Part of a trade with  FattyDragonite

---

“Hi there, old lady,” greeted Shu as Obamon opened her door to let him inside. Obamon was a large, brown dragon that towered over the little boy. The two most notable things about her were the frilly pink apron she had on with matching slippers and her incredibly fatty body that was present on her gut, thighs, legs, arms, and even her long tail. She had an old, wrinkled face with gentle, blue eyes with a tiny pair of spectacles, and a pair of spiky ears. Despite being a dragon and a large one at that, she had an incredibly kind aura about her and a heartwarming smile.

“Please,” she told him with a smile on her face. The boy was young, wearing khaki shorts and an aqua t-shirt. He had cobalt, spiky hair and aqua eyes. The look on his face was one of childish innocence and a fair amount of obliviousness too. “Call me, Obamon.”

“Okay, old lady,” he replied as he carried his talispod in his hand. In his other hand was Nezuccho, his Legendz. He had a round, hamster-like body with tiny arms in brown gloves and stubs of feet in navy shoes. He had a nub of a tail and a small pair of white, feathered wings on his back, and blue, wing-like ears. He had a pair of black beady eyes and a brown aviator cap on his had along with a pair of goggles. While the front of his body was all white, the back half and his ears were blue. “Here is who you will be babysitting for a week.”

Nezuccho pouted and turned his head away. “Oh, isn’t he just the cutest little thing that I’ve ever seen,” Obamon stated and gave Nezuccho’s plump gut a gentle rub with one finger. Blushing for a second, he pushed her finger away and snapped at her, though what he said came out as nonsensical chatter. “Oh, my. He seems to be in a bad mood.”

“He is just being crabby cause I’m going on vacation with my parents and the hotel doesn’t allow pets,” he explained. “I was thinking of just letting him take care of himself since he’s pretty responsible, till I met you and you offered to look after him for me. Now he won’t have to be on his own.”

“I’m happy to help,” stated Obamon. “And whenever someone is in need of being taken care of I’ll always appear.”

“Hear that, Nezuccho?” said Shu happily. “You are gonna have a great time!” Folding his arms and looking away, Nezuccho just scoffed.

“He’ll warm up to me in time,” promised Obamon as she held out her arm for Shu to place the little creature into it. “I’m very good at taking care of little ones.”

“And here is his Talispod,” added Shu as he gave that to her too. “Is this all you need to take care of him?”

“This will be plenty,” she nodded. “Anything else I could possibly need is right here in my humble home.” Taking a closer look at the Talispod, she examined it from every which way. “Is there a button to work this thingamajig?”

“All you have to do is hold it up like this,” demonstrated Shu as he held up his arm, pretending he had the Talispod in it.

“Oh, like this?” asked Obamon as she imitated him.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Then you shout out, ‘Return!’ and Nuzuccho will enter the Talispod. You then shout out ‘Release!’ and he will turn into his bigger form, Shiron.”

“That sounds very neat,” smiled Obamon. “I can’t wait to give it a try.”

“And you just say, ‘return’ again to turn him back into Nezuccho,” added Shu. “You only have to do that when he needs to recover his energy.”

“Sounds simple enough,” smiled Obamon. “It’ll be easy to give him the best of care.”

“If you are all set,” stated Shu. “Then I better get going. My parents are waiting for me.”

“Have a fun time dearie,” she waved goodbye to him.

“Take good care of, Nezuccho, old lady,” he called back.

Keeping a big smile on her face, she said, “I will… and it’s Obamon.”


Once Shu was far from sight, and she felt her babysitting job had officially begun, Obamon held up the Talispod and spoke, “Return!” In a gust of wind, Nezuccho was sent onto the top of the Talispod and was no sealed within a crystal. Obamon looked at him within the crystal, seeing he looked a lot more draconic now. “Oh, my, he sure is a handsome one. I can’t wait to meet, Shiron. Release!” In an even greater blast of wind, Shiron erupted forth from the Talispod. Obamon held onto her apron to keep it from getting blown off her body. Peering into the wind storm, she watched to see Shiron inside and as the wind slowed to a halt he become completely visible.

There he stood, resembling how he appeared as Nezuccho with white and blue body. He had his aviator cap on and gloves, but there were far more detailed, looking more like the real thing rather than dress up toys. The gloves were even adorned with jewels. Shiron’s tail was no longer a nub on his behind, but a long, slender tail. His wings were far more elegant and lengthy, easily able to carry him into the air now. They had a pair of golden rings pierced into both of them and around his neck he had a golden ring with runes inscribed into it.

Whereas his body was round and doughy before, it was now slim and covered in powerful muscle. There was a noticeable gut on him, but it still appeared rock hard and tight. He now had visible legs to go along with his feet, now bare and showing off his three toes with sharp, black nails. He also had a long, dragonic neck and head. The look in his eyes was calm as a gentle breeze, but looked like their could turn as fierce as a hurricane if angered. Draped down the back of his neck was wild, golden hair.

“Oh, my aren’t you a cutie,” smiled Obamon as she hugged him tightly. While her weight easily made her wider and heavier than the svelt Wind Dragon, he now towered over her by a few feet. “You are going to have such a fun time here, dearie.”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” he told her, breaking out of her hug and proceeding to the door. “I am glad you summoned me in this form, but I no longer require your services. Shu is a good kid, but I sometimes wonder what goes through his head when he makes decisions like this. I’m certain that you don’t want to be wasting your time with me either so I’ll just come back when he returns to pick me up and he won’t be none the wiser.” Shiron turned to go to the door once more, but Obamon hugged him from behind. “H-Hey!”

“But I want you to stay,” she told him. “I love taking care of my little dearies and a grumpy pants like you definitely looks like he needs Obamon’s special TLC. So just tell your Obamama what you want.”

“The only thing I need right now is a nice breeze to take to the sky with,” he answered.

“You like windy places?” she asked. “That does make sense since you are a Wind Dragon. I can do that.”

“No offense, but I highly doubt that,” retorted Shiron. “Unless you can somehow make this cottage not so low to the ground.”

“Is that all?” she chuckled. “Easy annnnnnnnd… done!”

“Done?” asked Shiron as he opened the door and stepped out. “Done wha- oh!” Shiron’s foot came down outside, but there was no ground for him to step onto. There was nothing but the cottage and seemingly endless sky all around. He hung onto the door to avoid falling.

“Be careful, dearie,” warned Obamon. “That first step is a doozy.”

“No kidding,” panted Shiron looking outside. Despite what he was seeing, he still couldn’t believe it. He then hurried around the inside of the cottage and looked out all the windows to see it was the same in every direction. “This cottage… it’s floating in the air!”

“Not quite,” chuckled Obamon as she waddled over to Shiron. “We’re not floating, we’re flying.”

“Flying?” he questioned her.

“Take a closer look at my cottage and you’ll see,” she added and Shiron poked his head out the window once more. Looking at the sides of the house, she saw it had wings on it with gently roaring engines. He could also see the clouds as they soared past them.

“I guess we really are flying,” he admitted as he pulled his head out and saw Obamon putting on an aviator cap just like his.

“You said you’d feel more comfortable up high,” she smiled as she fit her ears in the holes. “And I’ve never gone flying before so this should be a lot of fun.”

“It’s a nice gesture,” he told her. “And don’t think I’m not grateful, but I still don’t intend to stick around here.”

“Are you going for a fly?” Obamon asked watching him go to the front door once more, this time he didn’t step outside blindly. Instead, he spread his wings and carefully held onto the doorframe as he tried to fit them through.

“Yeah, a fly back home,” he grunts as he did his best to keep from falling out of the cottage. “So, I guess this is goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” waved Obamon, letting him go, though Shiron couldn’t help but feel like she was letting him leave too easily for wanting him to stay so badly. He scratched at his chin, wondering for a moment then proceeded to leap out of the cottage and take flight.

Obamon watched him from the window, waving to him as he soared right beside her plane cottage. He gave her a little smile and wave before speeding up and zoomed ahead of her. “I feel a bit guilty about leaving like this, but I don’t need to be babysat.” He continued to fly forward, pondering what to do now that he was free in the vast, open sky. However, he didn’t fly for very long before something came into view. “It can’t be…” Flying towards it, Shiron was flabbergasted as he saw Obamon’s flying cottage was now in front of him. Moving beside it, he looked into the window trying to make absolutely certain it wasn’t some other elderly dragon lady’s flying cottage.

“Hello there,” waved Obamon from the window. “Are you having fun out there?”

“It is her!” gasped Shiron shaking his head. “But that’s impossible. She can’t have gotten ahead of me in that thing.” Increasing is speed even further, Shiron zoomed ahead of the cottage and vanished from sight once again.

“Oh, he’s certainly a fast one,” giggled Obamon as she kept watching the sky outside and saw as Shiron braked in midair upon seeing her cottage once again. “Hi, again,” she waved and chuckled happily.

Frustrated, but not admitting defeat, Shiron flew forward again, only to find himself behind the cottage. Immediately, he looped around and headed back in the direction he came from. “Let’s see what happens if I do this!” he said attempting to retain his composure, but this time he and the plane cottage were flying towards one another. “Th-then how about this!” Shiron immediately dove straight down. He broke through the cloud coverage only to find the cottage was down there below him as well. Shiron could have attempted to fly straight up, but he didn’t bother. He knew that the result was going to be the same. Instead, he flew back down towards the cottage. Opening his wings to slow his descent, he landed with a mild THUMP! upon the roof and just remained up there.

“Sounds like he didn’t like my little surprise as much as I had hoped,” thought Obamon. “I’ll just have to hope that Mr. Grumpy Pants will just try to relax.” She rubbed at her chins and pondered. “I bet one of my meals will help melt away his frustration. They always do, but I should make him something extra special and delicious. But what?” Waddling into her kitchen, she took out her cookbook and started to flip through the pages. She paused whenever something caught her eye, but she then shook her head and kept moving on. Then, finally, she came upon a page that made her eyes sparkle and she knew without a doubt that she found just the thing to get Shiron’s mouth watering and his waistline growing. “I’ll get to work on it right away and give Shiron a big surprise,” she giggled with delight.


The front door of the cottage opened and Shiron flew in. Walking around, he tried to act aloof, but his stomach grumbled and his face turned red with embarrassment. “Oh? Shiron?” called Obamon hearing his belly gurgle. “Did you enjoy flying around?”

“I did,” he answered, not complaining about the bizarre world out there, but bringing it up tactfully. “And I couldn’t help notice that this place seems to loop in on itself. Can I assume that your house wasn’t the only change you made?”

“I suppose I should have informed you of that too,” she told him. “I am sorry. That was very inconsiderate of me.”

“No need to apologize,” Shiron replied coolly. “I knew you were not ordinary, but not even I could have imagined you could do all this. That, or just how clever you are. You gave me what I wanted, but also got what you wanted. Now, I have all the sky I could want, but nowhere to rest but this cottage of yours.” A smirk spread across Shiron’s face. “It seems this might be fun after all.”

“Then if you’re in the mood for fun,” suggested Obamon. “How about something to eat?”

“Been a while since I’ve had anything to eat,” he admitted and sniffed the air. “And it smells like you’ve got something delicious cooking in the kitchen.” As Shiron continued to inhale the aroma, his saliva started to overflow his maw and run down his chin. He quickly dried his muzzle with is glove. “Oh, excuse me. Seems I’m hungrier than I thought.”

“A belly grumble is music to my ears,” smiled Obamon. “My second favorite sound to hearing my little ones licking their chops and smacking their lips on my food.”

“I am hungry, but I am not your ‘little one,’” he reminded her. “I may not be as wide as you, but I’m clearly taller.”

“Size hardly matters to me in that regard,” smiled Obamon opening her arms to receive a hug. Shiron remained still for a moment as he considered what to do and broke down to accept her hug. “That’s my draggy.”

“Now, about that food,” mentioned Shiron, his hunger almost painful at this point as he terribly yearned to find out if whatever was in the kitchen tasted as good as it smelled.

“It’s right in here,” answered Obamon, leading him into the dining room. “Well, it will be in a second. Just take a seat and it’ll be right in.” Shiron sai in a large wooden chair that proved a perfect fit for a creature of his stature. There was even a hole in the back for his tail to fit through so as not to disturb him as he sat. Obamon left and soon returned with a large bowl (even for the Wind Dragon) and placed it on the table. Piping hot steam rose out of it along with the wonderful aroma that was aggravating his hunger. Shiron leaned forward to get a better look and saw that the bowl was filled with countless wings, soaking in a reddish brown marinade. “I sure hope you like wings.”

“Even if I didn’t,” he commented. “I’m sure I’m going to enjoy these. That smell… it’s like nothing I’ve ever imagined. More of your special talents, I assume.”

“Well, I do know my way around a spatula,” Obamon replied humbly. “But I must admit, that this was my first time attempting this recipe, so they might not be up to my usual standards. I’m sure after a few more attempts then they will truly be scrumptious.”

“Mmm,” mumbled Shiron after picking one of the wings out of the bowl and taking a taste. “Oh, this is scrumptious!” Holding it in his gloved hands, he tore into the succulent meat, the taste mouth wateringly good and making him smile from ear to ear. “All I need now is the right drink and this will be perfect.”

“I hope that cola will suffice,” offered Obamon, taking out a monster-sized bottle and a mug to match. She held them, barely able to keep her arms wrapped around them, as she waited for a response from Shiron.

“That’ll do nicely,” he nodded, taking the bottle of cola while Obamon positioned the mug on the table. Shiron removed the cap and poured the contents in. The foam from the fizz rose up fast as he poured it all the way to the top. He slowed as the foam began to reach up above the rim, but he was too slow and it began to waterfall down the sides of it and onto the table. “Oh, sorry. I made a mess.”

“I can clean it up later,” Obamon smiled at him. “What matters is that you are enjoying yourself, dearie.”

“With food this good,” he admitted bringing a claw coated in the marinade to his maw, he sucked it clean. “How could I not be?”

“Very true,” she agreed and gave a friendly chuckle. “Have all you want and if you’re still hungry, I can always make you more.”

“Mmhmm,” mumbled Shiron as he got to work on the bowl of chicken wings. After a few were reduced to nothing but bones, Shiron grunted as he hefted up his massive drink and brought the rim to his muzzle. Lifting it up and tilting it, the cool contents poured into his mouth and he chugged a couple dozen mawfuls before carefully placing it back onto the table. Looking at the glass, it looked like Shiron hardly made a dent in it, but looking at the bulge in his gut, one would have thought otherwise. Giving it a few pats, it sloshed a bit from all the soda it was holding. Opening his maw, Shiron let out a huge belch. “Uuurrrap! Scuse me.”

“You’re excused, dearie,” called Obamon, busy in the kitchen even while Shiron was still working on his chicken wings. He didn’t seem to realize this though, as he had already returned to feasting on his wings, eating them up quite greedily, despite getting his muzzle and gloves stained with the sauce they were soaked in.


“Uuurrrap!” Shiron belched again as he downed some more cola. He then placed the mug down once more, this time was more ease as the glass was now half full. He gave his belly another pat, making it wobble far more as it bulged big enough to press against the table and hang down just below his waist. As he patted his gut, he covered his belly with claw prints from the marinade that coated his gloves and it was only two of many others that he had gotten during the course of his meal. “Scuse me… again!”

“You’re excused… again,” giggled Obamon. She had excused him for every belched he made during the course of his meal, but this time, after saying it, she waddled into the dining room carrying a bowl as big as the last and the contents smelling even more savory and mouthwatering than the wings before it.

“Oh, what’s that?” asked Shiron practically shoving his head in to inhale the aroma.

“I made you buffalo wings, this time,” she smiled. “I think these came out even better than the chicken wings.”

“That was very thoughtful of you,” smiled Shiron already licking his chops. “But you didn’t have to go through the trouble. After all, I’ve still got all these chicken wings left.” He reached into the bowl to grab another, but as he dunked his hand into the marinade, he discovered there was no more chicken in it. Shiron scraped the bottom of the bowl to make certain of this and finally pulled his hand out. It was dripping with with marinade and he started to suck his digits clean and lick up the marinade from his palm and backhand afterwards.

“Looks like you gobbled them all up,” stated Obamon. “That means you can have these now.”

“I guess I can,” chuckled Shiron, reaching into the new bowl and plucked one out.

“And I made these boneless so you should be able to gobble these up even easier than the wings.”

“Oh, these really are great!” exclaimed Shiron, stuffing his face, not listening to what Obamon was saying. “And they’re boneless too.”

“I figured you would like that,” she laughed. “So, eat up till you’re nice and full, dearie.” She gave Shiron a pat on his back and then sat down to watch him fill his already plenty stuffed gut.

Without bones, Shiron didn’t have to waste the time to tear the meat from the bone of each one. He didn’t have to eat then one at a time either. He grabbed clawfuls of the delicious chunks of meat and stuffed them in his face. The sauce of these was much thicker than what coated the chicken. It also had a tangy, spicy kick to it that added a wonderful pizzazz to the melody of flavor dancing on the dragon’s tastebuds, driving him to devour more and more without pause, save to chug down more of his diminishing soda that he drank a gallon at a time. Obamon sat there watching him binge, amused by his messy muzzle and gooey, saucy claws.


“Ugh,” groaned Shiron after taking the last few gulps of his mug of cola. He placed the empty cup on the table beside the two massive bowls that only contained the flavoring sauces for the wings he had eaten, all of which were stuffed tightly in the dragon’s gut. “I’m stuffed, but good.” He gave his belly a gently rub, but it was far too stuffed to bursting to wobble.

“You certainly are,” agreed Obamon. “And you made quite a mess of yourself in the process. You should just see those sticky claws of yours and that belly and face needs to be washed too.” Despite this sounding like something a nagging mother would say, the tone Obamon said it in sounded more amused rather than irritated.

Looking at his claws, and gut, Shiron saw that he was indeed a mess. He didn’t look at his face, the effort of searching for a mirror too much for him while he was so overly full. He was panting hard just standing there.

“Guess I must have gotten a little carried away with my binging,” he told her.

“It just warms my heart to see someone enjoying my food so much,” Obamon told him back. “You fill me with oodles of joy, dearie. But now, you should get washed up and I can get those cleaned for you too.”

“You mean my gloves?” he asked looked at them and saw that they needed it just as bad as his body did. Gripping at the fingers on the gloves, he pulled them off and handed handed them over to Obamon.

“And your aviator cap too,” she added. “I might as well wash that while I’m at it.”

“Um, usually I prefer to keep it on,” he commented, but suddenly he felt compelled to comply with her. “Just get it done quickly so I can have it after I wash. It’s very important to me.”

“Of course,” promised Obamon. “What’s a flier without his aviator gear. I’ll get this stuff back to you in even better than new condition. You have my word.”

“Glad to hear it,” smiled Shiron. “Now, uh, where’s there washroom?”

“Down the hall to the left,” she instructed him. “And the linen closet is behind the door opposite it.”

“Thanks,” Shiron told her as he made his way over, running his claws over his gut to keep the overly stuffed thing at ease. Upon reaching the washroom and the linen closet, he grabbed a towel out of the later and then made his way over to the shower. Opening the glass door, he entered into the spacious stall and hung his towel on a hook beneath the shower head where it’d avoid getting wet. Turning the knobs, steaming hot water rained down on him, quickly filling the stall and the rest of the washroom. The huge Wind Dragon yawned big, becoming very relaxed as the water seemed to wash away any stress or cares he had. For a while, he just stood there half asleep as his body began drenched and his wings soaked with water cascading down the feathers.

Half an hour later, Shiron emerged from the shower, drying himself off with his towel. He started with his head, working to soak up the water in his hair and then moved onto his face and neck. Next came his arms followed by his chest and gut. As he reached this part, he noticed that his belly didn’t feel as stuffed as it had been after eating, but it still looked big. Rubbing it now, he saw that it had become soft and doughy. Poking a claw into it curiously, he discovered that his normally toned and lean body now possessed a hefty paunch that drooped down slightly below his waist. He also noticed his chest seemed a tad plumper too and when he went to dry his rear, it seemed to have ballooned out some too.

“What in the world did Obamon put in that food?” he wondered as he finished drying off most of his body. Seeing how much weight he put on, he knew he should have been more alarmed, but he felt so at ease he couldn’t seem to even force himself to become angry or upset. In fact, he actually found it amusing to rub and grope at his belly. He even snickered a bit when he shook it and watched it wobble.

“I see someone is having fun,” giggled Obamon as she approached Shiron who suddenly blushed with embarrassment as he was caught playing with his fattened gut.

“Oh, uh, Obamon,” he stuttered. “I didn’t see you there.”

“No need to be shy,” she told him and gave him some belly rubs too. “Belly rubs are very nice.”

“Y-Yeah,” he agreed as he watched her run her claws gently down his belly and then slowly up and onto his chest where a pair of moobs were starting to form. “Oh, did you manage to get my stuff cleaned?”

“I sure did,” she smiled and handed him his aviator cap and gloves. “Here you go dearie.”

Taking his clothes, Shiron put his gloves on first and quickly realized something was different about them. On the outside they looked normal, but inside they were now thicker, stuffed with faux fur. As he slid his claws into them, he discovered they were much more comfortable and warmer too. The same was true for his aviator cap when he checked the inside lining was altered too. “I see you made some changes with them too.”

“I thought this would be a nice gift for you,” she smiled rubbing his gloved claws. Shiron murred a little, unable to deny that they did feel even better than before.

“It certainly was a kind gesture,” he told her. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” she smiled then noticed his wings were still sopping wet and dripping on her floor. “Oh, it seems you aren’t completely dry yet. Need some help?”

“I-If you wouldn’t mind,” he told her and spread his wings out.

“I’d be happy to do anything for you, of course,” she stated and took his towel and began to dry them, being very thorough, but also gentle too. He closed his eyes and let her soak up the water on his one wing and then move onto the other. As she finished that one she then surprised him by picking him up off the ground.

“W-Whoa!” he cried and flailed about some. Opening his eyes, he saw what had happened. “Oh, wow. You certainly are strong.”

“Thanks,” she smiled. “Now, how’s about you go play and I’ll fix you up a little something to eat.”

“I appreciate it,” Shiron said as he looked down at his gut. “But maybe not so much this time. It looks like I put on quite a bit of weight from that last meal alone.”

“I think it looks quite nice on you,” she told him and gave his gut a pat. “Now, you don’t worry about a thing. How about doing some flying?”

“Well, I, uh, sure,” he agreed as she carried him through her cottage. He then noticed that she wasn’t leading him to the front door, but to another room instead. “Uh, where are we going?”

“To the cockpit,” she answered, opening up the door and showed Shiron a room that looked like a flight simulator room. “I thought you might like to fly my ship for a while.”

“I’ve never flown like this before,” he admitted as she sat him down on a comfy seat and adjusted the pilot’s wheel to be placed in front of him. “Are you sure I should?”

“There’s nothing to worry about,” she smiled and gave his cheek a kiss. “Just have fun and if you want a bit more of a challenge, just press the buttons over here and you can get rings to fly through and targets to shoot.”

“Sounds like a game,” commented Shiron as he took the wheel and tilted it forward, causing the plane to start to dive down and pick up speed. Shiron could feel the g-forces on him as he flew down and as he turned to steady the plane he panted as his entire body shook with excitement as adrenaline coursed through him. “This is actually pretty fun.”

“I thought you’d like it,” Obamon smiled and petted his head. “Now have all the fun you want and I’ll be cooking.”

“Won’t it be hard while the plane is moving about so haphazardly?” he asked her.

“The flying won’t affect things in the other rooms,” she explained. “It’ll be fine. Just have all the fun you want.”

“Heh, I’m sure this will keep me amused, at least, for a little while,” figured Shiron.


Hours flew by as Shiron flew around in Obamon’s cottage. After getting the hang of the controls, he tried out the different features she had mentioned like flying through rings and blasting targets. When he pressed the buttons targets and rings appeared when their respective buttons were pressed and Shiron couldn’t resist the challenge. He flew through countless rings and blasted red and white targets with lasers. There was beeps and flashes of light accompanying anything he accomplished and made his achievements even more exciting. Before he had even realized it, he was hooked on the game.

“Sounds like someone is enjoying themselves,” commented Obamon as she came in with another massive bowl of wings.

“Oh, Obamon,” Shiron replied snapping out of the trance gaming had put on him. “You finished the wings so soon? You really are fast.”

“I am a pretty quick cook,” she bragged, not mentioning how much time actually did go by while he had been on his butt playing. “Care for some wings?”

“You certainly do make the best wings ever,” he admitted. “Uh, but I’ll probably just get messy again if I do.”

“Then let me feed you,” she offered. “This way you can keep playing your game too. Did you beat the high scores yet?”

“Not yet,” he told her, returning his focus to the game. “But I’m getting closer bit by bit. I know I can do it next time.”

“Take as long as you need,” she cooed to him as she fed him the first of hundreds of boneless chicken wings. “Just keep on having fun. That’s the most important thing for my guests to do while they are here.”

“I certainly am having a blast,” he told her as he quickly got back into the zone of playing. When he smelled the wings by his muzzle, he opened his maw for Obamon to stuff inside. He munched them up and swallowed. Seconds later, Obamon had the next mouthful waiting for him and it continued to repeat. To the gaming dragon, Shiron didn’t realize just how many wings he was consuming. With his mind so focused on the game, he was completely unaware as dozens of chicken wings were fed to him in the span of minutes.

“That’s a good boy,” Obamon told Shiron after finishing the bowl and gave his stuffed belly a few pats. “I’ll be right back with some more.”

“That sounds good,” he replied, not turning away from his game as he made a sharp turn to go through the next ring, making his fat gut lean over to the side and nearly throw him off balance. Luckily, he managed to clear the ring and return to flying straight once more. Checking out his score, he saw he was still several thousand points off and continued to play. A short while later, Obamon returned with another bowl of wings, spicy hot and ready to be devoured like the countless ones before them.

“Open wide,” she cooed giving his belly more rubs, feeling it already starting to soften from rapid digestion and add more blubber to his bod. If he wasn’t too heavy to fly yet, it was likely he would be soon. As he gobbled up the bowlful of spicy wings, even for a dragon that proved quite powerful. After a few dozen, Shiron began to pant, his face turning red. Eating a bunch more and Shiron began to break a sweat. By the time he had devoured half the bowl, Shiron was perspiring like crazy, his body soaked with sweat making it glisten and soak into the chair his ample rear was imprinting into.

“Feeling pretty hot,” panted Shiron as he turned his focus from flying onto the sweat dripping from his chins and onto his gut. “Did you turn the heat on?”

“The temperature’s just fine, dearie,” Obamon told him. “Actually, it is pretty chilly since we are so high up in the air.”

“But feels like I’m melting,” he commented. “Look, I’m sweating.”

“We probably just flew through a moist cloud,” suggested Obamon. “Anyway, you are a Wind Dragon so I’m sure you wouldn’t feel a chill from a little breeze anyway. Besides, isn’t it enjoyable to be all toasty warm like this?” Pressing her claws into Shiron’s damp gut, she rubbed and groped it, smiling as she felt the heat radiating from his body. As she kneaded his blubber, Shiron couldn’t help smile and moan a little, enjoying the treatment.

“That’s true,” nodded Shiron, laying back as he took a break from his game to enjoy this. “And this feels very nice too.”

“Glad to hear that,” chuckled Obamon as she gave his cheek a rub. “Just relax and embrace the warmth… love it.”

“Mmhmm,” he nodded closing his eyes and entering a daze. Seeing this, Obamon resumed to feed him with one hand while she continued to rub his belly with her other.

“And this is still but the first day of your stay here,” she whispered to him. “We’ve still got most of the week left for you to enjoy yourself… unless you’d want to go somewhere else.”

“Why would I want to do that?” questioned Shiron. “I’m having a blast here.”

“You don’t know how happy I am to hear that,” Obamon stated happily.


And so, Shiron continued to happily spend the week in Obamon’s flying house, never once wanting or even considering leaving. He spent his days there flying in the cockpit, rather than flying like he normally would. Shiron hadn’t even considered opening his wings to head into the wild blue yonder since he got hooked on the game, though with how his body had grown, it didn’t look like he was flightworthy anymore. Along with playing around, Shiron had spent the vast majority of his time eating. Whether it was while he was playing and had Obamon feed him or he waddled him bulkiness over to a table when it was time for a meal and do it himself. Shiron stuffed himself with so many wings, for a while he even forgot that other kinds of foods existed.

“That’s my big boy,” praised Obamon as she patted his gut and watched it wobble. Shiron’s belly reached down past his knees as he sat down in his wooden chair that creaked against his weight. His chest that had been developing a pair of moobs now had ballooned into a pair that overflowed in his claws. His rear was even larger than Obamon’s now and along with how wide his belly had become, he was not just taller than Obamon but fatter than her too now. Obamon smiled, knowing that fact very well and massaged his love handles to watch him blush and murr. “So, did you get the high score yet, dearie?”

“I did that days ago,” he beamed with pride. “And I beat my own scores several times over too.”

“I should have known you could do it,” she said kissing his cheek. “My big boy is such a great pilot.”

“Don’t say that,” blushed Shiron. “It’s embarrassing.”

“I only say that cause it’s true,” she added and hugged his fat body and nuzzled against his chubby cheeks and blubbery neck. “I hope you had a wonderful time with me this week. It makes me sad that by tomorrow our flight together will be over and you’ll be going back home.”

“I-I’m going to miss you too,” sniffled Shiron, hugging her back just as tightly, his gut pressing and rubbing against her apron clad one. “I don’t know why I thought I wouldn’t enjoy myself here, but this has truly been wonderful.”

“I am a caretaker after all,” stated Obamon bragging a little. “It is my pride and joy to be able to help my little ones truly enjoy themselves to the fullest and seeing the look of happiness on your face and in your eyes makes me wanna cry tears of joy.” Sniffling, Obamon’s eyes started to water a little.

“Don’t cry,” Shiron told her. “Even if they are tears of joy. It is still too early. I’ve still got another day here, after all.”

“You’re right,” smiled Obamon taking off her glasses and drying her face. “I shouldn’t waste our last day together with tears. Not when I have two more wonderful surprises that are finally ready.”

“Two more surprises?” gasped Shiron with childlike wonder in his eyes. “What are they?”

“Just sit here and I’ll bring the first one out,” she told him. “I know you are just going to love them.” Giving his belly a few more pats to make it jiggle like a bowl of jelly, she then hurried into the kitchen, taking one last looked at him as he watched her waddle off. “No peeking now, mister. Cover those eyes of yours.”


“Yes, Obamama,” joked Shiron as he covered his eyes. He didn’t even need his eyes to know what was coming. Just knowing she was going into the kitchen told him that she was getting him more wings to eat. However, even knowing this, his expectations weren’t ready for what was coming to him.


“Open your eyes,” Obamon told him and Shiron did, seeing another big bowl of wings, but they were different from the wings he had been eating before. These were shaped like his wings and rather than being made of meat, they seemed to be chewy candies.

“What are these?” asked Shiron picking one up and looking at it curiously.

“I thought you might like to have something sweet for a change,” smiled Obamon. “Go on, give them a try.” Not needing more encouragement than that, Shiron bit into the one he had in claw and his eyes lit up. He stuffed the rest of the gummy wing into his maw and munched it up before swallowing. Seconds after he did, his body plumped up a slight, but very noticeable amount. “Well, how are they?”

“Delicious!” cheered Shiron before he began stuffing his face with them, clawfuls at a time, his already fat body expanding even more with each swallow. His tush grew rounder and wider by the second. The chair he sat on was too small to contain it all and it started to droop over the sides. His tail, that hadn’t shown much change since he arrived was now starting to get bigger and heavier too as fat was added to it. The hole in the backrest of the chair that his tail fit through was becoming to small as it widened with each passing second. The wood began to crack and groan against it’s increase in size. The legs of the chair were starting to crack as well as Shiron’s weight continued to increase the more he ate. “What kind of wings are these?”

“Since I was inspired by your lovely feathered wings when I made them,” explained Obamon. “I thought I’d call them dragon wings. What do you think?”

“I think I need to eat more dragon wings,” he answered happily before stuffing more into his maw and FWOOMPHING!!! up with more obesity. His gut was so big and flabby that it almost touched the floor. A mound of his gut that rested upon his thick, meaty thighs also would have reached up over the dining room table if not for the bowl of wings resting on it. His arms were almost as lard-filled as his legs, now so thick than any muscle mass from his formerly muscular build was buried.

Shiron’s long neck had kept him from getting a multi chin till now when his new treats fattened him enough to cause a second and then a third chin to appear and hang down and cover over his neck and rest atop his moobs. With how his chins looked, it gave Shiron a more frog-like appearance and it only became more like that with each dragon wing he ate. The only thing that caused Shiron to pause from his current binge was gravity, when his chair finally threw in the towel and the legs snapped like toothpicks under his megaton booty.

“Yeow!” he cried more from shock than injury. “Uh, sorry. I broke your chair. I think I maybe have put on too much weight while I was here.” Bashfully, Shiron patted his gut and felt how thick his blubber was. When he pushed his claws in to see how deep he could go, he was shocked seeing them sink in past his wrists and still not feeling his ribcage.His jaw dropped as he searched for words. “I-I didn’t realize I put on this much weight. I guess I was a lot slimmer before coming here than I thought. I mean, I knew I had a bit of a gut at first, but this… this I just don’t-”

“Don’t worry about it,” shushed Obamon pressing a claw to his lips and gave his plump cheek a kiss. “Don’t worry about such trivial things. A chair can always be replaced. You still have a fair amount more dragon wings left to eat, so just enjoy them and then you’ll be ready for your next surprise. How’s that sound, my chubby lil dearie?”

“W-Wonderful, Obamama,” smiled Shiron saying it more earnestly than before. He then began to nom up the rest of the dragon wings as Obamon rubbed his plumping cheeks gently and occasionally kissed his forehead.

“That’s a good boy,” she praised him and watched him pack on pudge till there was no doubts that he was a big round ball of dragon blubber. When the last of the dragon wings was eaten, Obamon hugged him, finding her houseguest easily three times her size now, if not more. “That’s a very good boy.”

“Heheh, thanks!” cheered Shiron, proving himself still quite strong despite his obesity, as he hugged Obamon tight into his gut and kissed her on the cheek, making her blush for a change. “I love my Obamama! Now what’s my second surprise?”

“Oh, you just want your second surprise, don’t you?” chuckled Obamon as Shiron let her go and covered his eyes. Seeing he wasn’t peeking, Obamon waddled off into another room to get it for him. After a few minutes, she returned and stood before Shiron. “Ok, you can open them.”

Moving his claws aside and opening his eyes, Shiron saw a box covered in shimmering red foil paper and silver stars speckled all over. It had a shiny, green ribbon on it, but it was only made to look like it tied the lid as the ribbon on the lid and the ribbon on the box were not really connected if one took a close enough look. Lifting up the lid, Shiron looked inside and saw something that excited him even more than the dragon wings. “Is this what I think it is?” he gasped excitedly.

“If you think it’s an aviator’s suit,” answered Obamon. “Then you’re right! I made it just for you!”

“Oh, thank you so much!” he cried with excitement and jiggled for joy.

“Heheh, here let me help you into it,” offered Obamon as she helped Shiron onto his feet. Even standing, his gut was close to touching his feet. “You should be a perfect fit for it after putting on this last bit of pudge, but I can also fatten you up a smidge more if need be.”

“I’m sure you could,” giggled Shiron licking his chops looking hopeful to actually be fattened even further.

“First the t-shirt,” instructed Obamon. “Lift your arms straight up.” Shiron did as he was told, raising his arms up and watched as Obamon took a massive, white, sleeveless t-shirt and pulled it down over his head and arms. There were holes in the back for his wings and Shiron expected the rest of the outfit to also have holes in them for his wings and tail as well. The fabric proved impressively durable as it withstood Shiron’s bulk, even when Obamon lifted up his lower gut to stuff it in there. “Now the undershirt next.” Grabbing a thick, wool sweater, Obamon put this one Shiron just as she did with the t-shirt. This fit on him just as well. It was also a lot thicker and warmer than the t-shirt was. The two combined were even enough to keep Shiron’s gut in place. “And now some undies.” Blushing, Shiron lifted up one leg for her to slip the leg through its respective hole and did the same with his other leg. “And some pants.” Obamon helped him into a pair of black sweatpants that matched his sweater. It had ample room in the back to cover over his rear so his butt crack wouldn’t be exposed if he bent over. With what he had on, Shiron could already feel blissfully warm, but the contents of the box weren’t even half empty yet.

“Got me even more than an aviator suit,” commented Shiron, not that he was complaining.

“It’s a whole outfit,” she explained. “It’s meant to make sure you are toasty warm while you are flying.”

“Now that you mention it,” thought Shiron, not currently perspiring from being stuffed full of spicy wings. “I have been feeling rather chilly.”

“Then I’ve best finish bundling you up so you don’t catch a cold,” she smiled and began to fit what looked like a sock for a tail onto his. “Gotta make sure you are covered all over. And now for the top layer.” Grabbing the big, heavy brown jacket, she had Shiron spread his arms and slip it onto him from behind. Then, walking around to his front, she zipped it up and then snapped all his buttons on it. Following this, came on a matching pair of pants on it, that she helped on him. There was a zipper and a set of buttons connecting the top of the pants to the bottom of the jacket and Obamon secured them as well. Next came a thick pair of wool socks that Obamon slipped onto Shiron’s feet, followed by a thick, fluff-filled pair of boots that looked like something eskimos would wear.

“How do I look?” asked Shiron once Obamon tied the laces on his shoes.

“You look adorable, but we’re not quite done yet, dearie,” she told him as she stood up and pulled a hood over top of his aviator cap, then a second one. There was a third hood as well, but she left that one down. “Three hoods in one to provide you with extra warmth. Two should be enough for now, but you can pull that one up if you need some extra insulation.”

“You really think of everything,” giggled Shiron.

“I try to anyway,” smiled Obamon as she began wrapping scarves around Shiron’s chins, covering over his shoulders and most of his face, save for a bit of space for his eyes. “And there you are. How does this feel?”

“Really warm and comfy,” he answered already starting to sweat.

“Glad to hear it dearie,” Obamon stated and hugged him. “It suits you.”

“I think so too,” murred Shiron reveling in the increasing warmth he was feeling as he began to pant.


“I hope he wasn’t too much trouble,” Shu said the next day as he came to Obamon’s cottage (once more on the ground and flightless) to pick up Shiron.

“He wasn’t any trouble at all,” Obamon assured him, showing Shu Nezuccho fast asleep in her arms. “The poor little guy was looking a bit weary, so I returned him to this form so he could recover his strength.”

“Oh, and you gave him a little jacket to go with his little gloves and goggles,” noticed Shu. “I bet he liked that.”

“It certainly made him happy,” she nodded and carefully handed Shu Nezuccho along with his Talispod. “He fell asleep a bit before you arrived, so he should probably rest for a while longer.”

“Okay,” agreed Shu as he took Nuzuccho and almost dropped him. “Whoa! Feels like he put on a few pounds. I don’t think he was this heavy when I left him here.”

“I may have spoiled him with one too many sweets,” giggled Obamon. “But he looked so happy that I couldn’t resist.”

“Well, so long as he’s happy,” replied Shu with a smile. “Thanks again, old lady. I’m gonna get going now. Maybe we’ll see each other again someday.”

“I hope we too,” she agreed. “And please call me ‘Obamon.’”

Shu left her cottage and hurried to bring Nezuccho back to his clocktower. When they were far enough away, Obamon’s cottage vanished from sight.


“I think maybe you’ve slept long enough,” decided Shu as he reached the top floor of the clocktower. As he placed his rodent-like friend down and lifted up his Talispod and called out, “Return!” Nezuccho was sucked into the Talispod and transformed into a crystal. “Release!” In a burst of wind, Shiron was summoned forth. He was in midair when he was called out, him, along with his new outfit and the several tons of weight he had put on from his stay at Obamon’s. Seeing the obese Legendz, Shu just stared, speechless and flabbergasted. Yawning, Shiron began to stir from being summoned. Opening his eyes, he saw Shu come into focus.

“Shu?” he asked in a mellow tone. He saw the jaw-dropped look on his face. Shiron was about to ask him what was the matter, but he didn’t get the chance to as he dropped to the floor like a rock. Even though his wings weren’t obstructed, the Wind Dragon was way, way, way too heavy to slow his decent. He dropped crashed to the floor and smashed through it, shaking the entire clocktower in the process. He did it again as he landed on the next floor and broke through and then next and the next till he hit the ground floor.

Shu coughed on all the dust that Shiron upset and fanned it away with one hand while the other covered his mouth to keep him from breathing in any more. “What in the world?” Carefully, making his way down the remains of the stairs, Shu managed to reach the ground floor and Shiron who was moaning as he rubbed his stomach. “Shiron! Are you okay?!?”

“Noooooo,” he groaned achingly. “No. I’m not.”

“What’s wrong?” cried Shu. “What hurts?”

“My stomach,” he answered moaning loudly as his gut gurgled. “So hungry. Want to eat more wings.”

“...What kind?” asked Shu.