"Russ wakes up to find himself trussed up in the back room of Callum's bakery...in only his underwear...hanging from the ceiling. Helpless, the slim German Shepard quickly realizes just how dire his situation is when Callum greets him with a long line of confections. The drake's plan is simple: stuff Russ until he's big enough to break his bonds. There's no limit to what that size might be however. "

A story I got from the ever fabulous hdalby33! Be sure to fave/comment on the original: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/20950146/

Story/Callum ©  hdalby33
Edited by  Aaron Aerin and Eryn
Icon art ©  FatTato
Russ ©  noone

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Bulging Bonds
Featuring: Russ and Callum
By: hdalby33

CREEEEaaaakkkk-SssssqqqUaaaaww-CrEEEEaaakk-Sqqquuuaaaww…the sound was distant, soothing, as if he were floating on a ship, rocking too and fro. Russ’s eyes snapped open. He WAS swinging back and forth, but it was on no ship. Wriggling helplessly, the Alsatian quickly realized his arms and legs were bound tight. His lower limbs locked together by a thick leather belt and bent at the knee. His paws secured to a strap snugged tightly across his bare, brown chest and to a collar around his neck. He wriggled again, but it seemed to make the bonds tighten. He swung back and forth again. CrrrEEEEaaaa-SqqqQQuaawww. Another whimper escaped his lips as he realized he was helpless. Clad in nothing but a pair of white undies, the German Shepard dangled several feet from the ground, suspended by a thick velvet cable. CrrrEEEEaaaa-SqqqQQuaawww…

Suddenly a light washed over his frightened face, coming from a door on the far side of the room. A rotund figure was outlined in the rectangle of light, growing larger as it stepped forward. Callum grinned sinisterly to the confounded canine, looking entirely innocent in his baker’s apron. Russ had to guess he was in the bakery’s back room. Slowly the drake approached, his footsteps melding with the creak of the trussed and bound dog who hung like a slab of meat from his ceiling. CRRRReeeeAAAAAkkKK-SSSsssQqqquuuaaaWWWww-CrrrRRR-Silence. Callum gently stilled the Alsatian’s swings, giggling as Russ shuddered. The boulder-bellied baker held a steaming apple pie in his other hand. There was a wicked glint in the drake’s icy-blue eyes. “Let’s see how much that rope can hold, hmm?”

Russ stammered, his limbs feeling numb where the leather dug into them. “I-I…I don’t…”

“No,” Callum echoed, “You don’t have a choice. Poor puppy.” With that, he crammed the pie into Russ’s maw, filling it to the brim with the heavy pastry.

The German Shepard was briefly overcome by the delicious apple and flake, feeling the cinnamon dance lively across his tongue. Callum accidently smothered his snout too, filling the dog’s nose with sultry scents. With his other paw, the corpulent baker softly rubbed Russ’s chocolate furred belly, sending him swaying from side to side. Russ forcibly swallowed big gulps of pie, so as not to drown in the rich goo crammed against his face. The contrast between the force-feeding and gentle kneads was hypnotic as the hapless pup eventually polished off the first course.

Callum reveled in the soft distension of the Alsatian’s stomach. It tightened notably with the loaded pie, sagging mercilessly and dragging Russ’s weight down with it. The pup whined pitifully, giving the baker big pleading eyes to relinquish the squeeze of the straps around his chest and ankles. He only responded with a loving squeeze of the Shepard’s belly.

“You’ll come down soon enough,” he cooed, “As soon as the rope holding you snaps.” With that, the plump derg turned to get the next item, leaving Russ to dangle like an overweight ornament.

The hapless hound felt the leather dig into his ankles as his underwear-clad butt plumped out with pudge, inducing an strange sensation of numbness and heaviness. Callum loved injecting calorie enhancers into his confections, especially for customers who shared his enthusiasm for good food and greater girths. Though Russ wasn’t so sure he appreciated the extra weight as it hung heavily from his hips and stomach. He felt like a living pendulum.

The next smell to invade his sensitive snout was mellower than the pie, but that was just about the only feature less extreme than its predecessor. Hoisting a lemon meringue cake onto the upper shelf of his stomach, Callum fanned the sweet and sour scents directly into Russ’s face. He whine again, wanting to reach out for the tantalizing cake despite his arms being squeezed mercilessly behind his shoulders. The baker solved that problem by hovering the confection within maw’s length of the dangling dog, giving Russ a perfect vantage point to pig out. The Alsatian was on the verge of doing so, but he still struggled to hold back. His belly, now soft with a couple inches of lard, sagged with the robustness of a warm chocolate drop.

Callum reached out and began kneading the Shepard’s tummy, rolling that soft brown puppy fat in his paws and caressing the fears from Russ’s mind. “C’mon little pup, if you eat well, I’ll let you off your leash.” He squeezed and kneaded the warm pudge like dough, chuckling as Russ’s eyes glazed over with bliss. Slowly the pup’s nose tipped forward and into the meringue, where he began devouring it in little sharp bites.

The drake kept on with the tender rubs, murring himself as he felt the rolls and curves of Russ’s belly thicken with cakey lard. Murmuring pleasurably, the Alsatian’s tummy felt heavenly sated as the baker’s claws squirmed against the blubber packing itself around him. He hung heavier and heavier from the rope, resembling a brown piñata swollen with candy. Russ didn’t care. He simply had to continue indulging himself.

The cake was delicious with a vivid vanilla shot through by shavings of lemon that soured his tongue just enough to be relieved by the cream-cheese frosting. Callum hummed soothingly, offering words of encouragement to him as if he were an obedient pup. For all he was concerned, the food made him whatever the baker wished. He just had to have more of it. With every bite, his frame pillowed out in inches and creases, plumpening up his cheeks, rolling out his thighs, caking up two globular cheeks beneath stretched underwear, and making his belly and chest sag low with pastry-heavy flab. Unnoticed to him, Russ’s eating habits were supported by a ladder of deepr brown chins that merged with the chocolate fur of his chest, bypassing a fat-swaddled neck altogether.

Callum reached up and tickled the dog’s neck, running his claws along the thick rolls of the canine’s bulging chins so the pup shivered. To Russ it was like droplets of silver gliding over his fur, easing the tension from his bones and melting them into puffy layers of supple fat. Every square centimeter of his form sagged in resplendent fashion, forming thick brown deposits of canine corpulence. The leather bindings holding him in place creaked and dug in ever more, making deeeeeep crevices where puppy pudge swelled around them.

Unnoticed by Russ, Callum decided to bypass the treacheries of hindering the pup’s binging stride and simply supplied him with a stream of over-saturated confections. Russ barely registered the changes until the fragrant tastes were filling his maw. From the lemon meringue came a rugged pumpkin pie, filling him with memories of autumn and adipose. Then it was onto a decadent red velvet cake coated in deep purple frosting and countered with heavy whips of licorice. Callum couldn’t resist with that one and removed one of the licorice whips to slap gently along the Shepard’s sensitive tummy. They struck the overburdened sphere of fur and flab in sharp stinging succession that bought out a straining red under the brown of Russ’s fur, making him whine and wince gently. He had panted fretfully, thinking the stings would surely make him pop as the pressures mounted up. His stomach was the size of an overfilled beanbag, swaying ponderously and beating an angry pink where the licorice lashes landed. But Callum was calculated and soon his paws replaced the stings with dreamy rubs, pushing deep into the earthen flab to rub away the pulses of fire burning in the overstrained blubber of Russ’s belly. And still the baker fed his bound pup, making Russ swell with a lovely rotundity that exceeded even his own expectations. The Alsatian could barely even feel his arms and legs now, their protests and those of the bonds holding them in place lost to the utter vastness of his belly.

By now, his undie-covered butt threatened the stretchy fabric, which professed two delightfully swollen domes for cheeks. Both belly and bottom heavy, Russ was sure he’d pop at any moment, or at very least the rope from which he hung would have the courtesy to snap. It didn’t happen that way though.

Instead Russ’s savior was his own belly, the massive mattress that it was. Swollen and still an angry red from the blows of licorice, it finally graced the warm wood of the bakery floor. It barely grazed the grains of the oak, but his tummy was sensitive and strained enough to make it feel like an oasis rushing over his heated flab. The Alsatian opened his maw pleadingly for another bite, but was greeted with air. Callum had taken notice too.

Standing up, the baker appraised the bulging sphere of canine in front of him. Russ dangled as wide as he was tall, a colossus of fat and fur so wonderfully heavy that the rope holding him had not an inch of give in it. Russ hung there, his belly kissing the floor so tenderly an ant could’ve played Atlas with it. He was still suspended, the leather bonds holding him in place burrowed deep against wrists, ankles, and a chest so overstuffed with flab they were almost non-existent. Russ whined again, so close to the floor, so heavy. “C-cut me down,” he managed, whimpering softly.

“I dunno,” Callum giggled, walking around the sphere of Shepard and poking his swollen sides, “Usually a pup eats enough to set themselves free.” Another cry of pleading sounded from the sweet Alsatian. Russ felt like he’d faint from the taxing nature of his bulging midriff. “Well I suppose…” the baker continued, before lashing out languidly with a knife at the rope holding the pup. It took no effort to cleave the tortured rope in two, freeing an eight-hundred pound ball bearing in the process.

Russ gasped in relief, bouncing sluggishly atop his domed middle. Groans and grumbles riled up through the globe of flab, but he ignored them. Feeling flooded back into his bulk and then into his limbs as Callum sliced off the harness and bonds, keeping the stuffed dog steady. Once everything was free, the corpulent baker padded back around to Russ’s rotund front, running his claws over one bulging side as he went. “So,” the drake hummed, pressing his paws into Russ’s chest and kneading around the pliant flesh. “What do you think of the bakery now?”

The amiable hound grunted, trying not to enjoy the rubs and failing miserably. “Alright, I suppose. Food was good, but the service was a bit…forceful.”

“Oh?” Callum responded, squeezing Russ’s lovehandles harder, “Well that was what you asked for, if I recall.”

Russ cocked an eyebrow. “I imagined something more along the lines of magic or tricker-mmmmm,” his tail thumped softly against his bulging butt as Callum’s claws sank into a particularly aching area of pudge.

The baker shrugged, “I wanted to try something new.” He cupped the Alsatian’s neckless head in his paws and thumbed two brown cheeks the size of pomegranates, “And you wanted to be surprised. Would a little fattening spell in your muffin have done the trick?”

Russ thought it over, his immense bulk still hot from the sensual strains of the feeding. “No,” he began to giggle, grinning wickedly. “I suppose not.”

“Right,” Callum hummed. “Now I have you stuffed to the brim, completely blitzed out of your mind, and you’re giggling like a dope.” The Alsatian whined at that, but the drake simply gripped his doughy collar in his paws, feeling them spill through his fingers, “An adorable dope, mind you.”

Russ’ smile returned to his chubby face, his belly sloshing from side to side with even the slightest movement that tilted him off his axis.

“A comfy dope,” Callum continued.

“What do you mean by that ooooooooOOOf!” Russ groaned laboriously as the drake rolled him over to one side, rotating the heavy contents of his stomach. The drake pushed his paws into the fuzzy wall of fur and continued kneading, his arms disappearing up to elbows where Russ’ supple midriff swallowed them in. The dog was so doughy Callum figured he could lay into the lard and disappear. “Well I suppose I can’t do much,” came a muse from around the curve of the canine’s gut.

“Nope,” the baker agreed, before spreading his arms out and falling face first against the blimp of a dog. Russ protested with another “oooooOOOOf,” but Callum ignored it as he indulged in the abundant belly with a draconic thrum of pleasure. “Like a big dopey bread roll,” he purred, nibbling the thick pudge and tickling it much to Russ’ dismay.

The hound wriggled and protested, but there was nothing he could do. He was at the complete and utter mercy of a baker as unpredictable as the pastries they baked.