The slovenly wolfdragon licked at his lips, his tongue clearing the debris from his previous meal from them as he did so. His stomach grumbled in discontent, visibly stuffed to the brim, and yet still his mind craved more. Every fiber of his physical being begged the onslaught of food to end, but there would be no stopping the gluttonous hog in his quest for more. The greedy sphere of flesh, fat, and food wanted more, and more, and still more to be crammed down into the diminishing space inside him. He was sweating just from the effort of continuing to eat, and yet nothing would stand in his way from doing just that. The adipose packed onto his amorphous body was making that task a truly difficult one, but with an army of servants and a conveyor belt positioned right over his head it became possible. A funnel of sorts sending food right down into his maw, as well as a plunger-looking device to truly cram it down there completed the picture, and showed just how far the gluttonous draolf was willing to go to get that truly vague feeling of being ‘full’ to enter his mind. A button which controlled the contraption rested in his fat-swaddled paw, an appendage barely capable of even moving thanks to how tightly packed with lard it was. There was still enough mobility to feebly press the button controlling the conveyor though, and with a grunt of effort the blob of blubber pushed that button and began the process of cramming more food down anew.
A cake fell first, ripe with calories and overflowing with sweetness. It dropped unceremoniously into the funnel, breaking into smaller pieces before descending down into the wolfdragon’s muzzle. He greedily sucked it down, swallowing hard and fast at the doughy mess. The frosting went down smoothly, and the cake was so rich it barely needed chewing; this was how the glutton liked it. The crumbs kept on coming too thanks to the sheer size of the cake, and again the wolfdragon thanked his miniature army of chefs for their concoction. He slurped down the remains as fast as he could, a faint belch working from his muzzle as the last bits of that first casualty fell down his throat and into the tight confines of his midsection. There was barely even time for that though, as the hearty dessert was followed almost immediately by a slop of chili. Devoid of a bowl, the mess just dumped right into the funnel with a rather disturbing glorp before sliding slowly down towards the draolf. Never one to linger on flavors for more than the immediate time they were in his muzzle, the hybrid accepted the spicy offering as eagerly as he had the cake before it. Guzzling the syrupy chili down just as greedily, he could practically feel the gas welling up inside him just from the sheer act of eating that amount of spice and beans. The building pressure didn’t stop him though; it egged him on.
The process continued in this fashion for some time, be it with pies, lasagna, cookies, burgers, or any number of other foodstuffs which the draolf desired. A cacophony of belches, farts, and various slurping noises were the only sounds coming from the room aside from the dull hum of the conveyor as it brought more food out to the beached blob. The draolf didn’t mind the silence though; it kept his mind focused on just how fat and piggish he was being, and how much of a turn on that was. This was no surprise though, for far below his acreage of flab, he was as stiff as a board. The sheer act of overeating to this degree had a truly impressive effect on his endowment, and while he couldn’t see it, he could feel it on the sensitive underside of his stomach. He dared not even attempt to reach it, for he was getting full to the point of pain, but he knew that it wouldn’t be long before he blew simply thanks to eating. Sex and food had become one in his perverse mind, and that meant consuming as much as he had and turning his body into the useless sphere of overfed gluttony that it was sent the hybrid to his own personal heaven. There he stayed too, even as the pain of being so heavily stuffed began to seep into his enjoyment of the feeling of being truly and unabashedly full.
The draolf ate on for a minute or so more before he felt as though he could eat no more. He tried his utmost to swallow down the food in his muzzle, but it just wouldn’t go down. A ground-shaking eruption tore out of his rear, and had the overwhelming stench of being unwashed for weeks not already filled the air, it may have made the wolfdragon sick. The blast was worth it though, as it created just enough room in his innards for the food to go down without the plunger. The arm of the giant contraption was extended out on-the-ready though, and as the next thick piece of food fell towards the draolf, it went to work. The hybrid simply shut his eyes and opened as wide as he could as he heard the metallic arm come down on top of whatever food was in the funnel, the faint squish of metal on food reaching his ears immediately. Moments later, the edible slop left above his head reached his maw and began to force its way in. The beast shut his eyes tighter and winced in pain as his cheeks and throat began to stretch out to try and accommodate the forced entry. Deep groans and moans came from the draolf as even more food was forced down into him, but they were more of pleasure than of pain. He could feel his gut protesting angrily all around him; it was well and truly full. The machine didn’t care though, it was simply doing its job of feeding the wolfdragon, and as more food fell into the funnel, that job would be an easy one.
The plunger got barely halfway down in its initial stroke before the wolfdragon came. Thick, ropey strands of seed spewed out against his underbelly, his balls churning and forcing out their sizable contents. A deep groan of bliss came from beneath the fattened hog that was half-inside the draolf’s muzzle, still being forced down deeper as the machine had yet to shut itself off. The wolfdragon didn’t care though; he was lost in the orgasmic pleasure of his release. The pain of being overfilled melted away, as did the discomfort of the bands of stretchmarks which covered his overtaxed hide. Nothing else mattered to him at that moment, just the warm stickiness on his thighs and the twitching length between them. That wave of euphoria was accompanied by the intoxicating feeling of sleep, which nearly always came after stuffing oneself to the degree which the draolf was. He wasn’t quite ready to surrender to that feeling just yet though, and instead just relished the last few spurts of deed that he could feel before sinking down into himself in post-climax contentment.
The machine had stopped stuffing him once it had finished forcing the hog down into him, a switch which detected his orgasms being thrown and telling it to shut down. The wolfdragon feared for a moment he may have overdone it, but a roaring belch just came forth as the arm retreated back to its resting place once the food was fully inside him. More groaning spilled out of the wolfdragon as his eyes remained shut and he just sat in his bulk, unable to do anything else but be still and digest all that he had been crammed full with. Another roaring belch, accompanied by a hiccup this time, came out moments later as the wolfdragon sank into himself that much more. He could feel the room inside him closing up, and a small part of him wanted to push that button again to maintain the high of being truly and utterly full. Most of him was too tired though, as sleep’s calming embrace held him tighter and tighter every passing second. The draw of that high was strong though, but as his eyes and brain began to slow, he knew that all the chasing in the world wouldn’t bring it as strongly as he had just gotten it. Besides, there was always lunch.