Cursing under his breath, Dillon gave one more tug to his ill-fitting pants, his paws struggling to hold onto the straining material that was currently stuck just beneath the curve of his rear. He had worked the pants up his legs alright, though ‘Alright’ was a somewhat relative term considered that it looked like he was more wearing wrapping for sausage than pants once he took a quick look at himself. Those jeans were hardly going to make it fully up to his thighs and around his plush rear, and somewhere deep down inside himself, the collie knew that. These pants were his favorite pants. However, the canine having owned them for years, so he wasn’t just about to give up on them without at least somewhat of a fight. That battle had been a losing one thus far, though, as all of the tugging, shimmying, and wiggling of his frame into those pants had been for naught; they just weren’t going to go over his rump. Pulling one more time, this tug with far less effort than the others, the canine just groaned to himself and cursed again under his breath. He had to admit defeat and at least get something to keep him decent, or he was going to be late to dinner, and that was a prospect the collie dreaded even more than not fitting into his favorite pair of pants.
With some more shimmying and squirming, Dillon was able to lose himself from the constricting garment of clothing. Before moving to grab something that would fit, though, or rather one of the few things he had left that fit, the canine paused to look at himself in the mirror. Dillon had been avoiding that mirror for a while, as evidenced by the light layer of dust that covered its surface, but he needed to see himself after that battle with his jeans. See, the collie knew that he had been putting on weight, that much was practically unavoidable; the extra bounce in his step, the weak shaking of his stomach and chest when he brushed his teeth, the increased effort it took to get up a few flights of stairs… The signs had all been there and been there for a while. His wardrobe choices had been shrinking, a fact that at first was chalked up to the wash when it had only been a few items of clothing. This excuse no longer could fly though when even shirts were becoming too small, and pants were dropping faster than flies thanks to a meaty bubble-butt and plush thighs that were sprouting on the canine. Through all that, though, Dillon had still tried to deny it, saying he would start going to the gym or that it was just water weight that he would lose from a diet. Finally getting a clear shot of himself in the mirror, though… And the canine knew, deep down, that there was no way he was going to lose an ounce of the weight that he had found.
The first thing Dillon’s eyes were drawn to was his stomach, the table muscle that had caused the bulk of the newly added bulk to appear on the collie’s frame. Having little sag to it, that belly just jutted out in front of Dillon a few inches, round and firm with heft as well as being very lightly soft to the touch. His midsection was also far wider than he remembered it too, the sides of his newly-minted gut accentuated by a pair of burgeoning lovehandles, both of which tugged heavily at the waistband of the skimpy briefs which the collie adored, but knew were also becoming too small for his widening figure. Right under those lovehandles were the reason his pants were losing the battle of the bulge in droves; his thighs, the real star of the show on the plush collie’s frame. Each one wobbled faintly with every movement the canine made, be it a step or just a slight twist to get somewhat of a peek at his rear; that bulbous pair of spheres which practically ate up his underwear entirely between them. The light pear-shape to his frame, one that Dillon had ignored until that very moment, was enough to make the canine’s white-furred cheeks flush ever so slightly. Those cheeks of his… They had gotten bigger too, his jawline having softened just enough to be noticeable under the influx of poundage to his frame. His neck even felt a hair thicker, a black-gloved paw reaching up to give a light rub along his face as he blushed brighter. His bright green eyes couldn’t stop drinking up everything that he saw, from his thicker, swollen arms to the growing man boobs that had begun to sag from his chest. Every bit of him just looked thicker, heavier, and all-around fatter… And Dillon hadn’t been paying attention to this fact until that very moment.
Every excuse in the book flooded the canine’s mind as he tried to drink in more of his body, his eyes locked with the mirror. Being a college student had given him free reign to eat as he pleased, and that surely was part of things… But then his parents had never been very strict, so the canine had always had that freedom. He had been eating more thanks to stress, sure, but that alone didn’t seem like it would have been enough. Mixed with his lethargic nature of studying and classes, as well as more meals in general, though… It did make sense, to a point. To drive that point home, the job Dillon had at the school cafeteria was hardly helping to curb his apparently excessive consumption. The new weight still was a shock to the collie, though, as it was just so new and unexpected. The canine had never been fat, though, not even really qualifying as chubby ever. His whole life, Dillon had been toned, almost svelte… And now here he was standing on the precipice of being fat. He had only been at the school for five months, and he was already well past the freshman fifteen and somewhere around the freshman fifty. In five months. Five. Fucking. Months.
A buzz from the phone resting on Dillon’s bed snapped the collie out of his growing internal anger, reminding him just what he was doing in his underwear. Quickly reaching for a pair of pants he was sure fit, the collie practically jumped into them before yanking them up. Sucking in his stomach to fasten the pants, a move that Dillon was suddenly hyper-aware of, the canine groaned inwardly about the new weight he finally was noticing before reaching for his phone to see just what the buzz had been for. A new text was waiting for the collie, and without even looking he knew just who it was from, and what they wanted; it was Nick, and the collie was late for dinner. Dillon knew he was running a little behind already, though, so instead of bothering with a response just then, the canine decided to pocket his phone and go rummaging for a shirt that both fit, and was clean. That was a little harder of a task than one would expect in his small dorm room, laundry strewn across the floor as well as a few takeout boxes and some books; studies and work had taken priority over cleaning for the collie. There just so happened to be a decent bit of clothing resting on his bed luckily, though, so the canine wasted little time snapping that shirt up into his paws and tossing it over his head. His ears catching in the opening, the canine tugged at the cloth for a moment, his elbows rubbing against his soft sides to further make him aware of all of the weight that had been added to his frame; it was so obvious to Dillon now… How had he not seen it earlier?
With no time to ponder his ignorance, the canine set out from his small bedroom and into the common area of his shared dorm. Thankfully no others were around; his roommates were all very private or never around, and that was quite the advantage for Dillon, as he usually had the place by and large to himself. He sometimes saw Luke, a paunchy, nerdy dingo with whom the collie shared a few classes, but that was all he saw of the three other anthros who lived with him. Dillon did kick himself slightly for having such absentee roommates now that he thought about things; fresh eyes may have pointed out his weight gain before he had come to find it out in his bedroom mirror, but really… He should have noticed the signs before he had looked himself over. The collie knew that, and it was going to be on his mind for a long while. Just what he would do to lose that weight though was the real question he needed to mull over. It wasn’t bad, and he certainly didn’t look full-blown fat from it… He didn’t want to keep it, and he certainly didn’t want more, but the canine did know that he at least needed to do something about his expanding waistline. Just what he could do, and how much effect it would have, though… That could wait till after dinner; the cafeteria buffet where he was meeting his friends had ravioli that night, and that was one of the canine’s many food-related weaknesses.
After that dinner, though, Dillon didn’t think about his weight; how much he had stuffed himself at dinner instead filled his mind. That thought was so prevalent that the canine didn’t even remember much about his new gains, and when it was mixed with a long night’s sleep thanks to all that food, the canine remembered little about his previous night’s anger. With his new weight no longer at the forefront of his mind, life just continued for Dillon as the same habits that had added the pounds to his frame became amplified. It was a slow process, just as his gains had been previously, but it was one that added more adipose to his frame steadily. The collie did everything he could to avoid acknowledging it, though, subconsciously buying new clothes in bigger and bigger sizes as he outgrew his old ones at a rate far too fast to be explained by even the simplest of logic. Water weight, just a bit of bloating, winter coat… Dillon brought every single one of his excuses out as he watched his whole frame swell from merely chubby to downright fat over the course of months. Saying that Dillon watched this transformation happen though is somewhat untrue, as the canine deep down knew what was going on, but avoided looking into his mirror the entire time. Denial had its claws dug deep into the collie, and he wasn’t going to let that hold loosen in any way if he had a say in things. There were reasons for this, of course, but they were never ones that Dillon thought on consciously; Dillon just wanted to eat away some of his stresses, and any pounds that came with it were something he could deal with later… That was what he told himself at least, even if those words rang hollow.
Dillon was forced to contend with his steady gains many months after he first noticed that something was off about his body, the newly minted fat on his frame becoming more than a mere nuisance at that point. He had been getting winded ever so slightly just from ascending the single flight of stairs to his apartment, and that was well after he had noticed that he could feel a brush of his thighs against the bottom of his sagging, protruding stomach with every step he took up. His gait had gained the slightest hint of a waddle at that point thanks to the sheer bulk of his bottom-heavy frame; his thighs touched nigh constantly and had worn the few pairs of pants that Dillon could still squeeze himself into threadbare. The excuses for why this was happening were running thin, though, and with his new class schedule putting him home at times where he could actually see his roommates now, Dillon was forced to finally contend with his gains being noticed. There were few comments; all three of the canine’s roommates had put on weight as well, though not one of them was anywhere near the hog that Dillon had become. A remark here or there about his growing waistline had pushed the few inconveniences about his newfound rotundity towards the forefront of his mind, but Dillon either ate them away or just flat out pushed them down with more schoolwork. Those tricks were having less and less of an effect on the collie, though, as his panting, hot frame finally made it to the door his home. With his new weight, a new problem had come to make itself known very recently, and it was one that made sure no matter what Dillon did, he was going to be keenly aware of every single pound that he put on.
He was getting aroused from all of his new weight.
The hint of lust that came from his weight had started just like the pounds had; slowly. Dillon hadn’t, in fact, noticed it at first, not until he had woken up a morning several weeks prior with a stain on his sheets and a raging hard-on. Still groggy, the collie had tried to remember what he had been dreaming of… And immediately went pale as the prior night’s dream came flooding back into his mind. He had been running through fields of food, eating whatever he could and growing even larger and heavier. Doughnuts the size of inner tubes, rivers of custard, trees made of toffee… All of that dream had been food, and right before Dillon could remember being wrenched awake, he had been nearly immobilized by his gluttonous escapades through that dream world. Too fat to do anything, and he was turned on to almost the point that he could see his cock again as it pierced into the buttery fat that had become his sagging, doughy underbelly. The collie had no idea what was wrong with him, but he was too horny to think much on that. Instead, he slid a paw around the heavy expanse of his stomach, a task that was becoming at least moderately involved with just how much of him there was now, and grasped his length. His arm brushed against the folds of fat that had grown into full-blown lovehandles on his side, that paw having to grope around at the growing fat pad that enshrouded his sheath and kept his balls cradled even while laying still. It had been a while since Dillon had done anything with himself, and to even feel that his crotch had grown fat like the rest of him drew blood to his cheeks; the collie was more pig than a dog, and somehow he loved it. Those thoughts on just what had become of himself could wait, though, as that groping paw took but a moment to find his length and wrap around it. Fully erect and with his knot swollen to its fullest, it took just a few quick tugs at his cock to unleash a powerful orgasm from his crotch. Bucking up towards the ceiling from his prone position, Dillon had to bite down hard on his tongue to keep from letting out a lustful howl as he felt waves of utter bliss wash over him. Cum coated Dillon’s stomach, thighs, and sheets as it shot out feet into the air above the prone, jiggling frame of the collie that created it, and yet Dillon couldn’t have cared less. Instead, he just lay panting from the effort of such an orgasm, utterly unable process what he had just done, or why it had happened in the first place. There was some part of him, though, deep down but getting louder by the moment as the afterglow of that quick but powerful orgasm hit the collie like a freight train, that knew this wasn’t going to be the last time.
Indeed, that part had been right too, for it had taken only another two days before another food dream had woken Dillon up panting and stiff as a board. The night after that, just a dream about even more doughy blubber covering his frame had perked him up. It took just days after that dream for the sheer act of walking to start to arouse the collie, his thighs always groping and rubbing at his groin while the fat pat that ensnared it in its flabby confines continuously stroked and teased him. Dillon didn’t even notice that at first, instead choosing just to say that it was the memories of his perverse dreams that were getting to him and making him even more of a horndog than he was becoming. Denial only went so far, though, and when he was already trying to deny just what a class-act hog that he had become… Something had to give for the collie. It took weeks, but his willpower was being eroded both by lust, and the newfound desire to cram even more food down his gluttonous muzzle thanks to that lust. It was a vicious cycle that only contributed that much more to the college stressed canine’s overeating, and further drew more comments from his somewhat-concerned roommates. Even the few friends that Dillon had started to make notes of the canine’s growth, a comment here or there to maybe not make five trips to the buffet line coming in with increasing frequency. Dillon only took those comments in stride, though, as those five trips… Well, they happened at least five times a day. Dillon was quickly getting to the point that his eating and constant arousal around his weight and consumption were affecting his study time. Sure, he was not even close to failing any classes, and his grades were not suffering in the least, but Dillon could feel himself starting to ever so slowly fall behind in class. Being at the school on scholarship, and just what that could do to him… That was the breaking point for him. Something had to give, and as Dillon stood outside his apartment door with weeks of gluttony and gaining and covering himself in his seed just from the results of that all weighing on his mind, the collie knew that something was going to be.
Pressing a paw against the door, Dillon just steeled himself for the comments he was going to get. He was a bloated, sweaty, panting mess of a dog just from a flight of stairs, and had with him even more food to further damage his frame. He could feel a solid band of black-and-white fur exposed to the world under a shirt that would be a small tent on some, and yet for him barely covered the bulk that had piled itself onto his frame with gusto. His pants were clinging on for dear life, exposing a crack of plush, round ass to the world no matter how much Dillon tugged and squirmed. He, a collie, had multiple chins sagging under his muzzle and cheeks that looked to be permanently stuffed; contrary in every way to the sharp, chiseled faces his species was known for. Every inch of him felt cumbersome and fat, from his bare, stubby toes to his pointed, yet ever so slightly sagging ears. Denial had finally left him on that trudging waddle home from the burger joint just around the corner, and all that was left for him was a choice; accept being fat and let his baser instincts see just how big he could get, or finally gain some self-control and take back his body. Dillon knew the latter was the smart choice, and that it was what he should do… But he had denied doing it for so long that he saw it as a real struggle. Mixed in with school and just his life in general, the collie knew the stress of it all would be too much for him. He also knew that every single bit of his decision was already made for him, and that was thanks to the other part of him that he was neglecting to notice: his groin. He reveled in his weight now, just eating to eat rather than to push down stress or to nourish himself. He was groping at his stomach as he masturbated, rolling blubber between his thickening paws just to get himself off that much more. It was as much a sexual experience for him as it was anything else, and that quashed any thoughts of him losing weight without so much as a second thought. Dillon knew this, he knew it well… It was accepting it that he finally needed to do. He had run through every excuse time and time again, and yet none beat out that he was thoroughly enjoying himself, and every pound that he added to make even more of himself to enjoy. The last excuse had finally left him during his order from the burger joint, spurring him on to order enough food to get the attendant to raise their eyebrows in surprise, and mild disgust. Denial was no more; shame had been replaced with a perverse sense of pride, the last vestiges of restraint were set free… Nothing was holding Dillon back now, and the collie intended to make the most of that.
Treating eating now as if it were another part of his studies, Dillon exploded with new pounds far more than he ever had before. Treating an empty stomach as though it were a cardinal sin, the collie put on almost ten pounds in little over a week after coming to his decision just to consume. His mental blocks finally overcome and the concerns of his gaining gone, far less stress from his waist came to Dillon; he caught back up in class and was happier than he had been in a fair amount of time now that he was eating at all points of the day. His bag always had food in it, his muzzle stuffed from nearly waking up to sleeping with some morsel of food or another. This often left Dillon feeling bloated and painfully full by the end of his days, but the feeling of a veritable ball of food crammed down inside his burgeoning gut made each and every time he went to ‘enjoy’ himself that much better. The buffet line knew him by name at that point, and even made a point of making more of his favorites whenever he would show his face in that room, which was often enough to draw even more concern from his friends. His roommates were no different, all inquiring if he was really okay with just how much he had been eating, but Dillon would always respond with a broad grin or a satisfied belch and a pat to the exposed ring of fat that he would often show off with hidden pride before confirming that he was indeed fine. Some decided to write Dillon off as little more than a chowhound gone mad with the freedoms of college, and that did hurt Dillon to a point. The canine had his mind made up, though, and instead of letting it get to him, he just kept on eating; friends came and went, but his stomach was there to stay for good.
More months passed, more bulk found its way onto Dillon’s frame, and yet the collie never once regretted his decision. When stairs started to become an issue, the collie requested a first-floor apartment with his roommates. When money from his gluttony begun to wrack up bills, Dillon got a second job at the burger joint just steps from his house and used his employee discounts there to further glut himself into the realm of obesity. Classes too far from his home were shifted to online ones, with tests being the only thing that forced Dillon to leave his abode. Clothing from stores no longer could cover his stretch-mark-riddled pelt, so he began ordering from specialty shops online that catered towards pachyderms. Bathing became an issue, so Dillon started to shower less; his musk was pleasant to him anyways, and none of the others he lived with seemed to complain. No standard scale could track what Dillon weighed any more, so one for bariatric patients was ordered for the collie. Dillon couldn’t reach around his stomach anymore to get himself off, so instead, he just laid down on his belly and bucked into his quaking adipose until he reached orgasm. Sleeping without snoring so loud he got complaints became an issue, so Dillon got himself a CPAP and kept on eating. Each and every aspect of Dillon’s life had been given over to his stomach, the massive swell of fat and food that it was, and Dillon reveled in it. He had been to his doctor and given a moderately clean bill of health in spite of a long lecture about cutting back on his food intake; his body had agreed with his mind that it needed to be a mass of gluttonous blubber. That alone was enough to spur Dillon on to keep on glutting himself with reckless abandon, but… He needed some visual motivation now and then as well, just to see what he had eaten himself into.
For that, the collie had installed a mirror in his room that could actually fit all of his massive frame into its reflective confines, no small task with just how wide Dillon had swelled to. So wide was the collie that doorways were becoming a challenge, as even turning sideways his pillowy expanse of gut and his bulging swell of ass ballooned out from his frame and brushed the door’s sides. Moving to a house with a garage had been a recent thought of Dillon’s, but for now… The collie just stood and traced his eyes over his frame with unchecked lust in his gaze. Folds upon rolls upon crevices of fat lined Dillon, from the rolling hills of moobs that looked to be small stomachs, to the billowing bulges of his biceps, to the swaying, wobbling mass of thighs that brushed either side of the double-wide mirror, to the main event; a stomach that looked to have a life of its own, and weighed enough by itself to be a second entity that Dillon had to care for. Dillon’s eyes followed every curve of unyielding, pure blubber along his frame, his paws rubbing along what they could of that bulk to press down into its pliable mass and just mold Dillon’s frame like putty. Under those paws and beneath that thick coat of white fur which adorned the majority of his sagging front, Dillon could feel a myriad of stretchmarks along his hide, all running like a spider’s web along him and another testament to his unchecked, rampant gluttony. He could feel the light gurgles and rumbles of the stomach below those paws as it worked through the dozen or so doughnuts Dillon had shoved down into his belly just to get himself out of bed; he needed the energy after all to move his bulky mass. Grabbing full pawfuls of adipose and giving them a light jostle, Dillon barely contained a moan as he felt the drooping fat of his stomach slap heavily against his thighs, those legs which supported him looking like tree-trunks from what Dillon could see of them; his stomach covered his supporting appendages to nearly the knee. The large, cavernous divot of a belly button on the front of his stomach drew a stare from Dillon for a long moment, as he just came to wonder for the briefest of moments just how deep that cave of flabby dough really was, and just how often it was stared at thanks to shirts almost never being able to hide it from plain sight. In fact, Dillon just smirked to himself as he thought about the fact that he would need to buy clothes yet again for himself; short pachyderms weren’t much of a thing, and the canine was running out of sizes and X’s for his clothing to grow into. Just the thought of needing to truly custom-order his clothes sent a shiver down his spine, making Dillon close his eyes in lustful want and give a single thrust of his hips against the blubbery underbelly that enshrouded his crotch. He could feel the waves of undulating flab run along his frame and ripple from his swollen calves to his blubber-laden shoulders as he did that, another shiver running down his back. Dillon didn’t even need to look at himself anymore to know that he had grown past fast, past even obese… He was something else altogether now, and he craved even more. More could come too; a Master’s degree would make him more marketable after all.