Waddling through the darkness Applejack crept as quietly as she could out of her room and down the hall. Though her heft caused the floor beneath her to creak with every step, she chose the absolute dead of night to embark on yet another bountiful outing. With Granny Smith, Apple Bloom, and Big Mac out of commission, none would suspect her absence; and by the time they wake up it would’ve already been too late.

Going down the stairs and giddily trotting out the doors, she made her way toward the barn; passing by a curious Winona who followed her a short distance upon being disturbed by her hefty hooves pounding into the dirt. Noticing her companion accompanying her, she scratched her head and urged her to go back to sleep. As the night before, she would be spending this one alone. Aloof and entrapped within a world of indelible glee.

Opening the barn door, she quickly squeezed inside and closed it behind her. Making sure that even the clicking latch made only a peep. It became increasingly harder to stealth her way into the barn the heavier she got. Forcing her to exercise caution around objects her rump or waistline might bump into, among other things. But through the rushed urgency and deep excited breaths, the reward had always been more than worth it. For in the middle of the barn, revealed in all their cooked-glazed glory as she lit a lantern, was a mountainous plate of apple fritters stacked as high and wide as she was. Her granny and siblings often questioned her about her tremendous gain in weight over the past month, taunting her with names like Applefat or barrel bottom. What they didn’t know was while they stored away what remained of what she bucked from trees that day, she quickly cooked up dozens of fritters for her to enjoy, and stored them in the barn at midnight under the guise of her leaving to check on the cattle. Baking fritters and pies in the blink of an eye has been a skill she couldn’t of been more proud of.

“Hello again sugarcubes,” she spoke to her banquet in a soothing voice. Longingly staring at them in a dazed state as she wobbled over to them. “Time for yall to be acquainted with mah stomach.”

Body jiggling as she plopped her massive rump down on the checkered picnic cloth, she rubbed her hooves and her belly before finally filling up an ample mug of sweet apple cider and digging in. Happily smiling, she smacked her lips as one by one the sweet glazed treats entered her mouth. Rubbing her cheeks as the sense lavished her taste buds in a comforting blanket, she washed it all down with the complimentary golden drink. Moaning in delight as food and drink splashed into her belly in a grand finish. Giving her gut a hearty smack, she continued to wolf fritters down.

Her feasting on fritters each night had become somewhat traditional now since her interest in being large first came to her. The day Rarity took care of Sugarcube Corner while Pinkie and the Cake’s were away was the day a fiery spark ignited within her. It was unbeknownst to everyone what compelled Rarity to eat the many cakes she was charged to look after that day. But the look in her eyes and just how garrulous she was about her added weight prodded at her own curiosity. And it was well worth it. The rapture, the tragedy of one so athletic becoming so heavy, so ample, so voluptuous in every sense of the word, could not be comprehended by any pony but her. Hugging, smacking, and nuzzling at each added pound, was an enjoyment she alone can experience. It was a sensation she never thought she’d feel, and as she stuffed herself, every inch was like another gift.

As her stomach began to bloat, she shifted into a more comfortable position; remembering a more recent glut where her stomach began flowing atop of her hind legs. She had become so entrapped in her gorge, she failed to notice just how much her waist expanded. Once reality struck (after gulping what remained in a barrel of cider) she had no choice but to lean back in order to free her legs. The shift in weight allowed all she had glutted on that night to slosh on top of her. Bubbling and glorping as she wrestled with a soft squishy ocean of orange fur. It was certainly more than she bargained for as her beloved weight turned against her. Yet leaning closer as if to feel her soft loving embrace. Wobbling to and fro as she attempted to push back her massive gut, her perseverance eventually paid off, as she bucked herself back to a sitting position. It was quite the workout, like a weighted ball she could jiggle fervently in her hooves. That was seven moons ago, and by tonight her burbling belly would have doubled in size.

creak

Gasping and looking behind her, her eyes bursted open in shock at who stood at the door. Blank faced, rather tired looking, and staring her down like a rattlesnake hypnotizing a jack rabbit, was her older brother Big Mac, remaining at the barn door with not so much as a perplexed eyebrow being raised. Exposed for the glutton she was at this late hour, she merely fiddled around with a single fritter between her hooves; unsure of whether to eat it or not. She also remained seated, as realization of just how much she ate began to dawn upon her in the form of how much heavier she felt. Stomach growling in question of why its feast had ceased, tiny gurgles and sloshes preceded them. Adding further embarrassment to the combination of fear she now felt.

“Big Mac, this isn’t what it looks like,” she spoke in a panic, hugging her fritter closely in comfort. “I was just tastin’em, fer Pinkie’s party tomorrow! Honest!”

Her brother’s stone faced expression didn’t budge. Her fib had obviously failed, and why wouldn’t it? After all the weight she had put on why now would her excuse to taste a tall mound of apple fritters and a few barrels of cider pass? Her squelching belly was further evidence of her indulgence. Bloated as it were it surely withheld an amount no other pony can stomach.

Her shocked disposition transitioning into that of shame and regret, Applejack held her head downcast. “You don’t think I have a problem, do ya?”

Pausing for a moment, his response was filled with such emotion it reflected the very pony she knew her brother to be. “Eeeyup.”

Sighing in disappointment, she nearly allowed the fritter to fall from her hooves. “Are ya gunna tell Granny Smith an’ Apple Bloom?”

“Nnnope.”

“Nope?”

“Eeeyup.”

Taken aback, she raised an eyebrow at the response. As he entered the barn, he took his time trotting over to a nearby haystack. Clenching something in his mouth, the lantern light revealed a worn out doll of a pony in blue pants with white polka dots and a loose button serving as his right eye. It was all too familiar to her, as this was Twilight’s childhood companion Smarty Pants which had since disappeared after her friend’s intense worry of being tardy. Standing at the doorway, he looked back to his sister still with his stone faced expression. All that needed to be said was exchanged through their eye contact. Understanding fully, she nodded at him. With a clank of the barn door shutting and the latch locking up, Applejack blew a much needed sigh of relief. For so long as she kept his secret, he’d most assuredly keep hers.

As her belly suddenly rumbled, she was reminded of her presence here. With plenty more fritters left to eat and cider yet to be drunk what was a gluttonous pony to do? “Well, best not let good fritters an’ cider go to waste.”

After all the excitement of being caught, Applejack continued her gluttony with a newfound vigor. Immediately wolfing down the fritter she had been holding in her hooves for so long, she followed it up with as much as she could cram into her chubby cheeks. Munching and swallowing with the utmost glee, she patted and rubbed at her expanding stomach; kneading it like dough as all the fritters squelched and churned for space. The feeling of having been filled so much so fast continued to intoxicate her. So much to the point she dared to do something she hadn't before.

Hugging a barrel of cider sitting beside her, she pulled it closer. Struggling to shift her position, much of her wide bottom ruffled the picnic cloth until the barrel was directly in front of her, squishing against her rotund belly. Then with all her strength, she leaned all her weight back; pulling the barrel on top of her as it pressed against her belly. The heavy weight of it took the breath out of her, as well as adding quite the discomfort to everything that occupied her midsection. But through gluttonous determination she was able to reach out with her neck, bite the cork at the top of the barrel, and pull it out; splashing a fountain of cider atop of her upper body. Thankfully not much cider left the barrel before she was able to cover the hole with her own mouth, and at that instant, an intense waterfall of cider rushed down her gullet. What seemed like an inexorable stream of liquid quickly bloated her, causing her to produce a sloppy smile as she felt her belly stretch fourth. From the corner of her eye she could catch her waist expanding; more admirably distinguishing itself from her porcine legs. In order to prevent her gut from sloshing over them, she made sure to spread her legs as her belly plopped down in between them. In a few seconds the barrel grew lighter, the pressure on her stomach was lifted along with the barrel, and waiting for her once more was a sea of orange fur.

Barrel tumbling away as she released her hold on it, she looked on in a dazed admiration of what she had created. Sloshing and undulating like waves crashing against a cliffside, her stomach’s innumerable sounds were as many as the fritters she ate. The rapture of having gorged on so much and softly rubbing her trophy of a stomach meant more to her than winning any blue ribbon at the Equestria Rodeo Competition. It was her own treasure, a rubbable mound of jiggling heft to be proud of. A glorious gut which she wobbled between her hooves; pleasurably moaning as her indigested gorge sloshed around. And yet despite its occupancy, there still remained a few morsels; and two remaining barrels of cider.

Licking her lips and blithely patting her orange orb of bubbling, burbling fat, she happily greeted it as it sloshed over her muzzle then pulled her forward. Her job hadn’t been finished yet. And seeing as the night was young, there’d be plenty of time to rest it off in the morning.

---

As the dawn made way for the coming morning, the chirping crickets were joined in their nightly song by awakening birds. But near the barn their soft tune was rudely interrupted by the bellowing of copious sloshes. Bloated beyond all comprehension, Applejack’s gorge had been more successful than she could have ever of hoped for. Practically the size of her own wagon, she’d probably be able to convert it into her own personal mobile chair; if she didn’t flatten it first. Moaning in ecstasy, she slowly popped the final fritter into her mouth, and finally packaged it into her cramped stomach. Blowing a sigh of relief, she rested herself atop of her colossal stomach.

“I hic did it,” she sighed. Glutting have proven to be quite the enjoyable and strenuous exercise. “I finally hic did it.”

Rubbing her lovely achievement, the soothing visage of a nearby bed of hay called for her. Grunting and hiccuping as her body trembled and glorped, she waddled over to it. Turning around and throwing caution to the wind, she sighed in bliss as her titanic body collapsed on top of it. Massive undulating waves jiggled throughout her whole body, producing a cacophony of noises within her belly. The sudden momentum caused everything within her to churn, making for quite the pleasurable inner belly massage. As it shifted and wobbled between her legs, she rested her forehooves upon it. Smacking it gratefully at a job well done.

“Aint no hic pony in Equestria that can match this stomach.”

Her belly rumbled in agreement, which was then preceded by a yawn. The night had taken a lot out of her, and having enjoyed such a heavy gorge only one option was left on her agenda. Tilting her hat over her eyes, she snuggled deeper into the hay bed. Her belly creeped closer to her bosom, but only enough to squish against it. Limbs growing limp and eyes heavy, she soon surrendered to sleep like a foal after a drink of warm milk. Though her hiccups accompanied her belly’s chorus of noises, her snores proved louder. As she dreamed of her past glutting, the fat which accumulated as she digested this one’s, would certainly leave an everlasting memory.