A hungry foxtaur doesn't approve of Black Friday shopping - but he doesn't mind indulging in a little hedonistic consumerism.

Fat/Vore story. Haven't written anything in a long while, so I'm pretty rusty. Had this Thanksgiving/Black Friday themed idea for a while, just got around to writing it. It's pretty silly, not going to lie. Enjoy!

Art from icon is from  direhusky http://www.furaffinity.net/view/21631447/

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Under normal circumstances, Wasd wouldn’t condone going to the mall on Thanksgiving. The wide kitsune-taur didn’t see the appeal of bolting down a big meal, then jamming himself elbow-to-elbow with dozens of desperate shoppers to fight over limited stock in understaffed stores. However, this trip would be different. Wasd wouldn’t be shopping for gifts; he would be browsing for snacks.


The fat taur had timed his arrival at the mall to coincide with the largest selection of shoppers. Several stores had been open all day, but he was more interested in the late-opening stores; those would attract the after-dinner crowd.


Wasd settled his considerable bulk near a big box retail store that was drawing large crowds. A significant portion of the gathering looked like they had only just finished dinner; the smell of turkey wafted around a few of the patrons, enticing a few greedy glurrrrrgles from the fatfox’s two tummies. He had already devoured his own Thanksgiving meal earlier; this was just dessert.


As the minutes ticked down to opening, the crowd started to become agitated and restless. This was Wasd’s cue to saunter to the back of the line and survey the patrons up-close. His above-average height made him stick out a bit, but also allowed him the opportunity to pick out potential meals.


Almost every fur was in a state between “full” and “food-coma.” Near the front of the line was a particularly girthy otter, jockeying with a number of much-thinner furs for position near the door. Further back, members of a hyena family were still trying to shovel down their Thanksgiving in to-go containers, no doubt the source of the heavenly smell causing Wasd’s guts to cry out in greed. A wolf hefted his swollen tum still further back, while a zaftig lioness admired the results of her own gluttony.


At last, doors were opened and the fight began, customers shoving and pushing their way in to claim their doorbusters and discounts. The fat otter near the front managed to wedge himself around several furs, temporarily jamming the door before the pressure of the crowd around him forced them all into the store. The line moved relatively quickly as furs rushed down the aisles and to the display stands. Wasd followed behind, bringing up the rear of the line and drooling unabashedly.


The foxtaur was waiting for the right moment. Tensions were high, but there was still some civility maintained despite the rush to grab first-come-first-served prizes out of cowering employees’ paws. As more patrons flooded the store, though, Wasd knew it would only be a matter of time before things boiled over into chaos. His ears perk up at the sound of a dismayed cry, turning down one of the aisles to find the source of the commotion. The overstuffed wolf from the line was fighting with a much smaller fox, each of them tugging on a doll playset. Wasd’s eyes glimmered as he licked his lips, approaching them both with hunger in his eyes.


The fox looked up from his struggle with the wolf as the taur towered over the both of them. The wolf paid Wasd no heed, especially when the foxtaur grabbed at the smaller vulpine. At first, it seemed that he was trying to separate the two, tugging the fox away from the fight. As the wolf held the boxed toy to his chest in protective triumph, he looked back at the taur to thank him-- only to stare slackjawed. The greedy taur had already shoved his squirming meal in head-first and was swallowing rapidly, tilting his head back to let the fox slide past his lips and down his throat. His foregut bulged out with the squirming, writhing figure as Wasd glucked and gulped him down, making short work of him. Turning next to the stunned wolf, Wasd grinned a drool-dripping grin. “Don’t worry, that lil guy wasn’t much of a snack. I have plenty of room for a stuffed meal like yourself.”


The portly lupine turned to try and dash away, but the taur’s strong paws gripped his shoulders and tugged him backwards. Drool-slicked jaws descended from above, engulfing the wolf’s head whole. His arms were pinned to his side as Wasd swallows over his chest, still clutching the toy he had been fighting over as the taur’s paws gripped at his swollen belly and played with his stuffed figure, before swallowing again. Wasd easily stretched his jaws around the fattened fur’s gut, groaning around his meal as he enjoyed the sensation of swallowing a well-fed prey. With two meals squirming in his foregut, the gluttonous foxtaur waddled down the aisle, ears swiveling in search of his next meal.


His nose found them first, picking up the scents of Thanksgiving two aisles down. The hyena family was walking single file, a few of them still trying to finish off their doggy-bagged dinner. Wasd crept behind them as they wound through the store, grabbing the smallest one and devouring her in one gulp. He waited until the next one was shoveling a big mawful of stuffing into his face. It acted as an excellent gag, keeping him muffled all the way down the taur’s throat. By now, his previous meals had moved on to the more roomy (but much more active) taurgut, breaking down into more fat for the greedy foxtaur.


The third hyena was a lot bigger - and a lot noisier, alerting the mama-yeen to the plight of her family. She whirled around, face draining of color at the sight of two kicking paws hanging from a foxtaur’s muzzle. Wasd was surprised at how quickly she acted, grabbing at her eldest son’s legs in an attempt to tug him out of the taur’s jaws - only to find her own arms engulfed in saliva-slicked maw muscles, following after her family.


Wasd rubbed over his foregut as the bulges inside shifted and jostled and adjusted, slowly softening and moving down into his second belly after a time. He looked up from his enjoyment, only to realize that a throng of shocked observers had witnessed his last meal. Taking advantage of their frightened stupor, Wasd pounced forward, bowling over and pinning multiple furs, already grabbing and gulping the closest one.


Panic erupted from the crowd as dozens of furs stampeded away from the gluttonous foxtaur. Fortunately for Wasd, their frightened escape only encouraged the unaware shoppers to double down on their frenzy, thinking the stampede was incentivized by the fast-vanishing stock. By the time Wasd had finished off the furs that had been trapped under his growing girth, he had the pick of the lot.


It went on like this for hours, the gluttonous foxtaur devouring dozens of hapless shoppers as they scampered and scrapped and sprinted across the store, many of them unaware of the slowly widening predator among them until it was too late. His body swelled out and around, his frame growing softer as he absorbed those that had digested long enough. Eventually, though, the store started to thin out, as products ran out and scared shoppers disappeared out the door or into the taur.


Reluctantly, Wasd waddled towards the exit. His gorging had left him nigh-immobile, his overfed foregut packed with squirming, wriggling forms, leaving odd bulges in his thick frame. The newly added layers of pudge were already softening his features, adding extra weight to his arms and swelling out his plush chest until his moobs were resting on the still-stuffed dome of his foretum. His limbs had thickened out considerably, and that wide taurrump had gotten considerably wider, jiggling with every exaggerated, swaggering step towards the door. His taurgut was the most impressively oversized part of him, though. Still immensely swollen and slightly bulging with the softened outlines of countless meals, Wasd’s lower gut forced his legs wide apart, dragging against the ground as he slowly made his way to the exit. His flanks brushed against either side of the aisles, pushing the shelves apart. His fat frame spilled over the checkout registers as he squeezed past them - only to stop at the door.


It seemed that Wasd wasn’t the only one to have taken advantage of the holiday shoppers’ frenzy. Wedged into the door, gut bulging and gurgling, was the fat otter from the front of the line. His thick tail waggled impatiently as he huffed and squirmed, his overstuffed stomach trapping him in the double-wide doorframe, automatic doors closed around his belly. Unable to turn around, he tried and failed to look back at the sound of the approaching foxtaur. “Hey, a little help? The door sensor seems broken; probably from all the stampeding.” Wasd watched as the otter licked his lips; he clearly had plans for whomever helped him through the door.


Stepping forward, Wasd pried the sliding doors aside, freeing the otter. Instead of falling forward, though, the otter let himself fall backwards, expecting to pin his helper beneath him - only to find his fall halted by something large and pillowy. Looking up in surprise, his gaze met that of the taur’s - followed by a dollop of drool splatting down onto his nose.


“Going somewhere?” rumbled Wasd. “You know, it’s not a good idea to move around so much after a big meal.”

END