Lance grunted as he set his stomach down on the counter, the fleshy dome of excess expanding out lazily several inches along the cold granite. This sent a shiver down the red panda-dragon hybrid’s spine, making his long-ringed tail twitch and his brownish-orange wings shudder slightly. Placing his deep-brown paws on his scaled stomach, rubbing the sides of his white-and-brown paunch in lazy circles, Lance would have been perfectly content to stay there just as he was. Instead though, he wanted something to eat in order to make that stomach of his stretch out that much more, as well as feel nice and full. His gut gurgled in agreement rather loudly in the silence of the kitchen, making the pandragon’s white cheeks go flush with a blush. Simply stood there in all of his fatty glory, not a single item of clothing to obscure a sole roll of his deep-brown limbs or burnt orange fur or even his sagging, protruding white-and-brown scaled gut, Lance shut his eyes and kept rubbing as he imagined what a good stuffing would be like.
“Hungry huh?” A voice startled Lance out of his revelry, but he immediately calmed down as he felt another furred paunch press into his back, and meaty arms wrap around his midsection. A stubby muzzle came to rest on his shoulder, a pair of cheeks that had been swollen with a rather large amount of adipose also coming to rest on that same shoulder thanks to sticking out from their owner’s face almost as much as that muzzle. The one behind him was quite the fatty, just like the pandragon, and as Lance again shut his eyes and leaned some of his considerable bulk back into the faint embrace coming from behind him, the hybrid knew he wouldn’t have it any other way. “I’ll get to cooking.”
“Alright hon, and make sure to make a lot please? I’m starved,” Lance replied, leaning forward again and pressing some of his flabby stomach down into the counter, which formed new rolls of lard that compressed and distorted his scales. The arms from behind him receded, and heavy footfalls came around the hybrid’s right side to bring the owner of that large paunch and stubby muzzle into view.
“I know, I know… When aren’t you ready to eat your weight in noodles?” Calibur, Lance’s mate, retorted with a light smirk on his muzzle. The brown bear-taur was taller than Lance, and wider by quite a bit. A red crop of hair atop his head was the only part of him that wasn’t purely-ursine, his fur being brown all over and every bit of him being bearish, from the stubby tail to the small muzzle to his large, thick paws. However, being a taur gave him a pair of stomachs, and the four-legged bear looked to take full advantage of that, as his front torso sagged nearly half-way down his thighs, and the second barrel of a stomach was scant inches from dragging on the ground. This gave the bear-taur a slow, ponderous waddle as well as making sure that most doors weren’t wide enough for him. The pair’s house had to be custom-built for Calibur after all, but neither one of them had minded it in the least… All of that flab was something they both relished. “The usual?”
Lance nodded in reply, and then shifted his stomach off the counter with a few squeaks and a light grunt. His whole frame jiggling profusely as it settled, the pandragon wrapped his paws around what he could reach of his heft and just held it to keep it from shaking him to the floor. His own stomach draped over his thighs as well, obscuring most of his manhood but not all of it; his shaft peeked out from the underside of his stomach even at such a heavy weight. Lance took some pride in that, and he had to groan slightly from his stomach brushing up against that package of his. Sensitive to his fat, as well as aroused by it, he could feel himself stiffen just as his gut was jostled about from the simple motion of standing there and rubbing at its heft. This made him blush anew, but before he could get too rowdy, he decided to leave the kitchen and retreat to the living room to watch television while he waited. This was the normal course of things after all; he would wait, Calibur would cook, and then they would share in stuffing one another till neither could even move.
“I’ll bring it out when it’s done!” came a shout from behind the pandragon, which made Lance just give a light wave of acknowledgement as he lumbered into the living room and sat down on the couch. Sprawling out lazily as he had to spread his legs to allow his gut to have room, the pandragon just groaned lightly and began to rub his stomach. His paws worked their way over its surface in slow and lazy arcs as the hybrid sat there in silent adoration of what he had accomplished simply with food. Lance was always glad to have been so fat, having been even a bit eater as a cub. Now however, he was well beyond fat, or even obese, and he couldn’t have been more content. The pandragon had clicked the TV on when he had entered the room, but was far more interested in himself as he relaxed on the couch and explored himself anew. Each time he got the chance to play with his heft, the pandragon took it and just spent as much time with it as he could. Every new roll, fold, crevice… All of them were there to be teased by his paws until the end of time. Lance loved it as much as he loved Calibur, so it was no surprise that he lost track of time entirely as he sat there in self-adoration and missed when the taur entered the room.
The clatter of dishes startled Lance out of his gut-groping session with a surprised squeak. This made Calibur just laugh heartily, ripples running through his gut in lazy, long motions as he chuckled at the expense of Lance. The hybrid’s face flushed with a deep blush in embarrassment from being surprised so easy by the food. He had been in his own little world after all, and it was something that Calibur understood even if he was making fun of the pandragon; the taur did the same thing at times.
“Dinner is served,” Calibur said, still chuckling softly. “All for you.” Lance’s eyes widened as he heard that, having seen the spread in front of him and wondering just what Calibur was planning as he drank it all in. Pastas, soup, multiple liters of soda, pies, a cake nearly the size of his lower torso… Calibur had gone all out, and Lance had to wonder how he had managed to get it all into the room without the pandragon hearing him. For being such a large taur, Calibur sure could be stealthy after all. It was a surprise to Lance, a welcome one, but he just looked at the bear-taur in front of him, staring over that large and sagging brown stomach, the bloated roll of flab that was once a neck, those cheeks that were swollen baseballs attached to his face, and into the brown eyes under the red outcropping of hair atop his head. “What?”
“This is a lot…”
“Oh, I know. You’re gonna eat it all… And this is just the appetizer. I made more.”
“More?! Really Calibur… Alright, as long as you feed me every bite of it.” Calibur smirked as he heard that, moving forward towards Lance until his front stomach touched the seated one of the pandragon. From there, Calibur simply sat back down onto his excessively-wide rear, which spread out like a flattened marshmallow behind him as he moved a couple times to get extra comfy on that built-in cushion of his. Once he was, his forepaws began to rub lazy arcs on the hybrid’s gut while his arms grabbed at two bowls full to bursting with spaghetti. Leaning down to reach Lance’s muzzle, those bowls coming ever-closer to that maw, Calibur just smiled a wicked little smile and gave his mate a wink.
“That was the plan.”
With that, Lance opened his muzzle up and Calibur began to pour the food in wholesale. The spaghetti went in by the messy mouthful, Lance’s maw quickly coated in a layer of spilled sauce and stray noodles as he drank it from the bowl in steady, large mouthfuls. His taur partner didn’t give him any respite though, keeping that bowl tipped up so that Lance had the choice to either guzzle down the pasta like he needed it to live, or be unable to breath. It was a pace that was extremely quick to just start a feast, but one that both beasts were quite used to eating at thanks to years of being unabashed gluttons. Lance was already getting aroused just from eating as he was in fact, his muzzle getting a blush on it to blend in that much more with the sauce that coated it from the tip of his nose to his stuffed cheeks. Slurping, moaning, and gurgling from the effort of eating at such a pace, Lance was hardly a show of manners at the time. It was just him and Calibur though, so the pandragon figured he could let his guard completely down and just enjoy being stuffed until he was fit to burst. He knew Calibur would feed him that much too; if his scales weren’t separated and he could barely breath by the time they ran out of food, it wasn’t a feeding after all.
The spaghetti was gone in a matter of minutes, vanishing down into the gullet of the pandragon in record time. It was followed by large raviolis, each one going down one at a time thanks to being the size of a small doughnut. They were bursting with meat, cooked in full-fat butter and coated in a heavy-cream Alfredo that Calibur had spent months perfecting. The amount of calories in each bite was more than most furs got in a whole day, and yet Lance was devouring them by the dozen as though they were simply air. It was a sight, sensation, and reality that made both Lance and Calibur stiffen that much more beneath their respective stomachs. Granted, Lance’s stomach was already beginning to tighten up with the influx of thousands and thousands of calories, making him have to grind against that stomach to tease and further arouse himself. His light movements sent ripples through his still-soft flab along his sides, and even made his moobs jiggle about ever-so-slightly. His chins were doing that as well, having to chew with each and every bite as they bounced along with his cheeks in a sort of gluttonous dance on his face. Lance couldn’t help but blush at that, but he still had so much more eating to do… A task that he was more than ready to accomplish as he opened his muzzle and prepared for the next dish.
Calibur’s forepaws had been rubbing and groping at Lance’s stomach since the feast started to try and keep the pandragon eating as long as possible. They wormed their way between every fold of fat that they could find just to tease the hybrid as he ate and ate. It was a new feeling for Lance, but not an unwelcome one as he felt his stomach swell into, and begin to press against Calibur’s. The bear’s sagging paunch was yielding and doughy, much unlike the tight one that Lance was now sporting. On his fourth platter, there was less and less for Calibur to grope as Lance was now starting to at least look full. The gluttonous pandragon was exceedingly far from it though, and the taur knew that as he kept his stuffing going at the same breakneck pace that he had started it at. Cramming useless, unneeded calories down into Lance, his arms simply there to hold up trays and keep them tilted down into the garbage disposal that he adored so very much. His forepaws were slowly losing soft, flabby rolls to grope, so instead they began to massage and rub at the sides of that taut gut pressing into his own while his stomach slowly sloshed side to side to get at the front. It was a new sensation entirely for the both of them, for Calibur had not been a taur for long, yet it gave away just how much they were both going to enjoy the newfound advantages of multiple paws.
Moving on to meats, Calibur could no longer keep a tray tilted to Lance and was instead forced to dangle juicy steaks one at a time in front of his greedy hog of a lover. The juicy slabs of meat vanished one at a time down into Lance in sloppy chomps, slurps, and smacks. The fat from the steaks made his cheeks and chins glisten with new slop, his whole face now a testament to just how truly gluttonous he was; as if his stomach wasn’t enough. The pandragon’s gut was as taut as a drum, and beginning to round out into more of an inflated beachball attached to a beached hybrid than a stomach. His stomach scales were as stretched as they were going to get, and it would only be a matter of time before they separated to reveal the lightly-furred flesh below them. Lance knew once that happened, he could eat and eat for a lot longer; his body was his only limitation now. Having been fully absorbed by his eating now, Lance could do little but grind against his gut, snatch the food from his mate’s ever-ready paws, and lethargically rub his paws on what little of his stomach he still had the energy left to reach. Calibur knew that too, as he had been there before many-a-time as well, and he knew to just press on and keep on stuffing Lance until they ran out of food.
Burgers, a few liters of soda, yard-long sandwiches… All those came and went as Calibur kept on stuffing Lance with reckless abandon. The pandragon’s stomach scales could barely take the pressure anymore, and neither could Lance as his breath was coming in low, fast pants between bites that swelled his cheeks out like a chipmunks. A loud pop made them both stop though, just for a moment, and then Lance let loose a belch that shook the windows of their house in their panes. His belly scales had finally come loose from one another in a single spot, allowing for far more room for the pandragon. Another loud pop, followed by several more, and the rounded ball of a gut that had been pressing so hard into Calibur softened and spread out like a deflated balloon now that the scales were separated from another. Bands of orange-furred flesh now peeked out between those scales, which were separated from one another by an inch or so all down his stomach from his moobs to his groin. The added room made Lance groan and squirm in excitement, his length now at full attention beneath the utter ball of an overstuffed gut he possessed. It was a while new experience for him now, as he sat in his self-imposed prison of a frame and just reveled at how stuffed he felt.
“Unzipped for more room huh?” Calibur quipped, getting another roof-rattling belch in response. The bear-taur just laughed heartily before resuming the work of making sure that Lance was full. Lasagna by the pound, full baskets of bread, and another round of the intensely-fattening Alfredo ravioli… If one were just outside looking in, it would look as though the bear-taur were Italian through and through. He wasn’t in the slightest though, and instead just knew what foods would be the most fattening, and leave the most weight on the pandragon once all of the feeding was finished. Lance loved that about Calibur, and he kept on eating even though his own pace was beginning to slow. He knew he was on borrowed time once his belly scales had burst open, but he planned on making the most of it all while he kept eating and eating. He crammed down whatever he was given, struggling to lift his arms to help out in the stuffing but only managing a gentle wobble of both the fat-laden appendages as he was so exhausted simply from chowing down with reckless abandon for so long. He was too stuffed to move, at long last, and now Calibur was going to make sure that moving wasn’t going to happen for a good long time… Maybe ever, again.
The main courses were finally exhausted as Lance’s stomach had expanded enough to push Calibur nearly entirely away, desserts could finally be focused on. They were few, but in quantities that made the main course look like it was simply an appetizer. A full drum of pudding, three cakes that were the size of Calibur’s lower torso, and enough cupcakes and various pastries to feed a small army. Lance knew that Calibur always went overboard with his pastry cooking, and yet he was more than willing to indulge that part of the bear-taur; the pandragon had one hell of a sweet tooth after all. He had to wait for the stuffing though, as his gut had swollen so large that Calibur wasn’t going to be able to reach around it to feed him all the food that remained. This in mind, the bear-taur simply wheeled the desserts around to the back of the couch one at a time, allowing the pandragon a few moments of respite from the stuffing. Lance did appreciate that, forcing out a few deafening belches and licking some of the slop from his face. A myriad of juices, sauces, and crumbs coated his muzzle, cheeks, chins, moobs… Even his shoulders had a little bit of the mess on them, but that could be cleaned later, for taking time out of his stuffing wasn’t something either one of them wanted to do. Instead, they just let it happen and worried about it later.
Able to let his gut fully sag down now, and having to adjust himself slightly so that he could fully grind against the bottom of his stomach with his leaking cock, Lance just groaned softly. During one of those little shifts, he had felt the cold surface of the wood floor on the base of his stomach, and knew right then that he was the fattest he had ever been. Nothing had ever stuffed him this much, and there was no way that he was going to be able to move for a long while after dessert… Calibur didn’t seem to mind that though, as he finished bring around the desserts at long last, a hose in one paw and a smattering of pastries in the other. A wicked smile formed on his muzzle, one that Lance returned with a sly one of his own.
“Ready for dessert?” Another belch came as a reply, ear-ringingly loud now.
Lance then opened his muzzle and waited for Calibur to stuff him senseless.