Also known as Wrath of a Chef Scorned. The very first story commission I've ever gotten and I'm very happy with how it turned out. Azar's curiosity gets the better of him and a certain mad Chef finds a use for the curious dragon.
All thanks to  Sanagi for creating this wonderful story for me. It turned out better than I could have hoped!

Wrath of a Chef Scorned
To be perfectly honest with himself…Azar hated these trips. While he would obediently come along on them, the old training campouts were starting to get tiring. Nothing ever really happened during them, and the white dragon, while he loved the outdoors, was just plain tired of having to sit around and guard a bundle of tents and their occupants from what he knew to be nothing. At least it wasn’t always in the same exact place every time, so he’d get some fun in exploring the place under the guise of reconnaissance. Getting to stretch his wings was always nice. But that was cut down quick every night when he had to sit still and stand guard. Against what? There weren’t any other teams, this was just a basic survival training trip, and there wasn’t another team or anything to defend against. But ah well, orders were orders, and he followed them even so.

The forest they had set up in was a far way’s off from where they’d last been. New territory to him. Always fun to explore! Though he still hated the nightly standing guard, sitting on his haunches for nothing. That changed one night, though. While glancing about, trying to stretch his wings a bit in the small clearing they’d set up in, he had decided to maybe patrol about, stir things up. Look about the forest, maybe, keep his legs from locking up. Glancing out into the darkness, something catches his eyes. A glint? Something strange, a flickering light in between the trees. What was it? It was too far off to make anything out. He thought of tales of old Will’o’wisps, those ghostly lights that lured travelers around the woods. Oh, or maybe it was something else! His curiosity was whirring and spinning about rapidly. He glanced back at the camp. Everyone else was asleep. Nothing would happen to them, he was sure of it. And he’d be back soon enough, no one would notice!

After a few passing rounds to make sure no one was watching, he quickly jumped into the brush, sprinting through the dense forest towards the light! Shiny shiny shiny…maybe it was playing off of his instinctual, draconic lust for shinies alongside his personal curiosity driving him along. Either way, his mind was abuzz with curiosity as he remained focused on the light! The dark fog obscured any details as he dashed through the underbrush. It was only after he burst through into the clearing that he finally saw the source of the light, an old, large cabin. Azar blinked, looking back the way he came, and started to look the place in detail. Most of the windows were dark, dusty, and the blinds tattered and moth-eaten and the exterior was likewise decrepit. The wooden boarding was rotten, packed tight and showing only barest signs of attempts at repair, the occasional added, off-color, newer planks nailed up along the long siding to keep the rough boards in place. Vines were even climbing up the sides, rampant and wildly overgrown. Only a few windows were lit, and as much as he tried to peer through, they were too steamed up to let him see anything. The chimney was curving away dangerously from the house, but even so, smoke was billowing out of the top steadily. Someone had to have lit the fire, so someone had to be there! Maybe he could meet whoever owned the place?

He roamed back up to the front door, scaling the cracked, weed-choked stone steps and gave it a knock. No one answered. Undeterred, he pushed at the door, trying to see if it was open. It barely budged. Locked. Now his curiosity was really piqued. Maybe they were out? He could explore the place, see who exactly lived here, and get back out before they returned! He roamed around, looking for any other ways in. The only other way he could find, other than trying to squeeze through the windows that frankly looked too small for his large frame, was a back door, apparently leading right into the room with the lights. Giving the handle a push, it opens with a loud squeak, and as it does, the scent of some of the most tantalizing cooking on earth hits him! Salted meats, glazed pastry treats, all sorts of delectable delights smelled to be in the works here! His curiosity once more getting the better of him, he slinks in, trying to look over. It’s roughly then, as he’s just rounding a corner and getting a glimpse at the menagerie of smells’ source that a feeling of dull steel comes down hard on his head with a loud ‘CLANG!’ He stumbles, before dropping to the floor, knocked out cold.

“Mmmf…nuh…nnnngh…” He stirred, slowly. His head was still sore. Ears ringing. He shook his head a bit, but he quickly regretted it, a buzzing sensation building in his aching skull flaring up and forcing a pained groan out of him. Next he tried to open his eyes. Blinking a bit, he was greeted by the soft light of a weak lamp overhead, as well as that of a carefully-maintained, roaring fire in a modest stone oven. He tried to sit up, but couldn’t. Mostly because he was, in fact, on the floor, and likewise because he was quite firmly restrained. His limbs were all bound together by a length of strong leather belt, buckled down as tight as could be on his wrists and ankles, even his lengthy tail. He tried to squirm, flare his wings, but they were likewise held tightly to his back, a belt wrapped around both them and his belly. Struggle and strain as he might, the belts proved extraordinarily durable. His headache eventually forced him back onto his side, huffing and panting. Where was he, anyway? Leaning his head up some, he looked about the room, trying to take in a bit more detail. He was laying on some old wooden floor, well-cleaned from the way it shined in the light. The floor was part of a large kitchen, though how cluttered it was gave a far more cramped impression. The counters were filled to the brim with various meals, treats, and snacks, most finished, some missing frosting or garnishes, or otherwise still waiting to be completed. Alongside them, of course, were the tools of their creation. Pastry bags, cleavers, knives, sauce brushes, spatulas, mixing spoons, pots, pans, everything one could possibly need to concoct just about every type of food known to earth. Rolling over, he saw more of the same, piled almost to the ceiling in some precarious balance. Truth be told, all the food all around him was starting to work up an appetite…

The sounds of footsteps brought him out of his daze. He blinked and tried to look back towards the open entry to the kitchen. There stood his host, hands grasped together in a surprisingly welcoming gesture.
“Ah, hello! I wasn’t expecting guests this far out, hehee! So do pardon that little bump I gave your head, I was just a tad, ah, spooked!” She tittered along, wide-eyed and giggling, her expression almost manic. She took a few steps in from the darkened, disused room nearby and into the light. She resembled a raven, but her plumage was colored a dark purple at the tips. Likewise with her tailfeathers, capped by small bits of violet atop a dark, dark grey. Her figure, overall, stood rather stout, rather heavyset, even outright chubby. Every part of her figure softened by a fine layer of pudge. Other than that, though, her appearance was scraggly, unkempt. Her feathers curled up strangely at various points, ruffled, and her chef outfit was stained and torn at several seams. Overall, she seemed rather out of touch with this, with how raggedy her appearance was. “So, as a guest, I suppose I should treat you, hrrm? It’d be rude to let you leave without a fine, filling meal!” Shi chirped rather cheerily, and stepped past the dragon to continue working on a dish, apparently a hearty pot filled with sauce-drenched spaghetti! “Y’know, I used to be on the path to becoming a professional chef,” she begins apropos of nothing. “Went to an amazing school, learning all the finest recipes, the best cooking methods, so on…but..” her stance tensed up, and she began working at the spaghetti much harder, practically beating at it with the spoon. “They had us try and make our own unique dishes. Something that represented us, or we felt would be a grand masterpiece of our ultimate style of cooking. I put all my work into it, I was naïve and hoped my work would be appreciated for what I was trying. At first, it was, and everything seemed golden. Then…then, not a few hours later, those damned fools turned around. The food had been delectable, they said…but oh dear, rendering my instructor quite delightfully round with a fine layer of healthy chub was apparently a very uncalled for and disliked aspect of my creations. One that I had put into EVERY treat, all throughout the years. Before I could graduate…” Shi withdraws the spoon and slams it onto the counter, glaring down at the pot. “They booted me out. Barred me, robbed me of my chance to become a distinguished chef. Destroyed my chances of getting into ANY proper restaurant, anywhere.” Azar just sat there and stared, wide-eyed and completely baffled. She seemed a complete loony, an overreacting nut to him. But that didn’t change the fact he was still bound up on the floor of her kitchen. In fact, it just made that fact even more worrisome. “So,” she continued, “I came out here. I decided to work and refine my formula. To perfect it, make it so irresistible. To show them what fattening really is. How filling my meals could BE.” She turned to once more face the dragon, grinning wide once more. Though this time it was an out of control, maniacal smile. “And YOU, my dear, will be the first to sample these newest, savory delights. Every. Last. One!!” Her giggle was a worrisome, forced sound as she approached the dragon, gripping tightly onto the handles of the pot. “Bon appetite!”

With that, she squatted down and thrust the pot right into Azar’s face. The dragon naturally recoiled at first, but the smell of that savory sauce and those soft, slurpable noodles…maybe a little sample wouldn’t hurt. It’d likely calm down the wild-eyed bird trying to bury his snout in them, at the least. Slowly, he leaned back in and opened his mouth, biting down softly and starting to slurp the noodles up. Ooooh, goodness, did they taste good! She hadn’t been kidding, the stuff DID taste grand. He eagerly slurped up the rest, starting to bite and gulp up globs of sauce and meatball and noodle, even licking the pot clean! He sighed and rolled back onto his side, licking the tomato sauce from his lips. Of course, the delighted daze didn’t last for long, as his belly began to swell out, slowly, but even so, soon it was bulging out around the belt, squeezed uncomfortably tight. The dragon groaned, struggling and squirming, even as the chef brought another cake to him. He tried to shake his head, drawing away from the frosting-coated mound of poofy bread. But the bird simply got more persistent, nudging at his mouth and eventually reaching down to pull his mouth open and shove the cake in! He gagged, but the taste caught him once more and he began to munch and gulp, icing coating his lips. Soon enough, his figure began to build a soft layer of chub, his arms thickening, neck widening, hips spreading and softening, and his thighs bulged out, thick, wide things, and all so soft and cushioning!

“Oh, look, already you’re getting that healthy thickness to ya! Now c’mon, let’s see just how much you can eat!” the chef squawked out, starting to line up her entire kitchen’s contents before the dragon, starting with a massive loaf of fresh French bread she had just pulled out of the stone oven. Down it went, the seasoned treat, slipping down his gullet whole! His belly packed on the pounds rapidly, bulging as big as a barrel. And of course, he only grew bigger, and rounder, and softer, as donuts and fried chicken and flambés descend his swelling gullet and into that increasingly-cavernous gut! With each treat, his belly rolled out, breaking the belt around it early on, and then eventually the belt binding his limbs together finally snapped, scattering around them as they swung out, padded ridiculously with fat. With that he was hefted up, the portly bird pushing him onto his seat, leaning him up against the counter. His dazed mind struggled to handle this. By this point, he had been rendered docile and malleable. He simply gawked, his mouth hanging open. A perfect receptacle for all the bird’s many, many treats! He patted at his soft, squishy gut, his claws sinking softly into the padded flesh, even as the belly beneath it was filled to the brim with all those fattening foods! He munched lazily on a lasagna dish, his chirpy host having calmed down as she watched her creations at work!

Soon enough, he was filling out most of the floor, the bird having to carefully step along his several folds of flab in order to get from the counter to Azar’s mouth. She’d occasionally knead and hug onto his massively-round tummy, covered in crumbs and the occasional sauce stain. His rear had spread out to envelop most of the counter behind him. Thankfully, the chef had made sure to move all her precious creations out of the way before they could get smushed! It wouldn’t do to let them go to waste just like that! Better to let them go to his waist, she thought! Giggling, the bird scooped up a platter filled with lengthy gyro sandwiches, cramming the massive missiles of bread, meat and lettuce sinking into the growing mélange of munched-up meals already crowding his gut. It was amazing how much effect it had had on him all throughout the stuffing. He couldn’t very well tell, but through all the stuffing, he was actually managing to empty out the mad bird’s kitchen, all her concoctions vanishing into his massive tum. He was so stuffed…and so warm…and so big, and round…mmf, how could he resist all these delights? The birdy giggles and grips onto one of his massively overfilled cheeks, jiggling it and gleefully laughing out.
“See!? I told you I’d show them what ‘fattening’ was! There’s so much chub on you you’ll be warm and swaddled for –ageeees-!” The birdy tittered and took one last tray in hand, setting it before the engorged blob of a dragon. Azar could barely mumble, his face packed with wobbly, jiggling pudge, but he could at least still open his mouth. That was enough to stuff the last batch of sweet rolls she had concocted in. One right after the other, puffing out his cheeks even further, they all vanished into his widened craw. So full…it was getting hard to even stay conscious. He had so much in his belly. It was so tight, and he was so warm…Even as the bird helped him chew the last few sweet rolls, having tossed the tray aside, his eyelids were fighting a losing battle. It would be so nice to just nap off all this food right now… And as the mad chef bird stumbles off, her elated, unsettled giggling, finally feeling accomplished in having proven the effectiveness of her cooking, he did just that, passing out at last. Why bother staying awake anyway, when he felt so debilitatingly full…

The faint redness shining on his eyes forced a minor groan out of him. He lazily opened his eyes. Blinking them clear. It was morning, and the sun had been shining on his eyelids. Gurgling, he moaned and let out a yawn, which quite suddenly burst into a loud, drawn out ‘BRAAAAP!’ Oof, he was so full…He tried to sit up. But, as he was, that got him nowhere. He simply started his massive form sloshing and wobbling, and it kept at it almost a minute after he stopped moving. Oh…oh dear, he thought. He wasn’t liable to see any action in this state. Hell, even getting out of this house was going to be an issue. Even more so, given the humming bird, working on a hearty and likely fattening breakfast even as she kneaded at his fat with her talons. Hopefully his unit would find him soon, because otherwise, it was likely he’d be sticking around for an extremely long time…