Felicity Blurb

You are now Felicity. And currently, well, you don't know what to think. Standing in front of you has to be the most *massive* cake you've seen in your entire *life*, brought into your living room by two delivery ponies who were sweating under the cake's load. However, it remains intact.

It easily surpasses you in size sixfold- even with the extra bit of pudge you've accumulated over the winter months. And the most confusing part is, there's only a note with the pink iced cake, and a cherry red heart drawn on the uppermost tier of the cake after visual inspection. The note doesn't even have a name, simply reading "Enjoy, my valentine."

Not one to really *deny* free food, though, you eventually get over the initial shell shock of having a massive cake trucked inside in favor of a plate. The largest knife you have couldn't possibly hope to cut into this, though... A conundrum worthy of the greatest pony philosophers, surely. Eventually, after trying, and failing, to get a good angle, you simply dig into the cake.

The icing disappears into your mouth, melting like snow under the assault of your frosting glazed mouth. The facade reveals a glorious bounty of red velvet cake for you to enjoy, and you dig in with gusto.

Bite after bite of the wondrous baked good makes you moan in delight, the moist cake perfectly melding with the icing. Soon, sooner than seems healthy, a full quarter is taken out of the cake's side, the majority at its bottom. Your now massive gut almost immobilizes you, making you unprepared as suddenly, the cake gives out under its own weight, burying your stuffed body in red velvet.

Not one to be beaten by a cake, you continue on, however. Each bite starts to become more and more of a chore, your gigantic gut threatening to raise your voices from the very floor.

As you soldier on with a mix of pleasure and mild discomfort on your face, another pang of fullness rings out through your glutted, tired body. You're immobile, making reaching some of the cake an even more discomfort inducing chore. Thoughts of stopping reach your rational being. *Stopping? But there's so much more!* echoes throughout your mind as a reassurance to continue.

However, eventually, many bites, and a full three quarters of the cake later, you come to an impasse. Your massively stuffed orb of a gut burbles and gurgles with digestion, its sheer size raising you too far away from the cake to even consider reaching for. The haze of gluttony dominating your mind demands more, yet you cannot provide.

So you rest, laying upon the floor like a beanbag chair, your frosting caked hooves running circles across your taut gut. Finally, your resolve for more outweighs your rationality. So, you rock yourself. Slowly at first, but then so much that you're forced on your back, and surrounded by cake. The impact send your entire body jiggling and quivering, and a massive belch escapes your lips. You realize now you have more room.

After more and more laborious filling of the near-balloon of a gut... your hooves finally give out. Hiccuping and laying limp, you tiredly revel in the fruits of your own gluttony. Your gut now is enormous, almost all of the cake sits inside it, and it took so long to scarf down that some of it has digested into even more soft flab covering your body more and more. Making you softer, fatter, bigger. It's these thoughts you comfort yourself with as you drift off to sleep, dreams of getting even larger filling your mind...