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A Charmeleon is a little bit on the tubby side. After their weight keeps climbing, they realize that maybe it isn't so bad being fat after all.
If you are celebrating Thanksgiving have a big meal on me! Otherwise, I hope your day goes well. <3
Thank you to the lovely
FatPup for commissioning this story!
Finding Joy in the Gain
FatPup's Commission by Jollyguts
3000 words
Tiny puddles of sweat coalesced on the well-insulated tatami dojo floors underneath the wide gait of Char. The intense Charmeleon’s soft crimson-red scales glistened with sudor as they lifted their curled fist behind their head. With an angry vigor, their knuckles collided across the face of a feather-stuffed practice dummy held up by a flimsy stick, but the target merely rocked back and forth as if slapped by a Ribombee.
Char dropped to their knees. All 350 lbs of the chunky lizard thumped against their lap and jiggled as freely as gelatin. With a discontented sigh, they looked at themselves in the wall mirror of the dojo. What was supposed to be a tool to perfect a fighter’s form only reminded Char that they were fat. There was no denying it.
The Charmeleon was hitting weights surpassing the very Makuhita that owned this dojo. Endless nights of delectable and high-calorie foods had taken a toll on their body. There were no clothes that fit them anymore - not at their height. What remained center in view was their corpulent belly that bulged lower and lower as time went by. This pure ball of girth was a testament to how gargantuan their appetite was becoming and was a curious topic around town. Char had made their weight a growing point of gossip among those in and out of the dojo, especially around food vendors who accepted their payment gleefully.
Then came their legs, which wobbled with every one of their laborious steps. Tremors rattled the floors as they shuddered forward like a penguin. Their meaty thighs were engorged to the point where they endlessly brushed against each other and threatened not to fit into chairs. The soft sandy-hued padding of their feet were unaccustomed to the wear and tear of walking and instead frequently lay dormant in spas or the floors of traveling carts.
Char’s stubby arms unconsciously held the climax of their belly as they were idle, kneading the flesh to calm their roaring digestion. Their biceps drooped with pure adipose and curved with hardly any muscle. The Char’s tail was beginning to be engulfed by their encroaching, and ever-jiggling posterior.
Char shook their sweaty head, lungs pitifully fighting for breath. They had only been here for around ten minutes and they were already feeling the burn.
“Ah, screw it-” The Charmeleon allowed their body to fall backward. Their back splattered on the ground and shuddered from the impact. Every hill of their body jiggled with a softness only replicable by a water bed. And yet, Char curled their head toward the mirror again to watch their stomach fill and deflate with air and smirked.
“A little heavy on the five-meat pizza before coming here, ay Char?” the stout, fiery-reptile growled to themselves. Then came an intense cramp in their lower left back. Char grimaced and curled their arm toward their chubby haunch to massage the soft flesh. The “water weight”, or so they called it, displaced as easily as spreading butter on toast. They nodded their head. “Guess I better rest up for tomorrow.”
With the poor excuse to leave, Char ended their workout there for the day. With a few burgers that were about to go bad, Char went to sleep with a taut belly full of delectable meat and cheese. Hardly the diet for someone so concerned about their weight.
The next day began with Char waking up around several chip bags and crumbs dressing their belly. Paying no mind to that, Char built up some courage to return to the dojo with some sugar to get them to their feet. The stout Charmeleon swallowed down some melted ice cream that had been laying out for a day and made the ever-slowing trek to Makuhita’s dojo.
After stretching, Char felt absolutely drained. They stared at themselves in the mirror after barely breaking a sweat. Sighing, the doughy lizard folded their chubby arms behind their head and with a wide grin told their reflection, “Let’s build up some energy for tomorrow! This is normal for losing weight, right? Rest is the most important part, hehe…”
Char reluctantly wobbled outside of the dojo to the natural rock-formation spas just a few steps away. They sat next to a gargantuan Blastoise that was triple their height and just as wide. To the Blastoise’s right lounged a burly Machoke. Both of their bodies flooded the pool with their girth, especially because of the girthy Blastoise. The two stared at Char as the little lizard lifted their tail flame well above the water and relaxed. Char groaned a carefree sigh of relief from their aching body and had a fantastic conversation about their favorite meals.
Then Char had every one of their suggestions when they got home and the following three days.
There was no denying it - Char loved eating. Was this a problem? Were they hurting anyone because of it? There were days when Char would find empty food containers around their hut they had no recollection of eating. This only saddened them, because then they had to find something else to eat.
Char recalled a moment in time when they could see below their belly but those times had long since passed. Their gut jutted so far in front of them that if they dropped something, chances are they wouldn’t find it again, let alone find the strength to bend over to pick it back up. And it was that realization that Char made certain to keep extra snacks on hand for just that occasion.
It was a blessing that Char had talked with that Blastoise and Machoke that day, for they no longer could reach their back to wash it. They were more than happy to do so, and never questioned the Charmeleon’s rapidly bloating body besides a few snickers between the two. Days of gorging themselves had bloated out their moobs, their arms, and their gut to the point where they were making Machoke’s body look lithe. Despite their daily trek to the dojo, there were no signs of Char’s weight dropping.
They hated working out. The daily walk to the dojo was beginning to tucker Char out so much that by the time they got there they just wanted to lounge in the spa. After a few weeks, Char had stopped the walk at all. Instead, they maintained their walk to several food vendors every day, a workout that Char believed was satisfactory, especially with how hot it was making them. It wouldn’t be long until Char knew the names of every food vendor, their daily sales, and the quickest route between all of them. And it was then that Char realized - the extra heft to their step didn’t bother them in the slightest.
Three months have passed since that time.
Char was lovingly cozy in their tiny Charmander head hut on the outskirts of the bustling mercantile village. They lounged firmly planted on a rickety rocking chair, their back fat pushing and curling against the corners of the chair like a cookie cutter against dough. To their left was a table with a greasy box of fried chicken, three containers of mashed potatoes slathered with an absurd amount of buttery gravy, and mac and cheese with chili swimming in its cheesy sauce. Above these containers was a stack of cookies which were delectable treats to easily snack on throughout the day.
To Char’s right was another wooden table, this much larger than the left (because they grew tired of getting up to set more food on the other table). There sat a massive baking sheet full of cinnamon rolls, three boxes of extra-large pizzas, several liters of soda, five burgers wrapped to maintain their heat, a few baskets of fries slathered with melted cheese and bacon, and an entire ham dressed with brown sugar and a scrumptious cherry glaze.
Char’s beefy arms pressed against their globular moobs as they reached for each food item with starved anticipation, methodically dipping their sausage-like fingers in each plate to test each morsel against their taste buds. They shivered only at the most succulent tastes, fully embracing every portion of the food’s taste with the intensity of a gourmand. The comparatively tiny rocking chair’s curved legs ached as their weight shifted to and from both legs. Char’s chubby face drooped like a bloodhound with a double-chinned grin as they ate whole slices of the ham with no utensils, watered it down with a massive chug of lemon soda, and then rested their digestion with a mighty helping of heavy potatoes. The salt coalesced with the butter well, and the spicy kick of pepper made Char’s mouth water for more.
But they craved cheese. Char’s tongue licked across their salivating mouth and eyed the several boxes of pizza. The Charmeleon leaned forward, stopping abruptly because their stomach was in the way. They crashed back down into the chair, giving a lethargic wheeze before reaching forward a second, this time rocking the chair with them.
Char’s fingers grasped the edges of the grease-lined cardboard boxes and brought them to their flabby chest. Despite being extra large pizzas, their stomach was wider than these boxes. Much wider; wider by several inches at this point but who's counting? They thought their belly was the perfect table to rest the dough on, and it was there that the three boxes remained until all of their contents were gone, shoved down their ever-expanding gullet.
A heavy groan radiated through the small hut. Char was bloated. They did just eat 9000 calories in one sitting, after all. The Charmeleon placed their chubby hands on the curvature of their love handles and settled back into the aching rocking chair. They shuffled the fat around, digging their fingers several inches into the blubber, and took a deep breath. Char gulped as they felt bubbles rising through their throat, and out came a barrage of meaty bwarrrps that smelled of the meats and gravy they had just eaten.
And yet, the smell reminded them that there was so much more to be had.
“Pelipper Food Service!” Called from outside Char’s shoddy wooden door.
Through the gaps between the wood paneling of Char’s walls, they saw the glorious white feathers of Pelipper’s wings flap away. Char rested for several minutes underneath the hill of pizza boxes, utterly exhausted from their meal. Char groaned as they heard Pelipper stacking the boxes outside their door.
“Hey… Hey!” Char growled weakly, but Pelipper was far too fast. They turned tail, and before Char could wobble to their feet, the bird had already flown away.
If only they had delivered inside their hut like they requested! Once the morbidly obese Char gathered enough “strength” to rise to their feet, they licked their greasy fingers free of grease and sauce and pushed the pizza boxes onto the floor. The three boxes landed next to several empty containers of doughnuts, rice cakes, and so much more.
Char rocked the chair forwards and back again and again until the momentum was great enough to where they could hear their belly slush. The legs of the rocking chair curled as the weight shifted more and more rapidly against its quickly diminishing stability. With a great heave, Char stumbled onto their legs, where their stomach immediately slushed downward and slapped heavily on their lap. Their sauce-and-crumb-covered moobs wobbled frantically, and their distended rump gave a resplendent break dance to an audience of none. Their legs raptured against the dirt floors, and their fatty feet swam through an ocean of leftover containers.
Wheezing from just getting to their feet, Char’s chest and stomach inflated and deflated rapidly with air. They shuffled one leg after another, unable to see the mess on the floor underneath the overhang of their morbidly obese belly. And yet they held a smile as they could smell more food outside that they could add to their collection. Their mouth watered.
The palms of their bloated hands rapped against their distended gut as all they could think about was more food. Their eyes relaxed and their tongue rolled out of their mouth hungrily as they opened the door to see a dozen more crates of food from all the vendors around town. At this point, Char custom ordered the vendors to deliver a portion of food from every food group, no matter what it was. It kept their taste buds wanting newer foods, never bored of a single taste. Thankfully, they were never bored of new flavors in this village, and it helped keep their gluttonous urges at bay.
But they came across the first hurdle that was becoming more and more of an issue: their door. Char became accustomed to shifting their body to the side and sidling out of their door meant for the small Charmander they used to be not so long ago, but even that was becoming quite a task.
“Good grief…” Char grumbled, hiding a grin in the shadows of their rotund, curvy face. Did they like this?
Char held their belly close and pressed their back against the door frame. Sucking in their gut did nothing nowadays. They had to push and pull their stomach manually with their hands now like pulling a hippo through a manhole in the middle of the road. Char grinned as they felt their hands on their belly and took great pride in kneading it and massaging it through. They felt their fat rear wobble against the door frame, completely lodging themselves against both walls of the entrance to their home. A bead of sweat dribbled down Char’s face as they hefted themselves through to the great outdoors.
They faced downwards to the crates, heaving for breath, and stood wide. At one point of their life, this would have been such an easy task. Now they had to think about every step of the way as if it could be a wild journey. Their hindquarters jutted feet outwards as they bent forward. The weight of their belly transferred from their legs to their back, and their balance completely shifted. Their breathing grew as they reached the first crate. Muscles tensed underneath their layers upon layers of fat. Their thighs were on fire, and they felt like they could fall forward and belly-flop on top of their score at any second.
But they wouldn’t have any of that - this was precious cargo. Char huffed, sweat pooled in the pits of their fatty flabs, and they lifted the crate up. They stopped for a few seconds to catch their breath, then repeated the process by pushing themselves inside.
The sun was beginning to set on the horizon as they grabbed the last crate. It looked like Char had run miles over the last hour or so; their scales glistened with luster, their chest expanded and deflated as they fought for breath, and their entire body trembled from using muscles they hadn’t used in so very long. Char stumbled forward, each step laborious and lethargic. Their belly quaked with every footfall. Their eyes only saw one thing: their chair.
Char turned, great ass spreading nearly as wide as the arms of the chair were, and down collapsed the tired glutton. Immediately, there was a snap of wood, and Char’s momentum did not stop. Their legs engaged as if they could hold up all of the falling weight, and then Char’s arms swiped at the air to grab onto nothing to support them. The first part of their body to hit the floor was the very same ass that tore through the chair. Their cheeks pancaked softly onto the ground, followed by their rolling belly that crunched the arms of the wooden chair like it was made of glass.
Char groaned and rolled onto their back, where they glanced up at the ceiling and laughed. “Oh Char…” they grumbled to themselves, “We’ll need a bigger chair, ay?”
The rotund creature lay on the floor for the remainder of their feast, pulling whatever food they could reach into their mighty gullet. It was only when they had finally glutted themselves into a food coma that the influx of food stopped forcing down their mouth hole. Char smiled the entire time, fully realizing something that they had denied for so very long. They enjoyed being fat.
Two years have passed since that day.
Char stopped in the center of the dojo and looked toward the mirrors lining the walls from floor to ceiling. They hadn’t been here for quite some time, but it reminded them of their past selves; their much smaller selves. It was here that they got a perfect picture of themselves for the first time in so very long. There wasn’t a mirror big enough to get a glimpse of their entire body in the village except here. What little features remained of the Char before this ballooning transformation was the wide grin across their doughy face. But that was about all that was recognizable.
Char stepped closer to a mirror, seeing below their distended gut for the first time in a year. What a fatass they had become! Their entire lower body was now a giant, ever-shaking monolith of pure fat. Char lifted up each trunk-like leg with a deep huff. Their strides could no longer push further than half a foot - their fatty thighs wouldn’t allow it. The tatami floor mats bent underneath each monstrous step of Char. Entire rooms quivered at the arrival of such a gluttonous creature bursting with an abundance of unadulterated fat. These legs were so fat that it was difficult for someone to fully wrap their arms around in a hug. So big that Char could no longer fit into doors unless the establishment was made for the biggest Pokemon around. They cackled as they slapped their thigh and watched the meat jiggle.
Their stalwart lower body was only a tool to hold up the tremendous mound of meat above it. Char’s body was unrecognizable as a creature’s body, let alone a Charmeleon’s body. Their stomach rounded outwards several feet in front of them, curving at several points along their torso in a pancake-like layer of soft, malleable flesh. The center point of their entire body was their belly, which had developed into two drooping wings split between their belly button. Their stomach, ever as engorged as taut as a drum, fell heavily against their thighs and stretched below their knees. This made it impossible to walk in any stance other than a leisurely wobble. And yet, Char held onto the front of their belly as if it were some sort of trophy to be displayed.
The Charmeleon lifted their arm, which was fatter than their very face. The complete lack of muscle definition made their arms look more like an inflated sack of water that displaced its weight with the world’s gravity. They flexed their arms, their biceps so bloated that they pressed against their cheeks and drooped down below their chest with the consistency of melty dough. They turned to flex their back, where they saw their tail for the first time in ages. The flame was as bright and lively as ever, but the length of their tail was nearly gone underneath the two globes of a dump truck.
Makuhita entered the dojo, bowing as they spotted Char. With a grin, the stout, yellow creature exclaimed, “This will be your new home now. The doors are wide enough for you. There is plenty of space to sit.”
Char had a moment of realization of what they were here for and their heart sank. Char looked at themselves in the mirror again, only feeling regret for a split second before they heard a very familiar flapping of wings. Pelipper Food Service.
But there were several pairs of wings slicing through the air. Not one, but five Pelippers carried crates upon crates of food through the air. All five panted until they found enough air to gasp, “P-Pelipper… Food… Service…”
Char rapped their belly excitedly as they began stacking the food in the corner of the dojo until the pile was as large as a truck. Upon sight of the crates, their stomach began to gurgle as if crying out for more to eat. The Pelippers gave Char a wide berth, afraid that if the Charmeleon’s legs finally gave out, the topple down could decimate the very foundation of the dojo. However, they each held a smile and bowed.
Char nodded their head as best as their engorged neck would allow. They said excitedly, “Thank you… and did you bring any beef dumplings?”
One Pelipper held a wing into the air and gave it a flourish. Makuhita began to unpack the crates for Char, stacking them on fold-out tables so each dish was easily reachable. The Charmeleon sniffed the air and targeted the sizzling beef wrapped in the dough immediately. They gulped down a globule of slobber and went to town before they even finished unpacking. Char glanced at themselves in the mirror one last time before they became fully immobile with a wide grin and a jolly belly full of food. Char grumbled, cheeks wide with porridge, “Completely worth it.”
If you are celebrating Thanksgiving have a big meal on me! Otherwise, I hope your day goes well. <3
Thank you to the lovely
FatPup for commissioning this story!Finding Joy in the Gain
FatPup's Commission by Jollyguts
3000 words
Tiny puddles of sweat coalesced on the well-insulated tatami dojo floors underneath the wide gait of Char. The intense Charmeleon’s soft crimson-red scales glistened with sudor as they lifted their curled fist behind their head. With an angry vigor, their knuckles collided across the face of a feather-stuffed practice dummy held up by a flimsy stick, but the target merely rocked back and forth as if slapped by a Ribombee.
Char dropped to their knees. All 350 lbs of the chunky lizard thumped against their lap and jiggled as freely as gelatin. With a discontented sigh, they looked at themselves in the wall mirror of the dojo. What was supposed to be a tool to perfect a fighter’s form only reminded Char that they were fat. There was no denying it.
The Charmeleon was hitting weights surpassing the very Makuhita that owned this dojo. Endless nights of delectable and high-calorie foods had taken a toll on their body. There were no clothes that fit them anymore - not at their height. What remained center in view was their corpulent belly that bulged lower and lower as time went by. This pure ball of girth was a testament to how gargantuan their appetite was becoming and was a curious topic around town. Char had made their weight a growing point of gossip among those in and out of the dojo, especially around food vendors who accepted their payment gleefully.
Then came their legs, which wobbled with every one of their laborious steps. Tremors rattled the floors as they shuddered forward like a penguin. Their meaty thighs were engorged to the point where they endlessly brushed against each other and threatened not to fit into chairs. The soft sandy-hued padding of their feet were unaccustomed to the wear and tear of walking and instead frequently lay dormant in spas or the floors of traveling carts.
Char’s stubby arms unconsciously held the climax of their belly as they were idle, kneading the flesh to calm their roaring digestion. Their biceps drooped with pure adipose and curved with hardly any muscle. The Char’s tail was beginning to be engulfed by their encroaching, and ever-jiggling posterior.
Char shook their sweaty head, lungs pitifully fighting for breath. They had only been here for around ten minutes and they were already feeling the burn.
“Ah, screw it-” The Charmeleon allowed their body to fall backward. Their back splattered on the ground and shuddered from the impact. Every hill of their body jiggled with a softness only replicable by a water bed. And yet, Char curled their head toward the mirror again to watch their stomach fill and deflate with air and smirked.
“A little heavy on the five-meat pizza before coming here, ay Char?” the stout, fiery-reptile growled to themselves. Then came an intense cramp in their lower left back. Char grimaced and curled their arm toward their chubby haunch to massage the soft flesh. The “water weight”, or so they called it, displaced as easily as spreading butter on toast. They nodded their head. “Guess I better rest up for tomorrow.”
With the poor excuse to leave, Char ended their workout there for the day. With a few burgers that were about to go bad, Char went to sleep with a taut belly full of delectable meat and cheese. Hardly the diet for someone so concerned about their weight.
The next day began with Char waking up around several chip bags and crumbs dressing their belly. Paying no mind to that, Char built up some courage to return to the dojo with some sugar to get them to their feet. The stout Charmeleon swallowed down some melted ice cream that had been laying out for a day and made the ever-slowing trek to Makuhita’s dojo.
After stretching, Char felt absolutely drained. They stared at themselves in the mirror after barely breaking a sweat. Sighing, the doughy lizard folded their chubby arms behind their head and with a wide grin told their reflection, “Let’s build up some energy for tomorrow! This is normal for losing weight, right? Rest is the most important part, hehe…”
Char reluctantly wobbled outside of the dojo to the natural rock-formation spas just a few steps away. They sat next to a gargantuan Blastoise that was triple their height and just as wide. To the Blastoise’s right lounged a burly Machoke. Both of their bodies flooded the pool with their girth, especially because of the girthy Blastoise. The two stared at Char as the little lizard lifted their tail flame well above the water and relaxed. Char groaned a carefree sigh of relief from their aching body and had a fantastic conversation about their favorite meals.
Then Char had every one of their suggestions when they got home and the following three days.
There was no denying it - Char loved eating. Was this a problem? Were they hurting anyone because of it? There were days when Char would find empty food containers around their hut they had no recollection of eating. This only saddened them, because then they had to find something else to eat.
Char recalled a moment in time when they could see below their belly but those times had long since passed. Their gut jutted so far in front of them that if they dropped something, chances are they wouldn’t find it again, let alone find the strength to bend over to pick it back up. And it was that realization that Char made certain to keep extra snacks on hand for just that occasion.
It was a blessing that Char had talked with that Blastoise and Machoke that day, for they no longer could reach their back to wash it. They were more than happy to do so, and never questioned the Charmeleon’s rapidly bloating body besides a few snickers between the two. Days of gorging themselves had bloated out their moobs, their arms, and their gut to the point where they were making Machoke’s body look lithe. Despite their daily trek to the dojo, there were no signs of Char’s weight dropping.
They hated working out. The daily walk to the dojo was beginning to tucker Char out so much that by the time they got there they just wanted to lounge in the spa. After a few weeks, Char had stopped the walk at all. Instead, they maintained their walk to several food vendors every day, a workout that Char believed was satisfactory, especially with how hot it was making them. It wouldn’t be long until Char knew the names of every food vendor, their daily sales, and the quickest route between all of them. And it was then that Char realized - the extra heft to their step didn’t bother them in the slightest.
Three months have passed since that time.
Char was lovingly cozy in their tiny Charmander head hut on the outskirts of the bustling mercantile village. They lounged firmly planted on a rickety rocking chair, their back fat pushing and curling against the corners of the chair like a cookie cutter against dough. To their left was a table with a greasy box of fried chicken, three containers of mashed potatoes slathered with an absurd amount of buttery gravy, and mac and cheese with chili swimming in its cheesy sauce. Above these containers was a stack of cookies which were delectable treats to easily snack on throughout the day.
To Char’s right was another wooden table, this much larger than the left (because they grew tired of getting up to set more food on the other table). There sat a massive baking sheet full of cinnamon rolls, three boxes of extra-large pizzas, several liters of soda, five burgers wrapped to maintain their heat, a few baskets of fries slathered with melted cheese and bacon, and an entire ham dressed with brown sugar and a scrumptious cherry glaze.
Char’s beefy arms pressed against their globular moobs as they reached for each food item with starved anticipation, methodically dipping their sausage-like fingers in each plate to test each morsel against their taste buds. They shivered only at the most succulent tastes, fully embracing every portion of the food’s taste with the intensity of a gourmand. The comparatively tiny rocking chair’s curved legs ached as their weight shifted to and from both legs. Char’s chubby face drooped like a bloodhound with a double-chinned grin as they ate whole slices of the ham with no utensils, watered it down with a massive chug of lemon soda, and then rested their digestion with a mighty helping of heavy potatoes. The salt coalesced with the butter well, and the spicy kick of pepper made Char’s mouth water for more.
But they craved cheese. Char’s tongue licked across their salivating mouth and eyed the several boxes of pizza. The Charmeleon leaned forward, stopping abruptly because their stomach was in the way. They crashed back down into the chair, giving a lethargic wheeze before reaching forward a second, this time rocking the chair with them.
Char’s fingers grasped the edges of the grease-lined cardboard boxes and brought them to their flabby chest. Despite being extra large pizzas, their stomach was wider than these boxes. Much wider; wider by several inches at this point but who's counting? They thought their belly was the perfect table to rest the dough on, and it was there that the three boxes remained until all of their contents were gone, shoved down their ever-expanding gullet.
A heavy groan radiated through the small hut. Char was bloated. They did just eat 9000 calories in one sitting, after all. The Charmeleon placed their chubby hands on the curvature of their love handles and settled back into the aching rocking chair. They shuffled the fat around, digging their fingers several inches into the blubber, and took a deep breath. Char gulped as they felt bubbles rising through their throat, and out came a barrage of meaty bwarrrps that smelled of the meats and gravy they had just eaten.
And yet, the smell reminded them that there was so much more to be had.
“Pelipper Food Service!” Called from outside Char’s shoddy wooden door.
Through the gaps between the wood paneling of Char’s walls, they saw the glorious white feathers of Pelipper’s wings flap away. Char rested for several minutes underneath the hill of pizza boxes, utterly exhausted from their meal. Char groaned as they heard Pelipper stacking the boxes outside their door.
“Hey… Hey!” Char growled weakly, but Pelipper was far too fast. They turned tail, and before Char could wobble to their feet, the bird had already flown away.
If only they had delivered inside their hut like they requested! Once the morbidly obese Char gathered enough “strength” to rise to their feet, they licked their greasy fingers free of grease and sauce and pushed the pizza boxes onto the floor. The three boxes landed next to several empty containers of doughnuts, rice cakes, and so much more.
Char rocked the chair forwards and back again and again until the momentum was great enough to where they could hear their belly slush. The legs of the rocking chair curled as the weight shifted more and more rapidly against its quickly diminishing stability. With a great heave, Char stumbled onto their legs, where their stomach immediately slushed downward and slapped heavily on their lap. Their sauce-and-crumb-covered moobs wobbled frantically, and their distended rump gave a resplendent break dance to an audience of none. Their legs raptured against the dirt floors, and their fatty feet swam through an ocean of leftover containers.
Wheezing from just getting to their feet, Char’s chest and stomach inflated and deflated rapidly with air. They shuffled one leg after another, unable to see the mess on the floor underneath the overhang of their morbidly obese belly. And yet they held a smile as they could smell more food outside that they could add to their collection. Their mouth watered.
The palms of their bloated hands rapped against their distended gut as all they could think about was more food. Their eyes relaxed and their tongue rolled out of their mouth hungrily as they opened the door to see a dozen more crates of food from all the vendors around town. At this point, Char custom ordered the vendors to deliver a portion of food from every food group, no matter what it was. It kept their taste buds wanting newer foods, never bored of a single taste. Thankfully, they were never bored of new flavors in this village, and it helped keep their gluttonous urges at bay.
But they came across the first hurdle that was becoming more and more of an issue: their door. Char became accustomed to shifting their body to the side and sidling out of their door meant for the small Charmander they used to be not so long ago, but even that was becoming quite a task.
“Good grief…” Char grumbled, hiding a grin in the shadows of their rotund, curvy face. Did they like this?
Char held their belly close and pressed their back against the door frame. Sucking in their gut did nothing nowadays. They had to push and pull their stomach manually with their hands now like pulling a hippo through a manhole in the middle of the road. Char grinned as they felt their hands on their belly and took great pride in kneading it and massaging it through. They felt their fat rear wobble against the door frame, completely lodging themselves against both walls of the entrance to their home. A bead of sweat dribbled down Char’s face as they hefted themselves through to the great outdoors.
They faced downwards to the crates, heaving for breath, and stood wide. At one point of their life, this would have been such an easy task. Now they had to think about every step of the way as if it could be a wild journey. Their hindquarters jutted feet outwards as they bent forward. The weight of their belly transferred from their legs to their back, and their balance completely shifted. Their breathing grew as they reached the first crate. Muscles tensed underneath their layers upon layers of fat. Their thighs were on fire, and they felt like they could fall forward and belly-flop on top of their score at any second.
But they wouldn’t have any of that - this was precious cargo. Char huffed, sweat pooled in the pits of their fatty flabs, and they lifted the crate up. They stopped for a few seconds to catch their breath, then repeated the process by pushing themselves inside.
The sun was beginning to set on the horizon as they grabbed the last crate. It looked like Char had run miles over the last hour or so; their scales glistened with luster, their chest expanded and deflated as they fought for breath, and their entire body trembled from using muscles they hadn’t used in so very long. Char stumbled forward, each step laborious and lethargic. Their belly quaked with every footfall. Their eyes only saw one thing: their chair.
Char turned, great ass spreading nearly as wide as the arms of the chair were, and down collapsed the tired glutton. Immediately, there was a snap of wood, and Char’s momentum did not stop. Their legs engaged as if they could hold up all of the falling weight, and then Char’s arms swiped at the air to grab onto nothing to support them. The first part of their body to hit the floor was the very same ass that tore through the chair. Their cheeks pancaked softly onto the ground, followed by their rolling belly that crunched the arms of the wooden chair like it was made of glass.
Char groaned and rolled onto their back, where they glanced up at the ceiling and laughed. “Oh Char…” they grumbled to themselves, “We’ll need a bigger chair, ay?”
The rotund creature lay on the floor for the remainder of their feast, pulling whatever food they could reach into their mighty gullet. It was only when they had finally glutted themselves into a food coma that the influx of food stopped forcing down their mouth hole. Char smiled the entire time, fully realizing something that they had denied for so very long. They enjoyed being fat.
Two years have passed since that day.
Char stopped in the center of the dojo and looked toward the mirrors lining the walls from floor to ceiling. They hadn’t been here for quite some time, but it reminded them of their past selves; their much smaller selves. It was here that they got a perfect picture of themselves for the first time in so very long. There wasn’t a mirror big enough to get a glimpse of their entire body in the village except here. What little features remained of the Char before this ballooning transformation was the wide grin across their doughy face. But that was about all that was recognizable.
Char stepped closer to a mirror, seeing below their distended gut for the first time in a year. What a fatass they had become! Their entire lower body was now a giant, ever-shaking monolith of pure fat. Char lifted up each trunk-like leg with a deep huff. Their strides could no longer push further than half a foot - their fatty thighs wouldn’t allow it. The tatami floor mats bent underneath each monstrous step of Char. Entire rooms quivered at the arrival of such a gluttonous creature bursting with an abundance of unadulterated fat. These legs were so fat that it was difficult for someone to fully wrap their arms around in a hug. So big that Char could no longer fit into doors unless the establishment was made for the biggest Pokemon around. They cackled as they slapped their thigh and watched the meat jiggle.
Their stalwart lower body was only a tool to hold up the tremendous mound of meat above it. Char’s body was unrecognizable as a creature’s body, let alone a Charmeleon’s body. Their stomach rounded outwards several feet in front of them, curving at several points along their torso in a pancake-like layer of soft, malleable flesh. The center point of their entire body was their belly, which had developed into two drooping wings split between their belly button. Their stomach, ever as engorged as taut as a drum, fell heavily against their thighs and stretched below their knees. This made it impossible to walk in any stance other than a leisurely wobble. And yet, Char held onto the front of their belly as if it were some sort of trophy to be displayed.
The Charmeleon lifted their arm, which was fatter than their very face. The complete lack of muscle definition made their arms look more like an inflated sack of water that displaced its weight with the world’s gravity. They flexed their arms, their biceps so bloated that they pressed against their cheeks and drooped down below their chest with the consistency of melty dough. They turned to flex their back, where they saw their tail for the first time in ages. The flame was as bright and lively as ever, but the length of their tail was nearly gone underneath the two globes of a dump truck.
Makuhita entered the dojo, bowing as they spotted Char. With a grin, the stout, yellow creature exclaimed, “This will be your new home now. The doors are wide enough for you. There is plenty of space to sit.”
Char had a moment of realization of what they were here for and their heart sank. Char looked at themselves in the mirror again, only feeling regret for a split second before they heard a very familiar flapping of wings. Pelipper Food Service.
But there were several pairs of wings slicing through the air. Not one, but five Pelippers carried crates upon crates of food through the air. All five panted until they found enough air to gasp, “P-Pelipper… Food… Service…”
Char rapped their belly excitedly as they began stacking the food in the corner of the dojo until the pile was as large as a truck. Upon sight of the crates, their stomach began to gurgle as if crying out for more to eat. The Pelippers gave Char a wide berth, afraid that if the Charmeleon’s legs finally gave out, the topple down could decimate the very foundation of the dojo. However, they each held a smile and bowed.
Char nodded their head as best as their engorged neck would allow. They said excitedly, “Thank you… and did you bring any beef dumplings?”
One Pelipper held a wing into the air and gave it a flourish. Makuhita began to unpack the crates for Char, stacking them on fold-out tables so each dish was easily reachable. The Charmeleon sniffed the air and targeted the sizzling beef wrapped in the dough immediately. They gulped down a globule of slobber and went to town before they even finished unpacking. Char glanced at themselves in the mirror one last time before they became fully immobile with a wide grin and a jolly belly full of food. Char grumbled, cheeks wide with porridge, “Completely worth it.”
Category Story / Fat Furs
Species Pokemon
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 106.9 kB
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