So, while the story below is a commission for  johnlobo, it was inspired by this picture, showing my cheshire Theo in his younger, headier days, when he was spreading his wild oats. Some go backpacking in Europe, Theo grew huge and muscular by conquering ancient, mythical kingdoms and fattening up the local royalty to be his new bed. Different strokes.

If you want to see more stories and art of Theo through the ages, consider checking out my story pack here: https://www.e-junkie.com/ecom/gb.php?c=cart&ejc=2&cl=330887&i=1561546

Leo ©  johnlobo
Theo, story © c'est moi
Art ©  rockytheprocy

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You listen politely as you’re led down one of half a dozen portrait galleries in a sprawling mansion. Your tour guide is an odd character; despite giving you a business card so you could memorize his six-part name and no less than a dozen titles, he insists you call him Theo. You have come across a cheshire cat; a being of chaos and mischief, and unfortunately- or fortunately- for you, you came across one with a fetish. He had sniffed you out as an aspiring bodybuilder, and made grand promises to mold you into the champion you always wanted to be. Looking at the portraits that line his cavernous home, you’ve picked up that he certainly has a type. Each portrait, lovingly detailed and grandiose, showed all kinds of figures from history, and each one of them bigger than the last; absolute titans of muscle and strength, doing all kinds of poses. You hadn’t even thought it was possible to get that huge… and the fact that the cheshire before was particularly well built and broad-shouldered gave him quite a bit of credibility.

“Admiring, are we?” Theo purrs, appearing beside you as you had fallen behind him. The cheshire was dressed in a blue and gold outfit more suited to a Jane Austen novel, silk stockings, cravat, and all. His fur was a sea-green marked with darker green stripes, and a well-groomed mane of white hair. Unnervingly, every time you look at him, his eyes seem to flash a different color. He directs your attention back to the portrait; it’s a hulking wolf, so overbuilt and swollen with muscle, his armor is very close to bursting. He was painted striking a pose, his arm like a battering ram wrapped around a sword, and his massive shield bearing a sigil

“Now, there is one of my favorite clients… have you ever heard of Sir Lancelot?” Theo’s smile spreads unimaginably wide as you look at him, unbelieving. “The legends slimmed him down considerably, regrettably… you don’t think Guinevere would have left Arthur for some twiggy-armed twit, do you?”

You gawk at the picture, even starting to wonder what you would look like with such a build. Mere moments later, some of the paintings took a strange turn, as the people in them were still huge, but they were enormously obese, with their bellies dominating the portraits. Theo rattled off the names of mighty strongmen and notorious gluttons interchangeably, and you’re starting to worry he might have different plans than making you buff. When you ask, Theo smiles wider.

You follow him a bit further, but your eyes catch a different piece of artwork; a monumental marble statue, featuring an immense cat crowned with a laurel wreath, dressed in the most revealing toga you’ve ever seen. You frown, realizing that same wide smile on the statue is the same as your host; it’s Theo!

“Ah, now, that has an interesting story. Would you like to hear it? Unless you’re getting impatient to start…”

Remembering the pictures of people too fat to move, you decide it’s best to sit down and amuse Theo, for as long as possible.

The cheshire chuckles airily. “Ah, well, that is from my youth, when I was far… hungrier…”

~0~

Atlantis, we are told by Plato, sank in a single day and night. Of course, that’s not entirely true; I took it, lock, stock, and barrel, right back to Wonderland. It’s still around here somewhere, but one does tend to lose track of things after a couple of millenia. I, Theodosius Augustus Charlemagne Gregorius Iarlaith Bresson, was not always a kingmaker and patron of the great. No, for my first millenia or so, I wanted to make myself a King. And in the early days of antiquity, what greater prize, what juicier fruit to pluck, than the crown of Atlantis?

The source of Atlantis’ power was pure, unfiltered magic; an entire wellspring of the stuff, right under the city itself. To a being such as I, who exists purely for chaos and whimsy, magic may as well be catnip. I had to rule Atlantis, it was as simple as that. Of course, the city already had a King, but even then, I was a rather sharp fellow; I just had to come up with a plan to eclipse said King.

I was not the only one drawn to the city because of magic, but I was, by far, the most civilized. Monsters of every sort, ancient horrors spoken about around the fire on dark nights to scare children, were gravitating towards Atlantis, and the people there, growing soft and plump after years of luxurious and peaceful isolation, needed a hero. Seeing as I was going about as an adventurer, I thought I could serve as that hero.

The city itself was just as you would imagine it; nothing less than magnificent. Built around a series of circular canals, the city’s graceful towers, ziggurats, temples, palaces, and libraries were sheathed in marble and the magic-infused metal of legend, orichalcum, which gleamed in a dozen different colors in the sunlight. In coming to the city, I first made my introductions to the King; a young, and noticeably plump, lion by the name of Leo. We made quite the contrast. In my youth, I was not as refined as I was, a wild child, if you will. Rugged, hard, and powerful, compared to Leo’s soft and delicate demeanor. I couldn’t help but smirk as he ogled my strong body; even back then, I did take pride in my appearance, even if I had not matured into the gentleman you know today. I offered my services, and was given a quest by the young King: to slay a chimera that had been terrorizing the farmlands north of the city. For me, it was a simple task, as I carried a sword of heroes: the Vorpal Sword. It may not be Excalibur, but it was, and is, a fine weapon.

The fight itself was exhilarating. It’s why I got on so well with the Ancient Greeks, aside from the mutual respect for a god-like form; their heroes did occasionally benefit from a tip here or there from my own exploits. That fearsome creature had glutted itself on magic, its belly swollen with the essence. Everything in the Atlantean kingdom, even the crops, were diluted with magic. I was fast enough on my feet to dodge the beast’s lion and goat heads, but the serpentine tail nearly had me. It raked at my fur, adding a rugged scar along my chest, but with a swing across the snake head, I was able to focus my efforts on the lion and goat halves. The lion head roared, the goat tried to gore me with its horns, but then, you remember, I am a cheshire. I split myself in half, confusing the poor creature, then apparated right beneath its belly, popping it like a balloon.

Fret not, it wasn’t as gory as all that; the chimera was more an apparition, so engorged on magic, it was practically slipping away from the real world. I had a feeling I’d see him again in Wonderland, and he would be in a much less hospitable mood. But then, I absorbed the magic left in the air; it was intoxicating. The chimera just glutted himself, but I put that magical essence to much better use. The star-spangled, purple miasma hanging in the air filled my lungs, and I let it sculpt out my chest, each breath advancing my pectoral mass out further and further. I felt my arm ripple and tense, the leather straps of my armor strained against newly engorged biceps.

I stood stronger than ever over the slowly fading remains of my quarry, quickly snapping off one of the goat horns as proof. When I returned to the marble and gold throne room, the King stared in awe; at the fact of my victory or the sight of shoulders twice as broad as his own, I wasn’t entirely sure.

The King held a grand feast that night, not only to celebrate my victory, but to better ascertain the many threats facing Atlantis on all sides. Leo, I noticed, had a healthy appetite. He was much more animated while eating. Magic had clearly seeped into him, as the lion’s fur was white with a decidedly unnatural green tint, which gave the whole thing away. Not that I’m deriding it; I happen to think green is an excellent color for any feline of good breeding. We spoke at great length, and the inklings of a plan began to form. I plied him with his own food, distracting him with the flex of a bicep here, the bouncing of a pec there, and ensuring his plate was always filled with the choicest cuts. He was the King, after all.

A certain hunger I had never felt before gnawed at me as I watched his rich purple robe fill out, that already soft belly rounding out further, filling more of his lap. He was such a small, soft thing, lacking all gravitas and presence a king should have; I would know. I had previously discovered the ambrosial joy of gluttony and hedonism, of being large enough to fill a room, so vast, so oceanic, a team of servants were needed to sate my hunger. After a few centuries of that, however, I had developed my wanderlust, and was just developing a taste for raw strength and unchecked power. Still, I remembered my first love as I watched him stuff his face more with each plateful of meat, fish, fruit, and Atlantean delicacies. I began to realize that, even if my grand plan was to supplant this doughy little lion… that didn’t mean I had to leave him starving by the end. I could make him fat and happy; compliant, if you would prefer a more direct term. I wasn’t aware of it at the time, but I had found a proto-client; it was with this King Leo that I would perfect my craft.

The days passed into weeks, and I won an impressive string of victories for Atlantis, building my esteem and prestige by dispatching monsters and threats to the magnificent city in the day, and hobnobbing the aristocracy and the wizard-like magisters by night. The magic had begun to take effect, as my body grew larger and stronger with each fight. The heroes of the ancient world I had molded, like Gilgamesh and Heracles, were modelled, in a certain sense, of off myself. I towered over the Atlanteans, now, with a physique fit for gods. They clad me in enchanted leathers gilded with orichalcum, as none of their armor could fit me. My arms and chest alone were larger than their champions. I could send my pectorals surging like the ocean waves that ringed the island kingdom, arms that could rise like the mountains that also could move them. And I was lavished with praise and adoration, as I dispatched hydras, dragons, minotaurs, and armies of the undead with increasing ease.

Finally, Atlantis was safe, and was entirely in my debt. With the city secure, I could turn my attention on King Leo; and he, in turn, adored me most of all. The magic that I had infused made me strong, more powerful than I had ever been, but I had to have more. The source of Atlantis’ magic, that glorious wellspring of arcana, was still out of my reach, but the young king alone had the key.

I caught him in the gardens of the palace, just at dusk. In the shadow of colossal statues depicting the kingdom’s greatest rulers, I found him be the water, drinking me in like the heroic vision I was. I had made sure he was well-fed in all these weeks; every victory of mine was celebrated with a grand feast, and I insisted Leo ate his fill. The lion was indeed looking more kingly these days, after a certain fashion. His belly, round and full like a boulder, filled his wide lap. From his sedentary life in the palace, his posterior and jiggling thighs were particularly augmented as they took up the space of two average people. His poor tailor was having trouble, keeping up with silk robes that needed to be widened with each passing week, it seemed. I had, perhaps, added a touch of magic to his food, to keep him perpetually hungry.

“You have been a great boon to the city, Theodosius,” he told me, his tasselled tail slowly swishing behind him.

“I merely look to defend the people of this city. I am Atlantis’ champion after all, no?” I replied, flashing the lion a smile that, accompanied by the slightest flex, sent a blush rising into his round cheeks.

“You are indeed that,” the king said softly, the sheer magic coming off him manifesting itself in flowers blooming, glowing in the twilight. I could just eat him up… but then, that’s not quite how I work.

“I do feel, however… that I could be stronger. One threat yet remains to Atlantis, you know.” We both looked beyond the high walls of the city. The farms had been freed from beasts, the seas tamed, but beyond the city limits loomed a mountain range, in which loomed a bronze titan built by Hephaestus, a curse upon the Kingdom; the colossus, Talos.

Leo frowned. “Surely… surely you’re strong enough to face him?”

“Mm, I fear not,” I purred. “And I happen to know of something that could make me stronger…”

The lion was not stupid. He knew of what I spoke of. “But… the wellspring is meant only for the king and the high priests…”

“It is.” Perhaps I was drunk on what power I already had, or perhaps I had just not yet refined my persuasive talents yet, but I was horribly blunt. Smiling madly, I backed him into a corner, letting my chest rest against the curvature of his belly. “So perhaps I could ask a boon of you. I would ask for your crown. Let me be clear; I could take it, if I wanted. But I would rather give you your heart’s desire, instead. Ask it, and I will make Atlantis safe, forevermore.”

Leo responded faster than I thought he would. “I want to big.”

I blinked. I had already developed a taste for excess and largeness in general, but I had never heard someone speak about it so bluntly before; this was, after all, a very different age. “I beg your pardon?”

“The constant feasting, feeling my clothes grow tighter… I-” Leo cleared his throat. “Since we’re being so… open, I will tell you in as plain language as I can muster. I’ve noticed how large you’ve grown. You were already impressive when you first came, but now… look at you.” The little king had some boldness after all, as he reached out to grab my chest. I flexed, the advancing form of my pecs forcing his fingers apart. He shuddered, then continued. “I want this… but I’m no fighter.”

“You want it badly enough, you would give me your crown?” I arched my brow.

“Will you do it?”

I chuckled, letting my body rumble against the lion’s fat little body, which jiggled in returned. “Of course. But first… you need to show me the Wellspring.”

Leo led me into the bowels of the palace, deep into dark caverns illuminated by blue flame; a sure sign of magic. I could sense the magic, as it made my whiskers stand on end and my tail twist and turn. We came to a walled off archway, the stone adorned with intricate runes in a language not even I understood. The king fumbled in the folds of his tight robe, grunting softly until he presented me with a keystone. I took it, pressing the stone into the wall’s only recess, and watched as light filled the runes, until the entire wall was glowing.

As it fell away, I saw the awe-inspiring wonder of the wellspring. There were no torches njbor any other source of light, save the liquid arcana, lapping gently in a massive silver pool the size of a lake. The cavernous chamber was covered in carvings, depicting the entire history of Atlantis, all the way down to a chubby lion being crowned king… I was already thinking about how they would capture my figure, when I finished leaving my mark on Atlantis.

The former king needn’t give me any instruction. I shrugged off my armor, which, I’m certain, delighted the king to no end. I waded into the arcana, the liquid slightly viscous as it clung to my fur. I breathed in deep, drinking in that delightful aroma, a vaguely electric smell, like rain just after a lightning strike.

I waded in, gulping in the arcana, channelling every bit into my increasingly magnificent form. I didn’t leave the spring empty; I would want a snack later, after all. But as I emerged, casting little Leo in my shadow, I was now a titan. Energy coursed through my engorged veins, arms now wider and thicker than Leo’s belly, legs as strong and solid as the massive columns holding the chamber up, and a back and chest wider than most doors in the palace, my stripes stretched and warped across swells of glorious muscle. As I forced through the yawning arch, my shoulders now scraping against either side, Leo jogged beside me.

“Now… you won’t forget your end of the bargain, yes?”

I looked down at the lion, cupping his soft, chubby chins as I offered him a smile. “Is that any way to speak to your King?” I said, plucking the laurel wreath off his head.

Leo flustered, blushing furiously, put I patted his belly affectionately. “Fret not. When I’m done defending my realm, I’ll return, and fill you to bursting. When I’m done with you, you’ll be bigger than even me right now. Let that thought carry you through my battle with Talos.”

I left him ruminating on the good things to come, and then moved to do battle with the bronze titan. The battle was short and decisive; all in my favor, naturally. Poor old Hephaestus had no idea his little tin soldier would be going up against a cheshire. I felt my strength surge as we crashed into mountains, my arms bending Talos’ metal body as I tensed and flexed my mountainous biceps. I wrestled him to the ground, beating him into submission, then lifted him over head, letting my back spread out like a powerful tide coming in, sucking out the magic that powered the automaton and draining him dry, throwing the metallic husk down with a tremendous boom when I was done.

The thrill of victory and absolute, unchecked power kept me enthralled. Now, I was a true King and conqueror, inhaling and exhaling strength with every breath. My engorged flanks flared out like wings, keeping arms larger than any man of Atlantis aloft. I would not lay eyes on my neck in years; by now, it may as well have been a far flung fairytale entirely swallowed up by a pectoral mass that could have easily been mistaken for a cliff face that shifted with each breath I took. The rolling mountain range that made up my shoulders and traps rippled whenever I shifted, bare arms clenching as my biceps dug against the unyielding mass of pecs. My body was so full of magical power, it forced out the domed mass of my middle; full, blocky abs made to bow out with sheer presence. I was forced to hold my legs wide, such magnificent thighs unable and unwilling to try and share space given how much each required. When I began striding back to Atlantis, I did so with an exaggerated swagger, thighs forced to roll around each other. The short sheet of fabric that kept me decent barely managed its job whenever I might dare shift on my seat. Truly, I was a mountain of muscle, a gargantuan, grinning beast of a cat, and oh, did I love it. I was adorned with what gilded armor could fit upon my body, but, let us be honest: such ornamentation was gilding the lily, when I was already a peerless work of art.

I returned to an absolute triumph. The city was quick to embrace me as their new king, but as much as I loved the adulation, I did, after all, have a bargain to uphold. I cornered Leo, the former king, in the banquet hall, slamming the doors shut. It was just the lion, myself, and a mountain of delectable food. I pinned the lion to his seat, keeping him in place just by clamping my hands on his shoulders, letting my chest rest on top of his mane. “So… it would appear that my new subjects have lavished me with praise and tribue. They gave me all this food, and I couldn’t possibly eat it all… As a loyal subject, Leo, I ask you to take this task upon your shoulders. Unburden your King, won’t you?”

The lion nodded dumbly, staring at the food as his hands absently felt up my arms, resting against the peak of my biceps. “O-of course, sire…”

“Excellent.” With a snap of my fingers, flanks of meat, pastries, loaves of bread drenched in olive oil, fish, whole fruits, baklava, ambrosia, and a dozen other delicacies marched themselves into Leo’s maw. He wasn’t going to leave this room until he ate every last morsel.

“You wanted this, and I am a man of my word,” I whispered in his ear, rubbing his slowly advancing belly as it brushed against the table, folds of fat spilling out of his robe. “And I want you to enjoy every tantalizing bite, every delicious taste… I couldn’t have gotten here without you.” His chair snapped underneath his weight, the lion landing with a whump, but the food continued to come, even as I lifted his rotund form and carried him to a chaise longue, letting his chubby, jiggling thighs and oversized lovehandles sprawl out. “You will spend the rest of your life in constant luxury, this, I promise. I will take very, very good care of you.” I purred as the last bit of food passed his lips, his mane stretched to cover a fine collection of chins, crowning his doughy, pillow-like chest. That magnificent dome, larger than a horse and with the appetite to match, stretched out wider than he was tall, an ocean of fat swathed in fluffy white and mint green fur. His tail swished over a pair of cheeks round and big as chariot wheels.

~0~

“I treated the former king to many, many more feasts. As for myself, my reign as Atlantis’ King was a resounding success, if I do say so myself. Of course, the city was so lousy with magic, I had to relocate it. Don’t worry, of course. No one was hurt during its transfer here to Wonderland… at least, I don’t think so.” Theo’s smile turned thoughtful, maybe even doubtful, but he waved it off. “Ah, not a bother. Anyways… enough ruminating on the past. Let us turn to the present, and your glorious future, my dear sir.”

The cheshire drapes his strong arm over your shoulder, steering you towards an ornate set of doors. You are unsure what to think about the story you’ve just been told, but you decide now is the ideal moment to make absolutely certain that the green, smiling feline will, in fact, be making you a bodybuilder.

His laugh doesn’t reassure you, but Theo seems to think it should. “Oh, my dear sir! I saw in you a lovely bit of potential. I wouldn’t mislead you. A titan of muscle you want, and so you shall be. Just as I was. I do apologize, we’ll just need to step into my bedchamber for a moment, it’s where I left the necessary papers…”

You’re led into a room that, like the rest of Theo’s abode, is huge, ornate, and opulent. Amongst the Louis Quatorze furniture and lavish paintings, you can’t help but notice a giant, white mound at the other end of the room, usually where a bed would be. The cheshire followed your eyes, then purred. “Does he look familiar?”

He led you to the end of the room, then affectionately patted the white blob that loomed over you both, causing an avalanche of furry, white gelatin to wobble, followed by a deep, low, chuffing purr. As you look to the sides of the blob, you notice there are two deposits of fat, reams and layers of it piled on either side, and, just poking out under the folds, fat little toes.

As you piece together who this must be, Theo turns around. “Would you like to say hello? Oh, he does love meeting new people.” He starts leading you around the mountain of lard, past love handles big as your body and a drooping, sagging chest bigger than your car. “He must be brushed three times a day and constantly whines for snacks- terribly high maintenance, but he is the softest bed one could ask for. Oh! I sleep like a kitten.” He leads you, finally, to Leo’s face. His cheeks alone are bigger than your head, his mane unable to hide the layers of chins, charting his growth like the rings in a tree trunk. “Ah, besides, he’s positively radiating magic.” Theo smacked the whale-sized lion’s side, making it jiggle. “I thought all this inactivity would dull his magical potency, but royal blood has a way of shining through. It’s terribly convenient; a good night’s rest, and a little magical boost on the side.” Theo summoned a gigantic bear claw in his hand, still oozing chocolate and caramel.

“Wakey, wakey! I’ve brought a new friend,” Theo declared in a sing-song voice. The only sign that Leo heard him was a low, rumbling purr that sends tremors across his belly, and the slightest movement of his lard-swaddled hand, hanging limply off an overinflated arm. The lion lazily opens his hungry maw, with Theo dropping the giant pastry in.

“Ah…” Theo gives Leo another affectionate pat as he turns back to you. “Would you like to feed him? Some people do get quite a kick out of it… or shall we get straight to business? Unless, of course, you’re having other ideas. Dear Leo here could always use a companion…”