Stay Puffed

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Silver hated the outdoors most of the time. There were bugs, there were spiders on top of that, and then there was the wood shavings, the mud, and just so many other things that the canine didn’t even want to think about. He was a chubby city dog, and he knew it. It was just one of those things for him that he had to pretend he was okay with while he got dragged on the yearly trip with several of his friends. The canine never did enjoy it as much as the others, but it was one of the few times that his circle of friends could get together and talk with one another. That was a treat for the wuffamute in and of itself, as his day job kept him busy. Combined with his friends living a decent distance away and their own lives, it meant that this was the only real time that they had anymore. The last two trips out had been a massive failure as well, so the wuffamute could only hope that this one would have less furs cancelling, and less rain, than the last two outings.

Silver pulled up to the campsite, number fifteen, and sighed as he looked it over. A few of his friends were already there, just sitting there and starting to chit-chat amongst themselves. The wuffamute expected this, and just parked beside the cars there after he found a spot. The site was large enough for the group, and the canine was glad for that; the last spot was far too small for them. He got out once his car was off and looked over that spot, taking a deep breath of the air into his lungs. One thing he did like about the countryside and the outdoors was the scent of it all, and how clean the air was for him compared to city air. This was not to say that it outdid all of the negatives to being outside, but it did help outweigh some of them. The canine just sighed once the air filled him, letting it out and taking in another deep breath before he looked over to his friends and gave a small wave. Several of them waved back, all beckoning him over to the group.

“Come on wuffa! Get your fluffy butt over here!”

“Oh shuddup Blaine,” Silver called back, laughing lightly as his tail started to wag. He remembered why he did this immediately, and began walking over towards them. A portly kangaroo, a couple huskies, a brown bear, and a few others just sat in a circle all laughing and chatting. A fire pit was in the middle of them, and Silver knew that there would be drunken shenanigans around it later in the evening. He had to wonder where the tents were going to be set up on the site, but that would be for later as the chatting got more audible and clear the closer he got. Something about sports; his friends were utterly addicted to watching other furs just smash into one another over a ball. They would rarely talk about much else in the initial wave of getting there, other than their cubs of course, but the wuffa could put up with it. He had a few friends who didn’t do that, who could share his love of other, more ‘manly’ things that they could talk about. This sometimes made a rift between the group initially, but they had known each other for far too long for anything like that to last.

“What’s up chubs?” The kangaroo, Blaine, asked Silver once he got close enough to talk to without shouting. The wuffa just placed both paws on his shirt-covered stomach and gave it a couple shakes, smirking a bit to himself. He was indeed chubby, with thick thighs, a plush rear, a pair of heavy arms and slightly-drooping moobs, and a paunch which protruded liberally over his belt line. He did love his weight too, and while he didn’t necessary try to add more to his frame, it seemed to just find him. He worked at a desk for hours on end, so any food went right to his thighs or middle thanks to not moving much. This meant that he needed some clothing every now and then, but that was hardly a bad thing. His sedentary life meant that he could put off getting clothes a bit longer than most, for he could hide his unzipped or unbuttoned pants if they just got too tight before he could get to the store. He did love the tightness that came with undersized clothes, at it reminded him that he was growing heavier. “Well?”

Silver blushed, as he had gotten caught up in playing with his flab right in front of his friends. His white cheeks turned quite the hue of pink, and this made all of the furs in the circle laugh as he sheepishly slid into the group and sat down beside the roo who had been talking to him. “I think you guys saw what’s up.”

“Your waistline?”

“Blood pressure?”


“Uhm… All of the above?” The group then burst out laughing, one of the dogs of the group falling off the log that he had been sitting on and onto the ground. Silver laughed right with them, clutching his stomach as he was laughing so hard it nearly hurt. A few of the others were doing the same, and the laugh lasted for a while. It was just what they needed to start the weekend off right. The group just kept laughing though, letting their full-blown guffaws die down into chuckles, and then down into just a few scant giggles here and there. Two of the beasts were sitting on the ground before they finished, and each didn’t even bother to try and get up. They just stayed there and took a few deep breaths, letting their bodies recover while they sat there. Each one of the eight furs there was doing the same, a couple sighing once all of the laughing had died down.

“Well, that was funny,” a svelte bear named Luke finally said to break the silence. A few of the furs looked at him and chuckled in agreement. “So, shall we all?”

“Yup,” came three voices in unison, and then the unpacking began.


The whole process didn’t take as long as it should have, and as such it was done before it had even gotten dark in the woods. Silver was pleasantly surprised by this, as normally the campsite took hours to set up. It was done in far less time than usual thanks to Luke bringing his cub, who did a healthy portion of the work. The bear was by far the oldest of the group, but that had earned him respect instead of the usual ribbing that it did. Silver was especially grateful to the extra help, as he had fallen down to the least outdoors friendly since their last trip; the only ones who had been more city-friendly than him was now fishing regularly with Luke and Blaine. Silver had to wonder how a bear, roo, and sheep dog could all fish in the same place, but that was thought for another time.

Right then, the wuffamute was sitting on a log beside one of the two huskies along on the trip, Packie, and talking about the woes of work. They both did the same thing for income, banking, and as such they just talked about their worst customers and loans and the like while they waited for the fire to start in front of them. Neither wanted to get involved in the process, and inevitable argument, that always came from the fire at the site. Luke and a few others would always bicker about who knew the best thing to do with starting the fire, how to set it up, how to put logs on, and so many other tiny aspects of the bundle of logs and flames that the others had learned to stay out of it and let the fighting just happen. There always wound up being a fire at the end of it too, so why they would get involved was illogical. Why there was an argument was just as illogical, but the group knew each other too well for some of their things to be logical.

“…So I told her how useless that number was, and she got so mad that she just about broke the chair getting up.”

“Jeez, really? Didn’t the b-”

“And we have fire!” Luke exclaimed, his muzzle beaming out as his whole frame stood up to its full height in front of the smoldering teepee of kindling. A couple paws slowly clapped patronizingly together, drawing a snarl from the ursine. “We can lose that fire too smartasses.” The claps stopped, and two of the three dogs’ muzzles curled into snarls right back at the bear; instinct was a hard thing to fight. “Just kidding guys, eesh,” Luke said with a broad smile that only the ursine could deliver, which quelled any unrest in an instant and got everyone eased back into the relaxed atmosphere. Silver chuckled to himself at that fact, just sitting there and letting it happen as he knew that he could. There was nothing that the wuffamute could do in order to help either side of that argument, so he just had to sit in silence and let it all happen around him. “Now, who wants a beer?”

Every paw around the campfire shot up, save for Luke’s cub who was just sitting on the log near where Luke was and reading a book. The bear looked fascinated with it, and instead of moping about not being able to be included in things, he was perfectly content entertaining himself. Silver had to admire that, and saw what a job Luke was doing raising his kid. He could still remember the teasing once Luke had that son, and just what they had said to the bear to remind him that the fun days of his life were over. Luke had taken it in stride though, and gotten himself quite the cub out of it. The young bear had even gone so far as to get marshmallow sticks for the group, which Silver had happily taken as he loved his s’mores. It was another perk of outdoors, which he was coming around to as he always did every time he was brought on one of the trips. The canine wanted to eat while he drank too; he usually wound up being the sober one anyways, so why not enjoy that while he could?

The group started passing around beers and other drinks, a few of the furs pulling flasks out of their pockets and starting to drink from them. Silver just took one beer and sipped at it lazily, waiting instead much more anxiously for the bag of marshmallows. The dog was a bit of an addict to the fluffy treats, and as he just looked at the bag and drooled a bit, Packie saw that. “Just waiting for your dog treats eh fluffy?”

“Shut up,” replied the wuffamute, giving the husky a light glare in response. Packie just threw up his paws in mock insult and looked back at Silver with a light pout. The wuffamute didn’t have a chance to throw back more words though, as instead he just got the bag from beyond the smartass husky. Tossed by Blaine, the wuffamute caught it and immediately nabbed himself several of the plump balls of sugar and air. He tossed a few into his muzzle right then, chewing them down in short order before taking any more and putting them onto his stick. As he chewed them though, still making faces at Packie the whole time, he felt something strange in his maw. It was as if the marshmallows had turned dense the second he ate them. Something about that seemed off, so the wuffamute tried to spit them out to make sure that they hadn’t gone back. They were stuck together in a sugary mess inside of his maw though, and that meant that he wasn’t able to get them out. He just had to deal with it, so he chewed a bit more at the heavy sludge which was now crowding his maw and swallowed hard.

The loud gulp almost hurt, and made the wuffamute pant a bit as soon as it went down. Packie just giggled at that sight, and Silver flipped him off in response to the chuckling. The canines frowned at each other for a moment, before Silver raised up his second middle finger and made a face at Packie, who did the same, and then they both started giggling. Any tension was gone, and the pair was just chuckling at one another. Silver stopped chuckling a bit as he could feel some pressure building in his stomach. It wasn’t gas, but it was feeling close to the same and started to make his stomach feel heavier. He gave that gut of his a light rub once he was done giggling with Packie, looking down at his stomach with a faint expression of confusion. The husky cocked his head to the side and looked at the wuffamute with a small amount of concern. Silver shrugged back and just kept rubbing his gut, feeling that heaviness spread throughout it rapidly.

He looked down at his orange shirt after a moment, one he wore specifically to match his fiery hair, and eyed the stomach it was hiding while he tried to make sense of the feeling which was going through it. Silver just rubbed some more, feeling some tightness spreading to the soft flab which normally encased his middle. This made his brow furrow and his expression become more worried; he had just eaten the marshmallows, and yet he was feeling full all of the sudden. The feeling wasn’t ebbing either, it was just getting worse by the moment. Packie at this point had backed off a bit, looking on at Silver with his eyes widening as fast as the full feeling was spreading through the wuffamute. He looked to want to say something, and Silver was struggling to try and get it out of him. The canines couldn’t speak, one because he suddenly had lost control of the sounds coming from his maw and one because he was so shocked as to what was happening. All Packie could do was point and pant, looking obviously panicked at what was happening to Silver.

“What i- HOLY SHIT! SILVER!” Blaine shouted as he looked at Packie finally, then past him to Silver. The wuffamute’s eyes went wide at that reaction, and he tried to get up to flee whatever was happening. He couldn’t move though, instead just feeling his limbs sluggishly wobble in response to that attempted movement before molding into one another. The full feeling had hit critical mass, as the wuffamute felt as though he had eaten three full Thanksgiving meals, and as such was stuffed to the gills. This wasn’t the first time he had felt that way, but it was the first time that he eaten so little food to get that way. Silver couldn’t move either, nor could he talk, but he could still see and had to look down to see what was happening to him.

This was a mistake, as he saw just what everyone was exclaiming about. His whole frame had turned to marshmallow. His grey and white fur was now just solid white, and molded to the sides of his body. What had once been his shirt was now sprinkled sugar, and the same went for his pants. He was turning into candy before his eyes, and had he been able to scream he would have. He could no longer open his muzzle though, and instead was stuck utterly immobile sitting on the log as his frame finished transforming and began to steadily bloat out. It was as if the sludge that had settled into his gut, and spread throughout his body rapidly, was now refilling with air. The former wuffamute was silent, powerless, and bloating up next to a fire at a rapid pace. He could feel the warmth of the fire on his stomach as he bloated closer and closer to it, gaining inches on his molded frame in seconds as he went from being just chubby, to fat, to obese, and then beyond in his seated, molded position. The candied beast could only hope that the fire was going to go out before he melted, as that would spell the end of him. With the looks going on around him though, as his group of friends just stared at the changed blob of sugar as it surged forward with mass, Silver thought that wasn’t likely.

He had to wonder just what toasted wuffamute looked like though.


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