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Edit:
Forgot to post this: 45 minutes, hoo-hah!
Story haaaas:
Weight gain,
Dragons,
Fatteh
Stuffing,
Minor slobbishness,
Once again, I felt the need to go ahead and try my hand at speed writing. Not too terribly sure how well it came out, but there it is. As per usual, the story's in the comment if you can't read the PDF file. Feel free to leave your comments and critiques, as per usual. I live off of your feedback.
Van was confused. No, scratch that. Van had left confused behind several hours ago. The amethyst colored dragon was utterly and completely lost within the confines of an arboreal forest. He had started this day determined to go on a nature hike. However, with his usual trail crowded, and his irritation slowly growing, the dragon had decided that he would find another way through and around the landscape. That had obviously been a bust, and when the dragon had attempted to simply fly his way out of the forest, he found that the trees continued to move ever onwards, well past the natural limits and the skyline of the wooden maze.
So it was, that Van stood against a tree, hours later. His shirt lay damp with sweat, his shorts stained with grass and dirt, and his stomach, usually quiet and content with the cardboard diet of salads and protein shakes, was bellowing at him. Rumbling, so that it could alert its owner that it was well over-due for a meal. The dragon, with his lean and wiry frame, let out a breathy sigh. What was he going to do?
What could he do? He pushed off of the tree, brushing himself off with a grunt. There was nothing to do, he decided, but to continue onwards. His clawed feet hit the ground, and he set off at a jog, closing his eyes, and letting his instincts take him where they would. After all, reasoning, logic, and common sense had left the building long ago, screaming and being carried off by nice ice cream men. Van almost laughed at that thought. Almost, but he was moreover worried; worried about never finding his way out of this accursed forest. About never seeing his friends, or family again. He wasn’t worried so much about his job, though. An accountant. That was just oh so something for him to worry about, the stocking of numbers and endlessly perusing through one dead file after enough just to scrounge up some money.
“I bet they’d have a replacement for me by the end of the—WOAH!”
Van’s thinking aloud had been unceremoniously interrupted by the sound of a splash. His, splash, to be more precise, as he’d fallen into some kind of river. A sticky river, he noted. The dragon opened his eyes, trying to see which way was up when he found something much more distressing. He was in a river, certainly. Though it was a river that he was sure didn’t exist in any real, normal part of nature. It was a river comprised entirely of honey. It was all very interesting, really, but there was an incredibly pressing concern. Van was being dragged down by it all. It was so thick. Swimming wasn’t an option, and he could feel it pulling him down, a surging current of honey that refused to stop for anything. The dragon tried to hold his breath for as long as he possibly could, out of pure instinct, but it was all in vain.
He had to open his mouth.
And in surged the honey.
The taste was nigh-on indescribable. For Van, a man who’d never known any food other than what was sold by preachy religious health nuts and the like, it was an eye-opening experience. A taste so sweet that it instantly overrode every other thought that wasn’t about getting that sweet, goopy substance into his maw. His mouth opened up wide, and he started gulping it down like a creature possessed. Had his mind been on anything else but the honey, he might have noticed that he stopped needing to breathe. But of course neat details like the things keeping him alive just escaped him.
The honey came down his throat, a thick and hearty sludge that filled out and pushed his stomach to its limits in the first few gulps. For a moment, he was hit with the pain of being over-filled with food, only for it to subside, as something transformed inside of him. The pain receded, and he expanded. His stomach was hard, then soft, growing with every surge of honey that his new and unassailable appetite brought with him. First his midsection turned into a pot-belly, and then a hard gut, growing outwards without pause or hesitation, wide blubbery love-handles forming on his sides as well. His stomach surged downwards towards, while his hips flared outwards. Where he had once held a scrawny set of legs, they were now thick and rife with fat. His thighs rounding out, and soon graining the texture of cottage cheese, as they grew—inch by inch, and soon afterwards, foot by foot, becoming barrel-sized in their girthy countenance.
And all the while, Van continued to drink, never once noticing what the honey had to have been doing to his once lean figure. Soon enough, his arms were following suit, becoming so fat that even had Van not been under several hundred rushing gallons of honey, he wouldn’t have been able to move them anyway. And as that happened, his chest turned into a prodigious swell—a set of mountainous breasts, large and heavy enough that the slabs of fat sat on his chest like two boulders, ever expanding outwards like a tidal wave of fat. His backside was no better of course, and Van could slowly feel it damming up parts of the river, his cheeks having become so thick that they surged dozens of feet backwards. There was no denying it. Van had started this journey lean and fit. And he would end it, fatter than he or anyone else had ever thought possible, immobilized in a sea of fat. There were worse ways to go, one supposed.
The dragon continued to drink, even after his fatty sides had gotten so wide that they were expanding to the other side of the river bank. He continued to drink, even though great bucket loads of honey had somehow worked its way up his back-side, leaving him a complete and sticky mess. The dragon continued to drink, even though he should have reached his bursting point long ago. The dragon continued to drink until there was absolutely no honey left in the entire basin. And then he did the only natural thing in that situation.
“BURURRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!”
He belched, a mighty noise so powerful and loud that it shook the very earth around him. That, was all he had left to do. He sighed and let his head rest back on the multiples of chins and fat rolls that his swollen head had accrued during his gorge fest. Now that he was back to normal, the dragon had to wonder.
Just what in the dickens was he going to do when he got hungry again?
Forgot to post this: 45 minutes, hoo-hah!
Story haaaas:
Weight gain,
Dragons,
Fatteh
Stuffing,
Minor slobbishness,
Once again, I felt the need to go ahead and try my hand at speed writing. Not too terribly sure how well it came out, but there it is. As per usual, the story's in the comment if you can't read the PDF file. Feel free to leave your comments and critiques, as per usual. I live off of your feedback.
Van was confused. No, scratch that. Van had left confused behind several hours ago. The amethyst colored dragon was utterly and completely lost within the confines of an arboreal forest. He had started this day determined to go on a nature hike. However, with his usual trail crowded, and his irritation slowly growing, the dragon had decided that he would find another way through and around the landscape. That had obviously been a bust, and when the dragon had attempted to simply fly his way out of the forest, he found that the trees continued to move ever onwards, well past the natural limits and the skyline of the wooden maze.
So it was, that Van stood against a tree, hours later. His shirt lay damp with sweat, his shorts stained with grass and dirt, and his stomach, usually quiet and content with the cardboard diet of salads and protein shakes, was bellowing at him. Rumbling, so that it could alert its owner that it was well over-due for a meal. The dragon, with his lean and wiry frame, let out a breathy sigh. What was he going to do?
What could he do? He pushed off of the tree, brushing himself off with a grunt. There was nothing to do, he decided, but to continue onwards. His clawed feet hit the ground, and he set off at a jog, closing his eyes, and letting his instincts take him where they would. After all, reasoning, logic, and common sense had left the building long ago, screaming and being carried off by nice ice cream men. Van almost laughed at that thought. Almost, but he was moreover worried; worried about never finding his way out of this accursed forest. About never seeing his friends, or family again. He wasn’t worried so much about his job, though. An accountant. That was just oh so something for him to worry about, the stocking of numbers and endlessly perusing through one dead file after enough just to scrounge up some money.
“I bet they’d have a replacement for me by the end of the—WOAH!”
Van’s thinking aloud had been unceremoniously interrupted by the sound of a splash. His, splash, to be more precise, as he’d fallen into some kind of river. A sticky river, he noted. The dragon opened his eyes, trying to see which way was up when he found something much more distressing. He was in a river, certainly. Though it was a river that he was sure didn’t exist in any real, normal part of nature. It was a river comprised entirely of honey. It was all very interesting, really, but there was an incredibly pressing concern. Van was being dragged down by it all. It was so thick. Swimming wasn’t an option, and he could feel it pulling him down, a surging current of honey that refused to stop for anything. The dragon tried to hold his breath for as long as he possibly could, out of pure instinct, but it was all in vain.
He had to open his mouth.
And in surged the honey.
The taste was nigh-on indescribable. For Van, a man who’d never known any food other than what was sold by preachy religious health nuts and the like, it was an eye-opening experience. A taste so sweet that it instantly overrode every other thought that wasn’t about getting that sweet, goopy substance into his maw. His mouth opened up wide, and he started gulping it down like a creature possessed. Had his mind been on anything else but the honey, he might have noticed that he stopped needing to breathe. But of course neat details like the things keeping him alive just escaped him.
The honey came down his throat, a thick and hearty sludge that filled out and pushed his stomach to its limits in the first few gulps. For a moment, he was hit with the pain of being over-filled with food, only for it to subside, as something transformed inside of him. The pain receded, and he expanded. His stomach was hard, then soft, growing with every surge of honey that his new and unassailable appetite brought with him. First his midsection turned into a pot-belly, and then a hard gut, growing outwards without pause or hesitation, wide blubbery love-handles forming on his sides as well. His stomach surged downwards towards, while his hips flared outwards. Where he had once held a scrawny set of legs, they were now thick and rife with fat. His thighs rounding out, and soon graining the texture of cottage cheese, as they grew—inch by inch, and soon afterwards, foot by foot, becoming barrel-sized in their girthy countenance.
And all the while, Van continued to drink, never once noticing what the honey had to have been doing to his once lean figure. Soon enough, his arms were following suit, becoming so fat that even had Van not been under several hundred rushing gallons of honey, he wouldn’t have been able to move them anyway. And as that happened, his chest turned into a prodigious swell—a set of mountainous breasts, large and heavy enough that the slabs of fat sat on his chest like two boulders, ever expanding outwards like a tidal wave of fat. His backside was no better of course, and Van could slowly feel it damming up parts of the river, his cheeks having become so thick that they surged dozens of feet backwards. There was no denying it. Van had started this journey lean and fit. And he would end it, fatter than he or anyone else had ever thought possible, immobilized in a sea of fat. There were worse ways to go, one supposed.
The dragon continued to drink, even after his fatty sides had gotten so wide that they were expanding to the other side of the river bank. He continued to drink, even though great bucket loads of honey had somehow worked its way up his back-side, leaving him a complete and sticky mess. The dragon continued to drink, even though he should have reached his bursting point long ago. The dragon continued to drink until there was absolutely no honey left in the entire basin. And then he did the only natural thing in that situation.
“BURURRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!”
He belched, a mighty noise so powerful and loud that it shook the very earth around him. That, was all he had left to do. He sighed and let his head rest back on the multiples of chins and fat rolls that his swollen head had accrued during his gorge fest. Now that he was back to normal, the dragon had to wonder.
Just what in the dickens was he going to do when he got hungry again?
Category Story / Fat Furs
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 50 x 50px
File Size 176.1 kB
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