Tigress (Kung Fu Panda) begins in earnest to devour her all-you-can-eat feast, but being inexperienced it will take Po's eating expertise to show her how its done!
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This is the finishing half of Year of the Tiger, a tale involving massive weight gain, some slight slob, extreme emotions, and big blobby animals :)
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Ol'Squeaks also owes the requestee an illustration fer this tale. Expect it soon!
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The first part: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/7134497

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Year of the Tiger: Prt 2.

Sumo platters were named for their commonalities with the same round-the-clock meals the sumo wrestlers of the valley indulged in. Between their gorging and heavy sleeping they could coax their bodies to swell into suitable weapons of ring combat. Tigress had none of their training and had starved herself much of her life so the effects of these hardcore meals were manifesting far more rapidly then they might in a professional, or even someone who just enjoyed eating. This was a new experience, and her system didn’t quite know how to handle it.
First it cornered off the invasive material it wasn’t used to as best it could. Her abdomen began to feel puffy, tender to the touch. She ignored it.
Second it tried desperately to inform her of possible danger to her well being through quickened heartbeat and beads of cold sweat. She ignored it.
Thirdly her paws began trembling like mad, slopping the bowl all over her arms when she reached out to sample it for the fifteenth time. The first Sumo Platter bowl rocked and tipped over to one side despite her flailing to prevent it and its payload of noodles spattered in a gooey fan.
The onlookers set up a call of concern. Tigress felt a thrill of panic. Her timing had been thrown. She’d never get back in the zone and this opportunity would be gone forever!
Then, as if from the heavens, a black and white paw descended and righted the bowl.
Po gave her a wink.
“You’ve got this, Tig.” He said.
“No need to worry. I’ll get another bowl!” Mr. Ping said, flustered.
“No you will not!” Tigress snapped, snatching the bowl up and, before even she knew it was happening, upending it directly into her mouth. The slimy contents slipped through her teeth and directly down her gullet with disturbing ease. She hardly had to work to force it in: all it took was time.
Finished, she banged the bowl down, drained to the dregs.
The Furious Five gave a celebratory shout, but Tigress just reached over to grab a second bowl and raised it to her lips, gulping it with great ragged swigs.
In her belly the torrent amassed, mounted. Her breathing wheezed, making bubbles in the broth. Her red gi began to tighten around a visible bump, growing. Guzzling filled her ears. Then gurgling as her body fought to digest meal upon meal.
Her face screwed up, not in pain but extreme effort. Again that feeling of too much, too fast invaded her purpose. Fear. She was getting fuller, not only in the appetite sense but also in the quite literal fashion. Her trimness was plumping. Firming up with each swallow. It was akin to Tigress being a pillowcase, cramming with fluff until her walls had to push out to restrain it.
Her eyes closed shut. With a final prolonged slurp the last of the second bowl vanished.
She plopped the bowl upside down on the table counter, grinned triumphantly…then let loose with a single sharp belch.
It shocked the onlookers for a moment only before another cheer rent the air.
“Um…Tigress?” Monkey blinked sleepily. “You’re looking a little…chubby.”
Tigress riveted him with a searching glare. Her paws kneaded her pliable gut. It was like a pillow where once she would have felt only taut abs and tum. She was so soft and wobbly now. The clasps on her jacket were under dangerous stress.
“Oh no!” Monkey waved his hands. “I didn’t mean chubby like that! I misspoke. Sorry.”
“No.” Tigress frowned. “You meant it. How ‘chubby’ do you think I am?”
“Um…”
Stork raised a wing and Tigress pointed a claw in his direction.
“Kinda…puffy?” He offered, nervously.
Tigress smirked.
“Just that?” she demanded.
“Actually you’re getting pretty round.” Mantis mused, tapping his chin. “You really made a pig of yourself there. It’s unusual. You’re usually so…”
“You.” Finished Viper, looking concerned.
“You mean…I don’t seem like myself?”
As one the Furious Five (sans herself) shook their heads.
“Good.” She said, curtly.
“Come on guys…” Po grumbled. “Give her a break. A little over indulgence is good for the…”
“Three more of these!” Tigress snapped her fingers as she drew the final bowl to directly before her, pulling two handfuls of noodles from it and thrusting both home at the same time.
“Then again…” Po’s expression turned slightly grave.
“THREE MORE?” Mr. Ping put a wing over his heart. “Miss…not even the most famous Sumo wrestler I know can stomach SIX Sumo platters in one sitting! You’ll be sick!”
She shook her head fervently.
“Three more.”
She tipped up the third bowl and began swigging it. It was easier now. The adjustments had been made and now she had room. She knew how to handle it, but still she pushed herself. Slightly chubby wouldn’t do at all. Nothing by halves.
Her belt was courteous enough to unbuckle itself, riding up on a current of pressurized noodle-filled chest. A light swelling crept into her limbs, her cheeks taking on a cherubic appearance as they engorged and turned bright red with her exertions.
“All you can eat!” she seethed, slamming the third bowl down. “That’s what the deal is, right?”
Mr. Ping nodded dazedly.
“Good.” Tigress hiccupped, whipping the flowing broth from her mouth. “Three more! And give me some of these dumplings too…and some turnips…and the sea food special!”
She handed back the menu, dotted with where her claws had etched the requested items.
Her breathing was languid. She could practically sense her brain entering into a torpid state. What kind of enlightenment to be had in this stuffed, glutted, food speckled condition she couldn’t imagine. Maybe she’d know three more bowls from now.
The wafting of food made her feel slightly queasy. Tigress felt heavier, looser fitting, pudgy. The paws before her were broader too and her dexterity was far worse, just lifting up the spoon taking a taxing amount of concentration.
When her three new Sumo platters arrived, the guests started to depart for their homes one by one. The night gong had sounded and they went chattering on their way, not close enough to Tigress to see the sad shape she was in, and they continues whistles and shrieks of support unto the gate and the street beyond.
Then, when Tigress had consumed a fourth Sumo bowl the Furious Four and Master Shifu bowed their own exit, all of them patting her on the back as they passed. Shifu tried to meet her eye, looking genuinely worried, but Po patted his hand and smiled.
“She’s new to this deal, but when it comes to eating I’ve got it down. You guys go on ahead. I’ll take care of her.”
The red panda looked not the least bit relieved at this development but left regardless with one suspicious backwards glance.
Po turned back to Tigress and saw her struggling with the fifth bowl, much more of the noodles and soup splashing her then ending up in her mouth.
“Hey! Hey! HEY!”
Po rushed to her, gripping the bowl and turning it to an even keel, fighting off Tigress’ feeble struggles to keep drinking it.
“You’re going about this too hardcore. Seeing as you are who you are I suppose that’s just what you do, but if you’re going to binge you’ve got to do it right. Now here…slow….”
Her helped her to tip the bowl back, carefully this time.
“Get it all bunched up at a choke point so it slides in rather then splattering all over. Keep part of the bowl up so the noodles and stuff don’t slip into your face too. That’s key. Also, pause for breaths.”
It was indeed simpler that way. In record time she had a fifth empty bowl.
Po licked his paw and dutifully wiped Tigress’ face around the eyes.
“There. If you’re all blocked off you can’t see what you’re eating, right?”
She growled low, disliking the feeling of being babied.
“Just showing you the ropes.” He shrugged.
Then he spied the steaming Dragon Warrior size dumpling. Mr. Ping must have either been feeling generous, or hoped to stuff Tigress silly so that she’d finally leave.
“Want…” Tigress murmured, groping her fat paws at the dumpling.
It was uncanny. She really desperately wanted the thing.
“This?” Po chuckled. “I don’t blame you Tig, but take things easy, all right?”
He passed it and she immediately hugged it and clamped her jaws over it, rooting through its dough in blind hunger.
The remnants of her rational mind was fascinated and terrified at the ravenous thing this splurge had reduced her to. Still nothing resembling Dragon Warrior status secrets were presenting themselves.
But none of that mattered now. She wanted dumpling!
“You might be a Kung Fu Master, but quite frankly…you sorta suck at eating.” Po shook his head. “Come on now.”
He dragged the dumpling across the table, nearly dragging Tigress along with it if her bloated stomach hadn’t’ caught on the table edge. Po pointed to the dumpling, specifically one flap of its tan skin.
“Find a point of attack!”
He gripped the flap with his teeth and pulled until it broke away.
Tigress howled in dismay.
“MINE!” she hissed.
“Yeah, yeah.” Po waved his paw dismissively. “In a moment. I’m just showing you.”
He chewed, beaming.
“Little bites at first. Let the insides cool enough to handle. When you get up steam and work out how to delve in you can go for it, but a Dragon Warrior dumpling is like…like a warthog raider guy! You’ve got to study his moves, figure out how to take him out.”
“Mine…” Tigress whimpered.
Po scooted the dumpling into her waiting paws. At first she ripped into it with abandon, but when a hot gush of meat sauce slapped her across the face she drew away with a yap.
“Beginner trap.” Po sighed sagely. “Got me WAY too many times too. Its why you’ve got to be careful.”
When she recovered she tried it Po’s way, picking and pulling the dumpling to pieces, gobbling the innards when they ceased to be untouchably sizzling.
The Dragon Warrior looked on proudly.
“Say…Tig…I never knew you were into this kind of thing.”
“Mmph.” Tigress burbled, not looking in his direction.
The last of the dumpling disappeared and Tigress sat back with a groan, considerably meatier, her middle rounded into a perfect curve. Just leaning caused her jacket catches to give up the ghost and the red fabric spread wide, revealing her blubbery, furry torso.
Po looked away instinctively, but Tigress said nothing to indicate she had noticed. All she did was make little discomforted grunts.
“I hope you didn’t take my saying you suck personally.” Po looked at his feet. “Really, you’ve got potential! With a little practice…”
Tigress burped loud and long enough to make the plates and bowls shake.
“M…more…” she whispered.
Po brightened.
“Coming right up!”
Her arms were too weighty and her stamina was too shot to continue to eat herself, but the Dragon Warrior was more then happy to help her along. She was dimly impressed by the care and finesse the panda showed for the handling and delivery of food, his handholds and rate of introduction for each type being a different, practiced maneuver. Rice her piled into her puckered mouth with deft but gentle samplings with chopsticks. Meat he took by the back end and lowered in time to her chewing. Tigress knew she was getting too ponderous for her ease but Po wasn’t forcing her to do anything she didn’t choose to. At times he’d pause in feeding her to see if she opened her mouth, searching her eyes for any sign of reluctance. Her willpower was too great for such a display of weakness so he continued to supply her. With hand gestures she indicated to Mr. Ping she wanted still more dishes and he abridged, stumbling back to the kitchen with an increasingly apprehensive expression.
She ate until her armbands pained her and Po had to remove them. She ate until she could see her belly expanding before her. Po tenderly lifted her chair and carried her away from the table, so that her vast distended body would no longer bunch up against the table and threaten to tip her backwards in her chair.
She ate until she felt so brimful with food that she was nearing her limits of stretch.
What would happen then? Would she finally give in and be violently ill?
Would she pass out?
Would she just burst like the biggest firework China had ever seen?
The world was a haze of smells and tastes and her heaving and panting form. Tigress was a dam fighting against summer rains engorging the river. She was a dumpling sated with spices and meats, a grain sack ready to tear at the seams.
This was enlightenment? The secret? She hoped for Po to feed her the last needed piece. This roly-poly (so huge she could see her girth had actually beaten Po’s own size!) she felt terribly wonderful, horribly satisfied. She was slick, dripping and smeared with cuisine all over her bareness. It was humiliating, but still so pleasing to her. Maybe it would be best for her to explode. She was near enough to a balloon as was and she sadly reviewed how much of a failure she’d been. All the training, all the hard work for nothing. She would never be the Dragon Warrior. She was worthless, and now she was just a vibrating globe of pressurized fur. She’d become nothing soon, save a few food stains on the walls and table and chair. She hoped it wouldn’t take too much effort to mop her up. She wasn’t worthy of such consideration.
One more bite. She could feel it. She longed for it. Like a baby bird she cooed softly, beckoning the half-seen piece of pork into her lips.
Po noticed the tear at the corner of her eye.
“Hey…”
He tossed the fork away. Tigress sobbed.
“Nooooo…” she was too heavy to even shift. “I want it! I want…”
“Uh uh.” The panda moved around her bulk so he could look into her eyes, lost in a sea of fuzzy fatness. “If you’re not having any fun there’s no point, is there? What’s going on?”
She swallowed a lump in her throat. Although puffy and tired her eyes sought out his.
“I just…want to be…”
“Be what?” Po asked intently.
Tigress laughed quietly.
“Dragon…Warrior?”
Po looked stunned.
“Excuse me?”
“I wanna be Dragon Warrior!” Tigress griped. “Either that or I…wanna blow up!”
“PARDON?”
Po brushed the feast aside with the back of his arm. He bent in closer to stare at Tigress.
“You okay? I thought you wanted to give binging a try. I didn’t know you were…”
“Let me blow up…” Tigress hiccupped. “I’m…worthless.”
“Don’t say that.” Po scowled. “Not ever.”
“But…secret of your…power.”
“You’re talking crazy talk and I’m going to get help!”
“But…”
It was far as she got before he peeled off and headed for the street.
“Don’t go anywhere!” he called out over his shoulder. “Aw jeez…Tig…”
There wasn’t a lot of choice. Her buttocks oozed off either side of the chair and practically reached the ground. Her tail, heavy with fat, dragged. Her arms, tiny compared to the swollen mountain of the rest of her, were useless.
She could see the food. Crazily she still had the desire to wolf it down. Maybe it would help her find the secret. Maybe she’d pop. It didn’t matter.
But she couldn’t move. All she could do was sit and mewl and grope pathetically at the table.
By the time Po arrived with the Furious Four and Master Shifu, all in fashionable Kung Fu night garments, she had tired herself so much that she was fast asleep and snoring.
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The next day she was still blobby but at least mobile thanks to a pair of custom made crutches. Master Shifu had done a thorough investigation of her humors and determined the cause of her imbalance and her nightmares.
Near starvation.
“I am very sorry to have ignored the warning signs of your troubled spirit.” He said.
Tigress, feeling strangely much better then the previous day, smiled her forgiveness.
“The meditative state requires inner peace and some can reach this neglecting distractions.” He shot a glance at a tapestry depicting Po as The Dragon Warrior. “But in some cases the lack of distractions can create…distractions.”
“So my fasting was wrong?”
“No. Neither was your binging by itself a wrong course of action either. It was your distraction at the need to deny yourself, or to force yourself to be better then others that caused the imbalance and your dreams. Anything done for love is rarely a misstep, but things done for pride are more often then not self destructive.”
She nodded humbly.
“I believe with exercise and dieting I’ll be able to return to my old self.” She shrugged. “Still…on occasion, I think I shouldn’t mind trying this ‘binging’ again. It was…fun.”
“Try everything once.” Master Shifu said with a wink.
“I have a good trainer.” She chuckled.
She hobbled down the pagoda steps, sensing her body weight swing. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation especially now that she was in charge of it, accepting it.
Then her crutch missed a step.
With a yowl of terror she fell forward, the fall cushioned by her flab, which sucked her head into its mass. Like a ball the total rotundity of her being bounced harmlessly from stair to stair like a ball until at last it came to rest in the courtyard.
She unrolled like an armadillo and lay flat, immobile.
“Nice form!”
Po hefted her to a sitting position, her body gurgling as it changed positions. He was dwarfed beneath her but seemed to make nothing of, waving just as cheerily as before.
“I’d hate to be a bad guy in the path of THAT technique! Here, I want to see you roll again!”
He gave her a playful shove and like a giant boulder she did indeed trundle across the flagstones. It felt surprisingly grand. Every part of her tingled by the time he leaned against her and brought her to a stop.
She blushed and smiled, unabashed.
“Say…” he smiled mischievously. “I know you’ve got the diet thing going, but if I carried you to my dad’s place…would you like a Dragon Warrior dumpling?”
Tigress half closed her eyes in thought.
“Or two?” she asked, hopefully.