Over on my patreon,  addylad requested a drabble for the month where Gantu finally gets the birthday he deserves with the helpful experiments giving him everything he could never ask for and more! A short little things I hope you guys enjoy. Preview image courtesy of  fat_louie

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Getting comfortable was difficult for Gantu. Mostly because everything was several sizes too small now. “Can’t say if this was worth it or not.” He huffed, leaning back in a chair that was meant for an alien far thinner than he currently was.

Capturing 062 was no easy feat. The gourmet creation spun around in its containment capsule, shouting out words Gantu couldn’t understand. He didn’t bother giving the meddlesome pest the mind, not after being splattered with pies and cakes in an attempt to stop his pursuits.

Now, he’d blown up to twice his weight. Rounder, thicker, and overall fatter, Gantu had no idea what the experiment gained by blowing him up this way. “Perhaps this is what that scientist wanted. To make an experiment that can fatten populations, ruling over worlds would be easy that way.” He rubbed his meaty second chin, his chair slipping up his ass as he shifted around.

Annoyed, he stood up, his large gait wobbling and practically bouncing around the command center of his ship. Gantu was already a big alien but being wide threw him off. All he could hope for at this point was the salvation of diet and exercise to lose this troubling fat and regain some dignity.

“Hey Boss I-” Reuben paused as he came in. “Hahahahaha! Oh man! What happened to you!?”

This was the last person he wanted to see him in such a state. “What is it you want? I’m obviously dealing with something.”

Reuben didn’t listen to a single word. Doubled over with laughter, it took him a moment to settle down. “I had wanted to do something for your birthday. Seems like you got into the cake already.” He glanced over to the trapped chef. Already an idea was coming to the experiment’s mind.

Tired of telling Reuben that it wasn’t his birthday, Gantu waddled out to his private quarters. His struggle to squeeze his heavy hips through the already large door got more guffaws from the sandwich-hungry monster. Just say nothing. Gantu told himself, shimmying on through, leaving Reuben alone with his latest catch.

Thankfully, the evening proved quiet for him. Enough time to take a good long look at himself in the mirror. “I do hope this isn’t permanent. I wouldn’t put it past Jumba to make it that way.” Gantu groaned, wobbling a heavy gut around as his belt uncomfortably dug into his fat.

Distracted with his own body, he didn’t hear the mechanical door slide open or three different voices mumbling with one another. Scurrying up behind him, one ducked behind his knees while the other two gave a quick slap to his gut. Tumbling backwards, Gantu fell over, facing upwards.

He immediately recognized the devilish laugh of Stitch along Reuben’s own chuckles. The third had a French flair as Gantu swallowed hard. “Hey Big Boss. I got your birthday party crew here. Stitch was happy to come over and Frenchfry here will provide the treats.” Craning his neck up, he saw the three looming over him. Despite Gantu having the size advantage, he knew how easily these gremlins could overpower him.

Prone on the ground, it was too late to scurry away to safety. Stitch and Reuben descended upon Gantu, the latter forgoing his laziness to have some fun. They dragged him across the floor to an odd stockade, locking his wrists and head in place. This restraining device meant for intergalactic prisons was a tight fit for the blubbery alien.

“What is the meaning of this?! What do you think you all are doing!?”

“Well, a birthday isn’t complete without a feast.” Reuben explained as the culinary whirlwind went to work. Gantu knew that sounds too well, having already tasted its consequences once today.

Struggling to get free, the clamps around his wrists were clasped in place. All his strength buried beneath a layer of fat, Gantu’s color drained as he saw his whole bedroom filled with sweets: cakes, cookies, brownies, eclairs, sundaes. The sheer sight made his stomach turn and teeth ache. Not helping the situation was the cartoonish pink party hat plopped on his head, the tight string digging into his chins.

Before they could start the inevitable, Stitch muttered something in his odd language. Reuben and Frenchfry nodded, grinning, seemingly on board with whatever the plan was. “So Big Boss. Let’s play a different version of ‘pin the tail on the donkey’ but we’re pinning cake to your mouth!”

Gantu had no idea what they were on about. “It is not my bir GULP!” He was cut off by a colossal hot fudge sundae crammed down his throat by Stitch. Immediately, his body ballooned, swelling as it did earlier. His attempts to keep his mouth closed were in vain as Reuben used two baguettes to prop open his lips. Now they could have their fun!

Next up was Frenchfry, hoisting two colossal pies in his hands and one on his spatula tail. With surprising accuracy, he was able to get them right down the gullet. This resulted in more weight on his belly, his belt snapping off as a result. His eyes were wide in fear, hands flapping in protest, at the sight of Reuben and a box of donuts.

Two at a time, they were tossed like fastballs, hitting the back of his throat on a one-way trip to his tummy. Each gobbled gob of fried, filled dough made his butt blimp, stretching his black outfit. Those limbs of his weren’t spared in the slightest as his thighs were now thicker than the trucks on an industrial digger.

Eventually, Gantu got the bread loaves unstuck from his mouth. “I can’t take it anymore! Please! I’m begging you three to stop!” He wailed, unlike his usual staunch mannerisms crying for mercy.

They did pause but only to tease him. Stitch squished his heavy cheeks, making him pucker, burying his face. Frenchfry’s spatula tail patted that gut that spread across the floor, eager to see it bounce. Reuben, meanwhile, was content on pinching and tickling every roll he could get ahold of.

“Don’t throw in the towel. We got more birthday treats to give you.”

Fortune gave Gantu its own birthday present as the stockade collapsed, not built for weight classes exceeding a ton. Smothering two of the three tormentors, the big birthday boy struggled to get to his feet. “I have to get out of here! I can’t have any more food!” He cried, lumbering to the door.

Reuben didn’t bother to give chase, entranced by the sight of those ass cheeks shaking from every booming step. “Good luck with that fatso! We’re gonna make you fill the whole ship!” That pushed Gantu to stampede more, as much of a struggle that was. Far too fat to move properly, he knew that it’d take one more dollop of cream or the smallest of crumbs to rob him of his mobility.

There was the open door, inviting Gantu to come on through. Unlike last time where he could slide through with some trouble, this time he was stuck for good. Trapped, the vice grip halted all of Gantu’s progress.

Jammed tight in the small gap, there was no way for Gantu to squeeze through. Pushing against the wall yielded no progress. The three aliens could be heard snickering from behind, relishing the sight of two wrecking ball butt cheeks gyrating in his black pants. “Wait! What are you all laughing at?!” He screamed, worried what they would do.

Heavy slaps were given to his backside, making his cheeks bounce and bob, wild shaking as if there was an earthquake. He lacked the ability to kick them away. Even if Gantu could thrash about like that, it’d do little good. The three aliens' collective strength outweighed his thickest roll.

“Stop! I’m begging you! I am not some kind of toy!” He cried out, wondering what was digging into his backside now.

Stitch found it fun to scribble a crude smiley face in frosting across those buns. That got a cacophony of evil chuckles from the others. It seemed like they weren’t one bit close to being satisfied with their playtime.

All the while, Gantu feared what the future would entail. How much further would his belly stretch? How heavier would his butt become? Were they really going to make him outgrow the ship?

“What’s on your mind, chubberbutt?” Reuben asked. Gantu looked down, his heart sinking at the sight of Stitch and Frenchfry by his sides. “You look hungry. Starved I say!”

“W-W-Wait! We can talk about this! It’s not even my birthday!!!”

Gantu wasn’t sure how the three of them slipped out to the hallway, but there they were. Each staring at him with devious intent. “Man, someone ought to really lay off the sweets. Didn’t we tell ya, Big Boss? We’ll make you fill this ship!” Reuben snickered, he and Stitch slapping Gantu’s gut.

Before the trapped fatty could flounder or try and wiggle loose of the doorway, Stitch and Reuben took hold of his arms, using their immense strength to keep them stuck at his sides. An impressive feat seeing his limbs were already quite stocky barring the gallons of fat wobbling around in those water wings.

This allowed Frenchfry to feed that hungry, multi-chinned face as much as he fancied. Tall cakes, ice cream, pies, all the treats the big birthday boy never asked for. Every forced mouthful brought a deluge of pounds, stealing his mobility, ensuring he stayed stuck in the door. As Gantu struggled, unable to wiggle loose, his begging for them to stop falling on deaf ears, a small little ballad was sung in his honor.

Happy Birthday to You!
Happy Birthday to You!
Happy Birthday Big Whale Boy!
And we’re not done with you yet!