applejack must have turned on the lights, for Granny Smith and Apple Bloom are off on some adventure in Canterlot to sell a bushel of apples. Hopefully, dinner is rea- That thought is cut off as the supple scent of a freshly baked apple pie fills his nostrils. "Ey-uup!" The big beastie trudges through the front door, nearly taking off the hinges in the process. The paint on the door frame had already been taken off by his bulk passing through it, and there's also considerable damage to the sides.
"Might need'ta get another door soon, big guy!" Applejack quips from the other end of the kitchen, which just so happens to be the entryway into the house. "Take a seat, I already mae dinner 'n such." "EyuUARUUUUUUUURP." The raunchy blimphorse staggers over to the nearest chair as a cloud of applestank stinks up his immediate viscinity. Applejack, of course, being the good sister that she is, pretends not to notice. However, that task becomes far more difficult as the big lug takes a seat on his chair, of which his ass swallows whole, as his man-stank reaches across the table and into her nose. Her left eye twitches. Big Mac casually leans in onto the table to pull the pristine pie towards him, smothering the table under his sweaty hide in the process. Rather than use the pie-cutter to slice off a piece, he opts to just dunk his head forwards and pig out. Chunks of apple crumb and apple-slices fly across his cheeks, the ravenous stallion only pausing to take the odd breath or belch here and there. That's not to say that gas doesn't spew out his other end--oh no. A cascade of sweat and grime pumps out of his pony pucker for seconds on end, with the mannerless brute simply shrugging it off as he continues his feast.
Applejack, meanwhile, breaks out into a frown. "Y'know, that pie was to share for the both of us..." She rumbles, to which Mac's ears perk up like 'dishes. In his slow, matter-of-fact way of speaking, he says "That's alright. I made something for you too, 'sis." This gets AJ's attention, as her eyes sparkle and shine. Macintosh takes a minute more to finish off the rest of the pie, his tongue swirling around the bottom of the tin to collect the crumbs, before he lifts himself up. The chair has a new paintjob to it, a bullseye of sorts--albeit, it's lost its legs in the process. The brutish slob saunters over to the other side of the table, the house shaking with each step he takes, until he's standing a foot away from his sister. "It's a surprise." He rumbles, and motions for her to close her eyes. What happens next occurs with dexterity befitting to a gymnist, as Big Mac spins 'round and presses AJ's head deep into his grime and slime-filled ass-crack until her muzzle is pressing up against his fat pucker. He hikes his tail up and grunts. BPLRRPRRTTSHHH! Foul smog billows out of his behind, a great deal of which ends up in AJ's quivering maw. The mare wretches and groans, but it helps not. Big Mac's stomach grumbles once more, signalling another onslaught of gas approaches. BBbbBBRURARRPRRTT! Applejack's hind hooves kick out, and with it, she knocks the chair out from under her and goes crashing onto the floor. Fortunately for the blubberstud, he's got a comfy mare to cushion his fall.
As the heat of the room increases as a result of Mac's various expulsions, the sweat pouring off of Big Mac rears its foul head, particularly in his pits, which smell like death in a gym locker! Much of these excretions work their way downwards, tarnishing his vibrant red coat in a grey slurry, but also feeding into his sis's body as well. His stomach slowly begins to feel better--nothing like a big sis to help you out! "Eyuuup!"
After the trio’s escapades climbing the mountain, the three creatures crawled back to their individual hideaways in Grogar’s lair. Tirek went to his oddly obsessive workout gym, Cozy to her disgustingly frilly, pink, and ponyish ‘friendly family fun den’, the very name of which still disgusts Chrysalis each time that string of words rings through her mind, and, of course, Chrysalis to her own brooding spot. Whereas the other two had spruced up their living spaces, Chrysalis’s is still stark and devoid of much of anything… mind the sculpted wood hoof she’d ripped from one of the changeling statues she’d created prior to being summoned by their goat-leader. Not even a single cocoon hangs from the ceiling. Truly, pitiful. Well, other than also possessing the source of their leader’s power, some broken old bell tucked away in a crack in the wall.
And yet, the changeling queen feels elated! It was only yesterday where she consumed a meal worthy of her stature, and the strength that flows now through her is much a result of this. “And now that I’m back to my full strength…” Chrysalis muses. “Twilight Sparkle and her pathetic pony friends shall despair at my hooves!... Even if it requires me to work with the minotaur and filly. Hrmf!”
The tall, lanky creature carefully trots around the centerpiece of the room, eyeing it, scowling at it with a glance that could turn one’s heart to stone. And then she remembers old Grogar’s bell, the changeling’s head swinging to the side to glance at it from the corner of her eye. The rusty oxidized copper still manages to gleam in the light, despite the beating it took from father time. And that’s not even mentioning the ominous glow surrounding it.
Wait. Ominous glow?
Carefully and swiftly, Chrysalis retrieves the artifact from the nook and brings it within a foot of her face. Indeed, a catching radiance distorts the very air around the relic.
She feels its energy circulating throughout the room. This object is clearly powerful… and it just so happens that power is what she needs!
The wicked queen cocks her head back, only to throw it forwards, horn spinning alight in a viridian green color much like her glowing eyes. Carefully, precisely, she excises the magiks contained within the bell, a wisp of ghostly green energy flowing into her wide-open mouth.
It takes a couple of minutes, but eventually the surface of the bell begins to dim, until like a lightning bug, it vanishes. “This darned thing provided NO energy to me! Is this some kind of cruel joke? This bell is worthless!” She shrieks, throwing the dingy bell to the ground. When it stops clanging, a large dent is left in its side.
Perhaps more importantly, Chrysalis’s belly is glowing. Sounds of sloshing and churning follow only moments later. Surprise is clearly evident in the queen’s expression – eyes wide-open, ears pressed up—the whole deal. And then she belches. This isn’t a royal belch particularly, but one of someone who is utterly stuffed to the brim with food. As she lifts a hoof to her gut to feel it around, another haughty burp comes spraying out of her muzzle, with this one being FAR more wet. BRUARRRWRRRUUURP! “Perhaps I was wr—”
Chrysalis doesn’t get to finish her sentence as fat piles onto her form, seemingly out of the blue. Her torso widens to a size that could compete with a dining table, with accompanying rolls and dimples splaying out from the sides. Her legs billow up to the point of fat sausages with inward-pressing fat where there were once leg-holes. Her ass swells to the size of four whole ponies—two for each cheek—and sweat pours out from her dark and overly-heated ass-crack. Her back becomes so enveloped in fat that it forms divots around her wings. And as for her face? Of all the parts of her body, it takes the least of the hit, with only three chins forming underneath that of her original, and her cheeks widening considerably. Her mane does poorly to properly cover her head, and her crown is now comically undersized.
When all is said and done, a giant black and green mass is standing?... perhaps sitting, in the middle of the room, oozing sweat in puddles outwards as a result of the heat generated by her growth spurt. “To think, I could have had THIS much power simply by stealing it from Grogar! Perhaps Tirek is onto something…” Chrysalis breaks out into a mad burst of cackling that goes on for ages. Eventually though, she comes to an unfortunate conclusion. “I’m going to need to widen the door…”