
I've been working on a larger Western-themed vore piece with quite a few new characters, and wanted to casually introduce a couple of them with a fun permavore/weight-gain story. Also because I've been in a mood for gluttonous donkey's lately, and this certainly helped sate it.
Oats is convinced by his partner Otis that the best way to hide from the law is to gain weight, so the donkey spends an eventful train ride gorging on food and passengers...
Gaining a Disguise
By: Indi
Outside the train window, there was nothing but endless plains, the grasses waving about in the wind. Some short hills were beyond them, so distant they were shadowy mounds. Eventually it’d transition to canyons and forests, but not for another few hours.
It was pretty to look at for a few minutes, but Oats swiftly grew bored of the repetition. The slim donkey turned from the window to the hare beside him. “So, how long should we take a break before returning to work? Considering how big the last payday was, I feel we could coast along for at least a month, even if we’re not frugal.”
“Or we could do a couple smaller jobs once we’ve arrived, and not have to worry about anything real challenging for even longer,” the hare—Otis—said.
Anyone listening in wouldn’t have been able to guess exactly what the pair did for a living, not with how vague they were. An excessive precaution, considering how empty the train was, but it was a habit. After all, Oats and Otis were outlaws.
Oats shrugged. “The last job wasn’t that challenging. I dare say it was our best one yet.” They’d robbed a stagecoach outside of town, which had turned out to be transporting some cattle baron’s bank deposit. The few minutes of work had made them more than the last half-dozen jobs combined. Oats had taken great pride in the job, mainly because he’d been the one to suggest it.
“True, but it seems like it was our most infamous job, too.” The hare pulled out a rolled up piece of paper and unfurled it towards Oats. It was a wanted poster, sporting an impressively accurate sketch of Oats with his full name below—and a sizable reward.
Oats grabbed the wanted poster, a wide smile on his face. “Guess that rancher didn’t like us taking that donation,” he snickered.
“You mean he didn’t like you taking that donation,” Otis corrected. “There weren’t any posters of me on the board, just you. Which means the only person bounty hunters and the law will be on the look out for is you.”
Oats’ smile faded. He’d forgotten that rather important fact about being wanted. “But I wanted to relax, not spend the whole time watching my back!” The donkey kept his whining to a low whisper.
“And obviously I don’t want to have to worry about getting caught because you do,” Otis said. “But if you change your appearance, then we both won’t have to worry.”
“I don’t think wearing a different hat or putting on glasses is gonna cut it, Otis. Damn sketch almost looks like a photograph.” Oats frowned.
“You’re thinking too...small.” Otis chuckled to himself. “If you really want to throw off the law, all you have to do is gain weight.”
Oats snorted.
“I’m being serious,” Otis insisted. “If you weighed two or three times as much as you do now, then no one would even begin to suspect you were the thin donkey on that poster.”
“I’d be massive! There’s no way I can just...just blimp up like that.” And yet Oats was already imagining what he’d look like. A round gut and wobbly cheeks. A rump that could barely squeeze into pants. Waddling instead of trotting. The thought made him blush, but just a little bit.
“Fine, stay thin then. Enjoy suspecting every casual glance sent your way is someone recognizing you from a wanted poster, eager to make a quick buck on a scrawny donk.”
Otis was right, he would end up that paranoid. He was already slouching some in his seat and paying more attention to who else was in the car. Sure, none of them looked like bounty hunters, but his imagination was winning out over logic. But was getting really fat honestly the only way to gain some peace of mind?
“I mean...ugh, I guess I’ll do it,” Oats relented.
“Great!” Otis was obnoxiously cheerful about his friend getting fat, which made Oats scowl. “With how much you love eating, I didn’t think it’d take much to convince you. Just think of how big your appetite’s gonna get.”
Oats’ face bunched up.
Otis stood up, and motioned towards Oats. “Alright, let’s get started.”
“Right now?” Oats asked. “Can’t we wait until we reach the city?” He’d hoped to have a bit more time to dwell on the situation, or at least appreciate his lithe form while it lasted.
“We can’t waste time, we gotta get you on the hefty path as soon as possible,” Otis insisted.
“Alright, alright,” Oats said, sliding out of his seat.
Otis led the way, walking through a couple more sparse passenger cars until they reached the dining car of the train. Oats sat at a booth, while Otis made the order, chatting away with the plump wolf who was the server. Their conversation went on for quite a while, and at one point Otis pointed towards Oats and smiled, while the wolf merely looked over with curiosity.
When Otis finally sat down, Oats leaned in. “What was that all about?”
“Oh don’t worry about it. I had to come up with a good excuse for why you’re about to stuff yourself silly, so I told the server you’re on your way to the county’s biggest eating contest.” Otis smiled.
“And how much am I apparently going to eat for ‘practice’, Otis?” Oats asked.
“That’s a surprise, future butterball~”
“I’m starting to suspect you’ve been looking for an excuse to fatten me up,” Oats grumbled.
“Well the fatter you are the more filling you are…” Otis giggled at the scowl his friend gave him. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Though I do think you’ll look swell with some extra pudge.”
The server soon arrived with two large pies and a pitcher of milk. He placed all of it in front of Oats, not even pretending Otis would have a single bite.
Oats looked at the desserts, intimidated. “Pies?”
“Duh, you need to eat fattening foods to get fat, and desserts go right to your gut!” Otis said.
The hare had a point. And the pies looked delicious. Finally accepting the reality of his situation, Oats dug in.
The donkey ate at a regular pace to begin with, nibbling at the pies one slice at a time. He’d barely finished three slices when the server returned, placing an entire cake on the table. Oats stopped to stare at it.
“Less ogling, more eating,” Otis said. “If you don’t hurry up this table’s gonna be overflowing with sweets.”
“There’s more?” The pies alone would’ve filled him up, not to mention the cake. How much had Otis ordered for him?
“A lot more. So eat up!” Otis ordered.
Oats began scarfing down the pie nervously. Both pies tasted wonderful, and—despite his initial worries—he didn’t have trouble moving onto the cake one they were gone. By then donuts had arrived, along with cookies. Any time the donkey stopped eating, Otis would shove something into his mouth and chastise him. There would be no breaks, just relentless gorging.
Pies, cakes, donuts, cookies—all washed down with pitchers of milk. Oats felt like he was eating a week’s worth of food in one sitting—an oddly comfortable thought. He was eating too fast to feel full, too fast to even realize how much he was stuffing himself with. All the while his middle was swelling up. It bulged out from under his shirt and pressed against the table, a ball of white and spotted black.
Oats tossed a muffin into his mouth and reached for another, only to find an empty plate. He looked down, surprised, and saw there was nothing left. Nothing but crumbs and an empty pitcher.
“Did I really—uworrrrp—eat it all?” He asked. The sensation of utter fullness was starting to creep in now that he was no longer eating.
“You did! And with barely any encouragement, either. You’re a natural glutton.” Otis looked so damn pleased with himself. “Let’s see what progress you’ve made.”
Otis got up, but Oats didn’t, the donkey wiggling in place while blushing. He needed to be pulled out of his seat, having gotten wedged during the feast. Once standing, Oats’ round belly jiggled in place.
“I feel like I’m gonna pop,” Oats whined.
“Pretty sure I could feed you ten times as much food and you wouldn’t spring a single leak,” Otis said.
“You’d better not!”
“I might have to, since you’ll probably only gain a few measly pounds from all that.” Otis prodded Oats’ gut, making the donkey sway a little. “We need to find you something more fattening—a whole lot more fattening.”
The plump server strolled up to them, his gaze shifting to Oats’ middle frequently. “Um, your receipt, sirs.” He handed a slip of paper to Otis.
Otis looked down the large list of charges, frowning one he reached the total. He shouldn’t have been surprised at the cost of the feast he’d forced Oats to eat, but he wasn’t about to be happy about it. Suddenly an idea came to mind.
“Ya know, Oats can cover this easily,” Otis said, wrapping an arm around the server’s shoulder and pulling him in close.
“But I thought you were—ommph!”
Otis had shoved the server head-first into Oats’ open mouth. Both Oats and the server struggled in confusion. As the wolf’s muzzle pressed against the back of Oats’ throat he was forced to swallow, and once he began he couldn’t stop. Soon his jaws were stretching over the wolf’s shoulders, and he was pinning their arms to their sides to keep them still. Oats glared at Otis as best he could, but the hare was all smiles.
Otis grabbed the wolf by the legs and lifted him off the ground, angling him as high as he could and feeding him to Oats. He watched as the donkey’s belly ballooned in size, wobbling wildly as the wolf was dunked in all the desserts eaten earlier. He could feel Oats resisting to begin with. Gradually, though, the donkey swallowed faster, accepting his plump second course.
Paws vanished into Oats’ maw. “Buh-rrrrrrrrp why’d ya do that!”
“Because people are the most fattening food there is,” Otis said. “Don’t remember you ever complaining about eating anyone before.”
“That’s because I was choosing to eat them, not having them shoved down my gullet.” Oats winced and swayed as the wolf kicked hard from within. He cradled his gut in both hooves to stay balanced.
“It was either eat him, or lose a bunch of our hard-earned money feeding you. You can’t be angry about that.” Otis gave Oats’ shaking middle a pat. “Besides, if you want to be unrecognizable by the time we get off the train, then you’ll need to start treating this place like a buffet.
“Sure, just give me a damn heads-up next time,” Oats mumbled. A smile crept on his face. “Was a tasty wolf, though.”
“Knew you’d like him. Nice and plump—just like you’ll be soon.”
Oats blushed and scowled at once, an increasingly common occurrence. “Just don’t get any ideas.”
“Trust me, they’ll all involve stuffing you, nothing more, nothing less,” Otis teased.
They headed back towards their seats, with Oats slowly waddling behind.
Oats spent the next few hours napping, his bulging belly pressed up against the seats in front of them. The wolf’s protests ceased, replaced by loud, rumbling gurgles as the mess of food within Oats churned, gradually turning into pudge. By the time Oats stirred awake, he was positively plump.
“Getting fat is—braap—tiring.” A bow tie flew out of Oats’ mouth. He quickly kicked it under his seat. He shifted around, grumbling as he realized how uncomfortable his pants felt. They were tight, and digging hard into his waist. The sleeves of his shirt were the same, and a strip of his belly was exposed. No amount of pulling could make the shirt cover it, which only managed to make the donkey look fatter. “Otis, I can’t just eat until I burst out of all my clothes. A fat, nude donkey running around is only gonna attract attention.”
“Might be cute to see,” Otis said, easily poking his friend in the side. “But that just means we need to find you someone big to eat. You’ll get precious pounds and a larger wardrobe. Speaking of which…”
The hare’s gaze shifted up the aisle, and Oats’ followed. A portly deer in a three piece suit was heading their way, frowning hard. His belly jiggled greatly, and the buttons on his suit were clearly strained, as if he’d just finished a large meal. Behind him was a thin fox in the uniform of a butler.
“I can not believe how terrible the service is here!” the deer exclaimed. “First they take forever to bring me my order, then they have the gall to run out of dessert!” The butler was furiously nodding to everything their boss was saying. “I don’t care that one of their servers mysteriously vanished, I expect quality for what I pay for! They should consider themselves lucky I only requested a single complimentary snack as compensation.” His hoof went to his middle, which sloshed and gurgled loudly.
As the deer and fox passed by, Otis heard Oats’ stomach rumbling. He leaned in close to his friend, smiling wide. “Now that’s the size you need to be aiming for. So big and round even I won’t recognize ya.”
“But...but he was huge.” Oats imagined himself waddling around at that size, his cheeks so round they nudged his muzzle.
“Exactly. This plan won’t work if you only put on a couple pounds—you have to blimp up,” Otis said. “And just think of how good you’d look in all the fancy clothes he’s probably got with him. Not to mention the sleeper car we’ll probably inherit once he’s settled into your gut.”
“I get it, I get it. But you’re the one in charge of fattening me up, so you come up with the plan to get him on my menu.” If Otis wanted to feed him so badly, he was going to have to work for it.
“Way ahead of you, tubbo. First we gotta deal with the butler—you’re eating him too, by the way.”
“Of course I am. Who aren’t I eating on this train?” Oats grumbled, trying and failing to not think about the results of such obscene gluttony.
“Me, for starters,” Otis said. “But we’ll get him out of the way, and then when your tank’s empty again we’ll fill it with the richest venison around. Just follow me.”
They headed further back, into the cars with private rooms for the wealthier passengers. Their targets hadn’t gotten too far, as the deer was going at a leisurely pace, frequently stopping to fume directly at his butler. They passed through one car, and into another, finally halting outside a cabin at the very far end. Otis and Oats remained in the previous car, spying on their prey through the window. After another conversation with lots of angry gestures, the deer entered his cabin, and the butler turned around, heading back in the direction of Otis and Oats. They pulled away from the window.
Otis quickly tested the door of the cabin directly next to them, and found it open. Thankfully it wasn’t claimed. “Wait in there, I’ll funnel him to ya,” Otis said. Oats went in, and the door was closed behind him.
Otis had only a few seconds to straighten out his clothes before the butler entered the car. “Oh, sir, just who I was looking for!” Otis said, sounding as much like a nervous employee as he could. “We’re so, so terribly sorry for the fiasco with the food. We absolutely must make up for it!”
The butler stared at Otis, sizing him up. After a few seconds he adjusted a cuff on his uniform and coughed. “Mr. Jacobson is in a particularly sour mood at the moment. If you wish to get back into his good graces, you’ll need to come up an appropriately...fulfilling gift.”
“I assure you, I’ve gotten really good at filling gifts lately. Let me show you.” Otis winked and slid open the door to the cabin. As the butler turned to look inside, he was immediately shoved hard, stumbling into the cabin with a yelp. His fall was softened by Oats’ modest belly. The donkey wrapped his arms around the small fox and smiled, and Otis entered the cabin. The door closed again, a shout from within swiftly muffled by a loud gulp.
Otis straightened the collar of the butler’s uniform, which had proven to be a near perfect fit. “It’s a miracle I was able to pull this thing off the fox before you ate him. For someone claiming to be nervous about getting fat, you certainly couldn’t wait to cram that butler into your belly.”
“I was hungry, that’s—bworrrp—all!” The donkey’s gut was still wobbling weakly, but the loud gurgling was impossible to ignore. He grasped his middle with both hooves and massaged it, blushing. “Ugh, the extra weight’s already making me ravenous. What if I can’t lose the weight later on?”
“Oats, you can’t lose weight as long as that bounty on you still exists and is fresh in everyone’s minds. Could take years for it to go away—so you should just say goodbye to the old, lean you and embrace the pudge. From now on you’re only gaining weight, not losing it~” Otis gave Oats’ belly a firm wobble, making him blush even harder and let out a small whimper.
Oats couldn’t decide whether he felt his friend’s words were a threat or a promise. It’d seemingly only taken a short burst of voracious gluttony to get him wanting more—more food, more prey, more weight. He had a fox stewing in his belly, but he was already thinking about how delicious the fat deer had looked, and how he really, really wanted to see how he tasted. He was frustrated with his gluttonous spiral, and yet also elated.
Otis was right—he was never going to be thin again. Only time would tell if he considered that a good thing or bad.
The deer slammed open the door to his cabin, and left in a huff. He’d sent his butler away a good two hours ago, and hadn’t heard from him since. After an hour he’d decided to eat the butler if they didn’t return with exceptional news. After two, he’d decided to eat them no matter what news they brought back.
The second the deer turned into the hall of the train car, he found his way blocked by a fat donkey. Their shirt was comically small, leaving their doughy middle completely exposed. There were rips down the seams of their pants, as if they’d burst right out of them recently. He didn’t remember seeing them on the train before, but they looked vaguely familiar.
“Out of my way, oaf!” the deer said. “Otherwise you’ll be going on a one-way trip through all four chambers of my stomach.”
“Well I’ve just got the one stomach, but I’m pretty sure it’ll be just as comfy as all of yours.” The donkey licked his lips and took a step forward.
The deer was preparing to charge when something grabbed a hold of his antlers from behind. He felt his head pulled back, and two large cracks echoed through the hall. There was then a hard shove on his back that sent him tumbling into the donkey.
The donkey’s maw opened wide, but the deer narrowly avoided falling right into it. He grappled with his unexpected foe, trying to slip past him and make a run for it. The donkey kept him cornered, though, and he couldn’t avoid the hungry maw forever. He let out a panicked cry when it finally snapped over his head, plunging him into darkness.
Otis watched with glee as Oats began to scarf down his blubbery meal. There wasn’t any hesitation in the donkey anymore. He’d given in to his hunger. Once Oats managed to stretch his jaws over the broad shoulders of the deer, Otis moved in to help, tossing the broken antlers through the open door to the cabin.
Just like with the wolf, he grabbed the deer’s legs and lifted him up. Of course the deer was far heavier than the wolf had been, and Otis was forced to adjust his stance constantly just to keep the hefty prey in check. But the results were worth it. Oats belly was swelling, shaking and stretching as more and more of the deer descended into it. Otis saw his friend swaying some, struggling to remain standing as they were increasingly weighed down by their fat meal. He carefully shifted from holding up the deer’s legs to holding up Oats’ gut, and blushed as he felt how heavy and round it was.
Otis had to gradually back up as Oats’ middle ballooned. He felt the bounce as the deer emptied into the stomach fully. They were guaranteed to become donkey fat at that point—and of course the donkey was guaranteed to be fat in general now.
“Bet this is just a snack for a glutton like you, eh?” Otis said, gently swaying his friend’s belly from side-to-side.
“Is—bworrrrrrp—not!” Oats insisted. His tail was flicking about.
“Well then it will be eventually.” Otis squeezed the sides of Oats’ belly hard. He hadn’t realized how much fun it could be to watch the donkey get fat, and his desire to see Oats get huge only grew with every meal. With his persistent encouragement, Oats was bound to become a glutton permanently. He’d worry about how that might impact their work later.
“Alright, jumbo, let’s get you squeezed into the cabin before people start hearing the gurgles of your gut and investigate.”
Otis slowly guided the engorged donkey forwards, then backwards into the cabin. But rather than lead Oats to a seat, he gave him a playful push. Oats’ eyes widened and he failed his arms. The weight of his belly sent him toppling backwards, and he landed with a belch that shook that whole train car. Groaning, Oats was wedged in between the seats, pinned down by his wobbling middle.
With glee Otis slid atop his friend’s belly, which was more than big enough to relax on thanks to the deer filling it.
“Sorry buddy, but there was no way we’d have both comfortably fit if you were actually sitting in a seat. At least now you’ll double as a cozy bed for the night~” Otis said.
“Not—braaap—cool!” Oats groaned from below. “If you slide in my maw while you’re up there, I’m not coughing you out.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“I would once this deer’s digested and there’s nothing else in reach to eat!” Otis couldn’t quite tell if the donkey was joking or not. Just to be safe, he shimmied a few inches away from the edge.
“Well if you do, then good luck finding someone else willing to bring you tasty, fattening prey. You’d probably starve.” Otis teased.
“Thanks to you I could probably go a year without eating and still be plump,” Oats mumbled.
Slowly the pair fell asleep, soothed by the sounds of digesting deer and the clacking of train tracks.
The train station was bustling. Oats and Otis had been some of the first passengers to leave the train, sneaking off with the deer’s luggage in tow. They found a quieter corner to rest in and plan their next move.
Any time Oats looked at himself, he blushed. His belly was like a ball, soft to the touch and prone to jiggling from any sudden movements. He still remembered what it felt like to be slim, and the abrupt transition to being hefty only made him feel bigger. There wasn’t any way for him to check his weight on the train, but Oats was convinced he’d nearly tripled in size. Of course most of the pounds had come from the deer. The delicious, delicious deer.
Oats squeezed his belly and grinned, fondly remembering how obscenely stuffed he’d been after eating the deer. It was a shame he couldn’t pig out on people that large every day. Well, he could, but he’d end up as an immobile blob in no time if he did, and Oats wasn’t quite ready to go that far.
“Those clothes actually look a little tight on ya. Impressive,” Otis said. The hare was still dressed as the butler.
“No way, they’re fine,” Oats said, tugging down on his vest.
“The gaps between those buttons don’t lie. But don’t worry, we’ll be able to afford you a bigger wardrobe thanks to our generous benefactor. That deer had a nice stash of cash and gold watches. Lotta gold on his canes as well. Maybe we should just start eating people for a living.” Otis’ gaze was firmly on the round middle of his friend.
“Don’t tempt me. Everyone here’s looking like a snack, and I’m
starving.” Oats’ gaze followed a chubby lynx.
“Well, if you ended up immobile you’d probably be uncatchable,” Otis said. “And I doubt that’d be hard to do—we’d just need to find a few more extra large prey to pile those pounds on you.”
Oats gulped. It wasn’t good if Otis was already contemplating what he’d look like bigger. The hare was distressingly skilled at encouraging him to glut.
“Don’t get any ideas! I can’t exactly help ya with heists if I’m too fat to stand let alone squeeze through doors,” Oats insisted.
“Then I’d just bring the heists to you and shove our targets into your maw. I’m sure you’d burp up most of their valuables in the end~” Otis pressed hard into Oats’ gut, feeling the pudge.
Oats blushed and blew air from his nostrils, but didn’t dignify his friend with a response. “Come on, let’s go find a hotel.”
They headed out, the crowd giving Oats a wide berth, which made waddling through much easier. Just outside the station was a board with wanted posters attached, and Oats couldn’t help but check and see if a copy of his own had made it there. He found it near the bottom, snorting at the sketch of the slim him--the old him. Then he noticed the poster beside it. A grin formed on his face, and he tore the poster off.
“Well Otis, looks like I’m not the only infamous one here.” Oats held up the poster, revealing an impressive sketch of the hare, along with the same reward as Oats. “Guess it’s your turn to fatten up now.”
Otis looked displeased. “What? No way!”
“Remember, buddy, we won’t be safe if the law’s looking for ya. My new disguise is useless if I’m seen next to my known, lean accomplice. So either you plump up and join me, or I get rid of a liability and handle breakfast at the same time.” Oats licked his lips, doing his best to loom over his friend. He only sort of wanted to eat the hare, and hoped Otis would just give in and get fat rather than call his bluff.
Otis’ ears flattened. “You know, I’ve always wanted to see how good I look big,” he chuckled, nervously.
Oats wrapped a thick arm around Otis and brought him in close. “Awesome! And thanks to you, I know just how to fatten a person up nice and quick. Hope you don’t mind spending a couple days stuffed non-stop~”
Otis blushed. Being the thin one had been fun while it lasted, but now he was destined to become just as blubbery as Oats was. It’d be worth it in the end...hopefully. As the pair continued towards a hotel, Otis began looking around at everyone they passed, wondering who would make a good first meal of the day.
Oats is convinced by his partner Otis that the best way to hide from the law is to gain weight, so the donkey spends an eventful train ride gorging on food and passengers...
Gaining a Disguise
By: Indi
Outside the train window, there was nothing but endless plains, the grasses waving about in the wind. Some short hills were beyond them, so distant they were shadowy mounds. Eventually it’d transition to canyons and forests, but not for another few hours.
It was pretty to look at for a few minutes, but Oats swiftly grew bored of the repetition. The slim donkey turned from the window to the hare beside him. “So, how long should we take a break before returning to work? Considering how big the last payday was, I feel we could coast along for at least a month, even if we’re not frugal.”
“Or we could do a couple smaller jobs once we’ve arrived, and not have to worry about anything real challenging for even longer,” the hare—Otis—said.
Anyone listening in wouldn’t have been able to guess exactly what the pair did for a living, not with how vague they were. An excessive precaution, considering how empty the train was, but it was a habit. After all, Oats and Otis were outlaws.
Oats shrugged. “The last job wasn’t that challenging. I dare say it was our best one yet.” They’d robbed a stagecoach outside of town, which had turned out to be transporting some cattle baron’s bank deposit. The few minutes of work had made them more than the last half-dozen jobs combined. Oats had taken great pride in the job, mainly because he’d been the one to suggest it.
“True, but it seems like it was our most infamous job, too.” The hare pulled out a rolled up piece of paper and unfurled it towards Oats. It was a wanted poster, sporting an impressively accurate sketch of Oats with his full name below—and a sizable reward.
Oats grabbed the wanted poster, a wide smile on his face. “Guess that rancher didn’t like us taking that donation,” he snickered.
“You mean he didn’t like you taking that donation,” Otis corrected. “There weren’t any posters of me on the board, just you. Which means the only person bounty hunters and the law will be on the look out for is you.”
Oats’ smile faded. He’d forgotten that rather important fact about being wanted. “But I wanted to relax, not spend the whole time watching my back!” The donkey kept his whining to a low whisper.
“And obviously I don’t want to have to worry about getting caught because you do,” Otis said. “But if you change your appearance, then we both won’t have to worry.”
“I don’t think wearing a different hat or putting on glasses is gonna cut it, Otis. Damn sketch almost looks like a photograph.” Oats frowned.
“You’re thinking too...small.” Otis chuckled to himself. “If you really want to throw off the law, all you have to do is gain weight.”
Oats snorted.
“I’m being serious,” Otis insisted. “If you weighed two or three times as much as you do now, then no one would even begin to suspect you were the thin donkey on that poster.”
“I’d be massive! There’s no way I can just...just blimp up like that.” And yet Oats was already imagining what he’d look like. A round gut and wobbly cheeks. A rump that could barely squeeze into pants. Waddling instead of trotting. The thought made him blush, but just a little bit.
“Fine, stay thin then. Enjoy suspecting every casual glance sent your way is someone recognizing you from a wanted poster, eager to make a quick buck on a scrawny donk.”
Otis was right, he would end up that paranoid. He was already slouching some in his seat and paying more attention to who else was in the car. Sure, none of them looked like bounty hunters, but his imagination was winning out over logic. But was getting really fat honestly the only way to gain some peace of mind?
“I mean...ugh, I guess I’ll do it,” Oats relented.
“Great!” Otis was obnoxiously cheerful about his friend getting fat, which made Oats scowl. “With how much you love eating, I didn’t think it’d take much to convince you. Just think of how big your appetite’s gonna get.”
Oats’ face bunched up.
Otis stood up, and motioned towards Oats. “Alright, let’s get started.”
“Right now?” Oats asked. “Can’t we wait until we reach the city?” He’d hoped to have a bit more time to dwell on the situation, or at least appreciate his lithe form while it lasted.
“We can’t waste time, we gotta get you on the hefty path as soon as possible,” Otis insisted.
“Alright, alright,” Oats said, sliding out of his seat.
Otis led the way, walking through a couple more sparse passenger cars until they reached the dining car of the train. Oats sat at a booth, while Otis made the order, chatting away with the plump wolf who was the server. Their conversation went on for quite a while, and at one point Otis pointed towards Oats and smiled, while the wolf merely looked over with curiosity.
When Otis finally sat down, Oats leaned in. “What was that all about?”
“Oh don’t worry about it. I had to come up with a good excuse for why you’re about to stuff yourself silly, so I told the server you’re on your way to the county’s biggest eating contest.” Otis smiled.
“And how much am I apparently going to eat for ‘practice’, Otis?” Oats asked.
“That’s a surprise, future butterball~”
“I’m starting to suspect you’ve been looking for an excuse to fatten me up,” Oats grumbled.
“Well the fatter you are the more filling you are…” Otis giggled at the scowl his friend gave him. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Though I do think you’ll look swell with some extra pudge.”
The server soon arrived with two large pies and a pitcher of milk. He placed all of it in front of Oats, not even pretending Otis would have a single bite.
Oats looked at the desserts, intimidated. “Pies?”
“Duh, you need to eat fattening foods to get fat, and desserts go right to your gut!” Otis said.
The hare had a point. And the pies looked delicious. Finally accepting the reality of his situation, Oats dug in.
The donkey ate at a regular pace to begin with, nibbling at the pies one slice at a time. He’d barely finished three slices when the server returned, placing an entire cake on the table. Oats stopped to stare at it.
“Less ogling, more eating,” Otis said. “If you don’t hurry up this table’s gonna be overflowing with sweets.”
“There’s more?” The pies alone would’ve filled him up, not to mention the cake. How much had Otis ordered for him?
“A lot more. So eat up!” Otis ordered.
Oats began scarfing down the pie nervously. Both pies tasted wonderful, and—despite his initial worries—he didn’t have trouble moving onto the cake one they were gone. By then donuts had arrived, along with cookies. Any time the donkey stopped eating, Otis would shove something into his mouth and chastise him. There would be no breaks, just relentless gorging.
Pies, cakes, donuts, cookies—all washed down with pitchers of milk. Oats felt like he was eating a week’s worth of food in one sitting—an oddly comfortable thought. He was eating too fast to feel full, too fast to even realize how much he was stuffing himself with. All the while his middle was swelling up. It bulged out from under his shirt and pressed against the table, a ball of white and spotted black.
Oats tossed a muffin into his mouth and reached for another, only to find an empty plate. He looked down, surprised, and saw there was nothing left. Nothing but crumbs and an empty pitcher.
“Did I really—uworrrrp—eat it all?” He asked. The sensation of utter fullness was starting to creep in now that he was no longer eating.
“You did! And with barely any encouragement, either. You’re a natural glutton.” Otis looked so damn pleased with himself. “Let’s see what progress you’ve made.”
Otis got up, but Oats didn’t, the donkey wiggling in place while blushing. He needed to be pulled out of his seat, having gotten wedged during the feast. Once standing, Oats’ round belly jiggled in place.
“I feel like I’m gonna pop,” Oats whined.
“Pretty sure I could feed you ten times as much food and you wouldn’t spring a single leak,” Otis said.
“You’d better not!”
“I might have to, since you’ll probably only gain a few measly pounds from all that.” Otis prodded Oats’ gut, making the donkey sway a little. “We need to find you something more fattening—a whole lot more fattening.”
The plump server strolled up to them, his gaze shifting to Oats’ middle frequently. “Um, your receipt, sirs.” He handed a slip of paper to Otis.
Otis looked down the large list of charges, frowning one he reached the total. He shouldn’t have been surprised at the cost of the feast he’d forced Oats to eat, but he wasn’t about to be happy about it. Suddenly an idea came to mind.
“Ya know, Oats can cover this easily,” Otis said, wrapping an arm around the server’s shoulder and pulling him in close.
“But I thought you were—ommph!”
Otis had shoved the server head-first into Oats’ open mouth. Both Oats and the server struggled in confusion. As the wolf’s muzzle pressed against the back of Oats’ throat he was forced to swallow, and once he began he couldn’t stop. Soon his jaws were stretching over the wolf’s shoulders, and he was pinning their arms to their sides to keep them still. Oats glared at Otis as best he could, but the hare was all smiles.
Otis grabbed the wolf by the legs and lifted him off the ground, angling him as high as he could and feeding him to Oats. He watched as the donkey’s belly ballooned in size, wobbling wildly as the wolf was dunked in all the desserts eaten earlier. He could feel Oats resisting to begin with. Gradually, though, the donkey swallowed faster, accepting his plump second course.
Paws vanished into Oats’ maw. “Buh-rrrrrrrrp why’d ya do that!”
“Because people are the most fattening food there is,” Otis said. “Don’t remember you ever complaining about eating anyone before.”
“That’s because I was choosing to eat them, not having them shoved down my gullet.” Oats winced and swayed as the wolf kicked hard from within. He cradled his gut in both hooves to stay balanced.
“It was either eat him, or lose a bunch of our hard-earned money feeding you. You can’t be angry about that.” Otis gave Oats’ shaking middle a pat. “Besides, if you want to be unrecognizable by the time we get off the train, then you’ll need to start treating this place like a buffet.
“Sure, just give me a damn heads-up next time,” Oats mumbled. A smile crept on his face. “Was a tasty wolf, though.”
“Knew you’d like him. Nice and plump—just like you’ll be soon.”
Oats blushed and scowled at once, an increasingly common occurrence. “Just don’t get any ideas.”
“Trust me, they’ll all involve stuffing you, nothing more, nothing less,” Otis teased.
They headed back towards their seats, with Oats slowly waddling behind.
Oats spent the next few hours napping, his bulging belly pressed up against the seats in front of them. The wolf’s protests ceased, replaced by loud, rumbling gurgles as the mess of food within Oats churned, gradually turning into pudge. By the time Oats stirred awake, he was positively plump.
“Getting fat is—braap—tiring.” A bow tie flew out of Oats’ mouth. He quickly kicked it under his seat. He shifted around, grumbling as he realized how uncomfortable his pants felt. They were tight, and digging hard into his waist. The sleeves of his shirt were the same, and a strip of his belly was exposed. No amount of pulling could make the shirt cover it, which only managed to make the donkey look fatter. “Otis, I can’t just eat until I burst out of all my clothes. A fat, nude donkey running around is only gonna attract attention.”
“Might be cute to see,” Otis said, easily poking his friend in the side. “But that just means we need to find you someone big to eat. You’ll get precious pounds and a larger wardrobe. Speaking of which…”
The hare’s gaze shifted up the aisle, and Oats’ followed. A portly deer in a three piece suit was heading their way, frowning hard. His belly jiggled greatly, and the buttons on his suit were clearly strained, as if he’d just finished a large meal. Behind him was a thin fox in the uniform of a butler.
“I can not believe how terrible the service is here!” the deer exclaimed. “First they take forever to bring me my order, then they have the gall to run out of dessert!” The butler was furiously nodding to everything their boss was saying. “I don’t care that one of their servers mysteriously vanished, I expect quality for what I pay for! They should consider themselves lucky I only requested a single complimentary snack as compensation.” His hoof went to his middle, which sloshed and gurgled loudly.
As the deer and fox passed by, Otis heard Oats’ stomach rumbling. He leaned in close to his friend, smiling wide. “Now that’s the size you need to be aiming for. So big and round even I won’t recognize ya.”
“But...but he was huge.” Oats imagined himself waddling around at that size, his cheeks so round they nudged his muzzle.
“Exactly. This plan won’t work if you only put on a couple pounds—you have to blimp up,” Otis said. “And just think of how good you’d look in all the fancy clothes he’s probably got with him. Not to mention the sleeper car we’ll probably inherit once he’s settled into your gut.”
“I get it, I get it. But you’re the one in charge of fattening me up, so you come up with the plan to get him on my menu.” If Otis wanted to feed him so badly, he was going to have to work for it.
“Way ahead of you, tubbo. First we gotta deal with the butler—you’re eating him too, by the way.”
“Of course I am. Who aren’t I eating on this train?” Oats grumbled, trying and failing to not think about the results of such obscene gluttony.
“Me, for starters,” Otis said. “But we’ll get him out of the way, and then when your tank’s empty again we’ll fill it with the richest venison around. Just follow me.”
They headed further back, into the cars with private rooms for the wealthier passengers. Their targets hadn’t gotten too far, as the deer was going at a leisurely pace, frequently stopping to fume directly at his butler. They passed through one car, and into another, finally halting outside a cabin at the very far end. Otis and Oats remained in the previous car, spying on their prey through the window. After another conversation with lots of angry gestures, the deer entered his cabin, and the butler turned around, heading back in the direction of Otis and Oats. They pulled away from the window.
Otis quickly tested the door of the cabin directly next to them, and found it open. Thankfully it wasn’t claimed. “Wait in there, I’ll funnel him to ya,” Otis said. Oats went in, and the door was closed behind him.
Otis had only a few seconds to straighten out his clothes before the butler entered the car. “Oh, sir, just who I was looking for!” Otis said, sounding as much like a nervous employee as he could. “We’re so, so terribly sorry for the fiasco with the food. We absolutely must make up for it!”
The butler stared at Otis, sizing him up. After a few seconds he adjusted a cuff on his uniform and coughed. “Mr. Jacobson is in a particularly sour mood at the moment. If you wish to get back into his good graces, you’ll need to come up an appropriately...fulfilling gift.”
“I assure you, I’ve gotten really good at filling gifts lately. Let me show you.” Otis winked and slid open the door to the cabin. As the butler turned to look inside, he was immediately shoved hard, stumbling into the cabin with a yelp. His fall was softened by Oats’ modest belly. The donkey wrapped his arms around the small fox and smiled, and Otis entered the cabin. The door closed again, a shout from within swiftly muffled by a loud gulp.
Otis straightened the collar of the butler’s uniform, which had proven to be a near perfect fit. “It’s a miracle I was able to pull this thing off the fox before you ate him. For someone claiming to be nervous about getting fat, you certainly couldn’t wait to cram that butler into your belly.”
“I was hungry, that’s—bworrrp—all!” The donkey’s gut was still wobbling weakly, but the loud gurgling was impossible to ignore. He grasped his middle with both hooves and massaged it, blushing. “Ugh, the extra weight’s already making me ravenous. What if I can’t lose the weight later on?”
“Oats, you can’t lose weight as long as that bounty on you still exists and is fresh in everyone’s minds. Could take years for it to go away—so you should just say goodbye to the old, lean you and embrace the pudge. From now on you’re only gaining weight, not losing it~” Otis gave Oats’ belly a firm wobble, making him blush even harder and let out a small whimper.
Oats couldn’t decide whether he felt his friend’s words were a threat or a promise. It’d seemingly only taken a short burst of voracious gluttony to get him wanting more—more food, more prey, more weight. He had a fox stewing in his belly, but he was already thinking about how delicious the fat deer had looked, and how he really, really wanted to see how he tasted. He was frustrated with his gluttonous spiral, and yet also elated.
Otis was right—he was never going to be thin again. Only time would tell if he considered that a good thing or bad.
The deer slammed open the door to his cabin, and left in a huff. He’d sent his butler away a good two hours ago, and hadn’t heard from him since. After an hour he’d decided to eat the butler if they didn’t return with exceptional news. After two, he’d decided to eat them no matter what news they brought back.
The second the deer turned into the hall of the train car, he found his way blocked by a fat donkey. Their shirt was comically small, leaving their doughy middle completely exposed. There were rips down the seams of their pants, as if they’d burst right out of them recently. He didn’t remember seeing them on the train before, but they looked vaguely familiar.
“Out of my way, oaf!” the deer said. “Otherwise you’ll be going on a one-way trip through all four chambers of my stomach.”
“Well I’ve just got the one stomach, but I’m pretty sure it’ll be just as comfy as all of yours.” The donkey licked his lips and took a step forward.
The deer was preparing to charge when something grabbed a hold of his antlers from behind. He felt his head pulled back, and two large cracks echoed through the hall. There was then a hard shove on his back that sent him tumbling into the donkey.
The donkey’s maw opened wide, but the deer narrowly avoided falling right into it. He grappled with his unexpected foe, trying to slip past him and make a run for it. The donkey kept him cornered, though, and he couldn’t avoid the hungry maw forever. He let out a panicked cry when it finally snapped over his head, plunging him into darkness.
Otis watched with glee as Oats began to scarf down his blubbery meal. There wasn’t any hesitation in the donkey anymore. He’d given in to his hunger. Once Oats managed to stretch his jaws over the broad shoulders of the deer, Otis moved in to help, tossing the broken antlers through the open door to the cabin.
Just like with the wolf, he grabbed the deer’s legs and lifted him up. Of course the deer was far heavier than the wolf had been, and Otis was forced to adjust his stance constantly just to keep the hefty prey in check. But the results were worth it. Oats belly was swelling, shaking and stretching as more and more of the deer descended into it. Otis saw his friend swaying some, struggling to remain standing as they were increasingly weighed down by their fat meal. He carefully shifted from holding up the deer’s legs to holding up Oats’ gut, and blushed as he felt how heavy and round it was.
Otis had to gradually back up as Oats’ middle ballooned. He felt the bounce as the deer emptied into the stomach fully. They were guaranteed to become donkey fat at that point—and of course the donkey was guaranteed to be fat in general now.
“Bet this is just a snack for a glutton like you, eh?” Otis said, gently swaying his friend’s belly from side-to-side.
“Is—bworrrrrrp—not!” Oats insisted. His tail was flicking about.
“Well then it will be eventually.” Otis squeezed the sides of Oats’ belly hard. He hadn’t realized how much fun it could be to watch the donkey get fat, and his desire to see Oats get huge only grew with every meal. With his persistent encouragement, Oats was bound to become a glutton permanently. He’d worry about how that might impact their work later.
“Alright, jumbo, let’s get you squeezed into the cabin before people start hearing the gurgles of your gut and investigate.”
Otis slowly guided the engorged donkey forwards, then backwards into the cabin. But rather than lead Oats to a seat, he gave him a playful push. Oats’ eyes widened and he failed his arms. The weight of his belly sent him toppling backwards, and he landed with a belch that shook that whole train car. Groaning, Oats was wedged in between the seats, pinned down by his wobbling middle.
With glee Otis slid atop his friend’s belly, which was more than big enough to relax on thanks to the deer filling it.
“Sorry buddy, but there was no way we’d have both comfortably fit if you were actually sitting in a seat. At least now you’ll double as a cozy bed for the night~” Otis said.
“Not—braaap—cool!” Oats groaned from below. “If you slide in my maw while you’re up there, I’m not coughing you out.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“I would once this deer’s digested and there’s nothing else in reach to eat!” Otis couldn’t quite tell if the donkey was joking or not. Just to be safe, he shimmied a few inches away from the edge.
“Well if you do, then good luck finding someone else willing to bring you tasty, fattening prey. You’d probably starve.” Otis teased.
“Thanks to you I could probably go a year without eating and still be plump,” Oats mumbled.
Slowly the pair fell asleep, soothed by the sounds of digesting deer and the clacking of train tracks.
The train station was bustling. Oats and Otis had been some of the first passengers to leave the train, sneaking off with the deer’s luggage in tow. They found a quieter corner to rest in and plan their next move.
Any time Oats looked at himself, he blushed. His belly was like a ball, soft to the touch and prone to jiggling from any sudden movements. He still remembered what it felt like to be slim, and the abrupt transition to being hefty only made him feel bigger. There wasn’t any way for him to check his weight on the train, but Oats was convinced he’d nearly tripled in size. Of course most of the pounds had come from the deer. The delicious, delicious deer.
Oats squeezed his belly and grinned, fondly remembering how obscenely stuffed he’d been after eating the deer. It was a shame he couldn’t pig out on people that large every day. Well, he could, but he’d end up as an immobile blob in no time if he did, and Oats wasn’t quite ready to go that far.
“Those clothes actually look a little tight on ya. Impressive,” Otis said. The hare was still dressed as the butler.
“No way, they’re fine,” Oats said, tugging down on his vest.
“The gaps between those buttons don’t lie. But don’t worry, we’ll be able to afford you a bigger wardrobe thanks to our generous benefactor. That deer had a nice stash of cash and gold watches. Lotta gold on his canes as well. Maybe we should just start eating people for a living.” Otis’ gaze was firmly on the round middle of his friend.
“Don’t tempt me. Everyone here’s looking like a snack, and I’m
starving.” Oats’ gaze followed a chubby lynx.
“Well, if you ended up immobile you’d probably be uncatchable,” Otis said. “And I doubt that’d be hard to do—we’d just need to find a few more extra large prey to pile those pounds on you.”
Oats gulped. It wasn’t good if Otis was already contemplating what he’d look like bigger. The hare was distressingly skilled at encouraging him to glut.
“Don’t get any ideas! I can’t exactly help ya with heists if I’m too fat to stand let alone squeeze through doors,” Oats insisted.
“Then I’d just bring the heists to you and shove our targets into your maw. I’m sure you’d burp up most of their valuables in the end~” Otis pressed hard into Oats’ gut, feeling the pudge.
Oats blushed and blew air from his nostrils, but didn’t dignify his friend with a response. “Come on, let’s go find a hotel.”
They headed out, the crowd giving Oats a wide berth, which made waddling through much easier. Just outside the station was a board with wanted posters attached, and Oats couldn’t help but check and see if a copy of his own had made it there. He found it near the bottom, snorting at the sketch of the slim him--the old him. Then he noticed the poster beside it. A grin formed on his face, and he tore the poster off.
“Well Otis, looks like I’m not the only infamous one here.” Oats held up the poster, revealing an impressive sketch of the hare, along with the same reward as Oats. “Guess it’s your turn to fatten up now.”
Otis looked displeased. “What? No way!”
“Remember, buddy, we won’t be safe if the law’s looking for ya. My new disguise is useless if I’m seen next to my known, lean accomplice. So either you plump up and join me, or I get rid of a liability and handle breakfast at the same time.” Oats licked his lips, doing his best to loom over his friend. He only sort of wanted to eat the hare, and hoped Otis would just give in and get fat rather than call his bluff.
Otis’ ears flattened. “You know, I’ve always wanted to see how good I look big,” he chuckled, nervously.
Oats wrapped a thick arm around Otis and brought him in close. “Awesome! And thanks to you, I know just how to fatten a person up nice and quick. Hope you don’t mind spending a couple days stuffed non-stop~”
Otis blushed. Being the thin one had been fun while it lasted, but now he was destined to become just as blubbery as Oats was. It’d be worth it in the end...hopefully. As the pair continued towards a hotel, Otis began looking around at everyone they passed, wondering who would make a good first meal of the day.
Category Story / Vore
Species Donkey / Mule
Size 100 x 100px
File Size 87.7 kB
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