Here’s the full version of the weight gain sequence I did! Hope you all enjoy!

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Full Sequence - Current Page

(Edit: Fixed a bunch of spelling and grammar errors.)
—-

Anthony arrived home at around 10 o’clock, and after having such a long day at the office, all he wanted to do was go to sleep. As he was getting ready for bed, he glanced over to the dusty scale in the corner of his the bathroom. He remembered receiving it as from a coupon in the paper, courtesy of “Alchem Industries,” or something like that. He hadn’t used it the entire time he’d lived in this place.

He wasn’t worried about his weight at all, but for some reason, once he finished brushing his teeth, he had the inexplicable urge to use the scale. The lean goat stood on the slick looking device. He was somewhat startled when a mechanical voice said, “143 pounds.”

*Huh. Neat.* He thought to himself. Suddenly, a light jolt went up through his spine, making him shiver. He didn’t put much thought into the unexpected sensation, as his belly let forth a light growl. *I could really go for a late night snack.* He couldn’t explain why, but after washing down that family-size bag of Doritos with a liter of cola, Anthony felt compelled too much on a few snack cakes. What could he say? He was hungry.

—-

About one week after Anthony first stepped on the scale, he felt compelled to do the same again. He had just finished off that pack of cookies, but before brushing his teeth, decided to check his weight. The goat had changed a bit over the course of the week, his trim waistline having given way to a soft potbelly. The rest of his body was still somewhat lean, but that wouldn’t last for long.

He placed both of his hooves on the device and read his weight. His reading was made redundant as the same artificial voice said, “198 pounds.”

Anthony was somewhat surprised, but he knew he should feel a whole lot more than surprise. He should’ve felt flabbergasted, horrified, humiliated! But he didn’t. Again, he shivered as a shock went throughout his spine. But he didn’t care. He felt... good. He had really gained 55 pounds in a week. Scientifically, that should’ve been impossible. He looked down at his gut, not with disgust or hatred, but rather pride. *Why on Earth do I feel this way? What on Earth is wrong with me?*

That was when his prideful smirk soured slightly, being replaced with disappointment. But, this disappointment was not spawned from a place of logic. It was spawned from desire. He felt... small. He prodded his flabby potbelly, cursing the fact that he carried his weight so well. It really should look a little rounder, especially at this weight. HE should look a little rounder.

*What? No, that’s crazy. I’m just tired. This is probably all just some sort of nutty dream.* He got ready for bed and went to sleep as quickly as he could. His dreaming would not stop the snacks, however. If anything, it only made things worse.

*Ughhhhh... Urp...* The next morning, he woke up on the kitchen floor in a state of confusion. *What- Why are there three empty ice cream tubs next to me - Oh. Oh, no.* He jiggled his pleasantly plump stomach with one hand, a look of drowsy unease on his face. *This is wrong - I need help - I need, I need...*

*More...*

—-

As Anthony struggled to undo the tight buttons of his suit, he couldn’t stop shaking. He had tried putting off using the scale for as long as possible, but he couldn’t wait any longer. Even though that device was clearly responsible for this... situation, his logical side wanted to know how heavy he had gotten, and his sinful side REALLY wanted to know how heavy he had gotten.

It had been a week and a half since he last used the scale. Although his co-workers had been glancing every subtly the week before, his ballooning form had become a subject of frequent discussion at the office. Initially, his fellow graphic designers were polite enough to keep their comments somewhat hushed.

“Can you believe that?”
“He really got THAT big THAT fast?”
“How is that even possible!?”
“No clue.”
“Is it just me, or does he look kinda cute?”
“Just you.”

The subtly only lasted so long. Eventually, it reached the point where they would make the comments right to his face.
“Hey, dude, you’re not planning to keep this up, right? Because the floor can only handle so much heft.”
“Jesus, man, if you want us to pitch in for your new suit, all you need to is ask.”

The limber panther secretary, Martin, probably wasn’t expecting Anthony to take him up on that offer. Interestingly enough, he paid for the suit. Of course, that suit is the one that barely fits now. Go figure.

Anthony actually didn’t mind the comments. In fact, he found them to be kinda funny. He didn’t just find them funny... he found them... encouraging. Their jeers and jokes were part of the reason he was so excited to step on the scale.

He was quivering with anticipation as he devoured all of the fast food. He had gotten three double bacon cheeseburgers, two extra large fries, and two extra large milkshakes. After one burger, his excitement gave in. He quickly stood up, causing his exposed, doughy belly to jiggle over the band of his blue sleeping pants. He was about to run to the scale, but the growling of his massive stomach interrupted him. *Are you kidding me? Fine.* Before running off, he grabbed the closest milkshake, slurping on it as he speed walked to the bathroom.

He stopped drinking the milkshake for a moment, as he stepped onto the scale. His attempts to read the scale were even more difficult this time around, but the faithful device happily chirped out the reading. “278 pounds!” It said it’s monotone voice changing to a much more animated variant.

278 pounds

Anthony couldn’t stop grinning as he felt the familiar shock irritate his back. He had gained 80 pounds in a week and a half. He could barely contain his excitement as he bent over to double check the number. Suddenly, he had one of the strangest urges yet. He threw the lid off of the nearly full milkshake and began chugging it as fast as possible. In under a minute, there was nothing left of the milkshake aside from the light trickle of chocolate dripping from his maw.

In a blind fury, he ran back to the table and devoured everything as fast as he could. The entire time, he kept repeating his instinctual goal: *400 in a week. 400 in a week.* It was with this goal in mind that he picked up his cellphone, and began ordering as much as he could from the Chinese place down the road. “Mmmf- yes, 3 orders of that, 6 of that, 7 of this - heh, yes it’s, for a *BURP* party, I suppose. Thanks!” Within 3 minutes he finished off his fast food and set about to clean out the cupboards of all the junk he could.

By the time delivery got there, he had eaten at least 3 bags of cookies. “*URP,* Thanks bud! Have a good one!” He said as he took the heavy bags from the slightly disturbed fox delivery man.

Finally, after another 30 minutes, his feast was finished. His overinflated beachball of a belly was as tight as a drum and he felt about ready to burst. But more than that, he felt - amazing. As he draped himself into bed and descended into his food coma, he could only think of one thing.

*400*

—-

On the first day of the week, after having a very hearty breakfast of 8 pancakes, 10 eggs, and 20 strips of bacon, Anthony donned his ill-fitting suit and left for work. Despite how massive he had become, he still maintained his normal walking speed along the mile-long trek from his house to the office.

Even though he had to deal with all of the flab clinging to his arms, legs, rump, and of course, belly, he felt better than ever. In fact, he was probably walking a little faster on the way to work. By the time he saw the Schmidt Design sign in the distance, he had barely broken a sweat.

Once he came inside, however, the most peculiar thing occurred. That panther secretary, Martin, came up to his office while Anthony was working on a soda advertisement and said, “Hey, Anthony! Good to see you. So, I see that suit is... um... lookin’ a bit small.”

The doughy goat laughed heartily, and said, “Yes, I suppose it is heh. Cut me some slack though, still got two of these buttons done up though, pal.”

Martin chuckled, before making an... interesting offer. “So, needless to say, you could use a new suit. Listen, I’d be willing to get you another one.”

Anthony’s plush cheeks reddened, before he said, “Oh, no Martin, I can’t ask you to pay for anymore. You’ve already been more help than I could ask for.”

“Oh, no worries, money isn’t even a problem! My one uncle is a tailor, so he gives me free access to the defective clothing.” Anthony, raised an eyebrow, suddenly realizing why there was that little tear on that back.

Martin picked up on Anthony’s doubt, quickly adding, “Not that there’s anything terribly wrong with them, that is! They’re just not... perfect. But, I can get you as many as you’d like, I just need to ask for one thing in return.”

Anthony smirked and said, “What’s this one thing?”

Martin chuckled anxiously, his gaze fixed on Anthony’s poorly hidden gut. “Can I... touch it?”

Anthony furrowed his brow in confusion, mouth slightly agape in an inquisitive manner. “It’s just... I need to know if it’s real. I need to know if you really got this... big in just under three weeks. Please.” Martin said, glancing up at Antony’s eyes, confusion, and curiosity plainly visible in the feline’s eyes.

There was a brief moment of tense, heavy silence between them.

“Sure.”

“What?”

“Go ahead, pal. Hell, part of me still isn’t sure this is real. I kinda want to know too.”

Martin stood motionless for a moment, gazing at the sliver of white visible beneath Anthony’s tight undershirt. Slowly, he extended his hand, and poked the flabby overhang, his hand sinking in a good three inches before springing back out. The panther blinked a few times, his mouth agape.

“W-Wow. So. This is the road you want to go down, dude?”

The goat looked unsure for a moment. He glanced at his pudgy, soft form. *What am I doing?*

“Don’t stop.”

The goat looked back at Martin, astonishment plainly displayed across his face. Martin seemed just as surprised he said that as Anthony, if not more so. The goat suddenly gently gripped Martin, before hugging him tightly. Martin could feel himself sinking into the impenetrable wall of goat pudge before him. This was an undoubtedly tense moment for the two men. Anthony released Martin, grinning warmly as he said, “Thank you, man. You really don’t know how much that means to me. Sorry if that was a little... rude.”

“No problem, dude. Look, if you ever need help with anything, let me know.”

And, with that, Martin left, leaving the door slightly agape. As soon as Anthony got back to work, Martin pokes his head back in, before whispering, “By the way, there are eight boxes of donuts in the broom closet on the fourth floor. Linda stashed them there for an office party. Should they happen to go... missing, I would be more than happy to cover for the damages.”

Anthony sat there for a moment, before smirking. *Linda will just have to forgive him.*

—-

After a week of being stuffed to the brim on a nearly constant basis (with some help from a certain panther), Anthony was ready. The air was still, the intense anticipation egging the lard-laden goat on as he stepped onto the scale. He didn’t even bother trying to read the scale this time. After one moment, a few simple notes played from the scale, before it said, “Congratulations You weigh 425 pounds!”

Anthony jumped slightly, pumping his fist into the air, slapping his belly heartily simultaneously, before saying, “Yes! I did it! Oh my lord, I actually did it!” This movement caused his heavily torn sleeping pants to tear just a little more.

His joy faded for a moment as the voice of reason chimed in again. *Why exactly did I have this goal again -* Logic and reason were rudely interrupted by another shock. This one was much different than the rest though. Furrowing his brow, Anthony picked up his cellphone from the bathroom sink. “Hey, Martin? Sorry to bug you so late, but could you come over to my house? Great, thanks.”

—-

“Did you seriously call me for this?” The panther raised an eyebrow, the light orange tuft of hair on the black-furred panther’s bead only enhancing his judgemental attitude.

“Just trust me, dude,” Anthony said, a wide grin on his face.

The panther sighed, “Fine.”

Martin stepped onto the scale. Returning to its neutral tone, the scale read out, “123 pounds.” The panther was needless to say, unsurprised. His lithe figure didn’t exactly hold much weight. “I don’t see what the point of that was,” Anthony smiled as he noticed the panther’s neck twitch every so slightly, “but I hope you’re happy-“ Martin was interrupted as his belly let out a low growl. Martin placed a hand on his midsection, hunger flashing across his eyes.

“Hey, didn’t you say there was a pizza place down the street?”