A low, guttural rumble emanated from the wolfdragon, who was beached in a veritable sea of himself. Having just consumed nearly his weight in roasted pork, beef, chicken, and various other meats, his stomach was at a loss for where to begin digestion. The surface of his stomach, a mass of thinning grey fur which was so taut a quarter would bounce into oblivion off of it, was slick with grease and sweat from the most recent gastrointestinal feat the draolf had undertaken. Just watching him eat had been enough to make more than one of his feeders ill, but several more became jealous of the sheer gluttony which one beast was capable of unleashing. Of course, this unrestrained hedonism came from years and years of practice, of greed, and was born of an appetite which had yet to ever be truly sated; the limits of a physical body could only be stretched so far after all. The wolfdragon knew this, and always stopped himself once he could feel new marks, red and angry, forming beneath the layer of fur which covered less and less of him with every immobilizing pound of adipose he added to his engorged frame. Once or twice he had gone too far, but he chose to not think of those times, as they brought back rather painful memories. Instead, he focused on the increasing volume of his guts, which were beginning to invade his thoughts with their persistent rumbles and gurgles.
A blast of gas, so powerful it moved even his mattress-smothering cheeks, brought a temporary reprieve from the noise, but filled the air with a new stench so foul even its creator noticed it. The draolf had become less and less aware of his stench, his messes, and his need to take care of anything but his appetite. As such, filth had begun to build up in the countless folds of his ceaselessly expanding pelt. Sweat, spunk, and various other fluids made him almost look to shine when the light hit him, but even the blind could tell that the beast was the epitome of slovenly greed, and not something worth shining. His smell was even worse than all that made him appear to glimmer, a myriad of stenches ranging from old food to heady musk to stale gas to even unwashed feet. His nose having long gone numb to the smells of his unattended frame, the wolfdragon instead just ate on and on, hardly a care in the world save for his need to feed. Even as his servants donned gas masks, even as he lost his ability to stand and feed himself, even as his vision was clouded more and more each passing day with his own cheeks… On and on the wolfdragon ate. It was all that he could do, and all that he wanted to do.
A certain wolf had taken a fascination in this, as he was one of a rare breed; those who envied the wolfdragon’s ways. The canid had tried to emulate them in his own way, but had only succeeded in giving himself the smallest of potbellies. It was nothing to write home about, and yet he still craved the size as the draolf before him craved food. He couldn’t explain it, couldn’t make sense of it, and really couldn’t even give a reason as to what he planned to do if he attained the likeness of the wolfdragon who was seeping sweat and gas before him. Yet, every fiber in his body knew that his place was in the same as the wolfdragon’s, just a slob whose only contribution to society was to eat every piece of day-old food for nearly a ten mile radius, and then demand more. He didn’t dare approach the wolfdragon for hints on how to do this, as that could get in the way of his ceaseless eating, but the wolf wanted to more than he wanted life itself. He wanted pointers, and guidance, and even maybe a push in the right direction. It was all going to come from that mountain of lard, and there was no way that he would get it without asking.
“What?” Came a voice into the wolf’s head as he looked on still. The canine jumped, looking around to see who had said such a thing, but he saw no one aside from himself and the wolfdragon. “I see you staring at me all the time with the same look in your eyes… And I know it isn’t because you find me attractive. You want all of this, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do…” The wolf muttered to the faceless voice, so confused as to what was happening to him but at the same time piecing things together somewhere in his head. He had no idea how it was happening or why, but he did feel as though it was just how he had to interact with the disembodied sounds in his mind.
“You know full well who this is. Now, Alonely, just what do you want with all of this?” There was a slight pause, but before the wolf could answer he felt a pain in his stomach. It was sharp, pointed, and brief, but it truly stung. He clutched both paws to his modest paunch and keeled over, his knees sinking to the ground as his muzzle wrenched open to cry out with pain. No sound came though, for try as he might he couldn’t make a peep; something was keeping him silent. “So that’s why… Well, enjoy it for now pipsqueak. You’ll be dinner like all the others someday, so revel in it while it lasts… While your body lets it last for you.” The wolf’s mind was racing with both pain and confusion as he rose back to his feet, his stomach still aching from the sudden jab and his brain reeling from the words of the blob before him. A blast of gas came from that slovenly mound of adipose, but no more words entered his mind.
“What did yo-” Another noxious fart befouled the air in the room, so much so that Alonely coughed a couple times just to try and clear his lungs of the fumes. TO think that one being could do that… It made him crave what Sasuke had that much more, and yet something about it just felt off. He felt like he could get what the hybrid had on his own, rather than needing to work for it. The notion of asking for help in his endeavor vanished like paper in a breeze, and in its stead was a thought all new; just how to get it. It was a simple thought, singular in purpose and intent. It was one that Alonely had possessed from the moment which he had thought of even attempting to reach the size of Sasuke, and yet he had never truly acted on it until that moment. It was a seed, and the wolfdragon knew it would grow into a glorious plant… And one day a meal. Simply put, it was:
Alonely left the room in a daze, silent and with blank, unseeing eyes. His mind was filled with a hunger which he had never known, and his stomach was even moreso filled with it. He wanted to eat, and eat, and eat, and eat, and eat. It was all that he needed, and what he all but lived for in that sense. His mind was as gone as Sasuke had wanted it to be, and then some in fact. The wolf had been just as malleable as the wolfdragon had wanted him to be, making the job of the hybrid that much easier. Simple suggestions were going to go a long way, and it was that which was going to propel Alonely into new levels of obesity. All of this was just what Sasuke wanted though; all part of a plan to feed himself another meal. The draolf’s greed knew no bounds, and for the time being, neither would the wolf’s. It was going to be insatiable, boundless, and utterly unstoppable. There would be nothing which he wouldn’t eat, and the only way he was going to stop his consumption was to either die, or be unable to feed himself. Sasuke hoped for the latter, but had seen the former happen once or twice… It was never pretty.
Alonely let out a lewd belch as he sank further down into his sofa, the growing lump of black fur barely even moving as he haphazardly shoved another mound of rolled-up pizza down his gullet. He had gone home the day which Sasuke had corrupted him, plopped his rear down onto the sofa, and then not moved since. No showers, no changing his clothes, and even deliveries were made to the table right in front of him. Pizza boxes littered the floor in front of him, around him, and behind him. Chinese takeout boxes, tupperwares from various other restaurants, and a whole assortment of empty soda bottles and drinks were amongst the rubble as well from the unabashed gluttony that had unfolded for nearly three days straight. Said rubbish was getting to be in the way though, and in spite of wanting nothing more than to continue to glut his way through every single delivery place within the very-populous five miles of his home, the wolf knew that he would need to at least make himself a path out to get even more food to eat.
That could wait until he finished his pizza though, of which another muzzleful was being crammed down into his awaiting stomach. One of Alonely’s paws lazily pet over the over-used table muscle, feeling the newly-made adipose with utter adoration. It was a part of him that he now cherished, or rather noticed at all thanks to his mind still being solely focused on eating and nothing else. He was dead set on creating more of it too, as the food went down his throat in a powerful gulp and just sloshed in his stomach along with the multitude of other needless calories that lay inside. Gluttony had become the epitome of what Alonely strove for, and it was his main purpose at that point. The black wolf was fully embracing what Sasuke had planted in his mind, and feeding the small amount of magical assistance the wolfdragon had planted in his body. No amount of fat would have stuck to the canine as quick as it did naturally, but Sasuke made sure that Alonely would gain at a pace that could blow one’s mind. It was just his way of giving the wolf what he wanted, and in turn getting back a good meal out of it; just as he had said.
Another bite of pizza passed through the bear-like snout which was nigh constantly being fed, and with that the third pizza of Alonely’s second lunch was gone. It went to join it’s compatriots in his stomach, sliding down there in large chunks through a throat that was nearly sore from being ravaged so frequently with food. The wolf barely cared about that though, and just reached for his phone as best he could. His arms quaked slightly from that motion, the new layers of fat on their circumference showing the jarring lack of muscle tone on them. Alonely had never been a very toned beast, but now that he was growing wider and softer with nearly every bite he crammed into himself, it was truly beginning to show. The walk to the door was beginning to make him pant, particularly long meals left him physically exhausted, and even deep breaths were becoming something of a rarity thanks to just how much his stomach had been forced to stretch due to the constant state of fullness it was in. His poor body was paying the price for his greed, but as the canine fumbled with his phone to redial yet another delivery place, it was the furthest thing from his mind. All Alonely wanted was more, more, and even more after that; and in about 25 minutes it was going to get there. Or the food was free, of course.
“He-… Yeah, it’s me again. I’ll get the sam-… It’s still no-… I k-… Fine, and make sure to send more dipping sauce and drinks this time… Thanks… You too Mario.” Fumbling with his phone again after the brief exchange with a different pizza place, Alonely haphazardly pressed the button to end the call before placing the phone on the slowly rising and falling curve of his growing stomach. There it sat, the screen lighting up the dimly lit room as it was the only other source of light there save for the television. The brain-numbing box had been on since Alonely had begun his gluttonous quest, further giving the wolf nothing to think about but food as pointless drivel spewed out of it in a constant deluge of intelligence-draining muck. It was further icing on the growing cake that the wolf was turning into for his sole benefactor; less thought meant less struggling later on. Alonely didn’t know that though, and instead just watched the television drone on and on about the mundane problems of the reality stars which populated every single waking moment of the shows which the canine watched. Of course, the wolf barely noticed this, and instead decided to focus on the food and the colorful shouting; nothing else mattered to him.
Half an hour later, and food had arrived and been placed on the sofa beside the wolf. He hadn’t moved one iota during the entire process of the food arriving, as he had long before made an arrangement with the delivery driver to just drop the food off on the couch, rather than try to get Alonely to answer the door. The canine wanted to waste as few calories as he could, just so that he could get even more food. He also was far too lazy and lethargic to move his bloating frame off of the sofa. The sight was one that made the delivery driver wince more and more every time he came to the wolf’s home, but he barely noticed it. The money was always taken from his credit card, the tip was always generous, and the wolf barely had the ability to pay attention to the harsh judgment that was being thrown his way. Instead, he just mechanically reached over towards the small stack of boxes that now resided beside him, opening one haphazardly and reaching for its calorie-rich contents. The process was just as natural as breathing to him at that point, as was taking those calories and shoving them into his face. Over, and over again.
The sofa groaned loudly beneath the mass of beast smothering it from above, a few splintering sounds coming from the wooden construction as the mammoth amount of heft shifted around lethargically. A deep, rumbling gurgle of discontent came from a stomach dangled scant inches from the floor when seated, and had been stuffed to its peak capacity for the fourth time that day. Doing that feat was something which its owner took pride in, but it always left him both winded, and sweating up a storm. As he settled back down onto the sofa, a deafening explosion of gas roaring forth from a food-stained muzzle which was nestled rather tightly between his bloated cheeks, the contents of his stomach sloshed about sluggishly. This movement made him groan once the gasses finished pouring from his maw, an unwiped paw smearing the remnants of his previous meal onto the side of his prodigious gut in an attempt to soothe its overstuffed discomfort. That may have worked too, had Alonely not been so overbearingly obese.
Stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey on a binge-eating diet, his stomach sprawled out before him like an alien mass, taut with food in spite of the full feet of adipose that encased his midsection. His fur was thinning in certain spots thanks to just how packed his table muscle stayed at nearly all times, as his hide just couldn’t keep up with the stretching he was putting it through. Food and sweat made his entire frame, from the rolling hills of his moobs to the fold of fat which rolled over his hands, to the calves which touched the floor just as much as his feet, to the fleshy ‘W’ made of pure lard on the underside of his stomach, which was so pronounced and large that Alonely could actually feel the shape rather than see it. He couldn’t see much of himself for that matter, just the top of the dome of his stomach as it impeded on his view of the television, and the cheeks and moobs which had swollen even higher than his stomach. The twin sets of peaks were just rolling, sloshing, and nigh constantly in motion thanks to one thing or another. Alonely was never not moving when he was awake, and even sleeping he had to imagine that he jiggled then too, thanks to there being just so much of him to jiggle, and the snoring wheeze which was his body struggling to breath nowadays. Whether it was from the weight or the fact that his stomach had bloated and stretched itself to such sizes that its preposterous proportions pushed his organs around like they were hardly there, the wolf couldn’t say.
Another expulsion of gas roared out of the bear-like snout which was attached to the wolf’s face, and it was followed by another groan. The release had made just an iota of room in his uncomfortably packed stomach, but in spite of how incomprehensibly full the wolf was, he reached mindlessly for another doughnut beside him. Somehow food had kept coming to him, even after his phone had been lost beneath the sprawling cellulite of his rear. It was always what he wanted too, the price and timeliness of it almost seeming to be too perfect. Had the wolf had any mental acuity left in him, he may have found this odd. Alonely was, however, a slave to his food and television, so much so that forming much of a thought past what he would cram into his muzzle next was beyond what he could muster. His mind had become like his body as the pounds had crammed their way into his pelt; slow and progressively useless. Drool often poured from his muzzle, especially when he was sleeping as the canine was more often than not dreaming of food. A penchant for keeping clean had long ago faded thanks to the simple logic of ‘why bother?’. There was no point in keeping clean to him after all, as he was just going to be slathered in food and sweat again in a matter of minutes from getting out of his shower. That would also involve standing, something that the canine hadn’t done in longer than he dared remember.
Remembering was something that Alonely hadn’t done in a while, and yet try as he might, he wasn’t capable of. His jarring lack of mobility and thought was just pushed down time and time again by food and senseless drivel from the box in front of him. It was a box that he could barely see most days thanks to just how much his stomach could expand when it was packed with food, but he could still hear roars about whose baby was whose, which actor or actress had inevitably gone back into rehab, or whatever gossiping ‘news’ screamed forth from the blaring machine. It gave him something to focus on in the increasingly infrequent moments he wasn’t either eating or passed out in a food-drunk stupor. That was becoming so infrequent that the meals which Alonely had done his best to distinguish; he wanted some variety in his diet after all, were melding into one. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks… Those terms no longer held meaning to the wolf. He tried to remember when they had, but just like everything else… Remembering things like that was beyond him.
“You’ve progressed nicely, mutt,” A voice came into the wolf’s mind, one that he knew was from somewhere, and yet he couldn’t place in spite of his barely sufficient efforts. “Won’t be long now before I get something to snack on… You’re still barely a meal. You’re gut doesn’t touch the floor at all, you can still move your arms… Only just though, so I’ll make sure to take care of that. You’re getting there though; I’m impressed.” Alonely could just grunt out his reply, as he was far too full to manage words, and hadn’t even thought about speaking much in a long while. Delivery guys never talked, and that voice was his only communication in… How long had it been? Alonely didn’t know, but he always took comfort in that omnipresent voice, even if it was pretty much simply there to berate him. It was motivation to eat more, though the wolf was at the point that he couldn’t quite be sure if it was motivation, or just an urge to grow that had consumed his very being like he did the countless calories that coated his frame. It didn’t matter though, for that last pizza had been enough to make him too exhausted from eating to stay awake.
Drunk on calories and exhausted from the effort of lifting the fat-filled sacs that had once been his arms to his face over and over again, the wolf just sighed and settled into himself to rest. He still had more food in both of his paws, but try as he might he couldn’t lift it to his muzzle. It was a thing that happened often enough that sauces slathered the sides of his packed frame, and yet it was something that he had a solution for it all; just eat when he woke up. That would happen, again and again, endlessly… Until the voice told him that he was done. Alonely had no idea when that was, but as the grip of sleep took him, the words which led him into the food-filled dreamland he spent the other half of his time in seemed to think it was soon.
“I can almost taste all that fat… Soon Alonely, soon.”