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A fantastic request by \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tThoron\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t		\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tThoron\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
","writing":"Bigger.\n\nMuscles strained and slid under his glistening hide, massive and swollen after years of hard training. He had worked so very hard to get where he now was, but it wasn't enough. Despite his well-off physique, despite the turned heads and jealous looks he got, despite the ass he could get with a sultry glare, he still needed to get bigger.\n\nHe sat on a bench, his biceps rippling as he curled a thirty pound dumbbell. He was hunched forward a bit, his shoulders huge and bulging under his white athletic tank - a bit of clothing that clung tight as skin and didn't quite reach his waist. His abdominal muscles shone as sweat ran down them, and tight buttocks hard as boulders covered a fair bit of the bench beneath him. His thighs were massive, like tree trunks. \n\nHe imagined them bigger, all of them: his thighs too huge to walk normally - shelf like rump peeking out of the top of his short, blue shorts - pecs too massive to allow his enormous arms to reach forward - shoulders like mountains burying his head. He began to stir in his shorts, and decided it was time to think about something else.\n\nThere was a skunk across the way on the leg machine, thin and angular, with a full bubble-but. He grinned a confident grin, hoping he looked inviting enough to score a workout buddy/shower mate. The skunk caught his gaze, blushed, and quickly looked away. \n\nDenied. \n\nHis smile faded somewhat, and he turned away. Like he wanted some skinny twink anyway. Then he spotted a newcomer. Big. Way big - but not in the way the fox was big. This guy was chubster numero uno, easily the fattest guy he'd ever seen in this place. He must have weighed four hundred pounds plus. \n\nThe panda had just reached the top of the stairs and wheezed as he leaned against the wall. His gray shirt was huge, but not quite big enough. A good strip of his soft, bulbous belly was clearly visible, drooped as it was far over the hem of his baggy basketball shorts. The fox could see it coming, practically feel it. His grin broadened again. All of the new ones - not the ones from other gyms, but the ones that had literally no experience - would always come asking for advice.\n\nThe fox was the biggest guy in the gym, and everyone knew it. Naturally, the newcomers would eventually find their way to him. He was used to giving out tips, reveled in it even. And there it was; they'd made eye contact. He laughed, loud and hard, as he realized he wasn't the biggest anymore. That title went to the lardass waddling his way. \n\nHe was still laughing when the panda stopped in front of him. The big guy panted as heavily as ever, and his chubby face flushed as he tried forming words between breaths.\n\n\"H... hey, do you... t... think you could....\"\n\nThe fox spoke, a sharp bark-voice as his laughter died down.\n\n\"Yeah, sure, you want help or whatever. Here -\" the fox said as he slid down the bench, \"- take a seat, Lardo.\" If the panda disliked his tone or the nickname, he hardly conveyed it as the bench groaned beneath his tremendous weight. He was probably just relieved to have somewhere to plop his fat ass down. Hell, he was probably used to the nicknames by now. The fox's grin only broadened; he had a lot of those right now. \n\nThe panda still wheezed beside him. The fox reached for his sports bag, opened the drawstring, and pulled out a rather tall thermos. He proffered it to the panda, who took it slowly and gave him a \"what's this?\" look. \"Just drink it, Tubbs. That stuff 'ill make you big in no time.\" The panda unscrewed the lid, gave the stuff a quick sniff, and tilted it back. His throat muscles worked beneath the neck-flab, and the fox stared in morbid fascination as a rivulet of the thick fluid rolled down the panda's face.\n\nIt was the fox's own calorie-mix, stuff he'd blended himself to give him the massive amounts of energy he needed for his intense workouts. He'd already had a serving that morning before he came in. There were two servings left in that thermos for a couple of breaks during the day. Easily more than four thousand calories... and the fatass was downing it like some breakfast shake. He ran an index finger up the guy's pudgy face, scooping up as much of the goop as he could. Expensive stuff, this. The panda eyed him as he finished the last of the stuff, and pulled the thermos away. The fox put his finger to the panda's lips, and they opened as soon as the pig realized what was on it. \n\nA powerful tongue went to work on that finger. The connotations were hardly subtle. \"I bet you suck some mean cock, Gordo.\" He reclaimed his finger as the panda looked at him, eyes set and serious as cancer.\n\n\"I'd suck cock for another one of those shakes.\"\n\nThe fox eyed him over, his breasts big and sagging, his ass and gut drooping over either side of the bench, his back-fat bulbous enough to warrant its own bra.... He just smiled his toothy grin; this whole thing got better with every passing moment.\n\n\"I bet you would, Fatass.\" He patted the side of the panda's fat face. \"You'll get the training you want. We'll talk payment later, eigh?\" He'd never fucked a fat guy before. \"Let's get to work\"\n\nThe panda stood, a careful business of deep breaths and a long grunt before shifting his weight to his feet. The fox twisted around to lie down on the bench. \"We're gonna start with the bench press.\" He slid back underneath the bar, reached up and placed his hands in their ideal positions. \"Go around back. You're going to spot for me.\"\n\n***\n\nThe panda waddled around to the back of the bench. The meathead wanted him to spot? Fine. He made sure to stand far back from the bar, but his gargantuan gut spanned the gap anyway. His navel, hanging out of the bottom of his shirt, was undoubtedly inches from the fox's face. He didn't much care. The guy was an asshole, easy as that. He was glad his own pudge blocked most of the guy from view. \n\n\"Basically when you spot, it's your job to make sure your partner is doing things proper-like. Keep him from hurting himself, hear?\" He could practically feel the smile that he knew was plastered across the fox's face. \"Not that I'll be needing any of that. Just watch and learn, eigh, Fatass?\" Seemed like the asshole found one that stuck. \n\nHe stood for several minutes, watching little more than the weights rise into his line of sight before they sank back below his gut-horizon. At least he wasn't the one exerting himself. Didn't stop him from sweating, though. He swore below his breath. This was taking longer than he'd hoped. The panda stood there for what seemed like an eternity, endured insults, pretended to listen, and nodded or grunted whenever he thought the fox wanted feedback.\n\n\"Eigh, Fatass, you still there?\" As though he couldn't see him. What a comedian. \"Go check my bag, grab me a water, huh?\" The weights still pumped furiously. The panda finally had an opportunity. He crossed over to the fox's athletic bag, and hesitated for a moment. His knees were already killing him. He bent down and fetched the bag. Water bottle with a straw – easy. Small paper packet from his shorts pocket - simple enough. \n\nHe waddled back behind the fox, unscrewed the cap to the bottle, and poured the contents of the packet in. It dissolved quickly enough, and the fluid turned a harsh blue. He gave it a swirl just to be sure. Replaced the cap. Tried to hold the bottle at head-level to the fox, but couldn't see around his stomach. Turned sideways. Jackpot. \n\n\"Jeez, dude, took you long enough.\" The fox pulled from the straw until he'd finished nearly half of the bottle. He smacked his lips. \"Eeyuch. Didn't know I got the flavored crap. Fuckin' hate blueberry.\" \n\nIt was almost instant. Within a few seconds, the panda began to notice a shift in color in the fox's face. His lips and tongue were the first to change, first a tinted purple and eventually a deep blue. The fox didn't notice that his angular face, primarily his cheeks, had flushed and quickly turned color. The panda looked down the bench, beneath the lower hem of the fox's athletic tank. Those washboard abs had already changed color. The fox had stopped lifting. The panda looked back to his face, and locked eyes with the grinning bastard. \n\n\"Checking me out, huh?\" The panda sighed. The guy was too busy talking at him to realize his arms weren't quite orange anymore. The reaction had kicked up a bit – the changes were more uniform now, and even his fur had started to go. \"Don't worry, Fatass, we'll be familiar-like real soon, now.\"\n\nThe fox's eyes had lit up as he said it, and his grin faded into a look of discomfort. He replaced the bar on its rack and began to sit up. \"Stomach feels fuckin' weird–the FUCK?\" He'd finally noticed. The panda slowly waddled his way around the bench as the fox stood, arms out in front of him. \"The fuck am I goin' fuckin' BLUE for?!\" The panda stooped, and dropped his weight back on the bench – it was good to sit again.\n\n\"Lemme see.\" The fox's douchbaggery had practically evaporated, desperate as he was. He wheeled about and stood in front of the panda; his arms were still out in front of him, and his eyes darted about his own body.\n\n\"It's fuckin' EVERYWHERE!\" The big guy was attracting attention now. All eyes in the gym were on him and the lardass. \n\n\"Closer.\" The panda reached forward, and tugged on the guy's tank. The fox shifted forward, and had to spread his legs to straddle the panda's gut. \"Hmm. Yep, you're definitely turning blue.\" His nose was practically pressed into the fox's abdomen as he hooked a finger over the hem of his shorts and slid them down in one quick motion. \n\n\"H-HEY, the fuck you DOIN'?!\" The fox began to move; his arms pushed at the panda as he tried to get away, but his eyes went wide and his hands moved to his middle. He hunched forward and groaned. \"My fuckin' stomach....\" The panda watched as it began to swell, as the definition of the fox's impressive abdominal muscles began to disappear. He pulled he fox back toward him, and ran the side of his muzzle across the length of the hardening dick.\n\n\"Like I said.... I want that shake recipe.\" He breathed in deep, enjoying a scent he rarely indulged in. \"Not like you'll be needing it anymore.\" He opened his maw, and slid the length of the fox's cock across his tongue.\n\nThe fox groaned. He pressed his hands into his stomach in a vain attempt to hold it back. The bloated feeling was incredibly intense, like nothing he'd ever experienced before. He watched, mortified, as his fur finally settled into the bluest of blues, and felt a pang of panic. It wasn't enough, though, none of it was enough to convince him to pull out of the Fatass' mouth. \n\nAs soon as his head had touched down, the panda's tongue had gone to work on his dick. It dragged across his sensitive skin and wrapped around his shaft tight as hell, and occasionally there would be a moment of immense suction when the panda sucked at his cock with all he had. He watched the panda's plump face as he worked. His eyes were half-lidded and indifferent, staring in sharp concentration at the fox's groin. \n\nThe fox realized he was moaning. He looked up and saw that the gym had all but emptied out. Apparently this was too weird for the mainstream fit-fur. There were a couple stragglers, undoubtedly enjoying the show. As he looked at them in turn, they tried to pretend they weren't watching... all except for one. The skinny skunk kid from across the way stared right at him, and seemed to relish his front-row seat with tented shorts.\n\nThe fox gasped – the panda had pulled at his dick again like some massive, thick straw. He turned his head back, and was shocked to see the majority of the bear's face was hidden behind his own orb of a stomach, basketball-sized and apparently swelling faster than ever. \n\nHe was terrified. He had no idea what was happening to him, he had no idea if it was going to stop, but he just couldn't pull his dick out of that eager mouth. He started thrusting, gently at first, but he quickly transitioned to a full-blown face fuck, his dick sliding between the panda's lips and lancing at the back of his throat. The panda groaned on his cock, a sound that diminished to a gurgle whenever his dick slid far enough into his maw. \n\nHe felt a pudgy paw grip his asscheek, and noticed it must have been growing, too. His legs and arms had lost definition and were now nearly smooth as they bloated up. He felt so heavy, so full... he knew this wasn't right as he cried out, the bear's paw guiding his waist to and fro, his groin slapping at the panda's muzzle. He had to hold his sloshing belly up to keep it out of the panda's way. His knees trembled, exhausted after straddling the bear's sizable gut for so long. He pulled back one last time, his cock jerking in the panda's tongue-grasp, and slammed home as hard as he could. He practically screamed as he shot his load, rope after thick rope of fox jizz sent direct into the panda's wanting jaws. \n\nIt felt like an eternity. The panda could feel the fox's form change in his grasp; there was much more of the big meathead now. The stomach that rested on his head was incredibly heavy, and the pawful of ass he held was rotund to say the least. He finally pulled his head back, and let the fox's still-hard dick spring back to attention. The fox's breath was heavy. The bear looked up, unaccustomed to his vision being blocked by a belly other than his own. \n\n“Step back a bit.” The fox snapped back to it, and remembered what was happening. The bear sighed – this guy seriously was a meathead. \n\n“L... like this? D-do you know what's happening to me?” He moved back, arms now out to the side, and looked down. “SHIT!” He said it on a breath, drawn out and quiet. He'd gotten even bigger since he last checked, his gut sagging considerably and now wrapped around his sides. His arms and legs were immensely bloated, his thighs pressed together down to nearly his knees.\n\n“Yes, I do. How do you feel?”\n\n“I... I don't know, just k-kinda funny, I guess?” He gulped, discomfort set in his face clear as day as his hands ran down the taut fabric of his clothing. It had stretched far beyond its capacity, and the panda could hear it protest against its swelling occupant. “Really f... funny, actually. Is this gonna s-stop?” \n\n“That depends.” He motioned towards the fox's clothes. “Take 'em off.” The fox didn't hesitate. It was a struggle to remove his tank – it clung at his shoulders and neck, rings indented in his bloated flesh where it clung mercilessly. His shorts were simpler, if anything. He looked strange without clothing. His blue fur clashed with the colors of the training equipment and decor of the the place. He was swelling visibly now. \n\nThe fox groaned as he hunched forward once more, hands back on his stomach. Its sag had reduced as it bloated out, now taut and shiny. His back had blimped up as well as his swollen love handles, a new edition on his previously herculean body, grew in size. White showed about his eyes as he watched his cheeks' horizon spread upward into his vision – he could even feel his neck swelling, all the way down to his chest. He shuddered. His pecs used to be massive, chiseled things. Now they were glorified breasts, blue and bloated, his upper arms now as thick as his waist had been before this fiasco.\n\n“Hands and knees, buddy, look alive there.” The fox moved once more, hesitation little more than an afterthought. He got down on his knees with some difficulty, and as he leaned forward to plant his palms on the floor he was shocked to discover that his belly not only met the level surface, but spread out gratuitously to either side of him. \n\n“W.. what is this for?” The panda considered the beast before him. All of those nicknames forgotten now, all the snide remarks and wide smiles a distant memory in the mind of the fox, likely obedient from sheer fright alone. \n\n“It'll help things along. Make everything easier.” The panda took in a sharp breath and rocked forward, the weight of his gut somewhat easing his transition into a standing position. He let the breath out. “For everyone involved, I'm sure.” He put up a slow waddle; his legs rolled wide to avoid uncomfortable friction between his thighs. There were only a few paces between he and the fox, and he took them slowly. His shirt was drenched at this point – he'd worked so hard today. Fresh sweat beaded on his brow from the effort of standing alone. He figured he deserved a bit of a break.\n\nThe fox continued to swell. The bear watched as the poor fellow's arms readjusted their position every few seconds to accommodate both their own growth and that of his chest and belly. His face was flushed with the effort, and sweat of his own ran down his cheeks. \n\n“I... I don't think I can keep this up....” His arms were nearly at their limit; their potential reach for the floor was quickly being swallowed by his bloating body. A thought dawned on him. “A... am I going to explode?” The panda shrugged before him as his hands fiddled under his massive gut. \n\n“Depends.” The black-and-white bear's shorts slid down his thunder thighs, and the fox stared at the panda's mid-section, private bits hidden beneath his belly. \n\n“O... on what?!” The panda cupped the fox's swollen face in his pudgy paws. He shuffled forward and guided the captive head under his gut, now out of view. He struggled a bit down there, no doubt offended by the warm damp of his nether region. His gut came to a jiggling rest atop the fox's shoulders and back as he felt his fatpad part around the intruding snout.\n\n“Oof... on whether or not the customer is satisfied as-is.”\n\nThe fox struggled as he could, but his arms no longer touched the ground. They were quickly becoming horizontal as his expanding body encroached upon the empty space around him. His legs were bent diagonally, and his feet still held purchase on the floor, but they would lose that soon enough. He cried tears of pain as the fat guy's sweat stung his eyes, his nostrils burning with the smell. \n\nSuddenly he felt hands on his sides, and legs brushed against his own. They kicked his aside, and then there were thighs pressed tight against his bloated backside. He gasped, and the panda's dick found its way between his lips as the fat pillow slid over and around his muzzle like a plunger. It was hard to breathe down here. He couldn't see the intruder. Couldn't even smell him for the stench of the panda – but the fox knew it was a he. He knew immediately as the guy's cock slid between his cheeks and drove home back there, and he tried to cry out.\n\nThe panda gasped – it had been a very, very long time since he'd felt another fur's tongue down there. He grunted. “Get to work down there.” The groaning on his dick was fine – great, even – but he wasn't going to miss out on such an opportunity. The skunk across the way seemed to think along similar lines. \n\n“L-listen to 'im....” The skinnier one had struck up a quick, staccato rhythm on the fox's rump which sent ripples across the bloating body that the panda could actually feel. “He's moaning like a bitch, ain' he?” The panda was nearly moaning himself. \n\n“That... that'd be... the aphrodisiac... in the mix....” He took a moment to collect himself and try to catch his breath. “Glad you paid for it now, huh?” The skunk was silent a moment as he listened to the fox sing earnestly to his beat. \n\n“Fuckin' hell, best money I ever spent....” The panda shivered, hands on either side of his jiggling stomach. The fox's groans grew more intense with each passing moment as his tongue wrestled against the bear's shaft.\n\n“Gods, so am I....” He didn't usually get aphro-jobs. Just the protesting ones that tended to bite. His heart raced hard and painful in his chest. His face flushed – it had only been a few moments now, and he knew that, but that tongue... gods. He closed his eyes as he twitched between the fox's teeth, and stickily coated the inside of the muffled muzzle.\n\nHe backed away, and the fox's voice grew suddenly more audible. He felt gossamer strings of seed and spit string between his groin and the fox's lips; those lips were constantly parted as he cried out in perfect harmony to the skunk's insistent thrusts. He had grown considerably now, his oblate hide creaking beneath his lithe fuck-buddy. There were round lump-like protrusions where his hands and feet should have been, fingers and toes just visible on the outer edges of his obscene body. His head had sunken in a fair bit, round and bloated and blue. He struggled with his voice, and managed a few words.\n\n“H... how.... long?” The panda hefted his shorts up, and only half cared that they didn't entirely cover his shelf-like ass. \n\nThe panda managed to wheeze, “ Pardon?” The fox struggled to moan and breathe and talk at once. \n\n“When.. do I... go... back to... normal?” The panda shrugged and looked to the skunk. \n\n“Depends.” \n\nThe skunk merely increased his speed, slapped the fox's massive side, and said, “You don't.”\n\nThe waddling trek back across the room was arduous to say the least – the panda was entirely spent. He reached the landing at the same time as two company guys coming up; the horse and lion both towered over the panda. \n\n“D'you pay the owner yet?” The two had each looked across the room, and gave a hint of a smile at the sight. The horse answered.\n\n“Eeyup. Got a crew comin' to take the wall out now.” The panda elbowed the horse knowingly, dropped his voice a bit, and gave him a wink.\n\n“We definitely got a cocksucker.” The horse's faint smile turned to a full-on grin. \n\n“Well then, guess he's gonna be popular, huh?” They moved to cross the room, and the panda called out to them.\n\n“Hey guys, do me a favor – get 'im talking, huh? Poor bastard owes me a shake recipe.” \n\n***\n\nTime passed haphazardly for the bloated fox. The first several hours after the gym had been a blur while his ass had ached from the skunk's enthusiastic abuse. Those two guys, the big ones, had thrown a sheet over him. He heard construction-noises for some time, and felt a breeze. There was vertigo, and he heard several voices of people working around him. Then there was the rumble of a motor as he lay blind in what he assumed was the back of a cargo truck. \n\nThey only removed the sheet once he'd been placed in his room, a bleak brickwork ordeal that looked rather old. There were no windows, and the few dim lights there were remained off for the most part of the day. They turned on occasionally when the doctors checked in on him, but that only happened on weekends. They were the ones monitoring his life support; they made sure he stayed in a drug-induced stupor most of the time. The most activity he saw, however, was when he got visitors. \n\nThe skunk showed up every day. The skinny bastard was relentless, and fucked him mercilessly; he'd lay across the fox, his entire weight supported by the bubble-beast, while he bounced his waist up and down, his groin striking a harsh, quick rhythm against the fox's ass. The fox could only lay there spread eagle, a prisoner in his own body, helpless to do anything against his assailant other than moan and take it. \n\nThe skunk would whisper to him in the act, share sweet nothings about how he owned him, about how as long as he made the monthly payments the Company would see to it that he'd never be anything other than his own, personal fucktoy. But the fox knew that wasn't true. Not entirely, anyway. The skunk would get dressed and leave, and after a few short minutes the men would come one after another to slip their cocks in his muzzle. Money swapped hands. Strangers used him. He was the personal fucktoy of every horny stud in this place, plus whichever acquaintances of theirs had the money and the balls. \n\nThe horse from the gym, the one the threw the sheet over him, the one with the massive dick, was always the first. The fox would see him through hazed eyes, the ache in his ass lingering from a fresh skunk-fuck, and he'd beg. The flared-tip would press against his lips, and he'd slide spit down the speckled shaft until he gagged down near its base. The horse would pull out before climax, and pat his face, and again the fox would beg.\n\nThe horse always obliged. The heart monitor would go into a frenzy, the drugs would drip faster, and the fox's immobile form would shudder under the horse's immense strength as that huge equine cock ravaged his wanting ass, still sore and lubed by the skunk's performance. The fox could have gotten off on the slick-plunger noises alone. \n\nThe feeling of that muscular form at his backside reminded him of the fox he used to be, the fox that had wanted to be so much bigger. That fox was gone, and now there was only an enormous, eager cock-slut permanently kept in a dim subterranean storeroom. He relished now, as his obscene form rippled beneath the sweating stud, the thought of all the dick that he could get by simply laying there. ","writing_bbcode_parsed":"Bigger.

Muscles strained and slid under his glistening hide, massive and swollen after years of hard training. He had worked so very hard to get where he now was, but it wasn't enough. Despite his well-off physique, despite the turned heads and jealous looks he got, despite the ass he could get with a sultry glare, he still needed to get bigger.

He sat on a bench, his biceps rippling as he curled a thirty pound dumbbell. He was hunched forward a bit, his shoulders huge and bulging under his white athletic tank - a bit of clothing that clung tight as skin and didn't quite reach his waist. His abdominal muscles shone as sweat ran down them, and tight buttocks hard as boulders covered a fair bit of the bench beneath him. His thighs were massive, like tree trunks.

He imagined them bigger, all of them: his thighs too huge to walk normally - shelf like rump peeking out of the top of his short, blue shorts - pecs too massive to allow his enormous arms to reach forward - shoulders like mountains burying his head. He began to stir in his shorts, and decided it was time to think about something else.

There was a skunk across the way on the leg machine, thin and angular, with a full bubble-but. He grinned a confident grin, hoping he looked inviting enough to score a workout buddy/shower mate. The skunk caught his gaze, blushed, and quickly looked away.

Denied.

His smile faded somewhat, and he turned away. Like he wanted some skinny twink anyway. Then he spotted a newcomer. Big. Way big - but not in the way the fox was big. This guy was chubster numero uno, easily the fattest guy he'd ever seen in this place. He must have weighed four hundred pounds plus.

The panda had just reached the top of the stairs and wheezed as he leaned against the wall. His gray shirt was huge, but not quite big enough. A good strip of his soft, bulbous belly was clearly visible, drooped as it was far over the hem of his baggy basketball shorts. The fox could see it coming, practically feel it. His grin broadened again. All of the new ones - not the ones from other gyms, but the ones that had literally no experience - would always come asking for advice.

The fox was the biggest guy in the gym, and everyone knew it. Naturally, the newcomers would eventually find their way to him. He was used to giving out tips, reveled in it even. And there it was; they'd made eye contact. He laughed, loud and hard, as he realized he wasn't the biggest anymore. That title went to the lardass waddling his way.

He was still laughing when the panda stopped in front of him. The big guy panted as heavily as ever, and his chubby face flushed as he tried forming words between breaths.

"H... hey, do you... t... think you could...."

The fox spoke, a sharp bark-voice as his laughter died down.

"Yeah, sure, you want help or whatever. Here -" the fox said as he slid down the bench, "- take a seat, Lardo." If the panda disliked his tone or the nickname, he hardly conveyed it as the bench groaned beneath his tremendous weight. He was probably just relieved to have somewhere to plop his fat ass down. Hell, he was probably used to the nicknames by now. The fox's grin only broadened; he had a lot of those right now.

The panda still wheezed beside him. The fox reached for his sports bag, opened the drawstring, and pulled out a rather tall thermos. He proffered it to the panda, who took it slowly and gave him a "what's this?" look. "Just drink it, Tubbs. That stuff 'ill make you big in no time." The panda unscrewed the lid, gave the stuff a quick sniff, and tilted it back. His throat muscles worked beneath the neck-flab, and the fox stared in morbid fascination as a rivulet of the thick fluid rolled down the panda's face.

It was the fox's own calorie-mix, stuff he'd blended himself to give him the massive amounts of energy he needed for his intense workouts. He'd already had a serving that morning before he came in. There were two servings left in that thermos for a couple of breaks during the day. Easily more than four thousand calories... and the fatass was downing it like some breakfast shake. He ran an index finger up the guy's pudgy face, scooping up as much of the goop as he could. Expensive stuff, this. The panda eyed him as he finished the last of the stuff, and pulled the thermos away. The fox put his finger to the panda's lips, and they opened as soon as the pig realized what was on it.

A powerful tongue went to work on that finger. The connotations were hardly subtle. "I bet you suck some mean cock, Gordo." He reclaimed his finger as the panda looked at him, eyes set and serious as cancer.

"I'd suck cock for another one of those shakes."

The fox eyed him over, his breasts big and sagging, his ass and gut drooping over either side of the bench, his back-fat bulbous enough to warrant its own bra.... He just smiled his toothy grin; this whole thing got better with every passing moment.

"I bet you would, Fatass." He patted the side of the panda's fat face. "You'll get the training you want. We'll talk payment later, eigh?" He'd never fucked a fat guy before. "Let's get to work"

The panda stood, a careful business of deep breaths and a long grunt before shifting his weight to his feet. The fox twisted around to lie down on the bench. "We're gonna start with the bench press." He slid back underneath the bar, reached up and placed his hands in their ideal positions. "Go around back. You're going to spot for me."

***

The panda waddled around to the back of the bench. The meathead wanted him to spot? Fine. He made sure to stand far back from the bar, but his gargantuan gut spanned the gap anyway. His navel, hanging out of the bottom of his shirt, was undoubtedly inches from the fox's face. He didn't much care. The guy was an asshole, easy as that. He was glad his own pudge blocked most of the guy from view.

"Basically when you spot, it's your job to make sure your partner is doing things proper-like. Keep him from hurting himself, hear?" He could practically feel the smile that he knew was plastered across the fox's face. "Not that I'll be needing any of that. Just watch and learn, eigh, Fatass?" Seemed like the asshole found one that stuck.

He stood for several minutes, watching little more than the weights rise into his line of sight before they sank back below his gut-horizon. At least he wasn't the one exerting himself. Didn't stop him from sweating, though. He swore below his breath. This was taking longer than he'd hoped. The panda stood there for what seemed like an eternity, endured insults, pretended to listen, and nodded or grunted whenever he thought the fox wanted feedback.

"Eigh, Fatass, you still there?" As though he couldn't see him. What a comedian. "Go check my bag, grab me a water, huh?" The weights still pumped furiously. The panda finally had an opportunity. He crossed over to the fox's athletic bag, and hesitated for a moment. His knees were already killing him. He bent down and fetched the bag. Water bottle with a straw – easy. Small paper packet from his shorts pocket - simple enough.

He waddled back behind the fox, unscrewed the cap to the bottle, and poured the contents of the packet in. It dissolved quickly enough, and the fluid turned a harsh blue. He gave it a swirl just to be sure. Replaced the cap. Tried to hold the bottle at head-level to the fox, but couldn't see around his stomach. Turned sideways. Jackpot.

"Jeez, dude, took you long enough." The fox pulled from the straw until he'd finished nearly half of the bottle. He smacked his lips. "Eeyuch. Didn't know I got the flavored crap. Fuckin' hate blueberry."

It was almost instant. Within a few seconds, the panda began to notice a shift in color in the fox's face. His lips and tongue were the first to change, first a tinted purple and eventually a deep blue. The fox didn't notice that his angular face, primarily his cheeks, had flushed and quickly turned color. The panda looked down the bench, beneath the lower hem of the fox's athletic tank. Those washboard abs had already changed color. The fox had stopped lifting. The panda looked back to his face, and locked eyes with the grinning bastard.

"Checking me out, huh?" The panda sighed. The guy was too busy talking at him to realize his arms weren't quite orange anymore. The reaction had kicked up a bit – the changes were more uniform now, and even his fur had started to go. "Don't worry, Fatass, we'll be familiar-like real soon, now."

The fox's eyes had lit up as he said it, and his grin faded into a look of discomfort. He replaced the bar on its rack and began to sit up. "Stomach feels fuckin' weird–the FUCK?" He'd finally noticed.  The panda slowly waddled his way around the bench as the fox stood, arms out in front of him. "The fuck am I goin' fuckin' BLUE for?!" The panda stooped, and dropped his weight back on the bench – it was good to sit again.

"Lemme see." The fox's douchbaggery had practically evaporated, desperate as he was. He wheeled about and stood in front of the panda; his arms were still out in front of him, and his eyes darted about his own body.

"It's fuckin' EVERYWHERE!" The big guy was attracting attention now. All eyes in the gym were on him and the lardass.

"Closer." The panda reached forward, and tugged on the guy's tank. The fox shifted forward, and had to spread his legs to straddle the panda's gut. "Hmm. Yep, you're definitely turning blue." His nose was practically pressed into the fox's abdomen as he hooked a finger over the hem of his shorts and slid them down in one quick motion.

"H-HEY, the fuck you DOIN'?!" The fox began to move; his arms pushed at the panda as he tried to get away, but his eyes went wide and his hands moved to his middle. He hunched forward and groaned. "My fuckin' stomach...." The panda watched as it began to swell, as the definition of the fox's impressive abdominal muscles began to disappear. He pulled he fox back toward him, and ran the side of his muzzle across the length of the hardening dick.

"Like I said.... I want that shake recipe." He breathed in deep, enjoying a scent he rarely indulged in. "Not like you'll be needing it anymore." He opened his maw, and slid the length of the fox's cock across his tongue.

The fox groaned. He pressed his hands into his stomach in a vain attempt to hold it back. The bloated feeling was incredibly intense, like nothing he'd ever experienced before. He watched, mortified, as his fur finally settled into the bluest of blues, and felt a pang of panic. It wasn't enough, though, none of it was enough to convince him to pull out of the Fatass' mouth.

As soon as his head had touched down, the panda's tongue had gone to work on his dick. It dragged across his sensitive skin and wrapped around his shaft tight as hell, and occasionally there would be a moment of immense suction when the panda sucked at his cock with all he had. He watched the panda's plump face as he worked. His eyes were half-lidded and indifferent, staring in sharp concentration at the fox's groin.

The fox realized he was moaning. He looked up and saw that the gym had all but emptied out. Apparently this was too weird for the mainstream fit-fur. There were a couple stragglers, undoubtedly enjoying the show. As he looked at them in turn, they tried to pretend they weren't watching... all except for one. The skinny skunk kid from across the way stared right at him, and seemed to relish his front-row seat with tented shorts.

The fox gasped – the panda had pulled at his dick again like some massive, thick straw. He turned his head back, and was shocked to see the majority of the bear's face was hidden behind his own orb of a stomach, basketball-sized and apparently swelling faster than ever.

He was terrified. He had no idea what was happening to him, he had no idea if it was going to stop, but he just couldn't pull his dick out of that eager mouth. He started thrusting, gently at first, but he quickly transitioned to a full-blown face fuck, his dick sliding between the panda's lips and lancing at the back of his throat. The panda groaned on his cock, a sound that diminished to a gurgle whenever his dick slid far enough into his maw.

He felt a pudgy paw grip his asscheek, and noticed it must have been growing, too. His legs and arms had lost definition and were now nearly smooth as they bloated up. He felt so heavy, so full... he knew this wasn't right as he cried out, the bear's paw guiding his waist to and fro, his groin slapping at the panda's muzzle. He had to hold his sloshing belly up to keep it out of the panda's way. His knees trembled, exhausted after straddling the bear's sizable gut for so long. He pulled back one last time, his cock jerking in the panda's tongue-grasp, and slammed home as hard as he could. He practically screamed as he shot his load, rope after thick rope of fox jizz sent direct into the panda's wanting jaws.

It felt like an eternity. The panda could feel the fox's form change in his grasp; there was much more of the big meathead now. The stomach that rested on his head was incredibly heavy, and the pawful of ass he held was rotund to say the least. He finally pulled his head back, and let the fox's still-hard dick spring back to attention. The fox's breath was heavy. The bear looked up, unaccustomed to his vision being blocked by a belly other than his own.

“Step back a bit.” The fox snapped back to it, and remembered what was happening. The bear sighed – this guy seriously was a meathead.

“L... like this? D-do you know what's happening to me?” He moved back, arms now out to the side, and looked down. “SHIT!” He said it on a breath, drawn out and quiet. He'd gotten even bigger since he last checked, his gut sagging considerably and now wrapped around his sides. His arms and legs were immensely bloated, his thighs pressed together down to nearly his knees.

“Yes, I do. How do you feel?”

“I... I don't know, just k-kinda funny, I guess?” He gulped, discomfort set in his face clear as day as his hands ran down the taut fabric of his clothing. It had stretched  far beyond its capacity, and the panda could hear it protest against its swelling occupant. “Really f... funny, actually. Is this gonna s-stop?”

“That depends.” He motioned towards the fox's clothes. “Take 'em off.” The fox didn't hesitate. It was a struggle to remove his tank – it clung at his shoulders and neck, rings indented in his bloated flesh where it clung mercilessly. His shorts were simpler, if anything. He looked strange without clothing. His blue fur clashed with the colors of the training equipment and decor of the the place. He was swelling visibly now.

The fox groaned as he hunched forward once more, hands back on his stomach. Its sag had reduced as it bloated out, now taut and shiny. His back had blimped up as well as his swollen love handles, a new edition on his previously herculean body, grew in size. White showed about his eyes as he watched his cheeks' horizon spread upward into his vision – he could even feel his neck swelling, all the way down to his chest. He shuddered. His pecs used to be massive, chiseled things. Now they were glorified breasts, blue and bloated, his upper arms now as thick as his waist had been before this fiasco.

“Hands and knees, buddy, look alive there.” The fox moved once more, hesitation little more than an afterthought. He got down on his knees with some difficulty, and as he leaned forward to plant his palms on the floor he was shocked to discover that his belly not only met the level surface, but spread out gratuitously to either side of him.

“W.. what is this for?” The panda considered the beast before him. All of those nicknames forgotten now, all the snide remarks and wide smiles a distant memory in the mind of the fox, likely obedient from sheer fright alone.

“It'll help things along. Make everything easier.” The panda took in a sharp breath and rocked forward, the weight of his gut somewhat easing his transition into a standing position. He let the breath out. “For everyone involved, I'm sure.” He put up a slow waddle; his legs rolled wide to avoid uncomfortable friction between his thighs. There were only a few paces between he and the fox, and he took them slowly. His shirt was drenched at this point – he'd worked so hard today. Fresh sweat beaded on his brow from the effort of standing alone. He figured he deserved a bit of a break.

The fox continued to swell. The bear watched as the poor fellow's arms readjusted their position every few seconds to accommodate both their own growth and that of his chest and belly. His face was flushed with the effort, and sweat of his own ran down his cheeks.

“I... I don't think I can keep this up....” His arms were nearly at their limit; their potential reach for the floor was quickly being swallowed by his bloating body. A thought dawned on him. “A... am I going to explode?” The panda shrugged before him as his hands fiddled under his massive gut.

“Depends.” The black-and-white bear's shorts slid down his thunder thighs, and the fox stared at the panda's mid-section, private bits hidden beneath his belly.

“O... on what?!” The panda cupped the fox's swollen face in his pudgy paws. He shuffled forward and guided the captive head under his gut, now out of view. He struggled a bit down there, no doubt offended by the warm damp of his nether region. His gut came to a jiggling rest atop the fox's shoulders and back as he felt his fatpad part around the intruding snout.

“Oof... on whether or not the customer is satisfied as-is.”

The fox struggled as he could, but his arms no longer touched the ground. They were quickly becoming horizontal as his expanding body encroached upon the empty space around him. His legs were bent diagonally, and his feet still held purchase on the floor, but they would lose that soon enough. He cried tears of pain as the fat guy's sweat stung his eyes, his nostrils burning with the smell.

Suddenly he felt hands on his sides, and legs brushed against his own. They kicked his aside, and then there were thighs pressed tight against his bloated backside. He gasped, and the panda's dick found its way between his lips as the fat pillow slid over and around his muzzle like a plunger. It was hard to breathe down here. He couldn't see the intruder. Couldn't even smell him for the stench of the panda – but the fox knew it was a he. He knew immediately as the guy's cock slid between his cheeks and drove home back there, and he tried to cry out.

The panda gasped – it had been a very, very long time since he'd felt another fur's tongue down there. He grunted. “Get to work down there.” The groaning on his dick was fine – great, even – but he wasn't going to miss out on such an opportunity. The skunk across the way seemed to think along similar lines.

“L-listen to 'im....” The skinnier one had struck up a quick, staccato rhythm on the fox's rump which sent ripples across the bloating body that the panda could actually feel. “He's moaning like a bitch, ain' he?” The panda was nearly moaning himself.

“That... that'd be... the aphrodisiac... in the mix....” He took a moment to collect himself and try to catch his breath. “Glad you paid for it now, huh?” The skunk was silent a moment as he listened to the fox sing earnestly to his beat.

“Fuckin' hell, best money I ever spent....” The panda shivered, hands on either side of his jiggling stomach. The fox's groans grew more intense with each passing moment as his tongue wrestled against the bear's shaft.

“Gods, so am I....” He didn't usually get aphro-jobs. Just the protesting ones that tended to bite. His heart raced hard and painful in his chest. His face flushed – it had only been a few moments now, and he knew that, but that tongue... gods. He closed his eyes as he twitched between the fox's teeth, and stickily coated the inside of the muffled muzzle.

He backed away, and the fox's voice grew suddenly more audible. He felt gossamer strings of seed and spit string between his groin and the fox's lips; those lips were constantly parted as he cried out in perfect harmony to the skunk's insistent thrusts. He had grown considerably now, his oblate hide creaking beneath his lithe fuck-buddy. There were round lump-like protrusions where his hands and feet should have been, fingers and toes just visible on the outer edges of his obscene body. His head had sunken in a fair bit, round and bloated and blue. He struggled with his voice, and managed a few words.

“H... how.... long?”  The panda hefted his shorts up, and only half cared that they didn't entirely cover his shelf-like ass.

The panda managed to wheeze, “ Pardon?” The fox struggled to moan and breathe and talk at once.

“When.. do I... go... back to... normal?” The panda shrugged and looked to the skunk.

“Depends.”

The skunk merely increased his speed, slapped the fox's massive side, and said, “You don't.”

The waddling trek back across the room was arduous to say the least – the panda was entirely spent. He reached the landing at the same time as two company guys coming up; the horse and lion both towered over the panda.

“D'you pay the owner yet?” The two had each looked across the room, and gave a hint of a smile at the sight. The horse answered.

“Eeyup. Got a crew comin' to take the wall out now.” The panda elbowed the horse knowingly, dropped his voice a bit, and gave him a wink.

“We definitely got a cocksucker.” The horse's faint smile turned to a full-on grin.

“Well then, guess he's gonna be popular, huh?” They moved to cross the room, and the panda called out to them.

“Hey guys, do me a favor – get 'im talking, huh? Poor bastard owes me a shake recipe.”

***

Time passed haphazardly for the bloated fox. The first several hours after the gym had been a blur while his ass had ached from the skunk's enthusiastic abuse. Those two guys, the big ones, had thrown a sheet over him. He heard construction-noises for some time, and felt a breeze. There was vertigo, and he heard several voices of people working around him. Then there was the rumble of a motor as he lay blind in what he assumed was the back of a cargo truck.

They only removed the sheet once he'd been placed in his room, a bleak brickwork ordeal that looked rather old. There were no windows, and the few dim lights there were remained off for the most part of the day. They turned on occasionally when the doctors checked in on him, but that only happened on weekends. They were the ones monitoring his life support; they made sure he stayed in a drug-induced stupor most of the time. The most activity he saw, however, was when he got visitors.

The skunk showed up every day. The skinny bastard was relentless, and fucked him mercilessly; he'd lay across the fox, his entire weight supported by the bubble-beast, while he bounced his waist up and down, his groin striking a harsh, quick rhythm against the fox's ass. The fox could only lay there spread eagle, a prisoner in his own body, helpless to do anything against his assailant other than moan and take it.

The skunk would whisper to him in the act, share sweet nothings about how he owned him, about how as long as he made the monthly payments the Company would see to it that he'd never be anything other than his own, personal fucktoy. But the fox knew that wasn't true. Not entirely, anyway. The skunk would get dressed and leave, and after a few short minutes the men would come one after another to slip their cocks in his muzzle. Money swapped hands. Strangers used him. He was the personal fucktoy of every horny stud in this place, plus whichever acquaintances of theirs had the money and the balls.

The horse from the gym, the one the threw the sheet over him, the one with the massive dick, was always the first. The fox would see him through hazed eyes, the ache in his ass lingering from a fresh skunk-fuck, and he'd beg. The flared-tip would press against his lips, and he'd slide spit down the speckled shaft until he gagged down near its base. The horse would pull out before climax, and pat his face, and again the fox would beg.

The horse always obliged. The heart monitor would go into a frenzy, the drugs would drip faster, and the fox's immobile form would shudder under the horse's immense strength as that huge equine cock ravaged his wanting ass, still sore and lubed by the skunk's performance. The fox could have gotten off on the slick-plunger noises alone.

The feeling of that muscular form at his backside reminded him of the fox he used to be, the fox that had wanted to be so much bigger. That fox was gone, and now there was only an enormous, eager cock-slut permanently kept in a dim subterranean storeroom. He relished now, as his obscene form rippled beneath the sweating stud, the thought of all the dick that he could get by simply laying there. ","pools_count":0,"title":"Another Kind of Big","deleted":"f","public":"t","mimetype":"text/rtf","pagecount":"1","rating_id":"2","rating_name":"Adult","ratings":[{"content_tag_id":"4","name":"Sexual Themes","description":"Erotic imagery, sexual activity or arousal","rating_id":"2"}],"submission_type_id":"12","type_name":"Writing - Document","guest_block":"t","friends_only":"f","comments_count":"1","views":"657","sales_description":null,"forsale":"f","digitalsales":"f","printsales":"f","digital_price":""}