Arcanoms

Home / Personal / Arcanoms

The orange and black arcanine had gotten fat.

He had not just gotten fat, nor just obese, and a paltry comparison to the word chubby was woefully inaccurate to describe what the canine pokemon had become. The dog was something far more than those words could hope to convey; even the word blob struggled to truly contain the enormity that the beast had reached. This was not to say that it was entirely voluntary, nor that greed and gluttony and slothfulness had gotten him to such a stupendous size on their own. This was far more forced, far less of any sort of design by anthros, and just a product of a random place at a random time; a whim. The arcanine had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, or the right place at the right time if the size he had attained was something one desired. The canine was unsure of how he felt about it, though he had to admit that the feeling of being so incredibly, preposterously large was appealing. All of the warmth too, just surrounding and enveloping him in its cushioning, heavy weight… He was hard-pressed to find many drawbacks, aside from being unable to see over his own cheeks and chins, as well as the utter inability to even register movement with his fingers and toes. That aside though… That aside…

He enjoyed it.

**********

Largo had never been one to be much of a chubby dog. He had always stayed fit, trim, and at the very least toned throughout his whole life. He was a canine after all, he had the lineage and energy that kept him fairly active, in spite of a somewhat sedentary career as a desk clerk. Regular trips to the gym, taking the stairs nearly ritualistically, and just in general making sure that he did what he could to stay as fit as possible were all practices that the canine did his best to do. It made him happy to be moving around, to get his blood flowing, and on days where he had time to go for a run out at the beach near his quaint, small house, the breeze through his orange and black fur felt utterly incredible. It was something primal in him that was sated as he did this, something more than just the sense of pride when he got looks at his toned, sculpted frame from passersby. It was just indescribable, and he loved it.

His appetite, though, didn’t match his build at all. Another part of his primal, canine psychology was the need to eat whenever he could. He had never managed to shake that need, and it had more than once resulted in a pair of pants being a size too small for him. Never once had he graduated to even husky status, but he had never attained a six-pack nor truly cut arms and legs. He instead just stayed very built, good-looking, and with one hell of an appetite for all things edible. It was an odd mix, but a furious metabolism and a strong work ethic somehow made the two things mix in his body. Largo paid it little mind too; he had always been that way ever since he had been a small pup. It was just who he was, and he wasn’t going to change that anytime soon.

At least, not of his own volition.

A deity of some sort, nameless and faceless to nearly all, decided to toy with the conundrum of an arcanine. He had let the canine have his fun, roaming the world and eating as much as he could at all times; such a god enjoyed watching that gluttonous side of the arcanine. The deity had a master plan though for Largo, one which would change his destiny forever and had been hatched when the canine was but a pup. It would also change his waistline, his mindset, and above all his appetite. It was monstrous where it was at that point in time, but it would become so, so much more by the time the mischievous god had his way with the canine. Largo was none the wiser as well; no one could be, for this god had covered his tracks exceedingly well. This was to be an experiment; a test of his powers to see what he was capable of. It was just going to show other gods that he could control anthros as well as they could, possibly even better. It was also something to… Enjoy himself over; one needed to have fun with their work after all.

The plan got set in motion on a Friday evening. It was like any other for the arcanine; out at a restaurant with a few friends, making a pig of himself while he was joshed at, and just enjoying his life. He wore the same, jovial smile which he always wore when he was eating, and had already demolished five plates at the buffet which he was in before the god overseeing his change arrived. The deity just floated near the ceiling and watched for a time, not sure if the time was right to set off his change. The more he watched however, the more that he felt there would never be a better time; what was the point in wasting a golden opportunity like a buffet after all? So he, or she, pulled the trigger on their scheme. Floating down like a feather on a windless day, the deity lowered down to scant inches above Largo’s head. The arcanine, buried muzzle-first in a bowl of soup, didn’t even blink as the god placed both paws on his shoulders and moved to whisper something into his ear. It was hardly a command, nor was it an order; it was a suggestion. Tricks like this didn’t work as well if they were orders. So the deity simply suggested something simple, and something Largo had been holding back on his entire life.

More.

More came too, for the second those words left the god’s mouth, the canine began to drink faster. His paws fumbled with the bowl as he tried to tip it into his muzzle even moreso. Bits of soup spilled out around the edges of his muzzle, dripping down onto his shirt and making his friends all chuckle at the sight of such greed. A couple comments were thrown his way, but Largo barely heard them. His mental chains broken, only one thought filled his mind to the brim. It was to eat, and he was going to do that until he felt fit to burst. No more being satisfied, or giving in to the chiding of his friends and family. Something in Largo was finally free, and the seed planted by the deity all those years ago was about to spout. It was as if he had lost all self-control, all will to do anything in any sort of moderation when it came to consumption. He needed more, and the deity knew all of this as he moved to hover back up in the rafters of the eatery. He was just going to watch, and Largo was just going to eat. That was going to be the new order of things, and the arcanine was never, ever going to break free of it.

Shoveling food into his mouth at a rate which would put competitive eaters to shame, the arcanine went about his binging with a sheer lack of manners which left his friends appalled. They all stood and left shortly after Largo began to truly eat, each coming up with an excuse and leaving with a look of disgust in their eyes. This left more room for the arcanine to get plates and return them to the table; that was all that he cared about. His wanton need for more was truly taking over, and even as he moved entire platters to the table at the disdain of the wait staff, he just thought about how much he would eat once he finished in the restaurant. It was cyclical in his mind now; the more he ate, the more he wanted to eat. This led him to pig out on pork, glut on gravy, decimate desserts, and ruin ribs. His paws were a mess, his shirt was starting to get there, and other patrons in the restaurant were starting to become disgusted as well at the sight of such greed. No one could stop him though; he had paid, and he was entitled to his meal, even if he was eating far more of it than he should in such a way that was disturbing others.

Political correctness and a rather shy wait staff let Largo binge unabated; the deity had sworn off interfering after giving his initial order to consume. Platter after platter was brought over to the binging canine, who was beginning to show signs of all his gluttonous behavior. His shirt was beginning to tighten, his pants were filling out some around the midsection, and his movements were slowing. He was huffing and panting between bites, as his stomach had swollen so much that it was infringing on the space his lungs needed for air. Still he ate on though, uncaring about the consequences of such greed and just needing to fill the hole which had formed inside him. His paws were much less of a blur at that point, more of a consistent flow to his mouth that seemed unending. Each time one reached for food, the other stuffed its contents into the awaiting, food-splattered maw which was ending more meals in minutes than families did in days. His stomach swelled and heaved, gurgled and groaned, but above all tightened as he ate on. It was getting full; there were limits to what the god could alter before it became too obvious that something was amiss. Largo was going to have to stop his eating soon, but not before the damage was done to his psyche, and those around him.

It took another three trays of food before the arcanine finally stopped, his cheeks bulging full of food as a deep, guttural groan spilled out of his mouth. He placed both paws on his stomach, a small hint of the orange and black fur of his middle peeking out beneath his shirt, and just groaned again. He was beyond full, beyond stuffed even; he was packed so tightly with food that he could barely even form breaths. Each came as a panting huff, barely enough oxygen to keep him conscious. Largo slumped back in his chair and just moaned, trying his best to soothe his stomach with his stained paws. Rubbing at it did little though, so the arcanine just had to deal with the absolute agony that his stomach was in. At least, he did until he was able to get the mouthful of food down into it, and release a deafening belch. The much-needed release of gas made a hint of room, which was quickly filled up by a long, hard swig of beer; he had gotten that at some point during his repeated treks to the buffet. Largo was stuffed though, and as his mind meandered along to thoughts of even more food, he knew it wouldn’t be the last time he felt like this.

**********

Largo’s car jerked to a halt, and the arcanine spilled out of it as though he was drunk. He had sat in the buffet for almost an hour after finishing his feast, having to digest enough to move himself from his place. Once up, he was promptly escorted to the door by the bolder night staff, and all but shoved into his car. His brain was so addled with thoughts of eating that he didn’t even really think about why it was happening, just where the nearest drive thru was. As if possessed, he drove there immediately once he found his keys and got the car started, breaking more than one traffic law along the way. Pulling in and finding no line, he barked a stupendously large order into the machine before zipping forward. Patience was not something he possessed in his state, but somehow he managed to make it long enough for the food to start flowing without biting the poor attendant’s head completely off. Bags and bags of food, all cheap and laden with more calories and fat than any anthro should ever consume, began to pile up into Largo’s passenger seat. He didn’t much care about that though, as it was their contents he was after.

Not bothering to park to eat, the arcanine had taken his car to three more drive-thru’s on his way home, in spite of only living a meager eight minutes from the buffet. Each time he ordered an outrageous amount of food, and each time he was waiting for it by the time he had finished the order from the previous fast-food joint. His gluttony was truly showing by the time he finished off his last binge though, as he tumbled onto his drive-way amongst a sea of wrappers and crumbs. His shirt was no longer able to cover almost three inches of his stomach at that point, and his pants had to be undone and unzipped just to hope to contain him. His arms were now spilling out of his sleeves as though it was a faucet turned on full, and to even mention his legs without talking about the adipose which now encased them would be a fool’s errand. Largo was now fat, full-blown fat. It was something he was not used to, and yet somewhere in his mind he had always been. The fact that his mind had changed so much so fast could only be the work of the deity controlling him, but that was here not there for the arcanine; he was still hungry.

Lumbering into his house, he grunted at the effort needed to haul his newfound bulk around. It shocked him at just how large he had gotten in such a short time, but there was something about his new size which was enticing. It was more than just the comfort he had held with the previous, slightly-rounded form he had maintained. There was an addiction to the size, just as much of one as there was to the food in fact. He almost wanted to be bigger as much as he wanted to eat, and that was well and truly saying something. The god in charge had not put this into Largo at all; it was just some sort of side effect of the growth. The deity was hardly complaining though, and instead opted to simply watch the expansion happen as he had planned. He was there to observe, and he was planning on doing just that as he hovered above the sight unfolding before him and smirked with pride.

The cabinets of the house were emptied in short order, and then the delivery drivers began coming. They came in droves, sometimes three at a time, all laden with more food than could be brought in three trips. Trapped inside, Largo was able to really glut, and the deity didn’t have to worry about prying eyes. He simply let Largo get the door, bigger every single time the buzzer rang, and waddle back to his position on the sofa. The indent of his growing rear was becoming larger and larger on the plush piece of furniture, as was the stack of boxes and containers growing on either side of it. The arcanine barely cared though, as all he wanted was more to stuff down into his ever-starving stomach. Something was always going to be crammed down in there if the canine had any say in the matter, and since he did, it was always going to be packed tight.

Days upon days of nearly ceaseless eating became something of a routine for Largo. He was fired, he began to have his possessions hauled away one by one by banks and loan sharks, and yet still he ate. The deity did have to step in to make sure the food kept flowing, but it was just a small tweak at the bank; an error in Largo’s favor or something along those lines. The arcanine didn’t even notice it, he just kept on eating. His paws were always in motion whenever he was conscious; he often would pass out simply from stuffing himself into a food coma with pounds upon pounds of food. His form had bloated out to render him immobile as well in such a short time, going from comparatively svelte to bloated with more blubber than some small whales. It was a truly awe-inspiring transformation, and yet one that Largo would never begin to consider something of his own doing. He was just going through the motions of his normal day; it was all normal to him as he crammed yet another whole pizza down his muzzle. Even as his arms became harder to lift to his face, even as he had to lift his TV higher and higher to see it over his own growing horizon, and even as the delivery guys became less and less frequent, and yet the food never seemed to stop, he never questioned a thing. He just ate, and ate, and ate; that was his main goal in life.

One day, long after he had needed to be fed by a conveyor belt at all times, Largo awoke from his fourth nap of the day. He belched lewdly and opened his muzzle right after, awaiting the usual torrent of food. None came though, and it only took a few seconds before the blob of an arcanine let out a whimper. He was only capable of that as well; his fattened neck and cheeks prevented his muzzle from making any shapes needed to form words or even noises. It was absurd, and yet it was what Largo had become, and he wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Enough.”

Largo was full, for the first time in ages. He also had a mirror in front of him within the lazy blink of his squinting eyes, and that was the first time he had seen himself in what felt like ages. To say that he was massive was an understatement, and even bigger words would pale in comparison to what the arcanine had become. A couch was somewhere beneath his bulk, his sweat-covered and food-stained blob of a body, and yet there was no way to see it. There were just rolls upon rolls upon rolls of orange and black fat, all stained with more food than some anthros ate in a week. His limbs looked to be suggestions along the sides of his stomach, a pile of fat which could rival a SUV in terms of sizes and shape. It sloshed and rolled and undulated as though it had a life of its own, for there was no way that Largo had the strength to move it on his own. His moobs, each far fatter than he had been before his sudden food addiction had taken hold, sank down to nearly the point at which his waist would be, and even that was almost not doing them justice. It was just that his stomach was so incredibly large, and so dominating that everything around it looked to be nothing by comparison. His head looked like a skittle atop a donut, his arms like jelly beans sticking out, and his legs were all but gone. Even his rear, which had been a point of pride for him at some point in his life, was now gone and smothered by the weight of meals, feasts, gorges, and binges the likes of which no living being could begin to comprehend. It was astounding he was still alive, still eating, and still somewhat healthy. Largo had no idea he had gotten that big, and yet he felt it… Appealing.

The deity watching him smirked as the arcanine began to rumble and moan, apparently pleased with the newfound growth he had experienced. Part of the god didn’t want to leave his latest attempt at size manipulation alone, but he had other projects to work on. Inflation was such a fickle thing after all, and going macro… Oh the havoc that could cause. It was sad to see such a success leave him though regardless, and for that the deity felt a twinge of regret. Looking over his pride and joy though, and watching the blubber which had once been a being slosh with size few could even dream of, made him smile. He had done something few other gods bothered with, won a bet, and now left a beast more content than he should have been with such a jarring lack of mobility. Feeling sorry for that, the deity started the conveyor again, just so that Largo could have some sort of company while the authorities began their search for the growing blob.

Largo knew none of this; he just wanted to eat.

 

Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: