Home / Friends / Vattened

It had been a very light bump, unintentional and innocent. The grey behemoth probably hadn’t even noticed the contact with the smaller, black-and-grey beast that he had tapped with his thick hips. With all of the food that was around, and the sheer size of his girth, it was hard to blame him for not being attentive. It was also hard to blame him for the issue of how little room was around him; not all factories had ten feet and two tons in mind for their visitors. Luckily the facility had managed to accommodate, mostly, and as a result both the grey mass of blubber and his smaller friend had been on the tour of the creamery for the better part of an hour. The tour was about to take a sharp turn though, for that bump, that little innocent bump, would have drastic consequences for the small wolfdragon which had been its victim.

Denya, the smaller of the pair, went tumbling over the railing the second the flesh of Sasuke, the larger draolf, gained tension beneath its many layers of softness and sent him rebounding off it. It was not a graceful fall, as he clattered roughly into the metal fencing and then his own chubby mass kept his momentum up and sent him right over. Denya had tried to catch himself on the railing, tried flapping his wings, and even tried grasping for the lip of the container he was sent plunging into. None of it worked though, and as he hollered for help in the middle of his fall, he had to hope someone would hear him. No one did though; the roar of machinery drowning out his sole plea before he plunged right into the depths of the liquid below him. It was a vast vat of cream, heavy cream to be exact, and he was now sinking into it. No one noticed that he was in there either, so there would be little chance of rescue. For now, the chubby draolf just had to let himself sit in the vat and hope that he would get lucky.

As he floated in the cream somewhere around the middle of the vat, the draolf had to try to open his muzzle. He hadn’t take a deep breath before he had gone under, and was nearly about to burst from his need to breathe. When he did that though, the milky liquid all around him just flooded right down into his stomach at a breakneck pace. It was almost like being inflated with milk, and the draolf had no idea how to stop it. He needed air, but none was to be found. It was all just heavy cream around him. So the draolf had no choice but to begin trying to make his way towards what he hoped was the surface while vainly trying to keep his muzzle shut. Denya knew letting no liquid into him was going to be nigh impossible, but at least getting some air into his lungs before he drowned deep in a vat of cream would have to happen. It was sink or swim for the hybrid, and he chose swim.

The draolf didn’t make it very far in the substance before his limbs tired and what little air he still had ran out. He was going to drown, and if he was, he at least wanted some more of the cream that was all around him. To say that it tasted good was very nearly an understatement, and the draolf knew that he would only be getting more if he allowed it to flow into his muzzle. That would be his demise though, but his limbs were too spent to care. Denya was just staring his end in the face, as sudden and unexpected as it was, and a part of him was just ready. He didn’t want to die, he wanted to stay hopeful, but there was just nothing left in his body to fight. His will was draining from him, and his stomach was rumbling for some more of the cream. With a mental sigh and a painful acknowledgement that he would never get to do so many things, the draolf opened his muzzle and let the cream rush in. He would at least let his body have its last wish…

If that was the last wish his body had of course.

For some reason which the draolf could not figure out, he wasn’t drowning. His lungs weren’t filling with liquid, and his brain wasn’t going dark from the lack of oxygen. It was as if he was just making his own air from drinking all of the cream around him; a fear which shouldn’t have been possible in the least. It was happening though, and it nearly brought tears to Denya’s shut eyes as he just let the cream all around him pour down into his gut like a waterfall. Something was utterly amiss, and the draolf had to think that he was either dreaming or had already died, but neither one of those would be a good way to think of things. He had felt the bump of the railing, the cold of the liquid all around him, and even the slight thunk of his tail against the bottom of the immense vat when he had fallen in. There was definitely a certain reality to what he was experiencing, but there was no way for the ballooning draolf to know what it was.

As he drank, and drank, and drank, Denya continued to grow, and grow, and grow. His middle rapidly ballooned out from being simply a chubby belly to a downright fat gut in a matter of minutes. The more time that passed, the faster the pace of the gaining went as well. It was as if some unseen force was not just keeping the draolf alive, but making sure that every ounce of the cream which passed through his muzzle turned straight into fat on his body. The draolf loved every second of that feeling, and even as he still tried to escape his milky prison, he did take just a moment to lower one of his struggling paws down to his burgeoning gut and give it a light rub. The flesh on it felt flabby, soft, and warm compared to all that was around Denya. It was his one and only oasis in the sea of cream, and one which was expanding at a breakneck pace as more and more of the murky surroundings went from outside the draolf to in.

The draolf didn’t bother questioning his sudden fate as a cream storage unit, instead just deciding to accept it happily and let his body do what it had to. His stomach, as big and engorged as it was, still hungered for more and more of the sweet liquid which was all around him. His body was harmlessly suspended in it, comfortable as one could be while submerged in heavy cream. Even his struggles had ebbed down into little more than paltry swings of his swelling limbs every few moments, his mind quickly numbing to the thought of escape as just succumbing to his face became more and more appealing. The growing warmth, and waistline, which was taking over his entire being was far more appealing than wasting all of the calories he was earning on a task which was nigh insurmountable with his rising weight. His fat could float too, meaning that if he ate enough he would eventually rise to the surface. That was enough for the black and grey draolf, and his last kick into the cream around him ended on it.

Once he stopped struggling, Denya truly began to grow. It was as if a switch had been flipped inside him, and as soon as it had been, he was off to gaining at a pace which few had ever seen before. Obese was nothing more than a memory for his body in seconds, his weight reaching levels that would be reserved for vehicles at an astonishing rate. His limbs bloated and filled with restricting blubber, their increasing bulk making them begin to stick out from his sides thanks to the pressure of lard on lard happening between their heft, and the sheer rotundity of the draolf’s torso. He didn’t have to try and shovel food into his face, so that meant that the restricting fat of his limbs didn’t need to be worried about. Of course that also meant he didn’t have to worry about how fat his face was getting, which was quickly swelling into a place which he could feel. He could feel his cheeks growing up to a point that was filling his vision, and his muzzle was feeling shorter and shorter with every massive swallow.

Denya kept it up for a while, a basic machine of consumption. He didn’t have anything else that he could do either, so a certain amount of necessity was there for him. There was also a twinge of boredom which was reaching into him too, as there was just nothing more to do but eat, and eat, and eat. This did get him fatter and fatter, rolls quickly taking over his body and making it rounder than it was tall. He could no longer even bend his fingers, his toes following suit pretty much immediately. The draolf didn’t really have to try to do that though either, as he just was so set in gaining and growing and expanding that he didn’t have to worry about movement. He couldn’t feel himself moving through the cream as well, there was nothing for him to gage how much movement was there for him. He could feel the level of the liquid rolling slowly down his sides, but apparently he had gotten too fat to really do anything else but sit at the bottom of the tank like he had before and stay there.

The level of liquid went down, and down, and down all around Denya. He expanded more and more too, which was beginning to stress the very vat which he was slowly but surely draining. The draolf hardly cared though, and instead just let it happen all around him. The poor metal was screaming and groaning with complaints around the bottom, though Denya could just barely hear it through the liquid which still fully encompassed his head. Stuck at the very bottom of the tank, he surely couldn’t feel the absolute base of the vat with his face, but his moobs were pushed right on it rather hard. They were slowly pushing him up too with the sheer amount of fat which was accumulating there. His belly too, which had him laying straight up and down with his feet somewhere buried in fat far above his head, was beginning to push him further from the bottom. This shoving meant that he was rising up higher than the cream he was drinking, and meant that he couldn’t drink much more until he had risen above the level of his drinking.

That didn’t take too much longer for him to grow, and then he was done drinking. He was immense, beyond any real description really as he just laid in the mass of himself and tried to move. The draolf was able to see absolutely nothing, able to move nothing whatsoever, and could feel the very steel which was encasing him failing. It would just be a matter of time before he burst forth from the giant container which had him trapped, and he could feel it coming. The bolts breaking off, the seams bending and bowing, the mass of it all caving out and just buckling. There was nothing that he could do about it, and the draolf just had to accept it. He didn’t want to break the building, but something about being that big, that round, and that fat was just enticing to him. He maybe wanted more, but he wasn’t sure yet.

The draolf didn’t have time to really think about it though, for instead of doing that he had to suddenly feel his entire frame slosh and quake out several yards in every direction. The metal all over didn’t help matters, but he didn’t even really feel it against the vast yardage that was his pelt now. He was so massive, so swollen, and so bloated that when he exploded from the tank he just felt his fat move, but his limbs and his head stayed still in spite of it all. There was little that Denya could even think with that, but he did let out a groan of contentment from it. He knew he wanted more right then, and would get it no matter what. More, always more, and that was his newfound goal as he lay in the envaritable sea of himself. He had to just feel all of it though, and as it continued to spread, jiggle, and settle all over, he knew it would just be a matter of time before he was still.

Right as that time was coming, the blob of draolf felt a pair of limbs against the base of his body, somewhere yards from his head. It was an odd sensation, and made him shiver slightly as several things began bumping into the base of his body as it spread and settled that much more. The fatsplosion which had just happened to him was seeming to still be happening, but nonetheless one being saw fit to just stand against him and wait for it to finish. Denya had an idea who it was, but right as he heard the voice coming from it he knew. He also knew why, for he could feel a bit of the magic which had been in his body coursing through the being touching him. He could also feel that it was just getting started too, for his fat started to spread a bit more, just inch by inch getting wider and more round.

“Hey fatass… Let’s see if you can ruin this building next, eh?”


Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: