FA+
Shop
6094
Views
Views
119
Favorites
Favorites
Category
Story / Fat Furs
Species Eastern Dragon
Size 120 x 120
File Size 532.6 kB
Report this content
More from The_Bromodo
Listed in Folders
I don't have an excuse for this, Dragon King is just my obsession and I love him so much. And what do I do with the things I love? Torture them, of course, in this case with Dragon King languishing in his recent defeat and the absolute destruction of his plans. With his subjects having abandoned him, he's stuck sulking and eating from the enormous amount of ice cream he had stockpiled for the victory feast he had planned. But his impatience getting the better of him, he decides to feed right from the source and learns of an unfortunate fail-safe his ice cream pipe had included.
Netflix The Monkey King is © Netflix.
Word Count: 2463
Dragon King's Just Desserts
It had been a week since Monkey King had been imprisoned under the mountain by Buddha, and life has returned to normal on the land. But below the sea, in a dimly lit palace, things weren’t as great as a mournful voice punctuated the silence and emptiness. “For years, this un-phibian demon’s slurp been rehearsing a scheme chomp, now stand back SMACK cause I’m gonna mmph perform it uuurrpppp!”
Dragon King sighed loudly as he lay on his lounging chair, a spoonful of ice cream shovelled into his mouth as his belch bubbles drifted up. “And nobody will deny my power gulp when I mmm take the world by storm!” he sang wearily, melting into the furniture as he shovelled in another scoop of ice cream, and winced. “Ugh, why did I think peach was a good idea?” he grumbled.
It seemed clever at the time, obviously, when he thought how ironic it would be that his victory feast would include a generous amount of peach-flavoured ice cream as the dessert. It was a show of modesty really, to show he had gotten over the snafu with the peach grove. But now it left a bitter taste in the dragon’s mouth, not that he had much choice really. All his servants were gone, either fled during his fight with Monkey King, or after he had eaten a few in a fit of rage. Now he was alone; all alone. Well, alone only if you discounted a hundred tonnes of peach ice cream; that wasn’t leaving him any time soon. And he could swear he was getting a little chubby, but it was hard to tell when he wasn’t over a hundred feet tall and filled with a thousand gallons of water. “That damn monkey” he seethed, putting his dessert cup down so a feeder hose could re-fill it.
He shoved a heaped spoonful into his gob, and sighed again. He had been doing that a lot lately, which is typically the expected reaction when countless years of planning gets blown up in the span of ten minutes. Really, it was a blessing he hadn’t gone for something harder, like a treacle-based dessert. That stuff will mess, you, up! “Accursed human girl” Dragon King mumbled into the ice cream, his snoot slurping up the contents of the cup.
Sighing again, the dragon’s tail beat irritably as he looked at his worthless machine, now useless without the Column to power it. “Oh Stick, I treated you good for so many years, how could you have betrayed me?” he lamented.
He had loved and cherished Stick for so many years, making sure it was primed and ready for his grandest performance yet. But nooooo, Stick had to run off with that simian hussy and leave him all alone! Speaking of alone, his worthless advisors were absolutely nowhere to be seen, which was just as well, really. Cause for the crime of letting the Monkey King steal Stick, again, they would’ve been his next meal instead of all this accursed ice cream. “Why did I get so much ice cream?!”
An obvious answer, given how a kaiju of his stature was going to need a vast and filling meal once he had drowned the entire world. Unfortunately the main course was all needed to give him the energy to return to his full form, leaving, of course, the interminable amount of ice cream to comfort him after he had no more subjects to eat. If he still had any, maybe they’d tell him to stop eating so much dessert; though in hindsight, that’d probably get them eaten. Dragon King rubbed at his temples, working through an ice cream headache as he stared at his empty dessert cup, and to the hose that’d been filling it up time after time after time after time. “I should’ve filled it with clam chowder or something” the dragon seethed, before staring at the cup again.
Really taking it in such small portions was so time consuming, especially when he could just tip it into his ravenous maw in just one go, so why not…? “Oh well, who do I even have left to impress anymore?” he shrugged and grabbed the hose.
Sticking it into his mouth, he waited patiently for an influx of ice cream, only for a warning siren to sound. “ALERT. NEW RECEPTICLE FOUND! BEGINNING STORAGE TRANSFER!”
“Tranfther?” Dragon King whimpered, before a clamp sprung out of the hose and bound his mouth shut.
“BEGINNING TRANSFER!”
The dragon struggled with the hose (and his hubris) as lumps ran through the pipe, the sickening taste of peach bulging his cheeks out as he refused to swallow. But there was only so much elasticity in them as they swelled up, before he gave in and swallowed. “Why did I choose PEACH?!” he lamented, forcefully gulping down the sickly dessert.
The single bulges began merging together as the flow increased, and Dragon King was starting to feel the weight of his pride bear down upon him; or maybe that was all those gallons of ice cream, it’s hard to tell sometimes. What wasn’t hard to tell was the impact being made on his waistline, which for a noodle like him started at the bottom, and was working its way up. Or perhaps it was down, actually, as his lower body filled up as if a hose was turned on; a technically true statement, actually. Needless to say the dragon’s lower half was packing on the pounds, his scaly hide stretching rather nicely as his belly inflated by second. And even amongst the water it was impossible to miss the sound of all that warm goo blorping about inside him as he expanded in thick, glorping bulges. Already he looked as if he had stuffed a bean bag in his lower body, his hefty gut already sagging from the weight building up, with his skinny thighs bulging as they merged with the heft. His stomach bounced visibly with every forced gulp from the hose, adding more and more to his lower body as Dragon King fought to get the clamp off him. Swimming about awkwardly in a bid to stretch it out, the dragon was horrified to find him sinking quickly, weighed down by the anchor that was his dessert. For no sooner had he risen up had he fallen, his squishy body impacting the stage and spreading his belly across the floor, while his thighs broadened from all the extra mass he was accumulating. In some weird way, he was almost glad that apparently his ability to absorb water apparently applied to any fluid… possibly.
But he couldn’t indulge when his tail thickened with extra mass, and the surge of whatever this was, ice cream or fat, was starting to build upwards to the rest of him. The bottom-heavy dragon struggled to even waddle as he desperately searched for some kind of shut off to this damn pump! Why did he even think a pump was a good idea?! Ugh, it was probably Benbo’s stupid idea; it would’ve been just like him to screw up like this. Dragon King huffed through the hose, feeling very weary from the weight keeping him down, making it so hard to move. His small feet were having so much trouble moving the rest of him, and the rug burn from his blobby thighs rubbing against the inflating mass of his belly wasn’t helping. He’d be panting like a dog if circumstance had allowed it, but unfortunately the hose was pumping greater volumes into him, no doubt sensing “an even bigger receptacle” for the ice cream. WHY DID HE CHOOSE PEACH?! Dragon King grimaced as he felt at his ballooning lower body, his scales wobbling as the ice cream steadily melted into liquid cream, and then, he feared, into something no amount of kegels was going to save him from. His kingly robes were also getting a little tight, especially around the sash that was apparently all that stood against looking like a tube of goo. He actually prayed it would hold, as looking like a stress ball getting squeezed truly seemed better than the alternative. Grunting loudly, he bit hard on the hose, struggling with all his might to maybe break it off. “COMMAND ACCEPTED! TRIPLING OUTPUT!”
“Wha?” the dragon mumbled, his eyes crossing on the massive lump surging through the hose and rushing right towards him.
Struggling even harder, Dragon King’s cheeks bloated with ice cream, his throat opening up fully to allow it all down his oesophagus. His lower body bulged and rippled with every pump, every forceful piping of ice cream he was forced to devour. And very quickly his feet left the ground, rising up on the swelling mound of scales that was his lower belly and thickening tail. The dragon winced as his thighs bulged, a thick ring forming over his smaller calves as, at this point, he could only accept his fate. Subtle bulges spread through his upper body, still clad in his gorgeous robes that held only under the power of his stubborn sash. But the fabric was weakening, much like a cork does in a bottle that had been vigorously shaken. Try as it might it could only hold back the tides for so long, but the lower hem was already straining around a lower body five times larger than his own torso, and it could only hold for so long. A thread slowly began to unwind, whipping through the belt until the simple force of mass launched it off, and lo did the dam burst. It was practically instant for the excess weight to add to his upper body, his chest already forming squishy moobs and his skinny arms rapidly filling up his billowing bell sleeves. It was like his growth before all over again, only much heavier, and flabbier. The cool ice cream could only stay ice cream for so long, and Dragon King could sense his BMI rising. “Curse you Benbo you idiot!”
And the bigger and bulkier the dragon got, the faster the ice cream came, inflating Dragon King with gallons up gallons of fattening goop. His majestic robe was fast coming apart, torn to bits by his stretching blue scales blorping through. A bulge of neck flab pushed back against his high rise neck collar, while his moobs split apart the front like they were opening the gates to welcome home the troops. The dragon was a bloating mess, fattened up by an impossible amount of hose-fed ice cream, with so much more to go. He was so exhausted, his energy spent having tried so hard to move his heavy body, and now all the rest was directed on making use of all that damn sugary goop. It wasn’t even frozen anymore, it was more like yoghurt now; he felt like yoghurt too, from how much he jiggled and wobbled. His robe was in utter ruins now, little more than a few stray tatters clinging to the corpulent king, and soon they were lost in the flood as his widening rear dominated his stage. Not only getting wider but taller, Dragon King was like a water balloon demanding to be filled, his belly groaning from the abuse it was taking. But the clamp was still firmly gripping his muzzle; the grip only barely slacking to allow the increased surge of fattening cream. The dragon had no choice but to take it, his tremendous bulk spreading out until his flabby rear was pouring over the back of the stage, and his sunken, swollen feet were dangling over the other side. His heavy arms could barely even move anymore, the pressure of so much fat only able to keep them resting on the cliffside that was his immense gut, which was now the star of the stage given it was taking up most of it!
Dragon King continued to pitifully gulp down his just desserts, his mass expanding faster and faster in time with the gallons of ice cream he was forced to consume. Immortal Ones above he was so utterly sick of peach, and once he got out of this he would ban peaches from his kingdom. Of course, getting out of this was the tricky part as the bloated, jiggling Dragon King was finding space something of a commodity, as his ballroom was getting a bit on the snug side. His blubber was spilling over the stage in a wave, filling up the pit between it and the seating along the wall; a wall that was getting too close for comfort even from his throne of blubbery neck fat. Dragon King gulped in fear, pulling in a lot more goop as his head was nearing the ceiling, and he was finding his position a little precarious as his jiggly, jell-o mould-like form was finding it hard to balance itself. Swaying about, the dragon found his butt giving out, anchored by his thick tail curling in the pit and pulling him under. Hitting the wall hard, Dragon King’s eyes widened as his tsunami of a belly billowed over him, weighing him down as it went to snuff out the light. Rising higher and higher and higher, a fold gave way, his gut squishing against his face as the last of the space was taken up by him. His blob-like body had engulfed the entire ballroom, with a tuck of gut pressing into the hole normally reserved for the Column. The dragon whimpered pathetically as he could feel every door way, every exit, every window filling with his magnificent corpulence. Normally he wasn’t opposed to be on the large side, but typically he preferred to be OUTSIDE when he was doing it. He was trapped, pinned by his own mountainous belly. The irony of being imprisoned by a mountain, of course, not exactly lost on him. “RECEPTICLE FILLED! RELEASING CLAMP!”
The hose fell from Dragon King’s squished muzzle, which blorped back into shape with a vigorous jostle. He was quiet, thoughtful amidst the endless grumbling of his stomach, his inflated shape shifting and sagging as his “light snack” was becoming several tonnes worth of fat. He groaned loudly, his castle shaking as his taut scales steadily softened into a mosaic of tucks and folds and creases, the dragon’s face sinking into the softening expanse of his gut. Dragon King grimaced, his flabby face a mask of grim annoyance as the walls of his palace began to crack, his ever-expanding rolls busting through him as he knew full well what was about to come next. “I hate that monkey” he said in a muffled voice, his head sinking into his neck fat as he rested his weary head on his castle-sized gut.
.:Rated general for:.
>Hose Feeding
>>Inflation
>>Massive WG
>>MacroNetflix The Monkey King is © Netflix.
Word Count: 2463
If you enjoyed the story, feel free to comment and fave, I'd really appreciate it.Dragon King's Just Desserts
It had been a week since Monkey King had been imprisoned under the mountain by Buddha, and life has returned to normal on the land. But below the sea, in a dimly lit palace, things weren’t as great as a mournful voice punctuated the silence and emptiness. “For years, this un-phibian demon’s slurp been rehearsing a scheme chomp, now stand back SMACK cause I’m gonna mmph perform it uuurrpppp!”
Dragon King sighed loudly as he lay on his lounging chair, a spoonful of ice cream shovelled into his mouth as his belch bubbles drifted up. “And nobody will deny my power gulp when I mmm take the world by storm!” he sang wearily, melting into the furniture as he shovelled in another scoop of ice cream, and winced. “Ugh, why did I think peach was a good idea?” he grumbled.
It seemed clever at the time, obviously, when he thought how ironic it would be that his victory feast would include a generous amount of peach-flavoured ice cream as the dessert. It was a show of modesty really, to show he had gotten over the snafu with the peach grove. But now it left a bitter taste in the dragon’s mouth, not that he had much choice really. All his servants were gone, either fled during his fight with Monkey King, or after he had eaten a few in a fit of rage. Now he was alone; all alone. Well, alone only if you discounted a hundred tonnes of peach ice cream; that wasn’t leaving him any time soon. And he could swear he was getting a little chubby, but it was hard to tell when he wasn’t over a hundred feet tall and filled with a thousand gallons of water. “That damn monkey” he seethed, putting his dessert cup down so a feeder hose could re-fill it.
He shoved a heaped spoonful into his gob, and sighed again. He had been doing that a lot lately, which is typically the expected reaction when countless years of planning gets blown up in the span of ten minutes. Really, it was a blessing he hadn’t gone for something harder, like a treacle-based dessert. That stuff will mess, you, up! “Accursed human girl” Dragon King mumbled into the ice cream, his snoot slurping up the contents of the cup.
Sighing again, the dragon’s tail beat irritably as he looked at his worthless machine, now useless without the Column to power it. “Oh Stick, I treated you good for so many years, how could you have betrayed me?” he lamented.
He had loved and cherished Stick for so many years, making sure it was primed and ready for his grandest performance yet. But nooooo, Stick had to run off with that simian hussy and leave him all alone! Speaking of alone, his worthless advisors were absolutely nowhere to be seen, which was just as well, really. Cause for the crime of letting the Monkey King steal Stick, again, they would’ve been his next meal instead of all this accursed ice cream. “Why did I get so much ice cream?!”
An obvious answer, given how a kaiju of his stature was going to need a vast and filling meal once he had drowned the entire world. Unfortunately the main course was all needed to give him the energy to return to his full form, leaving, of course, the interminable amount of ice cream to comfort him after he had no more subjects to eat. If he still had any, maybe they’d tell him to stop eating so much dessert; though in hindsight, that’d probably get them eaten. Dragon King rubbed at his temples, working through an ice cream headache as he stared at his empty dessert cup, and to the hose that’d been filling it up time after time after time after time. “I should’ve filled it with clam chowder or something” the dragon seethed, before staring at the cup again.
Really taking it in such small portions was so time consuming, especially when he could just tip it into his ravenous maw in just one go, so why not…? “Oh well, who do I even have left to impress anymore?” he shrugged and grabbed the hose.
Sticking it into his mouth, he waited patiently for an influx of ice cream, only for a warning siren to sound. “ALERT. NEW RECEPTICLE FOUND! BEGINNING STORAGE TRANSFER!”
“Tranfther?” Dragon King whimpered, before a clamp sprung out of the hose and bound his mouth shut.
“BEGINNING TRANSFER!”
The dragon struggled with the hose (and his hubris) as lumps ran through the pipe, the sickening taste of peach bulging his cheeks out as he refused to swallow. But there was only so much elasticity in them as they swelled up, before he gave in and swallowed. “Why did I choose PEACH?!” he lamented, forcefully gulping down the sickly dessert.
The single bulges began merging together as the flow increased, and Dragon King was starting to feel the weight of his pride bear down upon him; or maybe that was all those gallons of ice cream, it’s hard to tell sometimes. What wasn’t hard to tell was the impact being made on his waistline, which for a noodle like him started at the bottom, and was working its way up. Or perhaps it was down, actually, as his lower body filled up as if a hose was turned on; a technically true statement, actually. Needless to say the dragon’s lower half was packing on the pounds, his scaly hide stretching rather nicely as his belly inflated by second. And even amongst the water it was impossible to miss the sound of all that warm goo blorping about inside him as he expanded in thick, glorping bulges. Already he looked as if he had stuffed a bean bag in his lower body, his hefty gut already sagging from the weight building up, with his skinny thighs bulging as they merged with the heft. His stomach bounced visibly with every forced gulp from the hose, adding more and more to his lower body as Dragon King fought to get the clamp off him. Swimming about awkwardly in a bid to stretch it out, the dragon was horrified to find him sinking quickly, weighed down by the anchor that was his dessert. For no sooner had he risen up had he fallen, his squishy body impacting the stage and spreading his belly across the floor, while his thighs broadened from all the extra mass he was accumulating. In some weird way, he was almost glad that apparently his ability to absorb water apparently applied to any fluid… possibly.
But he couldn’t indulge when his tail thickened with extra mass, and the surge of whatever this was, ice cream or fat, was starting to build upwards to the rest of him. The bottom-heavy dragon struggled to even waddle as he desperately searched for some kind of shut off to this damn pump! Why did he even think a pump was a good idea?! Ugh, it was probably Benbo’s stupid idea; it would’ve been just like him to screw up like this. Dragon King huffed through the hose, feeling very weary from the weight keeping him down, making it so hard to move. His small feet were having so much trouble moving the rest of him, and the rug burn from his blobby thighs rubbing against the inflating mass of his belly wasn’t helping. He’d be panting like a dog if circumstance had allowed it, but unfortunately the hose was pumping greater volumes into him, no doubt sensing “an even bigger receptacle” for the ice cream. WHY DID HE CHOOSE PEACH?! Dragon King grimaced as he felt at his ballooning lower body, his scales wobbling as the ice cream steadily melted into liquid cream, and then, he feared, into something no amount of kegels was going to save him from. His kingly robes were also getting a little tight, especially around the sash that was apparently all that stood against looking like a tube of goo. He actually prayed it would hold, as looking like a stress ball getting squeezed truly seemed better than the alternative. Grunting loudly, he bit hard on the hose, struggling with all his might to maybe break it off. “COMMAND ACCEPTED! TRIPLING OUTPUT!”
“Wha?” the dragon mumbled, his eyes crossing on the massive lump surging through the hose and rushing right towards him.
Struggling even harder, Dragon King’s cheeks bloated with ice cream, his throat opening up fully to allow it all down his oesophagus. His lower body bulged and rippled with every pump, every forceful piping of ice cream he was forced to devour. And very quickly his feet left the ground, rising up on the swelling mound of scales that was his lower belly and thickening tail. The dragon winced as his thighs bulged, a thick ring forming over his smaller calves as, at this point, he could only accept his fate. Subtle bulges spread through his upper body, still clad in his gorgeous robes that held only under the power of his stubborn sash. But the fabric was weakening, much like a cork does in a bottle that had been vigorously shaken. Try as it might it could only hold back the tides for so long, but the lower hem was already straining around a lower body five times larger than his own torso, and it could only hold for so long. A thread slowly began to unwind, whipping through the belt until the simple force of mass launched it off, and lo did the dam burst. It was practically instant for the excess weight to add to his upper body, his chest already forming squishy moobs and his skinny arms rapidly filling up his billowing bell sleeves. It was like his growth before all over again, only much heavier, and flabbier. The cool ice cream could only stay ice cream for so long, and Dragon King could sense his BMI rising. “Curse you Benbo you idiot!”
And the bigger and bulkier the dragon got, the faster the ice cream came, inflating Dragon King with gallons up gallons of fattening goop. His majestic robe was fast coming apart, torn to bits by his stretching blue scales blorping through. A bulge of neck flab pushed back against his high rise neck collar, while his moobs split apart the front like they were opening the gates to welcome home the troops. The dragon was a bloating mess, fattened up by an impossible amount of hose-fed ice cream, with so much more to go. He was so exhausted, his energy spent having tried so hard to move his heavy body, and now all the rest was directed on making use of all that damn sugary goop. It wasn’t even frozen anymore, it was more like yoghurt now; he felt like yoghurt too, from how much he jiggled and wobbled. His robe was in utter ruins now, little more than a few stray tatters clinging to the corpulent king, and soon they were lost in the flood as his widening rear dominated his stage. Not only getting wider but taller, Dragon King was like a water balloon demanding to be filled, his belly groaning from the abuse it was taking. But the clamp was still firmly gripping his muzzle; the grip only barely slacking to allow the increased surge of fattening cream. The dragon had no choice but to take it, his tremendous bulk spreading out until his flabby rear was pouring over the back of the stage, and his sunken, swollen feet were dangling over the other side. His heavy arms could barely even move anymore, the pressure of so much fat only able to keep them resting on the cliffside that was his immense gut, which was now the star of the stage given it was taking up most of it!
Dragon King continued to pitifully gulp down his just desserts, his mass expanding faster and faster in time with the gallons of ice cream he was forced to consume. Immortal Ones above he was so utterly sick of peach, and once he got out of this he would ban peaches from his kingdom. Of course, getting out of this was the tricky part as the bloated, jiggling Dragon King was finding space something of a commodity, as his ballroom was getting a bit on the snug side. His blubber was spilling over the stage in a wave, filling up the pit between it and the seating along the wall; a wall that was getting too close for comfort even from his throne of blubbery neck fat. Dragon King gulped in fear, pulling in a lot more goop as his head was nearing the ceiling, and he was finding his position a little precarious as his jiggly, jell-o mould-like form was finding it hard to balance itself. Swaying about, the dragon found his butt giving out, anchored by his thick tail curling in the pit and pulling him under. Hitting the wall hard, Dragon King’s eyes widened as his tsunami of a belly billowed over him, weighing him down as it went to snuff out the light. Rising higher and higher and higher, a fold gave way, his gut squishing against his face as the last of the space was taken up by him. His blob-like body had engulfed the entire ballroom, with a tuck of gut pressing into the hole normally reserved for the Column. The dragon whimpered pathetically as he could feel every door way, every exit, every window filling with his magnificent corpulence. Normally he wasn’t opposed to be on the large side, but typically he preferred to be OUTSIDE when he was doing it. He was trapped, pinned by his own mountainous belly. The irony of being imprisoned by a mountain, of course, not exactly lost on him. “RECEPTICLE FILLED! RELEASING CLAMP!”
The hose fell from Dragon King’s squished muzzle, which blorped back into shape with a vigorous jostle. He was quiet, thoughtful amidst the endless grumbling of his stomach, his inflated shape shifting and sagging as his “light snack” was becoming several tonnes worth of fat. He groaned loudly, his castle shaking as his taut scales steadily softened into a mosaic of tucks and folds and creases, the dragon’s face sinking into the softening expanse of his gut. Dragon King grimaced, his flabby face a mask of grim annoyance as the walls of his palace began to crack, his ever-expanding rolls busting through him as he knew full well what was about to come next. “I hate that monkey” he said in a muffled voice, his head sinking into his neck fat as he rested his weary head on his castle-sized gut.
Category Story / Fat Furs
Species Eastern Dragon
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 532.6 kB
Comments