Hello, all! This is a commission for  brokendestiny featuring Shere Khan from Talespin getting very lorj, very quickly. This was actually co-written by  nocturne, with the commissioner's permission, to help me with my backlog of commissions. Enjoy, everyone!

Story © c'est moi and  nocturne
Shere Khan et al © Disney

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The office of Shere Khan had been specifically designed for intimidation; large and cavernous, with thick, lush plants surrounding either side to imitate a jungle in the most remote corners of the world, it made whoever stood before Shere Khan feel incredibly small. The tiger in question loomed at the end of his massive desk, levelling a steely glare at the weedy little otter in a too-big lab coat squirming at the other end. The intimidating tiger had been waiting for this project from his Research & Development branch for some time now, and he expected results.

“Go on,” the tiger drawled, tapping his clawed fingers against the polished surface of his desk.

“W-well, Mr. Khan,” the scientist cleared his throat, and gestured to a small vial filled with a neon blue liquid. “This is our prototype. I… I can’t give a one hundred percent guarantee, sir, but it should increase muscle mass on an unprecedented rate.”

Khan rose to his full, intimidating height. “These are dangerous times we find ourselves in, Doctor. I was embarrassed in that last run-in with Don Karnage; Khan Enterprises is the most powerful company in the world, and I will not appear anything less than invincible. This is a new era for business; what was once a cultivated garden is now a jungle. And I will be on the top of the food chain in that jungle.” The tiger’s glare made the otter tremble where he stood, as Shere Khan snatched up the serum for himself. “Is that clear?”

“B-but sir, I… I can’t give a complete guarantee…” the otter fretted. His head was doubtless filled with dread, imagining the dire consequences he would face at the tiger’s ruthless hand if his serum failed.

Shere Khan arched his brow. “Do not worry, Doctor. If failure on the first go earned my wrath to such a degree, Cape Suzette’s population would have been cut in half ages ago.”

“But… we could, very easily, find another test subject than… yourself, sir,” the otter offered meekly.

The tiger scoffed. “I want this serum for myself, doctor, and only myself. Why would I rely on someone else for such a thing? I don’t get another man to tailor my suits.”

“A-all I meant, sir, is th-that it's highly irregular to start testing on people so soon. Perhaps just another week would b-be enough.” The otter’s eyes went wide as the tiger’s fell upon him, leaving the scientist shaking.

“You were employed to create the serum that I requested of you. You were given a deadline, upon which you have delivered this vial. It was in your contract and I will not deviate from it by a period.” Moving toward a small, private refrigerator that was kept in his office, Shere Khan produced a bottle of water. Dumping some out over a some of the plants he kept he uncorked the serum. “The only concern you should have, doctor, are the results of this test. Should your serum do nothing, then I suppose you'll be working overtime for a considerable duration,” the tiger rumbled as he poured the serum into the water.

The scientist grimaced, having to bite his lip as he watched his employer hold up the glass. Internally he was screaming, but no person stood against Shere Khan. Not unless they were devoid of any sense of self-preservation. The best the otter could manage was crossing his fingers and saying a silent prayer. For all he knew things would go perfectly fine, sometimes experiments went well. His career, and potentially more, depended on that at this point.

Lifting the bottle Shere Khan looked down at the scientist before nodding curtly. “A toast, to what one can hope is a success, doctor.” Tipping the bottle to his lips the tiger drained every drop of water and serum from it. Whatever had been used in the serum wasn’t chosen for any semblance of taste. The businessman wrinkled his nose as an aftertaste equivalent to shoe leather settled on his palette. “Not the most...impressive bouquet, doctor, I will say th-,” the tiger grunted as he stopped talking suddenly.

“S-sir, are you okay?” Life flashed before the otter’s eyes for a moment. Something had to have gone wrong, his employer was never one to leave a thought unfinished. His career was over he feared, as he heard a growl come from Khan.

The tiger turned slowly, dropping the bottle he held as both hands pressed on top of his desk, claws digging into the wood. The rumbling growl melted into a soft, pleasured groan as the feline arched his back slightly. Heat washed through his body, bringing a pleasant, tingling sensation that seemed to be spreading over every inch of him. It was accompanied by a sensation of strength, limbs feeling stronger. The tiger was lost in the whirlwind of bliss that he didn't notice that his suit was starting to grow tighter. New mass was accumulating on his body. His sleeves and the legs of his pants seemed to be clinging to more cat than there had been moments before.

A sigh of relief finally spilled from the scientist’s lips. Shere Khan was getting bigger, things were looking hopeful. He hadn’t even entertained the thought of success. This could get him published!

Of course the tiger wasn't privy to any such thoughts, his mind enraptured by the ecstasy he was in. Seams began to strain, buttons creaking from the pressure behind them. However the issue quickly became where the most pressure was building. The perfectly tailored pants that were struggling to house Shere Khan gave way across his rear first, splitting down the middle. The tiger had put on mass, but what had at first been solid was now being overrun by lush fat. A widening tear over his rump revealed stretching red fabric of a speedo that was trying to contain heavy, jiggling fat. The CEO of Khan Industries was oblivious as his behind poured from his pants, speedo struggling as adipose peeked free, the seams on the legging of his pants starting to pop one by one shortly after.

Of course his captive audience of one was balking at the sight. The serum was meant to increase mass after all, and there had been a few corners cut to make the deadline, but this was exceeding any previous calculations. Hoping to be published was no longer a thought in his head, at this rate, he'd be lucky to keep his doctorate.

Shere Khan was still growing, his thighs pushing free of his pants, growing wider and doughier, his stance widening to manage their growing mass. His calves and ankles merged as a roll of fat built up just above his paws, even those appeared to be chubby. His burgeoning rump only helped complete the scene as it dipped lower and lower, more of his speedo being devoured by the swelling fat.

Out of sight of the otter buttons began popping off the front of his suit, pinging off the top of his desk. The jacket finally opened as his undershirt pushed free, clinging to a belly that quickly came to rest on top of the mogul’s desk. It seemed intent on rushing to match his rear, shirt riding up as the white mass of fat jostled around, gurgling softly. Two firm pectorals were beginning to sag and stretch his shirt as the tiger’s claws dug into the desk, peeling up strips of wood as his fingers dragged across it.

More pops and rips echoed in the room as sleeves began shredding over top of arms that were morphing from toned to tubby. As the fabric ripped away the otter could see the stripes on the tiger warping and stretching, drawn apart as his body grew softer. His jacket was reduced to tatters in a matter of moments, leaving just his undershirt clinging for dear life. The roiling mass of his gut was spread over a full half of his desk. The only thing keeping his newly engorged chest from sagging down atop his belly was the increasingly strained undershirt, it had ridden up so high it was little more than a bra. When those heavy sacks of fat pushed to the size of watermelons the fabric finally gave out, sending a cascade of adipose tumbling down.

The entire time Shere Khan’s face had been a mask of pleasure, the corporate cat lost in an ocean of pleasant tingling that had surrounded him. It was almost as though he was insulated from the outside world. His face wasn’t spared though, his strong muzzle growing wider and more plush. Both cheeks had puffed out, giving the feline an almost chipmunk-like appearance. A trio of chins had combined in a thick tire of fat that swaddled the tiger’s neck, looking almost like a pillow had been settled under his head.

His back was a mural of stretched stripes, drawn wide by his nearly attained girth. Dense rolls accumulated at his sides, a muffin top only prevented from draping down by his gut resting atop his desk, covering a full three-fourths of the wood, fat spilling against his swollen forearms, claws still dug into the wood. The speedo that had struggled to contain him had almost been entirely devoured by his fat, only small strips of the fabric visible.

Letting out a soft whimper the otter clamped his hands over his ears. His boss was well over twice the tiger he was when he entered the office earlier that day. This had to be a nightmare, one he'd surely wake up from before the inevitable end where the tiger turned his fury on him.

The bubble of bliss that Shere Khan was enjoying didn't pop until the swollen mass of his belly let out a deep, rumbling growl. Eyes snapping open the tiger became aware that something encroached on his field of vision, his own cheeks as it were. Looking down slowly his pupils went wide as the vast expanse of his belly quivered upon his desk, his plump breasts spilling down on top of the gurgling cauldron of fat. It let out another growl as a pang of hunger shot through the tiger, making him groan before his brow began to knit. Turning as quickly as he could, a rather slow, lumbering pace now, his belly slid from the desk. As the apron of fat swung low, past the tiger’s knees, his face twisted into anger as his gaze leveled on the otter in front of him.

“S-sir, there may have been some...unexpected complications,” the otter squeaked out as his trembled like a leaf. Given the sheer difference in mass he was looking more like a twig.

A deep growl began in Shere Khan’s throat as he stepped toward his employee. “I believe I've noticed, doctor! I suggest you explain yourself. Immediately!”

“Mr. K-Khan, this is somewhat of a s-side effect. We've been working for weeks to try and develop what you asked, but it's proven...difficult. Muscle mass is rather hard to build compared to, well...fat. The intent was that by adding some extra weight the serum could in turn use that for fuel to turn to muscle. We...just haven't quite worked out the kinks?” A timid smile crossed the scientist’s face. If this was the end he may as well go out with a smile.

“Well then, doctor, you will be working on fixing said issues from now until they are resolved.”

“Yes, I'll pack my things and...wait, what was that?” Shock was all that registered on his face, jaw dropping. There was no way he shouldn't be fired for this.

Shere Khan had lumbered closer, each step apparently taxing given the tiger was huffing and puffing, belly swaying slowly. One chubby mitt clamped down on the scientist’s shoulder, enough strength in it to keep him rooted. “I said that you will be working to fix this mistake, doctor. I hope that much is now clear.” The tiger’s claws extended and lightly pricked at the otter’s shoulder. “Do not make me repeat myself again.”

“Understood, sir. I'll do my best to try and f-,” he squeaked as pressure was applied by that thick hand.

“Doctor, I insist you do the best of someone better. One failure is not a firing offense. A second will not see such leniency.” The gaze that was locked on the otter was nothing short of scathing. Turning around the tiger began to stalk back to his desk, the broad butt bouncing and wobbling heavily as his thunder thighs rippled on each other. “For now I need to speak with my tailor and perhaps order some lunch,” he groaned as another loud growl came from his stomach.

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A week had passed and the monthly board meeting of Khan Industries was slated to begin in just a few minutes. Department heads, high-powered shareholders, all the bigwigs had gathered. More often than not the meetings were little more than progress reports, but Mr. Khan had insisted that they take place. Nobody ever spoke against the ide, nobody dared to cross the boss.

At least that was normally true, but none had seen the CEO in several days. It wasn't terribly uncommon for him to be busy with one venture or another, but for him to be completely absent was highly unusual. Quiet chatter settled in as the time for the meeting to start came and went, minutes slowly ticking by. In all the years the veterans of the board worked for the company, Shere Khan had never once been behind schedule. The unnerving air continued until the table shook slightly, a sliver of alarm racing through the room until the door to the boardroom opened. Whatever each member of the board had been thinking was quickly wiped away by shock as their eyes fell upon the CEO of Khan Industries.

After the initial growth from testing the serum Shere Khan had immediately seen his private tailor. He trusted that not a word would be spoken regarding his predicament. The rotund cat was swathed in a new suit, the dark blue fabric doing little to hide his body. That may have been due to the fact that he'd put on even more weight since seeing his tailor. His body’s augmentation wasn't simply weight, but an appetite that went with the mass. At first he'd tried to keep himself from eating even a scrap more than he normally would, but his gut constantly roared for more. When he broke and demanded more to eat his intimidating reputation was still enough to cow the few trusted individuals who had served him. Each time it was opening the floodgates, the tiger gorging until he finally felt full. It was that habit that caused his new suit to strain over him, buttons looking ready to give.

It was with luck that the boardroom’s double doors were wide enough for the tiger’s broad hips and positively titanic rump to slip through, scant inches from the doorframe. Each step shook the floor as his barely concealed belly quaked even more than the table. Stopping at the small chair he would have normally taken, he frowned before turning to face the table, his belly spilling onto it. Scanning the board and trying to maintain some air of dignity, he cleared his throat, causing several chins caked atop his flabby build to wobble. “...Gentlemen.” His titanic belly rumbled outrageously, and Khan attempted in vain to hide it under a growl of his own. “What? What? Just what are you all staring at?”

An hour later and enough burgers to sate his bruised ego, the flabby tiger was left brooding in his office, his desk half-buried under his own flab. The doors of his office opened, and an all-too familiar figure sauntered in. “Well, I’ll be…” Baloo the delivery pilot, no svelte bear himself, looked positively rail-thin in comparison.

Shere Khan couldn't stifle the groan that rose in his throat. For years he'd had no problem taking jabs at the bear for his weight, among other things. His chair had been replaced by a small couch that the tiger filled from arm to arm, fat spilling over. The small feast of burgers had caused the bottom of his jacket to pop open, white-furred fat sitting on full display. A chubby hand rose up, pinching the bridge of the feline’s nose. “Hello, Baloo. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

The bear held up a large box, the building’s address plastered over it. “Higher for Hire delivery. Some hoity-toity tailor needed supplies flown in for work. Said he'd pay extra for the suits to be delivered too. Man, guess I know why he needed a box this big for just two suits.” Baloo was grinning broadly as he walked toward the desk, looking over the mound of fat cat.

“Well thank you for such prompt delivery. I can assure you that you may return them...they won't be fitting at this point.” Frowning at his exposed belly the tiger sighed. “Damn thing was louder than me in the boardroom,” he grumbled before another growl rocked his gut.

“Jeez, Khanny, sounds like that thing’s still not done.” The bear chuckled as he set down the box and sank a finger into Shere Khan’s belly.

Grunting in shock the CEO began to growl before it died in his throat, overwhelmed by the rising growl from his belly. “It may not be, but I will not be allowing it to run rampant. If that's all, then good da-”

Baloo smirked as he squeezed a handful of the Khan’s belly, cutting off the tiger. “Aw, c’mon Khan, I'm just poking fun. You've done it to me for years. Besides, no reason to sit here lookin’ miserable and be hungry.”

Lifting an eyebrow Shere Khan stared at the ear in mild disbelief. “And what, pray tell, are you getting at, Baloo?”

“I'm sayin’ you should come out with me and we grab a bite. Uh, your treat, though. Big enough pain covering myself.” Chuckling he patted his own belly as it let out a soft growl.

Before Khan could respond his gut did it for him, the rumbling growl shaking his mass until another button was sent flying off to expose more of him. Looking at himself he bit his lip before glancing st Baloo. “Very well, I suppose that a small bite to eat wouldn't be a problem...or perhaps a full meal.” He idly patted the top of his middle.

Walking around the desk Baloo swung an arm around Shere Khan’s neck, or the tire of fat smothering it. “That's the spirit, man! May as well enjoy things. I know I enjoy a guy with a bit of meat on him.” The bear winked as his free hand patted at the tiger’s side.

Shere Khan flushed before slowly rising from his seat. “I'll keep that in mind. I certainly hope that with our meal you can keep up.” A soft grin pulled at the tiger’s lips. If he was going to be a corporate fat cat then he'd be the top of the food chain. Besides, he had long grown accustomed to throwing his weight around; now there was just more of it to throw.