Soarin's Glory [First-Person Pie Indulgence]

>in the Wonderbolts' annual performance at the Summer Sun Celebration
>first time in the air for a formal event like this since my last major injury
>went off without a hitch
>we all come to a rest at the castle grounds
>everyone’s congratulating each other for a job well done, the usual niceties
>take in any compliments for my efforts and recovery
>still somewhat bored by the whole ordeal
>feeling antsy after the show, but have nothing to burn it off
>sneak away explore the grounds a little more
>learn that a dessert competition will be taking place in Canterlot in a couple of days
>sweet tooth starts to ache and make my mouth water as I read the flyer
>quickly fly back to Spitfire and the others
>tell them my interest in going to this thing and sampling some of what competitors from all over the globe are baking
>Spitfire gives an unwavering ‘No’
>she wants us to stay near the castle and make the most of the princesses’ hospitality for giving us a suite for the week we will be in the city
>push on and insist that the competition will be nearby
>further assert that I would only be there for a few hours before coming right back
>unphased, she reminds me of my lack of control around desserts and my bad habits that could ruin my flight-ready physique
>remember the last time I had to work off a potbelly from one of my last pastry binges
>sigh and admit to her she’s right
>she’s an amazing captain, but sometimes she’s just too no-nonsense for me
>a couple of uninteresting days pass
>although we’re technically on break after our last big stunt show, we’re still encouraged to practice and keep our flight patterns finely tuned
>fall into a routine of going out, exercising, flying, going back in, napping
>ad nauseum for the whole time we have to be there
>not even the magazines I keep at the bedside are entertaining enough
>hear someone walk in the door, interrupting my nap
>ignore it until I hear someone whispering to me to get my attention

“Psst, Soarin’!”
>peek out from the magazine covering my eyes
>see Fleetfoot leaning over to me to get my attention
>she greets me with a bright smile
“Wake up, sunshine! We’ve got a dessert competition to see!”
>fall back onto my bed with a sigh, telling her it’s no point since there’s no way Spitfire wouldn’t know about it
>Fleetfoot prods my side to urge me on
“C’mon! What’s the worst she could ever do to you?”
>Gee, I dunno… scold me, increase my workload, kick me off the team…
>she rolls her eyes and pulls on my leg to try and get me out of the bed
“Oh, pssh! After your last pig-out? Trust me, if she wanted you out of the ‘Bolts, she would’ve done it a long time ago!”
>Wow, thanks for reminding me of one of my least proud moments with the team
>nonetheless feel a little more relieved and move myself out of the bed
>join her side in sneaking out of the castle chambers and move toward the site of the competition
>after a short flight we both find ourselves surrounded by the most tempting sweets Equestria has to offer
>find myself constantly wiping away the drool dribbling from the corners of my mouth
>Fleet pulls me along before I get to stare too long at the confections, motioning toward one of the tents
“Soar! Check this out!”
>turn my focus to the direction she indicates
>inside the tent is a group of long tables lined with various desserts, but especially pies
>the banner states that it’s for an open invitational for amateur pie-eating, allowing spectators a little dose of the competitive spirit
>and the free pie is certainly a nice bonus
>catch the meaning of what Fleet’s suggesting and immediately shake my head
>she spits out an annoyed response
“Bah, what’ve you got to lose?”
>joke that I’m more worried about gaining something than losing it
“You’re such a baby! Now, level with me here…”
>she looks to me with a hard glare and puts a hoof on my shoulder, not letting me take my eyes off of her

“I’m honestly kinda worried that you’re just not your old self anymore. You worked so hard ever since you recovered that, well, you’re kinda boring now!”
>blank out and in my inability to form a response, not sure where she’s going with this
>she lightens up her tone with a small laugh, shaking her head and patting my shoulder
“And... this is gonna sound really dumb, but I kinda want the old Soarin’ back! The crazy dude who would just do stuff like eat half his weight in pies, or fly through the smallest rings, all without flinching!”
>can’t help but find it a little touched, if in a weird way
>reflect a moment over what she said... I had been working awfully hard just to get back to peak condition
“And hey, I’m sure even Spitfire would say you should have a little fun every once in a while! You did great the other night for your first show in a while, I think you deserve a little treat, hm? Besides, what’s a little pie gonna do to ya?”
>It’s a lot of pie that I’m worried about
>she doesn’t seem to care about my doubts and pushes my flank to walk me to the booth
>ultimately give in as I’m forced into the tent, sitting by one of the tables to await my fate
>Fleet gives me a wink as she apparently detects how nervous I am
“Just relax, live a little! And if Spitfire says something, I can take the blame, hm?”
 >she calls over the host of the contest, an orange pony with a blond mane and...
>Hey, wait, I remember her!
>we both glance at each other and wave in polite recognition, saying I recall her as one of Rainbow Dash’s friends
>she lifts her hat to me with a warm smile
“Yep, it’s me! Got invited to host this here thing and said, ‘Well, what the hay!’ So here I am. Take it you want in on the next eatin’ contest round?”
>waver slightly, but ultimately nod to say yes as I see Fleet trying to egg me on
“Welp, best of luck to ya! Word of warnin’, though, the competition’s been stiff each time!”

>Fleetfoot slaps my back with a hearty laugh
“Don’t forget that Soarin’ here’s a Wonderbolt! He’s nothing if not ready for a good challenge!”
>still somewhat uncertain, but I drum up the nerve to play along
>before long more ponies stop by and sign in
>the seats on each side of me fill quickly with ponies of all sizes
>some of which have stomachs that are probably bigger than me
>swallow and feel like I’m about to choke, and I haven’t even started eating yet
>before too long it’s time to start
>Applejack explains the rules
>eight minutes to eat as much as we can, no hooves, no outside help
>seems easy enough, but some of my competition seem much more practiced
>if these are ‘amateurs from the crowd,’ I can’t imagine what the professionals are like
>we all lean down to our first pie and put our hooves behind our backs, waiting for the host to start the clock
“Ready, set, GO!”
>dive right into the pastry, immediately getting a face full of fruit filling
>scoop as much of the sticky sweet substance into my mouth as possible, my tongue and jaw doing all of the work
>peer out from my eye to examine the technique of my opponents, trying my best to imitate their motions
>crane my neck to grab as much from the corners of the tin as I can and work my way toward the middle
>all I can smell is the blueberry filling on my snout and I think a piece of fruit got in my nose
>but I push on to polish off the pie at a rather quick pace for a pony my size
>reel back in my chair as I look down to the few crumbs and splatters of juice left behind but still enough eaten by their standards
>some ponies finished faster than I did, but I don’t care
>I’m just ready for the next one
>set the first dish aside look down to my second target, a perfect cherry pie just waiting to be destroyed
>waste little time to shove my nose and mouth into it
>slightly put off by the tarter flavor, but it’s still serviceable and even more delicious than the last one

>find my rhythm and work through it using the same method as the last time
>start from the sides and scoop up a few pieces of pie at a time, filling my cheeks before finally swallowing in several gulps
>haven’t eaten like this in a long time, and the sugar combined with the energy of the crowd just makes it all the more thrilling
>finally manage to catch my breath after making short work of the second pie
>belch a little as I’m already starting to feel a little short on space in my stomach, licking my lips while my third dessert is set out before me
>Pumpkin? You guys are holding out on me!
>the whole eight minutes is nothing but me getting pie all over my face, consuming each one even faster than the last
>everyone in the crowd and at the table looks on in shock at my progress, surprised that I’m not even close to slowing down
>at this point, though, I’m not paying them any mind
>my rivals aren’t the other contestants... only the pies
>before I know it, I’m working on my fourteenth pie
>swallow the last few chunks still in my cheeks as Applejack calls time
>pant a moment and take a second to look at what all I’ve done
>a stack of empty pie tins rests on the right side of the table
>whimper as I realize my belly sticks out several inches and hits the edge of the table, growling at me as though enraged by all the abuse I put it through
>face feels caked with a mess of fillings and pie crusts
>everyone, including Applejack and Fleetfoot, come up to me to congratulate my victory
>too bad my gut is too torn up to really enjoy it
>hiccup and belch as I get up to waddle away after claiming a ribbon prize, more eager to sleep than ever
>Fleet accompanies my side, cheerfully smacking my low-hanging gut
“That was AWESOME, Soar! Didn’t know you had it in ya... literally!”
>don’t reciprocate the humor, releasing a pained moan instead
>she stays quiet after an awkward clear of her throat, easing her light-hearted mood and looking to the road ahead

“Alright, alright... so you might’ve gotten a little carried away, but it was fun, right? Let’s just get back to your room then, hm?”
>lighten up slightly and tell her that she just gave me her first good idea of the day
>she simply rolls her eyes and gives my rounded another prod
>hiss slightly at the displacement of the pressure inside, but that doesn’t make her put her hoof down
“Easy on the snark, there, fatty. I was nice enough to invite you to come here, right?”
>she relaxes her attitude with a sigh, giving her wings a flap in preparation
“Think you can fly your way back to the castle?”
>try to give my wings a few flaps and jump for a take off, but my stomach is weighed down too much
>all those pies really did a number on me... might have to walk this one
>Fleetfoot sighs and closes her wings
“Well, wouldn’t wanna leave you to walk alone... I’ll stick by ya, make sure you don’t keel over or anything, hehe.”
>can’t help but smile at her assurance, relaxed by her company even as my stomach complains the whole way

>finally arrive at the castle in the late afternoon, not quite sunset but close enough
>Sweet Celestia, why did the sun have to be so hot
>all the walking combined by my fullness leaves a slight sweat on my brow and an achy feeling in my legs
>all I want to do is lie down on the bed and sleep all this off, hoping Starfire won’t get on either of our cases too much
>sigh and moan as I flop face-first onto the royal suite bed, turning on my side to accommodate for the bulge in my middle
>it thankfully has receded slightly, but there’s still a distinguishable distension there
>look and feel less like the proud, flying Wonderbolt I’m supposed to be
>hold my face in my hooves in self-pity for a long while
>suddenly feel a hoof rubbing and tracing the contour of my stomach’s curve
>close my eyes and melt at how wonderful it feels, but I still have to look over to who it could be
>shocked as I see it's Fleetfoot

>she looks over my bloated body with a small blush but doesn’t take her hoof away
>her voice takes on a smooth, tender coo as though out of comfort
“Oh, Soar, don’t worry! This’ll burn off at some point, and you’ll be back to your normal self in no time! Besides...”
>she pauses a second before breaking out a laugh
“This is gonna sound really weird, but I think you kinda rock this look! Almost like a pregnant mare, heh.”
>feel somewhat embarrassed by the comparison, but soon I laugh along with her
>interrupted by a loud gurgle
>Fleet looks at my belly with a puzzled expression before turning back to me
“Surely, you can’t still be hungry!”
>assure her that it’s still just digesting from all the pie that was crammed into it
>she smirks and leans down to rest her ear on my belly, my face growing hotter in embarrassment as she serenely listens to the noises inside
>Is she really into this kind of thing? I would never have guessed.
>she perks up slightly as she sees me notice her, quickly retracting herself away from my body with a fake cough
>she recovers enough to reach down to her saddlebag
“Oh! Before I forget... That nice pony at the booth wanted to give you a little complimentary prize, but you were too busy trying to get away to notice. So, she passed it off to me!”
>she pulls out a decently sized brown cardboard box, fairly nondescript until Fleet opens the top
>inside is the most intoxicating aroma... sweet, subtle, and still warm, almost like--
“Apple pie? Huh, your favorite, if I remember right?”
>Fleet looks at me and teasingly bobs her eyebrows, though my stomach churns in response
>tell her that I’m pretty much done with pies for the moment
“Oh, come on! Who are you to turn down an apple pie?”
>groan, simply because it smells so good
>she grabs a fork from inside the box and grins
“I’ll even feed it to you...”
>blush a little and think for a second before giving her a shrug
>One more pie couldn’t hurt