Paws dangling uselessly in the air, the feline just had to wonder how he had gotten himself into this predicament. He could simply groan and turn his head, only just, to see that there were still many more offerings awaiting his consumption. Light growls and feeble roars of discomfort had seemed to fall upon deaf ears as he did his best to turn down the food. He was already far more full than he had ever been, and this was saying something when he felt just how much food was in the bulging swell that had become his stomach. To say nothing of just how round he was, the lion was simply trapped atop himself with no hope of getting any amount of exercise to lose all that weight. He was several times larger than even the heaviest in his pride before he had been lured away, and now he was going to be stuffed up to be all the larger. It wasn’t all bad, as he was doted over like he was some sort of king of these other odd lions, but he wanted to roam free. He wanted to be able to hunt, to prowl, and to even go about his own things as he once had. Instead, every facet of his life was now controlled by the many odd lions standing on their hind legs all around him. He couldn’t eat without their help, or even move under his own power without their aid any longer.
He hadn’t always been this way, not by any means. He had once been a powerful hunter just like the many before him. He had roamed the lands in search of his next meal or his next mate with pride, his mane shining brightly as a beacon of his success as his svelte, yet toned frame had been one to envy. Many a female had laid with him before, and the lion had quite the legacy built up for himself. This was to say nothing of the fact that he was a fighter as well, and had assumed power over his entire pride at a comparatively young age. He hadn’t thought much of this, and instead had just enjoyed his reign as he had always sought out that kind of power. The feline had also let that get the better of him though, becoming somewhat arrogant as the years of his reign had gone on. To this effect, when he had been told about a new hunting ground that had been found, he took it to mean that he should be the first to explore the grounds. He hadn’t seen that others were setting him up, or that he should have done more looking into just what was going on in this new area. He instead just went, alone, and that had landed him where he was.
In the new area that he had explored, he had found the village that he was now trapped in. The lion had circled the place a few times in curiosity, trying to suss out just what was going on within the small circle of strange caves. He hadn’t seen much that made him worried, but he had seen some of his own ilk. They all looked to be walking on two legs, wearing strange garb on their bodies, and eating with their paws first instead of just tucking into their food with their muzzle. This fascinated the lion, but it was also his undoing. As he had been observing the fellow felines, he had been captured by a couple of them. Granted, he had gotten closer than he should have; he could admit that to himself now as he lay beached on his own mass. As it had happened, some sort of contraption caught his leg, and as he had tried to claw and roar at the device trapping his leg, he had been hit over the head. Just what had struck him he still didn’t know, but it had knocked him right out cold.
When the feline came to, he was in one of those strange caves surrounded by several of the felines that had been walking on two legs. He just stared at them, curious and yet also somewhat frightened as they strongly outnumbered him. He didn’t know just what to do about this, but he was certain that they meant something for him. Roaring a few times to assert his dominance, the feline did his best to struggle and escape from the cave. His efforts were fruitless however, as his legs were all bound together to keep him from moving. The most he could do was uselessly flop about on the floor on his side, as well as swing his head and gnash his teeth. This seemed to work at first, as many of the anthro felines backed away from him in surprise. They were all making strange noises to one another, some gesturing to him with others gesturing to the woods from where he had come. The lion had no idea what this meant, and eventually calmed down as he tried to make sense of just what they were talking about. This calmness was taken advantage of, as two of the anthro lions came at him right when he lay still. Each grabbed onto his head, holding it still to in order to keep him from thrashing around.
Head now still as well, the lion was forced to just watch as what he thought was the leader came forward. The leader said nothing, but he did roar right at the lion with a mighty blast. The feline roared in return, and this exchange continued for a few more rounds of noisily yelling at one another. Eventually, the supposed leader backed off and gave a light nod, at which point three more of the anthro lions descended on their feral brethren. The lion tried to escape, to thrash, to do anything to get away as he felt his frame being lifted from the ground. His efforts were again in vain however, as he was lifted off the floor and brought out into the bright light of the day. He was held just outside, a crowd of the felines now amassed just outside the cave and surrounding their leader. The feline made many booming sounds and gestures, waving a stick in the air and then pointing it at the trapped feline. Struggling still, the lion did his best to ignore the glances and try to get away. There was no escape though, so he was forced to endure the confusing gestures and noises that were being aimed at him as he just lay in the arms of several anthro lions. He had no idea what was going to happen to him, but a part of him felt as though he had finally been bested. It was of his own doing too, and he was just going to have to accept that.
When the noises from the loud feline finally stopped, the feral lion was brought into another cave, though this one was far larger than the one he had initially been in. He was lowered down onto a large, plush surface that felt not unlike his own fur. He rubbed against it a couple times, trying to make sense of what he was lying on. Taking a few sniffs at the furred surface under him, as well as using the minute wiggle room his paws had to scratch at it, he couldn’t quite suss out just what he was laying atop. It was soft, and comfortable… A far cry from the hard ground to which he was so accustomed. Still very wary of his captors however, the feline didn’t let his guard down in any sense as he watched all but two of his carriers back away. The leader was still there, his eyes locked with the feral’s as they just stared at one another. The silent staring lasted for a few moments before the leader broke away, gesturing now to a pair of lions off to the side of the large, empty space. Both left immediately, the leader grinning broadly now as he turned back to the trapped feral. His smile stayed on his face as he approached, getting down on one knee and moving right into the face of the prone lion. The trapped feline tried to snap at him, but was again held back by the two holding his head in place. He tried again, but was again frustrated with simply moving his head slightly instead of being able to really move his frame. The leader didn’t seem upset by this though, instead simply sitting down opposite the trapped lion and still smiling even as he could see the fury of the feral’s eyes… Something was definitely wrong, or about to be, and the lion knew it as he lay still.
The two anthros that had left returned a few minutes later, bearing with them what looked to be an entire slaughtered hog. The feral drooled at the sight almost involuntarily; he hadn’t eaten in what felt like ages. He knew that the food wasn’t for him… Until he saw it set down right before him. The two that had been holding his head loosened up just enough to allow him to move in closer, and a few cautious sniffs of the food sensed nothing wrong with it. The boar was a fresh kill, untouched by any teeth or vultures, and it smelled absolutely heavenly to the feral lion. He looked around what little he could again, seeing the still-smiling leader gesture to the food as he stayed seated opposite the lion. Looking back at the food, baser instincts kicked in for the feral lion as he leaned down to take a bite. He still wanted to run, to escape, to get away by any means necessary. But he was trapped now by his stomach, and he at least figured he should get something out of the situation. That something was the hog, and then the meals that came after it…
That hog had been many moons prior, and since then the lion’s life had been one of utter decadence. He had grown to understand one or two words of the anthro lion’s speech. ‘Food’ and ‘Rub’ were ones that he knew, but that was about all that he had made sense of. Food was the one he nearly dreaded, as ever since his fateful first bite of the hog those many moons ago, he had never gone a single day without being stuffed to the utter brim. He always ate, always, when he was awake. He had an anthro lion monitoring him at all times, though recently that had become less necessary now that he was completely incapable of moving under his own power. Feasting unabated had taken a true toll on his frame, and the result was a body which was more fat than lion now. He felt sluggish, useless, and just bloated at all times. There wasn’t a moment that breathing came easy anymore, as his stomach was almost always distanced to proportions that looked to be almost insane. He had more than once feared bursting at the paws of the tribe that had taken him in, but he had yet to truly burst. He could feel stretchmarks under his fur forming when he was truly filled with food, but even those were becoming something that he was getting used to. It was a life that he had eaten himself into, that was for sure… But what lion turned down free meals?