Midnight Blossom's Fourth of July Stuffing (Light NSFW)

You are now Midnight Blossom. It’s the Fourth of July, and you’ve been convinced to come to the States for the celebration. You were apprehensive at first, but your friend, Gladiolus, eased it slightly with kind words and promises of food. Standing, well, standing is a generous word, more like laying on your belly, before him, he’s telling you about what he plans to do with you while you’re here. To be quite honest, you’re only half listening, as all you can truly think about is the food here. America is, understandably, quite notorious for having all manner of tasty, unhealthy, and most importantly, fattening cuisine.

Gladi, now finished speaking about the time you'll be having in the US of A, began to lead you towards a large, unmarked warehouse. Trusting as ever, you go along with him without a thought. Opening the garage door, as you wouldn’t fit through the normal one, he ushered you inside, and turned on the lights. Staring back at you are massive, copious amounts of fried and otherwise cooked, unhealthy American food. Cheeseburgers, fried chicken, french fries, corndogs, tater tots, you name it, and it had an American flag stamped on it, it was there. You give him a look of, not just astonishment, but of lust, of hunger.

“If this is how I get treated by coming here, I’m going to have to visit more often, Gladi. Now, let’s see how much of it you can stuff into me before you give out?” you say, a lusty and challenging tone inviting him to try his luck with you.

Needing no further instruction, he soon has you seated and is stuffing you full of the greasy, burgeoning food supply in front of you, whispering sweet nothings as he gives you the greatest Fourth of July celebration you’ve ever had. Burgers, taken down in one or two bites at the most, if not just swallowed whole by your ever expansive maw. Fries could simply be poured down your throat, the salty, potato texture treating your tastebuds, and drying your mouth. Not one to ignore such struggles as thirst, he has a hose, attached to a tank of sugary, carbonated cola. As you drink, you can’t help but notice the effects your assisted gorging has had on you massive body. Your belly expands below you, stretching the fat, abused mass further outwards, bloating like a balloon. The rest of your expansive body jiggles appreciatively at the gluttonous display being shown to your partner.

You soon finish drinking, your voracious appetite nowhere near satiated. More food is poured into you without further provocation, all pretenses of cleanliness and restraint being foregone in favor of stuffing as much food into you as ponily possible. As stains and blemishes of food collected around your mouth, you began to look like a prize winning pig, your belly far outmatching any other pony’s by leagues, and fat body looking like a blob of of adipose.

American food seemed to provide a taste, texture and experience matched by no other, the greasy, fried, cholesterol laden cuisine providing a new feeling, allowing you to revel in the thoughts provided over your own gluttony. Lost in the experience, you felt every morsel of food being fed, shoveled down your maw each a starburst of flavor and decadence.

Meanwhile, Gladi was not slowing as you grew, arousal obvious in his movement, trying his best not to pounce on you, every waking moment in an agony that so desperately desired your body. The pile of food behind him was shrinking in correspondence with your increase in size, the greasy pile making a home in your ever expansive stomach. Both you and Gladi were falling in love with your growth, and you almost as desperately wanted him to have his way with you as he did, the sheer scale of your gorging turning you on like nothing else.

Too soon, the food was nearly exhausted, all being inside your gut, churning and bubbling in the taut orb you called a stomach. Gladi was, by all accounts of the senses, fatigued by the feeding,  his muscles giving out on him as he attempted to force the last of the few remaining burgers down your throat, and into your already overfull belly. You were almost as tired by the meal as he was, the meal, no, buffet of food stuffed inside trying to induce a food coma.

As the last few pieces were exhaustively fed into that massive belly, you sighed in contentment, before letting out a ear shattering belch that shook the windows of the warehouse. Angry red stretch marks covered your enormous belly, the abused flesh pleading for a break from gorging. Your hooves had long since lost touch with the ground, your entire body having been lifted by the food baby being nursed inside you. More tired than aroused, both Gladi and yourself began to fall asleep, comforted by the sounds of your stomach’s slow digestion of your meal into yet more pounds of fat and blubber on your oversized body, egging on a transition from a pig of a pony, morewise to a cow of a pony, although, you plan on getting much, much bigger than a mere cow... This was merely the start.

“The start...” you whispered to yourself, before the darkness of unconsciousness took your mind.