Consequences

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Chewing was just utterly tiring. James’ jaw ached, his arms were sore as could be, and yet he kept doggedly lifting his paws to his face to stuff more of the food before him into his muzzle. Try as he might, he couldn’t bring himself to stop feeding his gluttonous face. The feline wanted nothing more than to stop, his ears pinned back in painful submission as his tail struggled against the ample curve of his rear to try and curl down. His whole frame wilted more and more as the lion continued to lift food to his face, time and time again, taking sloppy bites of the spread before him as he stuffed countless calories down into the black hole of his stomach. The dull roar of the crowd watching the lion did spur him on somewhat, but his arms just ached so very much. The stomachache from overeating as much as he had was beginning to form as well, and the feline knew that it wouldn’t be long before he had to give up. He couldn’t throw in the towel yet though, not by a long shot… He had to at least put on a good show for the crowd before him; there would be consequences if he didn’t.

Those consequences had made themselves known months before, and were what got the feline into the messy, fattening situation he was in. A compulsive gambler if there ever was one, James had spent much of his young life racking up an obscene amount of debt with his loan shark. Always promising to pay back with money he didn’t have, James had more than once bet on a ‘sure thing’, only to be met with failure. In for far more money than he could reasonably pay back, the feline had begged and pleaded with his bookie for one more chance, another try to win back what he owed. The bookie, a paunchy shark named simply Fin, gave James the one chance on the condition. That condition was a simple one too; if things went south for the feline, Fin owned him. For good too, as the amount of debt that James was in had very little way of being paid off without some serious work. The feline knew the stakes, and yet he had to give it a try. He did his research, placed his money down, and just hoped and prayed for what he had yet again been assured was a ‘sure thing’.

He lost.

James had wanted to try and flee when he found out that he had lost, but that thought was quickly dashed with a knock on his door. Sitting where he was now, stuffing his face even as the atrophied muscles in his arms ached and begged for mercy, James could still remember that knock. He had answered the door, a scrawny twig of a feline shaking like a stick in a hurricane. Fin had just been looming in the doorway along with a pair of burly bears, all clad in suits and all looking like they meant business. James stepped aside and let them all in, shaking that much more as each bumped harshly into his frail frame while making their way into the small apartment that James lived in. Sparsely furnished and hardly maintained, the three made their way into the small living room before inviting James to take a seat. Fin had already pulled up a chair opposite the sofa, and was sitting in it as James made his way to sit down in the sofa.

“You lost, didn’tcha?”

“Y-Yessir,” James squeaked out, barely able to form words as he squirmed around in place. He couldn’t look up off the floor, and that just made one of the clearly hired help chuckle under his breath. Fin sighed for a moment, leaning forward in his chair before continuing.

“You know what that means, right? I own you now. You belong to me, and me alone.”

“Yessir.”

“I’m gonna use you to make some money back now, got that?” James lifted his head up for the first time in the conversation, fear filling his eyes as he looked dead at Fin. The shark simply grinned as only his kind could, toothily, before speaking again. “I won’t kill you, if that’s what you’re thinking… You’re not in so deep that I’m angry. You do owe me a damned lot of money though, and I want that money back. So, what we’re going to do is simple; you’re going to make it back for me. Every penny, along with interest, do you understand?” James nodded, getting another grin from Fin. “Good. You know about those eating contests right?” Another nod. “Well… You’re gonna be my own star in them from now on, got that? It’ll take some time to make you a real star, sure… But we have plenty of time, now don’t we?”

“H-Ho-“ Fin help up a fin to stop James, shaking his head slightly in response to whatever question the feline was about to ask. The fin then flicked slightly, and with speed surprising for the hulking walls of muscle, each bear was holding James down with vice-like grips. Any thrashing and struggling that the scrawny lion tried was met with nigh an iota of give, and the shark had to grin at that. James stopped his fighting after a moment, realizing how futile it would be, and just turned his gaze back to Fin, pleading back in his eyes.

“How? Well… We need to get your capacity up first, of course. Then we have to make sure you have the build of a real competitor, and then… Well, then you start really making me some money. You know just one of those competitions made me almost half of what you owe me? They’re only getting bigger too, so… Well, you do good, and you may just find yourself with some free will here in a couple years.” Fin paused for a moment, turning to one of the bears and giving a soft nod before he stood up from his seat. The ursine grunted in response, gesturing to the back he had left on the floor where he had been standing. “For now though, let’s see what you can hold, hmm?”

“Wh-W-Why me?” James managed to squeak out, getting another broad grin from the shark as he turned back around from retrieving the back. Fin didn’t speak until he was looming over James, holding up what looked to be some sort of snack cake in one of his fins.

“Why you? Two reasons shrimp… First is that you owe me a lot of money, and I need that money back. Second is a lot simpler… I want you to see that everything has consequences. You like being able to get around on your own, to fit clothes that you don’t have to order off the internet, to not be ruled by your appetite, and well, I’m sure you like your freedom too. All of those are mine to control now though, as a consequence of doing what you did. You spent my money, so now I’m spending your body. Simple as that. Now…” Fin held the snack cake right up to James’ face, letting the feline sniff it for a moment before pressing it to his lips. “Eat, or I’ll have Boris there break your arm. You’re done when I say you’re done, and you speak when I ask you questions. Clear?”

“Yes…” James muttered around the snack, opening his mouth up wide right after he spoke. He took a large bite of the treat, chewing it up as fast as he could and gulping it down before he was forced to take another. Then another, and followed by another. The flow of food was at a steady, manageable pace, but it was constant. As James’ frame gave away, he never ate anything at all, always spending his money on gambling rather than food. As such, it took just a few snack cakes before he had eaten enough to consider himself sated. Fin wasn’t done by any sense of the word though, and moved on to what looked to be an entire spiral cut of ham. Unwrapping the sizable cut of meat, the shark held it up with both fins to the feline, who took bite after dogged bite out of the meat. Juices slicked against his furred muzzle and mane, the scraggly circle of fur around his head and neck becoming shiny in parts with the glaze as it stained his deep tan fur. Still on James ate though, even as he passed sated and went to full, then to stuffed. He kept eating though, the pain of the pressure on his arms as well as the intimidating scowl of Fin keeping him just motivated enough to keep on pressing through the beginnings of a stomachache.

Only three-quarters of the way through the ham by the time he couldn’t bring himself to take another bite, James just panted and then let out an ear-splitting belch. He then did so again, and a third time before his head slumped down and he just groaned aloud. Had he been able to, his paws would have gone to rub at the small bulge that his stomach was now sporting. The feline could barely breathe around the amount of food that was inside his thin frame, and yet he could still feel the meat being pressed to his face. The pressure on his limbs increased, and with a louder groan James tried to take another bite. He did his best, chewing it up slowly and gulping it down hard. Another went the same way, but trying to take a third was met with a gurgling gag from the feline. Fin then removed the ham from his face, placing it down atop the bag of food which he had brought along as he just stood before the feline. He didn’t say a word for a long moment, just looming over James and staring at him with an intense look in his eyes.

“Pay up, Boris.” Fin finally said flatly, holding out a fin to the bear. The ursine groaned outwardly at that, removing a paw from the feline’s trapped arm and reaching back for his wallet. His arm freed for the moment, James just let it slump down to his side in tired defeat, the feline absolutely beached from how utterly stuffed he felt. He couldn’t even feel anything else aside from his stomach, the fur around it stretched tight and his entire insides feeling as though they would burst. Groaning and panting hard as his stomach was putting pressure on his lungs, the feline just sat still in spite of being held in place, a sight that made Fin nod to the other bear holding him down. That ursine also released James, letting the feline slump down into place on his sofa. Defeated and stuffed fuller than he ever had been, James just sat there with his eyes shut and his entire frame unmoving.

“Good for your first try there, shrimp. Boris and Tony will be bringing some things into your apartment, along with instructions. You just rest here, and nap off your little meal… I’ll be back in a couple weeks to check your progress.” With that, Fin turned on his heel and lumbered towards the door, leaving just Boris and Tony in the room with James. Both bears looked at the lion for a moment, who returned their stares with a pleading one of his own. Each looked at each other, then back at James, before laughing heartily at the lion. James hung his head again, ashamed of himself for such a showing. He wanted to get up, but any movements he made jostled the incredibly packed stomach which was weighing him down to the couch, and therefore kept him from doing much else aside from sitting there. Sleep was taking him, and the feline knew it… He didn’t want to fall asleep, he wanted to get away, but as he sat there and his stomach started to gurgle as it tried to make sense of what had just happened, the grip of dreamland took his body away, and brought it into a restless, fitful food coma.

Some time later, James awoke to find his apartment looking considerably different. Gone was anything and everything aside from his coffee table, sofa, and television. The small messes which had been populating his house were gone as well, leaving a clean and very bare room in their place. A single note sat on the table, reading thus:

James,

Welcome to your new life, something which was of your own making. You are to follow the instructions below precisely, and don’t think about trying to leave or ignore them. We are watching at all times, and the machinery all has cell phones embedded in them; we know when you use them and for how long. So… Just don’t, or those consequences will come back to get you. Now, you are to do this every single day, without fail:

  1. Eat until you cannot move, as often as you can.
  2. Use the water sleeping hose whenever you sleep, as it will keep your stomach at max capacity even while you are sleeping.
  3. Do not try to leave the apartment
  4. Walk and use the free weights to keep your strength up as we do need you at least somewhat mobile for when we finally want to use you.

That’s it. Do those four things, and we will get along smoothly.

Fin

James re-read the note once, then twice, and then just sighed. He still felt full from the meal earlier, and yet he knew that he would be punished for not eating anything. Standing up with a soft grunt, the feline placed a paw on his still-sore stomach and gave it a few gentle rubs as he meandered into the kitchen. He found a new, far-larger fridge, an over that looked to be at least a month’s rent for him, and various boxes crowding his countertops. It was a shock for the feline, but one that he just sighed and accepted as he looked over them all. Deciding to just take one of the boxes with him, the feline didn’t even bother to look at what was in the box as he hefted it up and carried it back to the sofa with him. Once there, he placed it down on a cushion beside him before sitting down and cutting the box open with a sole claw. Inside he found various snacks, which he cut open one at a time and began to stuff his face with. Turning on the television so that there was at least some entertainment for him to watch as he ate, the feline really began to tuck in, accepting his new life almost immediately given that he had no say in the matter.

Chips, snack-cakes, pastries, nuts… It was all there, and James doggedly stuffed his face as he listened to the television. He passively watched it, but was far more focused on his meal as he ate and ate. He had never really been given the chance to eat, and now that he was really getting to do so, something far more primal in his brain had been tripped. Not bothering to wash up from earlier, and letting new crumbs and crèmes coat his mane anew with a new mess, the feline just ate. He gave in to that primal part of himself, and it wasn’t long before that overstuffed, painful feeling was filling him again. James tried to eat a little more, only to feel that gurgling gag come on. His stomach was an ever-so-slightly larger ball of food now in front of him, resting heavily on his torso and bulging out just enough to give him the appearance that at least he ate. The feline could feel the food coma of before coming up to get him, so he looked around for that sleeping hose that he had been told to use.

Upon finding the hose, James decided it looked nigh identical to a CPAP, and immediately knew how to use it. Strapping the hose to his face using the common mask that he had seen before in the bedrooms of his fatter friends, the feline placed the hose into his muzzle and grunted slightly. Panting through his nose and just groaning as the overfull feeling was putting him to sleep, James barely had the strength to reach for the button to turn it on before the food coma he had put himself in lulled him off to bed. Of course, the sudden influx of water into his muzzle kept him awake for a few more moments, but that was hardly enough to stave off the food coma. Even as he felt his stomach stretch out that much more, his paw rising slightly up more from where it rested on the gentle curve of his stomach, James just went to sleep, again restless and fitful as his body tried to make sense of what was happening.

This occurred time and time again, stretching on for months as James ate himself out of being a scrawny feline into being a full-blown porker. His size was deceiving however, as beneath the thick coating of fan fur that covered his frame, a myriad of stretchmarks formed over the months of turning his stomach from a simple food-storage organ into a veritable food sac capable of holding multiple pounds of food. James would often need a different set of clothing entirely by the time he had finished stuffing himself, and if he really worked, he could eat himself beyond the size-limits of conventional clothing these days. He would never be able to move after a real feast, a feat which had made even the stoic Fin smile once James accomplished it. Each and every stuffing he had left him with a swollen beachball of a stomach, and upon sticking to that routine, James would often be so bloated with water by the time he woke up that he simply gurgled like a fish rather than a feline. He could barely move under his own power anymore, needing Boris to help him get around even when he had only eaten seven courses thanks to how much James had succumb to his new life.

His current showing was no different, as James had been eating for nearly an hour. This was his second public show, his first having gone so well that Fin had needed to move James up multiple brackets in the food-competition world in order to get him into a contest. This one, populated by hardcore eaters, was almost too easy for James. He had already won, handily, and was now just going for the showboating prize which promised him double the winnings. Having been eating for nearly an hour already, the feline could feel his stomach stretching out audibly with every bite he took. He had to reach around the swell of his stomach, which was taut as a drum and had fur thinning all over its expansive surface. His gut dominated his figure, as it always did every single time James stuffed his face. What had been a sagging, fold-covered swell that just made him look fat when he had come in had turned into something far more than that as the feline sat in his seat and just glutted. He kept reaching, his single paw still able to reach the table as his stomach rested on a second chair opposite him, and grabbing at the food left for him. He had already needed to dig into his opponents’ food, having devoured his own in record time. James was an unstoppable juggernaut of eating now, all thanks to having lost some gambling debts… It showed through in spades, and yet the feline kept on eating and pushing to be able to eat more.

He was afraid of the consequences after all.

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