FA+
Shop
7664
Views
Views
125
Favorites
Favorites
Category
Story / Fat Furs
Species Western Dragon
Size 120 x 120
File Size 27.6 kB
Report this content
More from Malex
Listed in Folders
The Aristocrat Taste-Tester
Marcus, a Victorian dragon renowned for protecting the aristocracy has a sweet-tooth for treats and sweets alike. After word spreads of his craving for baked goods, it creates some “less-than-healthy” competition between them, all striving to maintain the loyalty of their biggest customer. Marcus finds himself at the centre of it all. Every bakery wants him to eat their cakes, and they’ll stop at nothing to tend to his burgeoning appetite…
This is my submission for
Kikatsu ‘s secret santa! The assignment I was given was 
CalebCerron , who posted three refs. I decided on his reference for his fatty Victorian dragon, Marcus! Feel free to post on your own page with credit to me. Happy holidays, hope you enjoy! <3
___
The Victorian streets were busy with the hustle and bustle of business booming. At the heart of the capital, the rich and famous roamed the streets, either looking for ways to increase their wealth or spend it. Amongst the crowd Marcus stood tall, an imposing figure above them all.
Marcus was a dragon of the aristocracy. Rather, he worked as a “guardian of the aristocracy”. Essentially he kept the peace amongst the higher ranks, granting them what they needed and when they needed. That of course didn’t mean that he would hold back from indulging once in a while. The large dragon often strolled with authority, beaming with pride and style from the bottom of his walking cane to his dragon-whiskered moustache.
He was fairly plump. His round belly jiggled comfortably when it wasn’t behind some lavish suit or shirt. His hips ensured that anyone paying attention would keep a wide berth for him, while anyone who didn’t was assuredly bounced aside. Even the frames of his wings were thick and soft from the days of enjoying the finest of the fine. His maroon hide often alerted others of his presence, with stories heard all over of the dragon who’d flail his spade-headed tail with excitement over any purchase.
Today he was out investigating the busy streets in search of a treat for himself. He often purveyed the artisanal food stores, and everyone knew it. The cheesemongers, wineries, bakeries particularly, they all counted on him for great business days as their largest customer. He was hardly a picky person to please, and whenever he bought, he’d buy in bulk. His plump features were evidence enough of this, however it brought a rivalry between the food-makers. Fists were shaken at each other in the streets whenever Marcus visited a particular store, while others would try and appeal to his tastes specifically.
Marcus wasn’t just bringing money to these retailers, he was bringing reputation. If Marcus ate at your place, it’s likely you made great things. Rumours went around that he had developed quite a taste for cakes recently, and was on the lookout for the best he could find. The following morning stalls had been set up to display their finest pieces, while greeters would often ask members of the public to move on. Some had deliberately kept themselves ready just for Marcus.
And so, here he was, walking from shop to shop. Wherever he went he was met with a smiling face, a free sample and a price.
“Marcus m’lord! Try my red velvet! It’s to die for!” A rabbit in an apron would call from their stall, offering the dragon pieces which he happily scoffed. “No no!” exclaimed a wolf from the sidelines, “My sponge is everything you’ll need, and more!” Marcus found himself garnering the attention of everyone he came close to, happily taking in mouthful after mouthful of all sorts of cake and fudge and other baked treats.
As time passed, Marcus found himself being plied with so much that even HE was starting to feel full. His waistcoat was starting to tighten slightly, stretching against his bloated stomach as he stretched. He had hoped that they would maybe calm down under the assumption that he had already bought something, but he found apron-donned bakers actually approaching him, some travelling far from their bakeries just to offer him more.
Eventually the fatty dragon had formed a sort of crowd, each member brandishing some sort of delicious cake and begging for him to try and possibly buy more of it. More desperate pleas of “Marcus! D’you remember our pastries!” and “Come and eat with us, we’ll give you it for half price!” eventually turned into chaos, as one baker shoved another, and names and jeers would come out. Marcus gulped, realising he might have a full-blown brawl just to get his business unless he put an end to it.
“Bakers, artisans, lend me your ears!” Marcus interrupted, demanding total silence from the crowd as they all listened intently. “Shall we not arrange a meeting so I can try each of your delicacies one by one?..”
The crowd was cautious at first, some would talk with their colleagues, before one by one they heard his address, agreed on a time the following day, and left content with the knowledge that they’d be uninterrupted in their attempt to butter the greedy dragon up with potential sales.
Eventually the streets had emptied, leaving Marcus finally able to walk, or perhaps stumble as his stuffed form fought against his clothes, back to his home, preparing for his eager visitors.
___
News and rumours had spread the following morning as the sun-rose over streets filled with the smells of newly baked breads and other doughy products. This was nothing unusual, however what did stand out was that these particular scents were of the most luxurious and decadent ingredients known to its citizens. Early risers had awoken to a myriad of smells so pleasant they had to stop in the streets and peer through windows out of curiosity.
One such early riser was Marcus. His heavy underbelly pressed against the windowsill as he opened the windows, took one deep breath of the morning air to make himself more alert, and widened his yellow eyes. He looked at the list he hastily scrawled, adorned with the names of several bakeries. He estimated there to be at least 30 of them, all with their ten-minute slots to knock on his door and let him sample one of their products. He chortled. If he’d known he’d have bakeries bringing their goods to him like this he would’ve done this ages ago.
His belly growled. Considering the circumstances, he figured he’d skip breakfast for now. If he was going to try and maintain his figure, he’d have to skip breakfasts for the whole month. Little did he know that he certainly under-estimated the sheer driving force willing to get his business…
The dragon’s frills quivered the moment he heard his front door knock. He looked at the grandfather clock across the lobby. Nine in the morning already? He must’ve slept like a log.
Hurriedly buttoning up his shirt and belting on a pair of suspended trousers, he approached the door and opened it, welcoming his first visitor. Marcus had to hold his tummy back to see him; a shrew no more than 2 ft. tall holding a hilariously similar-sized box he struggled to keep up. Marcus chortled, took the box and invited him in.
They set up in his dining room, the shrew sitting on the table next to his creation, adorned with a baking outfit and hat to match. He opened the box, revealing an entire victoria sponge large enough to count as an entire meal for the dragon. He gulped.
“I thought we had agreed that I was only to taste samples and make orders?” Marcus stated, before the shrew let out a small gasp.
“Oh! Oh dear… I uh… I would maybe prepare for some rather large ‘samples’ as you say…” the shrew responded.
It was exactly as Marcus had feared. He certainly wasn’t going to be able to stop himself from devouring the whole thing, as he happily picked up a slice and chewed casually. His main concern was that if he had roughly 30 more of these to go, his appetite would get out of control quite quickly.
His belly rumbled again as the dreamy taste of sponge, jam and butter-cream attacked his taste buds. He almost forgot the predicament he was in as he reached for another slice, smiling widely. The shrew smiled pleasantly back in response, hoping for a positive reaction as he started rattling off the whole process he went through to create this “free sample” for him.
Slice after tasty slice found its way down his gullet as he continued to devour the sponge like it was nothing. The Shrew’s smile widened as Marcus eventually finished the whole thing, playfully patting his belly and letting out raucous compliments.
“Shall I uh… put you down for some more of those, sir?” The shrew queried, as a silence descended upon the room for a few long seconds. It was interrupted by Marcus eventually coming to, sitting up and giving a light applause.
“Why of course! 5 of those for next week will do nicely!” the dragon responded, as if he’d totally forgotten that he had 30 more of these to go. He was comfortably full, but he knew today would punish him for his avarice well enough. He’d decided today was his day off; the aristocrats would have to maintain their own peace for now.
After cleaning up, he showed the happy artisan shrew to the door, and bid him on his way. As he closed it, he gazed around nervously, wondering how on earth he was going to pull this off. Sure, he had a few days where he might be a bit greedy, but this was bound to take it a bit too far! He was hardly unassertive, but doing the right thing was usually the foremost of his goals, and he certainly didn’t want to have to turn any of the bakers down because of it. He cleared up the dining area as the second knock on the door went. He looked down at his belly protruding against his shirt, quietly speaking to himself.
“Well I hope YOU’RE ready, because you’ll be carrying today for months…”
The next visitor was a rather suave looking wolf dressed to the nines and holding a box similar to the last one. The moment Marcus opened the door, the wolf smiled.
“Well if it isn’t Marcus himself. Pardon my intrusion, but I believe I have something for you here! They wanted someone who knew their “biggest customer” to deliver these personally…”
Marcus didn’t know him personally; the wolf was an acquaintance that frequented the same streets that he did. Reluctantly the dragon invited him in for tea as the suave visitor laid the goods on the table; a selection of cupcakes and fancies, all delicately decorated with beautifully laid icing.
“You know the whole artisans’ guild is talking about you…” the wolf quipped. Marcus simply tossed one of the cupcakes into his maw and chewed, letting loose a meek grin as the wolf continued.
“Are you really planning on consuming every treat they have for you? You should SEE some of them, you really have quite the indulgent day planned ahead…”
The wolf smirked as Marcus ate another.
“If anything I’m just getting to know what’s nearby! I’d rather know what sort of things I can eat around here the next time I feel like treating myself!”
Eventually the wolf left, waving flamboyantly along the way. Marcus was left to eat the rest of the second offering. He wrote an order for another box, ready to be returned.
As soon as he’d finished, the door knocked once more. Eventually the situation dawned on him that no matter how full he got, he’d very likely have much more waiting.
His next customers were a trio of foxes, all eager to invite themselves in and set up on his kitchen table without even introducing themselves.
“We’re glad you agreed to this!”
“You won’t be disappointed!”
“After tasting this you’ll want to be with us forever!”
More sponges and pastries and bites had all been laid out for him. He found it preposterous that this was deemed as a “sample”, there was easily enough here to satisfy the needs of 5 different customers. Still, as the foxes clasped their hands and watched him eat, they all chirped with glee as the dragon gave his usual pleasing smile at the taste. Unfortunately for him, the effects of overeating were beginning to take their toll.
Marcus was by no means a thin dragon. He was used to this sort of decadence, and it showed. However, his round belly groaned as it rounded out further while he ate. Fullness was not a feeling unknown to him, however as his body adapted, it decided that he needed to get bigger to accommodate it all. He could feel his tummy start to strain against his waistcoat, while his hips and thighs caused his trousers to tighten.
Still, in his struggle to remain polite to his guests he continued to eat and binge. Any encouragement or happy exclamation from the foxes urged him to keep going as his belly gradually bloated more with each bite. It wasn’t entirely obvious yet, but as Marcus realised he had a lot more of these to go, he started to worry about his waistline.
He waved the foxes goodbye after making yet another order. Barely a moment passed before the next visitor arrived. Not even a moment to himself. Only more cake.
As time progressed, customers of different sizes, colours and tastes arrived one after the other. A dragon who tried to sell his angel cakes by saying no one could tend to his tastes like one of his own kind. A kindly grandmother-bear who loomed over Marcus as he ate her prized apple pie. A small army of mice who’d formed their own bakery all came in excited to see the decadent interiors of Marcus’ home, before “allowing” him to devour their fruitcake.
Time and time again, Marcus would end up too polite to say no, making orders, and guzzling down whatever he was presented with. Each time his shirt strained a little more. He’d need to take a deep breath before opening the door to another barrage of fatty treats. Every time he went down that long corridor his gut wobbled with each step. It bulged outwards a good half-foot further than it normally did. Then a full foot. Then more. It wasn’t until the tenth visit that he realised his trousers were already starting to burst at the seams, his maroon scales poking through them.
Still Marcus chomped and guzzled and swallowed and gorged. Each of his visitors didn’t even seem concerned that the overstuffed dragon had to reach over his burgeoning belly for more, they were only concerned with making their cakes stand out and watching him enjoy them. Marcus continued to grow fatter and fatter as the armada of bakers continued to tend to his bottomless appetite.
Marcus hadn’t quite realised the effect this was having on his frame until visitor number 19, a modestly built husky, reacted on him opening the door with a step back and a sheepish grin.
“Greetings sir! I…. oh my….”
Marcus chortled. He hefted his gigantic gut up like a big soft barrel, before drooping it. It caused one of the buttons on his waistcoat to pop off, launching between the husky’s ears.
“I guess I have overindulged a little today… come, I’m in the mood for…” Marcus chortled, trying to figure out the contents of the husky’s package. “… are those… pancakes?”
Almost immediately the husky nodded, forgetting about Marcus’ evident weight gain and eagerly setting up for the greedy dragon. Marcus grinned to himself. He’d let himself become so fat and greedy that businessmen were torn between being concerned for his growing size and their growing profits.
Things got a little more problematic when his belly had grown so large that he had to ask the husky to hand him the pancakes one after the other. He could feel his gut expanding against the table as he continued to gorge on more and more. Another button flew off his waistcoat, marking the wood across the dining area as the husky looked on in concern.
His hips were so enormous you could barely see the seat of his chair as he ate. The entire time Marcus could feel each curve on his body burgeoning further outwards as he continued to binge. He noticed it particularly as the chair beneath him began to creak and strain under his growing weight. Soon the last button popped off of his waistcoat as he simply threw it aside.
On his way to let the husky out of his home, he noticed the trousers had burst at the seams so much that you could see more of his fatty legs than you could the fabric. After closing the door, he figured it was time to drop the façade and instead took off the trousers and shirt. Rubbing his belly in the mirror, he watched as it wobbled at the slightest rub. He was truly enormous, and though he was over the main brunt of his apparent “feast”, he knew he had so much more to go…
More bakers arrived, and things quickly got out of control. A mishap in which two arrived at the same time and promptly started arguing at Marcus’ front door was only solved when he agreed to eat everything both of them had, which unfortunately for him, was a range of cakes so enormous they took up his entire dining room table. As the two bakers forcefully tried to ply him with their own cakes against each other, Marcus could only hold his mouth open, filling constantly with sweets and treats as he could even feel his chins growing.
Any thoughts Marcus had about stopping were quickly shoved aside by his need to be polite and please others. He was now so enormously fat that the table was being pushed back by his enormous belly, while the chair was practically being swallowed up by his rump. By the end of the ordeal, leaving roughly two or three visitors left, he was so huge he had to carefully hold his belly back just to get past his doorways. Of course, he was thankful to still have his mobility. He wouldn’t have let it get so far to the point where that would happen.
The rest of the afternoon was hazy to Marcus’ mind as he barely even had to make an effort. Occasionally someone would let themselves in, stuff his face, allow him to take it all in and leave. He was in a state of ecstasy, some of the bakers willing so much to please him that they’d even stop to rub his gigantic, dangerously stuffed gut. He continued to gorge and guzzle and overfill himself, unable to stop his rampant appetite as he grew fatter than he had ever gotten before.
___
The last customer approached the door, clasping at his hat and breathing heavily. He was late for his appointment, however it seemed that as Marcus’ front door was open he still seemed to be taking in visitors.
“Lord Marcus?!” the small black cat called as he let himself in and closed the door, laying some apple crumble aside. He could hear the grunts and groans of his potential patron in the dining room, followed by the monstrous gurgles of a belly that had been tried and tested to its limits.
Eventually he caught sight of the heavily bloated protector, lying on the floor of his kitchen table, adorned in rolls of flab. He stared up to make eye contact past his huge cheeks and many chins. His belly swayed back and forth like an enormous, soft dome, rested below two impressively enormous moobs.
“Sir! Are you… are you alright?” the cat meekly murmured, before the dragon interrupted.
“Why yes, of course! I’m glad you made it, did you bring anything for me?...”
Marcus, a Victorian dragon renowned for protecting the aristocracy has a sweet-tooth for treats and sweets alike. After word spreads of his craving for baked goods, it creates some “less-than-healthy” competition between them, all striving to maintain the loyalty of their biggest customer. Marcus finds himself at the centre of it all. Every bakery wants him to eat their cakes, and they’ll stop at nothing to tend to his burgeoning appetite…
This is my submission for
Kikatsu ‘s secret santa! The assignment I was given was 
CalebCerron , who posted three refs. I decided on his reference for his fatty Victorian dragon, Marcus! Feel free to post on your own page with credit to me. Happy holidays, hope you enjoy! <3___
The Victorian streets were busy with the hustle and bustle of business booming. At the heart of the capital, the rich and famous roamed the streets, either looking for ways to increase their wealth or spend it. Amongst the crowd Marcus stood tall, an imposing figure above them all.
Marcus was a dragon of the aristocracy. Rather, he worked as a “guardian of the aristocracy”. Essentially he kept the peace amongst the higher ranks, granting them what they needed and when they needed. That of course didn’t mean that he would hold back from indulging once in a while. The large dragon often strolled with authority, beaming with pride and style from the bottom of his walking cane to his dragon-whiskered moustache.
He was fairly plump. His round belly jiggled comfortably when it wasn’t behind some lavish suit or shirt. His hips ensured that anyone paying attention would keep a wide berth for him, while anyone who didn’t was assuredly bounced aside. Even the frames of his wings were thick and soft from the days of enjoying the finest of the fine. His maroon hide often alerted others of his presence, with stories heard all over of the dragon who’d flail his spade-headed tail with excitement over any purchase.
Today he was out investigating the busy streets in search of a treat for himself. He often purveyed the artisanal food stores, and everyone knew it. The cheesemongers, wineries, bakeries particularly, they all counted on him for great business days as their largest customer. He was hardly a picky person to please, and whenever he bought, he’d buy in bulk. His plump features were evidence enough of this, however it brought a rivalry between the food-makers. Fists were shaken at each other in the streets whenever Marcus visited a particular store, while others would try and appeal to his tastes specifically.
Marcus wasn’t just bringing money to these retailers, he was bringing reputation. If Marcus ate at your place, it’s likely you made great things. Rumours went around that he had developed quite a taste for cakes recently, and was on the lookout for the best he could find. The following morning stalls had been set up to display their finest pieces, while greeters would often ask members of the public to move on. Some had deliberately kept themselves ready just for Marcus.
And so, here he was, walking from shop to shop. Wherever he went he was met with a smiling face, a free sample and a price.
“Marcus m’lord! Try my red velvet! It’s to die for!” A rabbit in an apron would call from their stall, offering the dragon pieces which he happily scoffed. “No no!” exclaimed a wolf from the sidelines, “My sponge is everything you’ll need, and more!” Marcus found himself garnering the attention of everyone he came close to, happily taking in mouthful after mouthful of all sorts of cake and fudge and other baked treats.
As time passed, Marcus found himself being plied with so much that even HE was starting to feel full. His waistcoat was starting to tighten slightly, stretching against his bloated stomach as he stretched. He had hoped that they would maybe calm down under the assumption that he had already bought something, but he found apron-donned bakers actually approaching him, some travelling far from their bakeries just to offer him more.
Eventually the fatty dragon had formed a sort of crowd, each member brandishing some sort of delicious cake and begging for him to try and possibly buy more of it. More desperate pleas of “Marcus! D’you remember our pastries!” and “Come and eat with us, we’ll give you it for half price!” eventually turned into chaos, as one baker shoved another, and names and jeers would come out. Marcus gulped, realising he might have a full-blown brawl just to get his business unless he put an end to it.
“Bakers, artisans, lend me your ears!” Marcus interrupted, demanding total silence from the crowd as they all listened intently. “Shall we not arrange a meeting so I can try each of your delicacies one by one?..”
The crowd was cautious at first, some would talk with their colleagues, before one by one they heard his address, agreed on a time the following day, and left content with the knowledge that they’d be uninterrupted in their attempt to butter the greedy dragon up with potential sales.
Eventually the streets had emptied, leaving Marcus finally able to walk, or perhaps stumble as his stuffed form fought against his clothes, back to his home, preparing for his eager visitors.
___
News and rumours had spread the following morning as the sun-rose over streets filled with the smells of newly baked breads and other doughy products. This was nothing unusual, however what did stand out was that these particular scents were of the most luxurious and decadent ingredients known to its citizens. Early risers had awoken to a myriad of smells so pleasant they had to stop in the streets and peer through windows out of curiosity.
One such early riser was Marcus. His heavy underbelly pressed against the windowsill as he opened the windows, took one deep breath of the morning air to make himself more alert, and widened his yellow eyes. He looked at the list he hastily scrawled, adorned with the names of several bakeries. He estimated there to be at least 30 of them, all with their ten-minute slots to knock on his door and let him sample one of their products. He chortled. If he’d known he’d have bakeries bringing their goods to him like this he would’ve done this ages ago.
His belly growled. Considering the circumstances, he figured he’d skip breakfast for now. If he was going to try and maintain his figure, he’d have to skip breakfasts for the whole month. Little did he know that he certainly under-estimated the sheer driving force willing to get his business…
The dragon’s frills quivered the moment he heard his front door knock. He looked at the grandfather clock across the lobby. Nine in the morning already? He must’ve slept like a log.
Hurriedly buttoning up his shirt and belting on a pair of suspended trousers, he approached the door and opened it, welcoming his first visitor. Marcus had to hold his tummy back to see him; a shrew no more than 2 ft. tall holding a hilariously similar-sized box he struggled to keep up. Marcus chortled, took the box and invited him in.
They set up in his dining room, the shrew sitting on the table next to his creation, adorned with a baking outfit and hat to match. He opened the box, revealing an entire victoria sponge large enough to count as an entire meal for the dragon. He gulped.
“I thought we had agreed that I was only to taste samples and make orders?” Marcus stated, before the shrew let out a small gasp.
“Oh! Oh dear… I uh… I would maybe prepare for some rather large ‘samples’ as you say…” the shrew responded.
It was exactly as Marcus had feared. He certainly wasn’t going to be able to stop himself from devouring the whole thing, as he happily picked up a slice and chewed casually. His main concern was that if he had roughly 30 more of these to go, his appetite would get out of control quite quickly.
His belly rumbled again as the dreamy taste of sponge, jam and butter-cream attacked his taste buds. He almost forgot the predicament he was in as he reached for another slice, smiling widely. The shrew smiled pleasantly back in response, hoping for a positive reaction as he started rattling off the whole process he went through to create this “free sample” for him.
Slice after tasty slice found its way down his gullet as he continued to devour the sponge like it was nothing. The Shrew’s smile widened as Marcus eventually finished the whole thing, playfully patting his belly and letting out raucous compliments.
“Shall I uh… put you down for some more of those, sir?” The shrew queried, as a silence descended upon the room for a few long seconds. It was interrupted by Marcus eventually coming to, sitting up and giving a light applause.
“Why of course! 5 of those for next week will do nicely!” the dragon responded, as if he’d totally forgotten that he had 30 more of these to go. He was comfortably full, but he knew today would punish him for his avarice well enough. He’d decided today was his day off; the aristocrats would have to maintain their own peace for now.
After cleaning up, he showed the happy artisan shrew to the door, and bid him on his way. As he closed it, he gazed around nervously, wondering how on earth he was going to pull this off. Sure, he had a few days where he might be a bit greedy, but this was bound to take it a bit too far! He was hardly unassertive, but doing the right thing was usually the foremost of his goals, and he certainly didn’t want to have to turn any of the bakers down because of it. He cleared up the dining area as the second knock on the door went. He looked down at his belly protruding against his shirt, quietly speaking to himself.
“Well I hope YOU’RE ready, because you’ll be carrying today for months…”
The next visitor was a rather suave looking wolf dressed to the nines and holding a box similar to the last one. The moment Marcus opened the door, the wolf smiled.
“Well if it isn’t Marcus himself. Pardon my intrusion, but I believe I have something for you here! They wanted someone who knew their “biggest customer” to deliver these personally…”
Marcus didn’t know him personally; the wolf was an acquaintance that frequented the same streets that he did. Reluctantly the dragon invited him in for tea as the suave visitor laid the goods on the table; a selection of cupcakes and fancies, all delicately decorated with beautifully laid icing.
“You know the whole artisans’ guild is talking about you…” the wolf quipped. Marcus simply tossed one of the cupcakes into his maw and chewed, letting loose a meek grin as the wolf continued.
“Are you really planning on consuming every treat they have for you? You should SEE some of them, you really have quite the indulgent day planned ahead…”
The wolf smirked as Marcus ate another.
“If anything I’m just getting to know what’s nearby! I’d rather know what sort of things I can eat around here the next time I feel like treating myself!”
Eventually the wolf left, waving flamboyantly along the way. Marcus was left to eat the rest of the second offering. He wrote an order for another box, ready to be returned.
As soon as he’d finished, the door knocked once more. Eventually the situation dawned on him that no matter how full he got, he’d very likely have much more waiting.
His next customers were a trio of foxes, all eager to invite themselves in and set up on his kitchen table without even introducing themselves.
“We’re glad you agreed to this!”
“You won’t be disappointed!”
“After tasting this you’ll want to be with us forever!”
More sponges and pastries and bites had all been laid out for him. He found it preposterous that this was deemed as a “sample”, there was easily enough here to satisfy the needs of 5 different customers. Still, as the foxes clasped their hands and watched him eat, they all chirped with glee as the dragon gave his usual pleasing smile at the taste. Unfortunately for him, the effects of overeating were beginning to take their toll.
Marcus was by no means a thin dragon. He was used to this sort of decadence, and it showed. However, his round belly groaned as it rounded out further while he ate. Fullness was not a feeling unknown to him, however as his body adapted, it decided that he needed to get bigger to accommodate it all. He could feel his tummy start to strain against his waistcoat, while his hips and thighs caused his trousers to tighten.
Still, in his struggle to remain polite to his guests he continued to eat and binge. Any encouragement or happy exclamation from the foxes urged him to keep going as his belly gradually bloated more with each bite. It wasn’t entirely obvious yet, but as Marcus realised he had a lot more of these to go, he started to worry about his waistline.
He waved the foxes goodbye after making yet another order. Barely a moment passed before the next visitor arrived. Not even a moment to himself. Only more cake.
As time progressed, customers of different sizes, colours and tastes arrived one after the other. A dragon who tried to sell his angel cakes by saying no one could tend to his tastes like one of his own kind. A kindly grandmother-bear who loomed over Marcus as he ate her prized apple pie. A small army of mice who’d formed their own bakery all came in excited to see the decadent interiors of Marcus’ home, before “allowing” him to devour their fruitcake.
Time and time again, Marcus would end up too polite to say no, making orders, and guzzling down whatever he was presented with. Each time his shirt strained a little more. He’d need to take a deep breath before opening the door to another barrage of fatty treats. Every time he went down that long corridor his gut wobbled with each step. It bulged outwards a good half-foot further than it normally did. Then a full foot. Then more. It wasn’t until the tenth visit that he realised his trousers were already starting to burst at the seams, his maroon scales poking through them.
Still Marcus chomped and guzzled and swallowed and gorged. Each of his visitors didn’t even seem concerned that the overstuffed dragon had to reach over his burgeoning belly for more, they were only concerned with making their cakes stand out and watching him enjoy them. Marcus continued to grow fatter and fatter as the armada of bakers continued to tend to his bottomless appetite.
Marcus hadn’t quite realised the effect this was having on his frame until visitor number 19, a modestly built husky, reacted on him opening the door with a step back and a sheepish grin.
“Greetings sir! I…. oh my….”
Marcus chortled. He hefted his gigantic gut up like a big soft barrel, before drooping it. It caused one of the buttons on his waistcoat to pop off, launching between the husky’s ears.
“I guess I have overindulged a little today… come, I’m in the mood for…” Marcus chortled, trying to figure out the contents of the husky’s package. “… are those… pancakes?”
Almost immediately the husky nodded, forgetting about Marcus’ evident weight gain and eagerly setting up for the greedy dragon. Marcus grinned to himself. He’d let himself become so fat and greedy that businessmen were torn between being concerned for his growing size and their growing profits.
Things got a little more problematic when his belly had grown so large that he had to ask the husky to hand him the pancakes one after the other. He could feel his gut expanding against the table as he continued to gorge on more and more. Another button flew off his waistcoat, marking the wood across the dining area as the husky looked on in concern.
His hips were so enormous you could barely see the seat of his chair as he ate. The entire time Marcus could feel each curve on his body burgeoning further outwards as he continued to binge. He noticed it particularly as the chair beneath him began to creak and strain under his growing weight. Soon the last button popped off of his waistcoat as he simply threw it aside.
On his way to let the husky out of his home, he noticed the trousers had burst at the seams so much that you could see more of his fatty legs than you could the fabric. After closing the door, he figured it was time to drop the façade and instead took off the trousers and shirt. Rubbing his belly in the mirror, he watched as it wobbled at the slightest rub. He was truly enormous, and though he was over the main brunt of his apparent “feast”, he knew he had so much more to go…
More bakers arrived, and things quickly got out of control. A mishap in which two arrived at the same time and promptly started arguing at Marcus’ front door was only solved when he agreed to eat everything both of them had, which unfortunately for him, was a range of cakes so enormous they took up his entire dining room table. As the two bakers forcefully tried to ply him with their own cakes against each other, Marcus could only hold his mouth open, filling constantly with sweets and treats as he could even feel his chins growing.
Any thoughts Marcus had about stopping were quickly shoved aside by his need to be polite and please others. He was now so enormously fat that the table was being pushed back by his enormous belly, while the chair was practically being swallowed up by his rump. By the end of the ordeal, leaving roughly two or three visitors left, he was so huge he had to carefully hold his belly back just to get past his doorways. Of course, he was thankful to still have his mobility. He wouldn’t have let it get so far to the point where that would happen.
The rest of the afternoon was hazy to Marcus’ mind as he barely even had to make an effort. Occasionally someone would let themselves in, stuff his face, allow him to take it all in and leave. He was in a state of ecstasy, some of the bakers willing so much to please him that they’d even stop to rub his gigantic, dangerously stuffed gut. He continued to gorge and guzzle and overfill himself, unable to stop his rampant appetite as he grew fatter than he had ever gotten before.
___
The last customer approached the door, clasping at his hat and breathing heavily. He was late for his appointment, however it seemed that as Marcus’ front door was open he still seemed to be taking in visitors.
“Lord Marcus?!” the small black cat called as he let himself in and closed the door, laying some apple crumble aside. He could hear the grunts and groans of his potential patron in the dining room, followed by the monstrous gurgles of a belly that had been tried and tested to its limits.
Eventually he caught sight of the heavily bloated protector, lying on the floor of his kitchen table, adorned in rolls of flab. He stared up to make eye contact past his huge cheeks and many chins. His belly swayed back and forth like an enormous, soft dome, rested below two impressively enormous moobs.
“Sir! Are you… are you alright?” the cat meekly murmured, before the dragon interrupted.
“Why yes, of course! I’m glad you made it, did you bring anything for me?...”
Category Story / Fat Furs
Species Western Dragon
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 27.6 kB
Listed in Folders
*laughs*
Now th is outstanding! I mean, I literally smiled and even laughed a little in rea life while reading thi story!
'High class with some whimsy' definitely suits a story in a Victorian setting! I find interesting how you adapted my biography and my preferences in furry tropes into thi situation. I really like how you integrate the fancy clothing into the story... or again, how 'I' burst out of the clothing. The download is also impressive: the dialogue is Colour-Coded for Your Convenience!
The biggest part is how accurate you were wi the way I do tings... like... ninety percent accurate, going beyond my biography. I do get rather giddy a times. I do get adventurous with tasting things and wan to keep going with something I like... even going overboard a times. I would be glad in giving others their due recognition... underappreciated hidden gems, and all that. I do lik economising if I can. I do skip breakfasts when I wake late... which is frequent. Keeping a hasty list and dedicating special/impromptu days to decadence i something that I woul do. The 'not knowing personally an acquaintance' is actually something that would happen to me, though I would be hesitant but not fully reluctant.
Even the ten percen that was wrong had shades of right. I do not beam with pride, but I do have gratitude and loyalty. I am not a fan of being called 'Lord' (or 'Master', a that), but I would be too nervous in bringing up that little thing, especially when I am fine at least with being called 'Mister', 'Sir', and other gentlemanly titles. I am not a gulper, but I do drag a finger. I a mo reserved in speech, though I do end up sounding formal and educated even unintentionally. I would not normally simply throw away a waistcoat, but I do get a bit careless a times. The only completely wrong part is that I am not a fan of moobs, and even then that i something that I forgot o put in the furry trope list.
...I actually wan to make a comic based on thi story one day. Thank you so much!
...now how am 'I' going to get back to normal?
Now th is outstanding! I mean, I literally smiled and even laughed a little in rea life while reading thi story!
'High class with some whimsy' definitely suits a story in a Victorian setting! I find interesting how you adapted my biography and my preferences in furry tropes into thi situation. I really like how you integrate the fancy clothing into the story... or again, how 'I' burst out of the clothing. The download is also impressive: the dialogue is Colour-Coded for Your Convenience!
The biggest part is how accurate you were wi the way I do tings... like... ninety percent accurate, going beyond my biography. I do get rather giddy a times. I do get adventurous with tasting things and wan to keep going with something I like... even going overboard a times. I would be glad in giving others their due recognition... underappreciated hidden gems, and all that. I do lik economising if I can. I do skip breakfasts when I wake late... which is frequent. Keeping a hasty list and dedicating special/impromptu days to decadence i something that I woul do. The 'not knowing personally an acquaintance' is actually something that would happen to me, though I would be hesitant but not fully reluctant.
Even the ten percen that was wrong had shades of right. I do not beam with pride, but I do have gratitude and loyalty. I am not a fan of being called 'Lord' (or 'Master', a that), but I would be too nervous in bringing up that little thing, especially when I am fine at least with being called 'Mister', 'Sir', and other gentlemanly titles. I am not a gulper, but I do drag a finger. I a mo reserved in speech, though I do end up sounding formal and educated even unintentionally. I would not normally simply throw away a waistcoat, but I do get a bit careless a times. The only completely wrong part is that I am not a fan of moobs, and even then that i something that I forgot o put in the furry trope list.
...I actually wan to make a comic based on thi story one day. Thank you so much!
...now how am 'I' going to get back to normal?
Comments