Commission for  Scot-Rahul

His sona visits Larbordale! And as would most travelers without much experience for the way things work in this town, may make a few faux PAWS before the day is over.

This was an experimental commission, by the way. In case anyone is interested...

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Weighting Room
By Tyrex Kyuris
Commission for Scot-Rahul

New towns are always an interesting experience, but Scot was just a little nervous. He had been looking through dimensions to visit and had come across one that seemed interesting, but dangerous. After being indecisive, he had flipped a coin to try and decide whether to visit this one. It wasn’t exactly a small decision; from his ‘lair’ he could easily enter most dimensions, but once there he often had to wait until that reality ejected him back. Like a vacation into a new reality.
But as he stepped through, a cool light hit him before he saw himself.
For a split second, he panicked, for fear of another paradox, but it was just a mirror. Of course it was just a mirror. Ten billion times out of ten billion and one, it was obviously going to be a reflection, not another version of himself trying to stop him from entering this dimension.
He had come out into a bathroom; this was the luckiest of points to enter a dimension. He took a moment to wash his paws in the sink before pushing open the door to see where he was.
It was a reception room of some sort; rows of chairs and a desk with books and a rather bored looking blue dragon sitting behind it. He was writing idly on something behind the desk and looked up to see Scot with little more than a raised brow.
“May I help you?” He tapped the end of his pencil on the desk.
“Yes, I… um…” Scot was just thankful the furs in this dimension spoke English.
“Were you looking to sign up for a dwelling?”
“Um… yes.” The dragon adjusted his reading glasses and removed a booklet from behind his desk and set it on the counter.
“Okay, this is the contract for residing here. It’s fairly basic, but an ink pawprint is all I need. Of course there’s a lot to cover first, but if you just want to read it for a moment first, take your time.” A bell rang from somewhere in the room and the dragon rolled his eyes. “Sorry, I have to get that. Look over the contract if you want, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He removed his glasses and polished them with a cloth before vanishing from the room entirely in a puff of smoke.
Scot paused. This was a world with either magic or teleportation. And since the dragon had disappeared in smoke, and not digital blue glow, it was likely magic. He could leave… but maybe this bored secretary reptile could tell him something about the world at least.
He stepped over to the desk and took a quick look. Doodles. He had been drawing ridiculous doodles. No paperwork, no- ooh, hey, a candy dish. Interdimensional travel did tend to leave him just a bit peckish and, well, it wasn’t like one little piece would ruin him; he already had a small paunch on him.
His fuzzy paws filtered through the candy dish until a glint of blue wrapping caught his attention. The triangular shape within piqued his curiosity and he pulled it out from the other wrapped sweets. It had the soft feel of a chocolate and as he pulled the ends, a small pyramid of warm brown cocoa greeted him. Scot popped the treat into his mouth and let the chocolate begin to melt on his tongue. Mmmmmm…
It felt like a rather thick mouthful of chocolate and he swallowed it down, feeling the rich cocoa coat the inside of his throat. Yet the chocolate had been so rich it still felt like a lot has stuck to the inside of the otter’s fuzzy mouth, and so he ran his tongue around the inside of his maw and swallowed the residue. Mmmm…. That felt just as rich and chocolatey as the first. And there was still lots of chocolate left on his mouth, particularly on the tongue.
Scot swallowed another mouthful of chocolate as his paws slowly slid down the curve of his chest to his belly. That was odd… he gulped down another mouthful of chocolate and realized that it did not even remotely taste like leftover sweet residue; it felt like a mouth packed full of chocolate!
And yet as he realized this, he felt his cheeks being pushed outwards by what felt like a softball sized glob of cocoa and sugar in his mouth, rapidly swelling. He spotted a mirror and ran for it, opening his mouth to see what was happening. It looked like an orb of molten chocolate had been crammed into his mouth, yet none was leaking out the open muzzle. Instead, he felt it leaking down his throat in big syrupy pulses. His gut began to gurgle and swell as chocolate continued to pour into his tummy. A slow groan squeezed around the orb of chocolate and escaped Scot’s lips as a big slice of fuzzy ochre colored belly began to emerge from underneath his shirt, swelling too fast for the otter’s clothes to contain.
In surprise, the only thing he could think to do would be to attempt to spit the chocolate out, but the chocolate seemed to simply overwhelm any attempt; even gravity trying to pull even a droplet out of his open mouth was overcome as the sweet poured determinedly down his throat.
The burgundy otter moaned as he felt his stomach begin to cry for mercy as his shirt rode up higher and higher back. His stomach was quickly becoming a solid orb with only a small layer of his original pudge containing a densely packed gut the size of a medicine ball. The weight was enough to cause him to stumble and stagger as he tried to find a seat. He dropped down into one of the waiting room armchairs, and with a sinking dread noticed how it seemed to have been made specifically with strong support and wide arms… specifically for folks with a lot of extra pounds hanging around. He tried to get up; something nefarious was happening here, but the weight was like having cannonballs tied to him and his stomach begged him to hold still; every bounce and sway was a bolt of overglutted pain running through him.
He held still and the dull ache of an increasingly larger stomach finally seemed to fade when his stomach felt like someone had filled a beachball with sand and water and dropped it in his lap. He swallowed the last mouthful of chocolate, finally feeling it fade from his tongue, and leaned forward onto the fuzzy orb that was his belly in an attempt to try and massage some of the pain out of it.
“Oh, I see you already had some candy…” He looked up to see the dragon re-enter the room. “Usually that’s more if an after contract thing.”
“What… what was in that?!”
“That’s supposed to be to help you get enough money to get started in Larbordale.” The dragon paused. “Replicating chocolates? Helps you build a good layer of fat which we’ll buy from you?” He tilted his head. “Are you not from around here?”
“N-no…” Scot whimpered.
“Oh. Sorry. I should have said ‘don’t touch anything’ then. Which you shouldn’t have.” He put his hands on his hips and shook his head. “Well, welcome to Larbordale…. What was it again?”
“Scot.”
“Welcome to Larbordal, Scot. I’m Tyrex.” The dragon stepped over and offered a hand to help him up. “Let’s get you to a bed or something to sleep that off.”