A story commission for  Volkanwolf

Art (C)  zairiza, a Christmas gift that Volkan surprised me with ^^

Features:

Volkan  Volkanwolf (dragon form)

Sini  xsini

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You can read the PDF version of the story here

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All Tourists Must Fall to Dragon Bellies

Volkan, a 16’-tall, green four-legged dragon with a white mane and a white underbelly, finished unpacking with Sini, a 13’-tall black-and-purple four-legged dragon, in the bamboo, thatched-roof hotel shack. The green weighed 11,000 pounds because of his extra height, pudge-padded frame and soft mound of belly. Sini weighed only 6,000 pounds with a teasing finish of rotundness to his purple gut. After a long, delayed flight on an airplane for dragons⁠—because who wants to flap overseas with all their baggage?⁠—they were starving, even more so than usual.

“You ready to see what this island has to offer?” Sini crooned. He leaned against his lover, and they rubbed cheeks.

“I’m ready to see you wreck your waistline … Today you and I are gonna invent a whole new weight class.” Volkan huffed at the thought, blowing a few locks of mane out of his sapphire eyes. “I can’t wait to de-crowd the beach. After we appetize our guts with a couple buffet plates, anyway …” The two swung their entwined tails and waltzed down the steps of the shack onto a grass bed encircled by other shacks, then headed along a dirt trail of palm trees toward the resort buffet hall: an open structure on a bamboo platform raised over the jade-turquoise waters of the inlet. The structure had a carousel-like curvature behind its beams.

At a bar, Sini and Volkan strode in line, inhaling the scents of islander food dreamily, not eating any of the other tourists just yet: waiting until after everyone was well-fed for that. They each nipped up a hot plate then scooped up the desired entrees. At a tall table for standing they set down their plates, which were piled with seafood, local fruits and vegetables. Each pile stood almost as tall as either dragon. Any taller, and they would have grazed the ceiling, and all manners of crawdads, crabs, oysters, coconuts, ika mata, curried eke, bowls of taro leaves in coconut cream, cooked fruit pudding, barbecued eel, bananas, pawpaw and rice-clumps would have come toppling down.

Both mouths chomped and gulped and slurped and slathered, shortening the respective food-mountain. They would lick a smear of tartar sauce and teriyaki and coconut cream off of each other’s snouts, rumbling lovingly; then, they would pack down another mouthful of rich, savory, salty assortments. Soft, crunchy, squishy and chewy foods—the variation agreed with their taste buds. Even though the banquet was more than heavenly enough to prompt savoring, they still hoarded the food in their bellies hurriedly. A buffet meant for normies, after all, was, for the pair of village-depopulating dragons, no more than a flavor-sampling sidequest: something that bought the islanders some time to evacuate the island before the dragons cleaned their plates, focused their hungers elsewhere and put everyone else on the endangered list. Though, unfortunately for the tourists and natives, no one knew that they had been bought time or that they even needed bought time.

“Ooouuuuuuuuwwwrrrhhhhap!” Volkan’s burp flung his longitudinal lips into an “O”-shape. The burp upturned Sini’s plate, which strafed his snout with live mahi mahi and lobsters. Basking in the malachite belch-cloud, Sini blushed, then shuddered at the sound of the plate shattering behind. He bowed his nose and huffed a faint purple cloud of arousal. “Mmmh, I’m sorry babe, were you still working on that?”

Sini raised his head, and his blush was fired—replaced with a cocky smile. “Actually, you’re plodding a little bit behind me. That was my second plate, slowpoke~” He bumped snouts with Volkan, then pushed the blushy green back with a teasing look and fluttered his half-lidded eyes.

Then, “BbUHUUUUUUUWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPP!”

Beams of bamboo split in half. Guard-rails splintered. A spout of water drizzled over the buoyant wreckage of half of the buffet hall, welcoming Volkan into the ocean. A carpet of bubbles trailed the green. He sank to the shallow end of the seafloor and outed a dreamy huff of bubbles.

A poisonous purple stench rose from the wartorn eaves. Around Sini (he was cackling on his own acrid exhaust), tourists gagged and toddled out of the freshly-ramshackle buffet hall, leaving him to stride to the counter. Now that I’ve expelled some bloat and made some room for dessert … he thought, and then thrust some of his just-a-souvenir belly pudge onto the side of the bar where a vulpine bartender was cowering.

“While I know you don’t typically serve dessert till round nine, perhaps you could make an exception. Especially considering you look kind of like a pumpkin spice gingerbread to me?” The words were a sweet growl. He snorted a cloud of hypnotic breath, immersing the bartender in his metabolically harsh breath. The acrid lavender carried undertones of the passengers he’d smelted down on the international flight.

And that was all it took for pudding cakes and taro ice cream to be served in broad daylight.

*

When Sini strode down the beach looking for Volkan, he went the wrong way. A terse, tyrannical belch thumped the beach from behind him, echoing loud enough for a quarter of the thirty-mile-wide island to hear. The clamor reached even the crest of the great, lush hill above the shacks of hotels. Coconuts dropped. Screams tangled and scattered. Following the first belch were a couple of hearty ones, which not only sounded closer; they basted the black-and-purple’s behind with heat and spittle. He turned around and blushed at the belly Volkan already sported, the belly colored and shaped like a big fat rice ball.

“HrooaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHPP! Haah~ Get a good look at this gut … I’ve already eaten 32 beach-goers … What wah—gulp—was that about me needing to—guwlp—catch up to you?”

Even as Volkan approached Sini, he was wolfing down a pair of canines in flowery swimwear. His pot belly dropped below his knees and intruded on his leg space. Screams of anguish flitted from the compacted party across the constricting flesh-cavern. Digestive acids sloshed and coated the furball of fodder. Champagne-gold hissed and sputtered and reared steam that smelled of roasted carnivores, herbivores and omnivores. Pelts smoldered away and exposed sinew and muscle structures. The owners melted into a sticky, biodiverse mush to resemble a giant glob of rainbow gelato.

“You hear that, babe?” Volkan reared on his hinds then shoved Sini’s snout against the soft, superheated pot of digestion, volleying the black’s ears with the noises of hellish emotions amid a merciless hyper-metabolism. “Seems like you should be catching up to meeaaaaaaaaaaeeeeeeeEEEEHHEEERRRRRrrrurawrp!”

Sini blushed and found himself unable to move his face from the gyres of gurgly, scaled flesh. Meaty clouds masticated around his head, while the green digested almost half his own body weight. He did this in something like 45 seconds to a slew of crude, evolving belches. The green’s stomach got done processing the tourists faster than any of those tourists got done with the lunch special of the day. 80% of their weight was burned into energy and gas. The leftover 20% layered the green’s empty, round tummy with a light winter coat of soft, supple flesh, taking him to 12,220 pounds.

Chuffing a little, Sini snapped out of his reverie, then bounded off to feed himself and catch up. But Volkan padded alongside him and outran him, and he pounced at Sini’s first target. A slurp sent a kobold tail down his throat, and he outed a belch which toppled Sini. He stepped over the dazed dragon and rounded up another group of screaming runners, swallowing them with ease, bulking out his belly further.

“Mmmh … you’re making this little contest too easy, bawrUUUURRRRRRRRBBBbbbbe!”

Volkan licked his lips at another gang of food. He was about to go for another helping when Sini leapt on him, then leapfrogged off of him to launch himself at the scrumptious dozen. For the first time that day, shrieks resounded from his own, purple ventral orb, the stomach sagging and clocking into work with gurgles. He loped into a barbecue area then prowled around eating whoever he pleased. When his mate tried to eat the ones nearby, Sini playfully tackled him aside and stole each prey with a loud swallow. His belly burgeoned out and accrued pudge to a rapid digestion. He would use his weight-gaining haunches to kick Volkan back whenever the green tried to race ahead, then would cram more tee-shirted sliders into his ovular oven. More islanders and guests would be removed from the world: turned into yet another lethargic thunder-belch of pollutant; either that, or converted into dragon dough on his thumping rump and hammock underside.

“As I was saying,” Sini said, “you’ll have to fill out your form a little faster to match me~”

After trudging from the BBQ pit to the shallows of the sea, he trotted into the waves then swam like a canine an arrow-shot out. The waves enveloped him, and then he smeared the ocean surface with bubbles of an underwater struggle. A couple of muffled lofi burps grumbled through the ground ashore. His jaws breached the surface to show off the floundering tail of his fourth dolphin in a row.

Wading out of the sea, he urped monstrously. He wore a whole new garment of dragon-fat. His body weighed 9,020 pounds after burning off 80% of the 13,100 pounds he’d shoveled into his paunchy incinerator. Folds of lush flesh cushioned his throat, thighs and tail and endowed his curves with excessive folds. The dragon now dwarfed Volkan in thickness relative to height.

Rumbling, the two dragons pressed lips and squished their bodies together as they strode down the beach, making out in between the effortless scoops-up of snackrifices who were clearly in turmoil which contrasted the dragons’ leisurely pleasure. Forceful borborygmi broke free from their colliding midriffs. Their bellies dragged, and their flanks blimped out to the pathetic squirms of dozens who had no other option but to digest for the two superior beings. To contribute to the corpulence of each natural disaster. To fuel the crude burps with which they turned their surrounds into a stomach simulation.

Into the center of a circle of hotel-shacks Volkan flopped. He lay on a bed of grass, panting from the weight and the cramps of his swollen tum. This gave Sini time to patrol the surrounding shacks, to pull out of each of them a family. Time and again, he would come to Volkan to stuff an ensemble down the green’s greedy mouth: to encourage the growth of the Volkan’s hillock belly and neck folds and haunch baggage. The creamy belly sagged more overbearingly over the expansive tail with every death-sentencing gllOORrrp.

Behind the mates, a four-legged red dragon winged down down. He strode up and puffed out his chest dutifully. If no one else would stick up for the little folk, he would have to. “Hey!” He tapped Sini’s shoulder with the intent to give him a stern talk about empathy and karma; but without even losing a beat in stuffing Volkan’s face, Sini grabbed the red handpaw, tugged the red over his shoulder. “W-wait,” the red cried. “No, I’m here to tell you—!” Ignoring the plead, Volkan latched his jaws around the worthless red-scaled airbag and moaned, his jaws pulsating, working with his tireless throat to cannibalize the dragon to add to the ventral stew of death.

Packaging that spiky tail into a doughy wrapping of insignificant bulges, Volkan slurped off the draconic flavor, then gaped in pure euphoria. “Ohhh … UuuUUUUUUUUWWWOOOOOOOOOOORRrrrp!! Thanks for offering yourself up, red … You’re gonna be a perfect upgrade to my HUHEEAAP hips.”

Sini sniggered. “The twerp had a purpose after all …” He raised another wad of whimpering prey-food in his handpaws, then thrust it down Volkan’s jowls, cutting off further speech from the green.

Once Volkan gulped to clear his throat, he chuffed. “Red’s not faring too well, is he? Already starting to cushion my ass and bbbuooOOOoooOROROORORRRrrrrrrkk … uuuurrRRRRRRRrrrrrmph … gghuuuuuueeeaAAAAAAAAAAAAHHhhhhhhhhhhuuuuuppp! HhhHHRRRRrrrrggghhnk … What was I saying? Hmmmh …”

Having ingested 46,450 more pounds of prey since the last count (about 15,000 pounds of that thanks to the smelted red dragon and the rest thanks to 223 tourists), Volkan burbled every one of the bellied twerps into body-blubber and gaseous bloat. He rounded out more. He reached 21,510 pounds, double his original weight. The saggy folds of his neck and thighs and tail inflated until they resembled great bread loaves.

“RuurrrrrrrruuuuuuuooOOoooOOOoooorrrroooOOOAAAHHP!!!” The awesome power of his G.I. tract sheared all scales and flesh from the beta dragon’s skeleton. His cheeks puffed out. A second belch mandated a full set of dragon bones of a museum-grade polish to clatter down around purple-gut’s feet.

Of course the hypnotic green stench of those cathartic belches blanketed the shack-area. Hundreds of tourists were enthralled and ushered towards the pair of dragons, along with a quadruped gold dragon. The gold winged down from the sky, and Sini ensnared his anterior in the cave-like threshold of his jaws. He moaned and flexed his jowls time and again to slide the gold down. He closed the hatch, trapping the reptilian take-n’-bake in the chute which led down to a miasmic deep-fryer. Desperately, the gold clawed and wheezed fire, but he only managed to discomfort the belly with smoke and heat enough to prompt a “BWWWWUHHHEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHP!!!” of caustic winds. The plethoric death-burp catapulted smoking dragon bones and introduced them to seashells. All in all, it had only taken Sini 31 seconds to eat him and 17 seconds to turn him into the heap of roasted marrow seen here. Some of the charred bones—too drenched in stomach acid—weighed too much to be flung high and just rolled out of the jaw-sides with a lethargic rattling.

“Urh, you really shouldn’t have—uuuuUUURRRHk! OOooOooOOOAAAARRRRRRWWWUUUUURROOOOAAAAPP!! HRRK … GROOOOAAUUUUGHHHKKkk gllluuUUUUrrrrrppk grReEEAEAHPp!!”

Still burping out wish-bones of the dragon tender (a menu item based on the world-renowned ‘chicken tender’), Sini galumphed through the haze of his own noxious reactor, snarfing up mesmerized walkers left and right; gulping them down between brusque, grunted burps. Soon his purple belly was compressing and springing on the tropic soil with each step. That forced him off of his tippy-claws, and he had to flap his wings toward the earth just to keep his chops at snacking level. Jiggling in expansion, his belly blimped out to parade behind his haunches and invade the personal space of his tail-base.

Thirty new gut-tenants for the purple since we last counted … 50, 70, 110 … He quickly tripled—no (this just in), quadrupled—his original weight, making more marshmallowy his stompers and more cardiovascularly concerning the rolls of his throat. Meanwhile, Volkan ate at a similar rate, mirroring Sini’s advance through the field of trooping dragon-treats astride his own snowball of belly, which—fittingly, given that prose choice—was snowballing in size.

Evacuation alerts sounded for a full minute over the hotel’s many complexes of the island. But someone in H.Q. must have decided that the deplorable deep belches and the dual patrols of deranged belly ruckus gave people fair warning enough—not to mention, they drowned out the alerts—so all alerts eventually clicked off.

After eating three hundred more meals since Volkan finished digesting the red, Sini was sucking in his belly enough to trudge toward the seaside airport. A ruby dragon and a sapphire dragon swooped down before him with altruistic intent. Each of them stood a few feet taller than him. Grinding their jaws, they charged elemental breath weapons and prowled toward him, and Sini scented fire and frost on their breaths.

“Spice and mint, a nice duo to cleanse my palate.”

He butted their heads together. The pair looked wide-eyed when he double-stuffed his jowls before proceeding to drag the two of them down his gullet. Distending his mouth with their squishing rotund bellies, Sini was multitasking, grabbing paw-fuls of people running along the airstrip and wedging them between the dragons’ ventral scales. The people commuted down to his gastric walls on the subway that was the dragon sandwich. Soon the non-dragons melted like a colorful marshmallow filling between the graham crackers of a s’mores. The quagmire purple smelted away fur, skin and flesh. Mushroom clouds of gas eructed from the pool and suffocated the crumpled beasts-of-flight before acid deltas flowed through the cracks in their scales, infiltrating their armor.

“BLUWRP, URWOOOOOOOOOOOP … You boys were just dying to end your ancient family lineages, were UWWHHHHHHHHHHHHHOP weren’t you? Well, if you weren’t before, you are dying to end them now … heheh HEHWWWHHOOOOOOOUUUUURRRRRHP!!!”

Another 30 seconds and a half-dozen gulps of food-clusters later, and Sini was belching cones of colorful scales and bones of his inferior distant relatives on his way to a private jet. He stuck his handpaw through the jet door then pawed out a couple of squealing aristocrats, before switching their seats to a more acidic cabin. “RRRLLLLOOOoOOOOAHHPP!” With that slurred, dragonbone-ejecting belch, he clouded the jet interior with enough mind poisons to convince the remaining passengers to unboard into his gullet. Ending their trip meant that the following belches ejected suits, handbags, dress shoes and the meatily corrupted scents of perfumes and colognes.

Each of the kingly, pollution-throwing eructions exploded more powerfully and gratingly than the previous ones, quaking with the clamour of a giant, broken kitchen sink garbage disposal. Odors of the eliminated morsels gassed private jets. The heat disintegrated steel wings and wheels of aluminum alloy. The jets in his gas-path crumpled in on themselves. He gurgled his way toward crowds whose folk had apparently decided it would take too long for planes to take off at sea side. They were diving into the ocean as a last resort.

Leaving Volkan’s side, Sini gaily devoured his way to the shallows. His stomach anchored him down when he entered the waves, so instead of swimming, he ended up waddling along the underwater slope before vanishing under the waves, but he stayed at a place in the shallows where he could easily (and did) snap up the legs of swimmers overhead.

He had glutted down several hopeless freestylers—oh, and he’d even left a donut hole in the middle of a boat after chomping down some escapists—by the time a mean-looking orca swam from the depths toward him. This orca meant business—at least, if doing a good deed could ever be entrepreneurial. The orca intended to predatorily protect the islanders, and his empty stomach vouched with a groan of challenge.

Sini’s face turned malevolent with mirth. He yawned his jowls and engulfed the orca’s vision, his mouth seeming to open as wide as a whale’s. GLOMF! A flurry of bubbles doubled as a curtain behind which he teleported the orca into his omega 3 processing chamber. Master-grade acids did to the orca things which would definitely make ocean-huggers protest him the way they did SeaWorld, should they ever hear of them.

There came an underwater urwwrhhp, and a tumbleweed of bones of diverse species rattled out of his maw. Hermit crabs would later settle in some of these skulls, so don’t you ever accuse Sini of being unsupportive of the lower class of the ocean ecosystem.

Four hundred and eighty-six tourists after feeding Volkan, Sini weighed over 35,000 pounds; had digested another 129,900 pounds worth of hide-cushioners, which had added 25,980 pounds after the metabolic tax. He now appeared abominably fat with a purplegut shaped like the back of an obese armadillo. Rolls of jiggly, scaled flesh wobbled perpetually on the black-and-purple blimp, and he crawled out of the depths onto the beach. Winded, he rolled onto his back and huffed with fatigue, his belly cramping and complaining with gastric squeaks, growls and thunderclaps big enough to intimidate a whale, for the noises implied that they, too, would end up as just another menu item.

Meanwhile, another seven dragons swooped down around Volkan. Each of them had a unique color of scales, kind of like a bunch of Skittles. They had all agreed that one of them—it didn’t matter who—must eat the green for his crimes. They closed in, licking their lips.

“Aww, aren’t you dragons cute, taking seven to eat one. Guess what? I can eat all seven of you in one sitting. One minute from now, and you won’t even exist, except on my ass as fat.”

The green moved through them with a casual pace, gobbling down their tails in succession and leisurely evading their attempts to swallow or tackle him. His gut kept boinging out wider, groaning more heavily, heaping on the features of the live trophies. But they wouldn’t be live for long …

Dramatic moans left him, and his insides pummeled the losers into pulp, reduced them to an LGBTQ-colored pudding. The number of dragons who still outside his belly had dwindled to two, and the survivors gaped in horror at the sheer churning power of his midriff. He bounded on the last of the scaly edibles and scarfed them down; and his innards melted the rainbow dragon-wad into an amorphic chyme. Absorbing all the pounds, he bloated out in metabolic pulses with pudge and stomach gas and became a significant blockade of the airstrip.

Volkan, now weighing 66,420 pounds after gaining 44,910 pounds from ingesting 254,550 pounds since he ate the red, lay under the elephantine orb of heat-radiating, reptile-razing stomach. Belly groans and sloshes and glorps bullwhipped the air and could not be mollified. “HWUUUUUUUUOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOURRRRK! URRFFF URWWBROOOAAAAAAAAP BLAHOOOOOAAAAHOOOAK, GAOOOWOAAAAAWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAARRRRUP! F-ffuck ... You guys might just last a whole week on me … What do you think, babe?”

But Sini wasn’t around. He had found a dozen native ritualists on the beach, ritualists who had just finished summoning from the depths of the sea a giant sea serpent. The waters blackened with an underwater shape, then launched a cataract of great white around an uncurling tower of scales dark-jade and dark-aquamarine with bronze ventral plates and fins. Over Sini stretched the almighty shadow of the serpent. Bioluminescent eyes blinked open. A screech hammered the beach with fishy-smelling hurricane winds.

The sea serpent yawned jaws of ancient flesh and teeth, jaws which could inhale small vessels; which could make the same work of Sini that a fatass at McDonalds makes of a twenty-piece chicken McNugget order. But Sini’s hunger was too big for fast food menus—so big that the serpent produced a disturbing amount of drool in his mouth. He unhinged his jaws and cranked them open obscenely wide, as though he had no doubt in his mind that he was the dominant predator. The confidence the dragon exuded unnerved the serpent so much that he closed his jowls in consternation, which only served to package his snout into an ingestible form. Sini hopped up and clamped his teeth down on the snout, then began gulping ravenously, burying the serpent in his digestive tract. The serpent floundered, but could stop him no more than a shoddy ship can stop the pull of a hungry whirlpool.

Gulp … gulp … gulp … GULLP!!!

All 12 summoners watched with panic and dread. The dragon’s jaws flexed and scaled their slathering breadth to the size needed to envelop the oceanic snackrifice. The serpent the summoners’ families had worshiped for generations was becoming fuel for the toxic dragon before their very eyes. They watched the jaws maul down the slimy, frilled tail, until the ship-like tail-end slid down into his oblong blimp of belly, which was ballooning to outsize him so that he looked like a hitchhiker stealing a ride atop a double decker bus, the ‘bus’ being jolted about from congregations of monstrous burbles, as though running over speed bumps … which was making the dragon rather motion-sick.

Embracing this sickness with groans of triumph and firm belly-rubs, he rode the waves of his wobbling belly. A leviathan bubble of gaseous pressure built up from the serpent’s futile shuffles and shimmies. The stomach clenched with gastric paroxysms to quickly engulf the sea-beast in purple special effects: toxic fumes from acids which resulted in a shrinking bulge. The belly sloshed with oppressive contractions, demythicizing the serpent one pulse at a time. The overpowered metabolism could reduce actual gods to meaningless sludge with a nihilistic efficiency; and the sea-beast wasn’t even all that god-like in the stomach’s opinion.

“BBWWWWWUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWRRRRUURRRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHHHUUUPP!!!” Sini gasped, and looked relieved and euphoric from the last purge of gas. Another belch puffed up his cheeks, then barged out out blasting:

“PPUUAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRHHHHHUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWRRRURRRRK!! HHUUURRRRRLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOWOAAAAAAWP!!”

And then:

“HHURWWWHBWHOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAWHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOAAOOOOUWRRRRRRRRRRRRRRHPURHHPURRRRRRRLLLP!!!!”

Sini belched and belched, panting and sweating as the beast heaped body fat onto his form and fogged up the coast with that miasmic purple. The blob of pudgy dragon rolled his way over to the summoners and gulped them down too, and then belched loudly to herald their failure to the whole rest of the island--meaning, the meager number of islanders who had survived the draconic apocalypse.

Sini flopped onto his back, and he broke down the last of the 241,800 pounds he’d gained since the last count, and he purloined 48,360 of those pounds to change his new total weight to 83,360 pounds, adorning his body with more pudge than possessed by any other creature on the planet, meaning his legs now looked like steep black slopes grouped together around a purple hill of pure pudge which dominated all structures on the island in sheer size in memoriam every person, dragon and marine creature whose destiny it had been to be reborn as poison-dragon pudge …

Volkan reunited with him at sunset, and they pressed together their pillowy bellies, and happily spent the remainder of the day projecting deep, long belches over the island, belches that sounded like blissful nausea personified. The combined weight of the dragons surpassed the weight of any tank and equaled the weight of a water tower. A small select few had been spared from their genocidal hunger, but given that all the pilots and sailors had been eaten, they couldn’t leave the island and didn't have any choice but to worship the dragons’ guts until they tired of vacationing. And there wasn’t any guarantee that the survivors would still be existing after the dragons’ departure. But every subservient heave into those prodigious guts: That bought them a little more time …

Best they keep heaving.

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