Rounding out my beach-themed stories is this piece from Patreon, where Valoch helps the self-proclaimed King of the Beach get the bod he needs to win big! Illustrated by  cedricbrowning, who is in the middle of a permanent bulking cycle.

Art ©  cedricbrowning
Story © c'est moi

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Vance Mason all but owned the beach, the undisputed king. Everyone knew it; a local bodybuilding legend, there was little he liked more than swaggering across the sand and surf, surveying his domain. A rhino with a shock of black hair and often the tallest, and broadest, man around, he adorned his surging pecs and rippling arms with intricate, tribal tattoos. His titles were many; Mr. Muscle Beach, Mr. USA twice, and, if he was lucky, a Mr. Universe title wasn’t too far in his future. His body was sculpted to a fine degree, and he wanted to show it all off, with finely cut abs, a thick adonis belt rounding out his hips, and legs like huge stone pillars. He wore only a pair of camo-patterned posers; he didn’t want anything covering up the body he worked so hard to perfect, and grow bigger with each passing year.

Flicking off a pair of sunglasses, he surveyed a part of the beach near the free weights where a stage was being constructed. Smirking, he nodded at the banner that was being raised; “First Annual Beach Bod Contest: Looking For the Biggest of Big Kahunas!”

“Heh. Bet they already got my name on the trophy.” Vance grinned. He was easily the biggest bodybuilder on the beach; all his friends knew it, which is why the probably weren’t here. Why waste the time and effort, when Vance was already going to win? Already thinking about what he would do with the prize money, he didn’t notice the nearly spherical fox he collided with, nearly throwing him off balance.

“Sorry, big dude,” Vance muttered, catching the obese vulpine by his pudgy arm, then pulling him upright; his belly was still sloshing. “What’re you doing here? Snack bar’s, like, over there.”

The fox huffed, squeezing against his love handles, trying and failing to reach around his own bulbous gut to dust off his long-suffering trunks. “This is the Beach Bod contest, right?”

“Yeah, and you’re already lookin’ at the Biggest Kahuna,” Vance smirked, flexing his arm, his bicep surging bigger than the fox’s head, multiple chins and all.

“Oh, really? How much do you weigh?” he asked.

“Three fifty,” Vance said with pride. “But I already bench, like, twice that.”

“Oh…” the fox nodded, suddenly looking at the rhino like he was the one lost. “Yeah, that… that’s a good start. You might even get an honorable mention.”

Vance scoffed, a little annoyed. Who was this fat bucket of lard to talk to him like that? “Uh, bro, I’m the king of this beach, okay? Ask anyone. They asked for the biggest and the baddest for this contest, so here I am.”

“They asked for the biggest only,” the fox said. “I weigh four twenty.” He smacked his gelatinous side, making his whole torso wobble. “In this contest, that means I beat you, Dumbbell.”

“You couldn’t beat me in anything, fatass!” Vance snarled, prodding the fox’s gut. “What kind of judge would pick you over me?” The rhino didn’t see the other contestants, half a dozen rotund, bouncing guts closing in around him. “I’m the king of this beach, and I can beat all you tubs of lard, and I could do it bench pressing- hey! Hey!”

“Get out of here, Dumbbell!” one of the larger contestants, a tiger built like a sumo, gut-checked the rhino, forcing Vance back. The fox and the others joined in, a tidal wave of fat pushing the musclebound pacyhderm out of the contest staging area. “This is our day! Come back when you eat more than wheat germ and grilled chicken, featherweight.”

Stumbling back, Vance snorted, flexing his swollen biceps and thumping his puffed up chest. “Hrmph! Buncha fatasses think they can push me around?” Vance kicked the sand, muttering darkly to himself. He spotted what looked like an otter staring at him, short, but wide as he was tall- another fatty.

“What’re you lookin’ at, doughball?”

“O-oh!” the otter balked as the hulking rhino loomed over him. He had almost entirely black fur, save for neon green stripes, centered around a pentagram dominating his nearly spherical gut, with little horns and wings sticking out. “I’m sorry, just… you don’t look like the rest of the guys around here.” He cocked his head. “How’d you get your middle to do that?”

“Do what, shortstack?” Vance grumbled.

“Y’know, these!” The strange otter poked Vance’s middle, running a finger over his well-defined abs. “Woah, they’re hard, too.”

The bodybuilder arched his brow. “Seriously, little dude? You’ve never seen abs?” He scoffed, palming his fist and tensing his powerful arms. “It figures, if you spend all your time around these lardos. Who the hell do they think they are? They think I’m not good enough for their stupid contest.”

“Oh, the Beach Bod contest? It looks like it’ll be fun!” the otter grinned. “Don’t you think so?”

The rhino scoffed. “Dude, whatever.”

His short companion frowned. “You don’t seem happy. Is it because of your obs? Do they hurt?”

Vance smacked his forehead. “Abs, little dude. Look, I’ve been King of this beach for years. I always win the contests on this beach, and I’m not gonna let a bunch of fatasses take that from me!”

The otter scratched his second chin. “Well, isn’t it fun just to compete?”

“Pfft!” Vance laughed, his muscled chest bouncing. “Dude, who even are you?”

“Valoch,” the otter offered his hand, horribly unaware. “But people seem to like calling me Val. Pleased to meet ya!”

“Yeah. Vance.” The rhino took the hand, then sighed. “Man, this fucking contest… I can’t believe some obese fox is gonna take my first prize.”

“You really want to win this contest?”

“Val, dude.” Vance flexed his arms, his biceps surging to the size of watermelons. “Look at this bod. I deserve to win. You ever seen anyone as fuckin’ swole as me?”

“Uhm… I guess not?”

Vance nodded. “Right? I spent years working out. Dude, I almost dropped out of high school to work out in the gym more. If anyone deserves to win, it’s me! I’m the biggest kahuna there is.”

“So…” Val was thinking for a moment. “If you won the contest, that’d make you happy?”

“Uh, duh.”

“Oh, well that’s great!” Val suddenly scampered up Vance’s huge back, scaling the swells of muscle like a rock wall. Vance braced himself, but was surprised that it felt like the roly-poly otter… thing weighed nothing. He found a perch on the rhino’s broad shoulder. “I’m, uh, sorta in the business of making people happy. And I think I know how to help you win that contest!”

“Oh yeah? How’s that?”

Val had an odd little smile dimpling his cheeks. “Well… what’s your favorite food?”

Vance frowned, but still scratched his chin. “Burritos are always cool.”

The otter’s grin grew wider, causing the rhino to jump back as the pentagram on his belly glowed, and suddenly, a huge burrito appeared in his hand. “Ta-daa!”

The rhino’s jaw dropped, staring at it. “You can do that, little dude?”

Val pushed the burrito into the rhino’s hands. “Try it! It should be good, honest.”

Frowning a bit and looking at the stuffed tortilla nervously, Vance took a bite, and he was floored by the taste. It was everything he loved in a burrito; just spicy enough for a bit of a kick, loaded with cheese and guacamole, it was perfect for the rhino.

“Wow, little dude, that was-“

“Want another?” Val asked, smiling innocently and holding up another burrito.
Vance grabbed it, wolfing it down. Dealing with all those fatties made him forget how hungry he was! Two burritos should have been enough for him, but he had to have more, grabbing the black and green otter, tucking him under his arm. “Val, you are awesome! But how’re burritos gonna help me win?”

“Well…” Val shrugged. “I kinda… was gonna feed you until you got bigger than the other contestants. That would make you win… right?” The otter flinched, feeling the rhino’s powerful bicep dig into his love handles. “PleasedonthurtmeIjustwantedtohelp-“

“Woah, no, bro…” Vance was thinking deeply, something he wasn’t really used to; he had to stop when he got a headache. “I think I like it, little dude.”

Val blinked. “Wait… you’re serious?”

“I want to win, bro. I’ll call it an early bulking cycle. How much time we got, ‘til the contest starts?”

“Uh… four hours, I think?”

“Awesome! That’s plenty of time. Blow me up like a blimp, little dude.”

Sitting at a picnic table with Vance, Val wasn’t quite sure how to take all this. He didn’t normally people asking him to help out on weight, but if it made the rhino happy…

Thanks to the curious properties of a gluttony demon’s summoned food, the rhino’s open me may as well have been a black hole. Burritos were eventually phased out for rolled up pizzas, ice cream, footlong hot dogs, burgers, anything Val could think of as the rhino’s swollen middle began to bulge out, burying his abs in an avalanche of fat. Another curious property of Val’s cuisine is just how fast it seemed to melt away into fat, the rhino’s waist slowly rising like a soufflé, and just as fluffy as one, too. His defined muscles didn’t stand a chance; they were still there, somewhere, but the fat deposits on his arms wobbled as he lunged for more food, his tattoos stretching out as warping as his pecs inflated and sagged like two huge water balloons. At some point, his posers snapped off, his waist and rump overflowing them; but thankfully by that point, his gut had grown to the size of a keg, and the overhang filling his lap protected his modesty.

Three hours of constant binging left Vance panting for breath, and Valoch was spent from doing so much summoning.

Finally catching his breath, Vance found the strength to stand, wobbling thighs rollin off one another as he waddled to steady himself, his belly pressing down on top of Val. “Well, little dude? How do I look?”

Valoch stumbled back, staring up at the rhino that was now wider than he was tall. “Like… you’re gonna win the contest and be happy?”

The rhino chuckled, still strong enough to scoop Valoch up in his arm, smothering him in teams of fat between a flabby arm and overflowing love handles. “You got it, bro.”

A few minutes later, there was a small tremor around the Beach Bod contest as what appeared to be a whale with a horn came hurtling toward the weigh-in area. “Outta my way, pipsqueaks! The real big Kahuna is coming through!”

The same fox that had belly-checked Vance out of the contest earlier in the day suddenly felt several hundred pounds of flab knock into him, nearly pushing him to the ground. “Hah, sorry, little dude, I didn’t see ya down there.”

The fox regained his footing, then looked up, his jaw dropping. “You?”

“Heh. It’s Vance Mason, shortstack. I’m here to defend my title.” The rhino smacked a gut the size of a boat, sending rippling waves of grey fat, like the ocean just a few feet away. The rhino sat in smug satisfaction as his heavy body spilled outward. His muzzle was pinched by his swollen cheeks, vision nearly blocked by them along with his horn. Tattoos once warped when he flexed were now stretched helplessly by his fattened form, all supported by legs also wider than they were long, thighs jiggling like water balloons.

Vance chuckled, waddling past the fox with relative ease, pushing others aside as he stepped up to the industrial-grade scale meant to weigh all the contestants. The metal groaned as the rhino exposed his full, massive weight, and smirked as the numbers continued to climb. Before it finished, he turned back around and flexed, curling a once beefy arm. His limb was padded with heavy fat like the rest of him, but it still caused Val to tumble off his rounded shoulder, leaving the black and green otter dangling from his wobbling tricep.

“So, lightweights, who wants to get me my trophy? And grab a hot dog! I’m starving.”