Orbital Drop

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The morning started with a growl. It was a low, deep one, and came from somewhere on the feline which he hadn’t seen in his entire life. He worshipped that part of his frame with revelry which few could even pretend to know though, and constantly gave it offerings which gods would envy. That part of him craved for more though, always hungering to be pushed to its limits and forced into pain. The car craved that too though, and as he felt another gurgling growl building up within him, he knew that his craving would need to be sated soon. The panther was in no mood to wither away while his angered, empty torso consumed him from within. He wanted to give up his daily offerings to that midsection, to force it out that much more and to add just a hint more to his entire build.

And so Res gave in to his stomach.

The black panther opened his eyes and looked around him, ripples running along his oceanic surface as his titanic gut gave out another demanding growl. The hose in his muzzle, which was fastened there permanently thanks to some very strong, yet very stretchy elastic, immediately began to pulse once the feline’s eyes opened. Res could feel his gargantuan table muscle churn and undulate as it knew a meal was coming, and yet the feline could do nothing to stop it. Faint whines of discontent came from him as the food took its sweet time working the way down the hose and into his muzzle. It was an excruciating wait, even though it was less than five seconds. Res thought it years though, and his stomach acted as though it were centuries. Both gluttons just wanted food to begin entering them, to satisfy a greed which had rendered Res immobile and his stomach the size of a two-story house.

Food hit the panther’s muzzle just a moment later, and immediately his eyes rolled back into his head and his throat began gulping the mixture down in long, hard swallows. He could feel the stomach packed somewhere in the sea of lard he called a body swelling up with food the instant it got what it wanted, the complaints of being empty dying down rapidly. A gluttonous rumble or greedy growl still came out from the property-filling sac of fat, but its feline owner was working as fast as he could to quell the beast. Res couldn’t rub or even move his paws to try and give the ball of food and fat attention, so he just looked over the massive cheeks which obscured most of his vision and mentally rubbed it. He loved that gut of his, and would do nearly anything to keep it full and digesting at all times. There was nothing he wouldn’t eat, no one he wouldn’t digest, and nowhere he could move. The immobility didn’t bother him though, for being his size had brought him many-a-admirer, and that meant free food for as long as he had the stomach to eat it.

Looking over his cheeks at what little of his body the black panther could see, Res sighed a bit and wished he could look at more of himself. Being as large as he was kept him constantly aroused to nearly painful levels, but being unable to even so much as wobble his hips, he couldn’t release ever. No fur could even try to get beneath him to pleasure him, and just getting off on rubbing the fat against his throbbing shaft had gotten old. The feline wanted something new to spice up his life, which had become little more than eating until he passed out in a bloated, drunken haze of massive overeating, and then repeating this ad nauseum. It was a good life, a lazy life, and one which many would happily enjoy. The feline was getting tired of it though, and wanted to see more of himself to see just what he had become, as well as do something new. Just seeing the tops of the hills of moobfat wasn’t enough anymore.

As much as Res wanted to do this new thing though, being as large as he was stopped any thought of that from happening. It would take industrial cranes just to lift his moobs from his sagging chest, and even if they were raised he would still have well over sixty tons of ass alone on the ground. The feline was far too fat to do anything but sit and stare over his own, ever-expanding horizon. Blinking was even becoming a challenge in his incredibly obese state, as the fat which was bunching up on his forehead above and his cheeks below was making moving his eyelids a real task. His muzzle couldn’t shut due to the weight of his chins, and making a fist was long ago removed from what he could do when the fat on his paws overshadowed the fat on his fingers. Res was well and truly beached, lost in a sea of his own gluttony and enormity. He loved the feelings of it, the constant motion, the warmth, the arousal… It was all blissful to him. He just. Wanted. Change.

A sudden rumble from the ground below him made the feline snap out of his thoughts. He opened his eyes just a little wider than normal, surprise filling him as he felt the ground below him shake again. At first he thought it was just his gas, which had been known to cause earthquakes before. This was not him though, and just got more violent as the seconds went on. Res could feel his flab shaking and jiggling all over his form, the rolls stacked on rolls along his back alone moving feet in each direction as the ground below the cat shook. It began to roll as well, shifting up and down as it shook all over, making Res bounce in spite of himself, and his weight. This was the most movement he had felt in longer than he could remember, and he came in spite of the massive quaking all around him almost immediately thanks to it. Deep pants and a low purr rolled out of the still-eating, still-horny feline as this happened, and as the earth itself tried to rattle him to pieces, the feline couldn’t have been more happy.

The earthquake didn’t just end when Res came though, and got more violent for a moment longer before starting to die down. This surge in violence made something interesting happen to the cat though; it offset his weight just enough to make him start tipping over. It was a slow process at first, his whole frame moving from side to side and up and down as it began to lose the precious balance which had kept Res’ head above him for as long as it had. The feline couldn’t even feel this happening though, nor could he see it, as he was too lost in his own gluttonous world of eating and pleasuring himself to care what was even going on with his own frame. He was going over though, falling back like a building tipping over in slow motion. What little bits of skeleton comprised the cat were being pulled along by the masses of adipose that surrounded it, moving faster and faster as gravity began to take hold of the blob of black panther lard. Res still didn’t notice this though, only being snapped out of his own mind once he was pulled so far back that the feeding hose attached to his muzzle snapped off. The elastic around his head broke and the whole apparatus just was yanked from his head. The tube came out of his thick, drooping muzzle with an unceremonious pop, and then danced along the several chins and rolls of cheeks as Res’ fat moved rapidly beneath it. The panther had no idea what was happening, nor could he turn his head to find out. He was just trapped for the ride, which was going to end soon as the ground came rushing up to meet him.


The sound of countless pounds of blubber smacking against warm concrete filled the air, audible even over the sound of the earthquake dying down. Res had to yelp in pain as his sensitive flesh made contact with all that warm, hard surface now under him. It was a constant pain too, getting worse as the fat stretched and rubbed along the coarse surface with increasing speed. The feline knew deep down he was going to fall flat on his back, but he didn’t think he would hurt himself thanks to how much adipose he had eaten onto his frame. With his head encased in fat, it was one of the last things to make contact with the ground, but it certainly did make it once all the rolls of blubber along the back of his head, around his ears, and comprising what had once been his neck had all bunched up to absorb what they could of the impact. It was a thunderous crash though, and did nothing for the feline but instantly knock him unconscious. Had that been all it did, that would have been enough, but there was so much more his pudding-like body had to do. Res wouldn’t get to see this though, as he was out cold from the slam into concrete. At least he was alive though, and off in dreamland.


Res awoke with a snort, lying flat on his back with his moobs covering his face. He couldn’t see anything at all, but he could taste the sweat and slime and grime which had been built up on his rancid surface from the months of going without a bath. His own incredibly strong musk filled every breath he took in, stinking of food and sweat and sex in every way possible. The slovenly feline rarely paid this part of him any mind, but now that he was getting a faceful of it he had no choice. He knew that he was a disgusting, fat pig in every sense of the word, but he reveled in it and worshipped just how gross and lard-laden he had become. This was another reminder of it, and brought him to attention deep below his thick belly in a matter of moments. He may have just woken up and been injured thanks to being so haphazardly toppled, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t himself; his greedy, sex-driven, gluttonous self.

As he became aroused beneath his immeasurable weight, he felt the gurgle of his stomach as it began to demand food once again. He hadn’t eaten in who knew how long, nor had he been able to finish his pre-pre-breakfast. This posed a problem for the cat though, as it would mean somehow moving himself out from under his moobs and into a position in which he could eat. Luckily, he could feel paws on his moobs, and he knew he was going to be saved. There was nothing he could do to expedite this process though, nor could he even try to call for help thanks to the fat around his muzzle. He had to wait, and that meant being aware of how hungry he was. That awareness was going to be the end of him, as he could only imagine how many calories falling had cost him, and how many he hadn’t eaten in the time he had been out. He wanted to be a massive blob, and that wasn’t going to happen if he wasn’t eating. He had at least gotten his excitement though…

Minutes later, sun peeked into the sea of fat which had encased Res, and he smiled broadly as he felt like he was saved. A gurgling, loud belch rolled out of his muzzle, and stunk of chocolate, the second his rescuer lifted the offending cleavage which had been trying to smother him. The feline was grateful to his savior, but couldn’t see them. He could feel them though, and as he looked on he began to let his eyes adjust to the light. It was a big fellow, that much was for sure, and he looked to be smiling thanks to the white teeth that Res could see. He wasn’t sure of what else though, thanks to the sun’s backdrop behind the fur making it hard to see him. The feline waited just a bit more, squinting and panting hard as he had to crane his head what little he could just to see who had given him fresh air and could feed him…

It was a gingerbread man, and immediately Res had to eat him.

The feline’s muzzle lashed out as far as Res could stretch, grabbing ahold of a paw which had wandered too close and sucking it down with ferocious strength. Using a range of motion he didn’t know he had, and a gullet which had been drinking from a tube for ages, the feline sucked down his prey like a wet noodle. He was met with little resistance as this happened, the cookie man looking far too surprised to do anything against him. It gave a few weak slaps and kicks, but nothing could stop the gluttony of the black panther. He was going to have his prize, and that meant getting it all down as fast as he could. He didn’t even chew as he sucked the living pastry down, just guzzling him up in short order and leaving just a few crumbs and some streaks of icing in his fur to show that the cookie had ever existed. It was an extremely rapid consumption, and left the feline just a hint more sated as he let out another uproarious belch.

Once that was done, Res could feel that he had moved onto his side. His gluttony and his incredibly malleable fat enabled his skeleton to essentially ‘swim’ in himself, and the feline got an idea as he realized that. He began to work himself over, making minute adjustments to himself as he moved. He could feel his insides and his flesh fighting him with every motion, but hunger was driving him to be more and more aggressive with his movements. He began to rock, albeit slightly, by using his flatulence to push his rear up just enough to move it and then using his stomach’s mass to move back and forth. It worked slowly, but surely, and left the cat panting after just a few moments. He was determined though, turning more and more until he had completely spun around so that his head was facing the ground. It was hardly comfortable, but it worked like a charm and let the feline see just what he had hit his head on.

The ground beneath him was made of graham crackers, and the feline’s greed got launched into overdrive as he smelled this. The lack of light from beneath his own fat prison meant he couldn’t actually see what he was eating, but his mind and nose filled in the blanks as his muzzle began to do what it did best; consume. Bites the size of small furs came out of the ground as Res glutted himself on the surface under him, making him move all around as he had to get at more and more. Eating after a few bites was going to be a challenge, but the feline used the power which his hunger gave him and managed to move himself enough to get bite after bite. He also moved with his fat, using the ocean of lard to his advantage as it pushed more edibles into the hole he was making beneath him just thanks to his size. Res knew that what he was doing shouldn’t have been possible, and that no gingerbread men nor graham cracker ground could exist. His sane mind was leaving him though, and it was being replaced by greed. That part of him didn’t care what it was, or why it was, it just wanted more.

More it got too, as the bites got bigger and Res got hungrier. He should have been feeling fuller, as he had already sank almost four feet on all sides thanks to his eating all that he had been resting on. He could feel water beginning to flow on one part of him, but a closer test of that feeling gave away that it was actually chocolate milk. Res wanted that too, but would have to eat his way to it. It would take him a while to do, as it was nearly a whole fifty feet from his mouth, but he would make it as he was still as determined and hungry as when he had started. He had a weakness of any food being placed in front of his muzzle being something he had to eat, and with the world appearing to be made of candy… The feline was going to be unstoppable.

He eventually reached the chocolate milk, far more of a blob than he was when he started. His eyes had completely shut, and his muzzle was little more than a gaping hole which he forced down onto food all around him. His body was bloated out far larger as well, having swollen nearly ten feet in each direction as he just continued to glut and glut on the food which he felt all around him. He was unable to tell what the food was though, having to rely on smell and taste alone to tell him what was going into him, and his taste was very overworked due to his gluttonous nature. Smell was telling him that he was nearing some sort of warm, gooey chocolate, and Res had to have that. There was a lot of it too from how things felt, and he was going to need to eat like mad in order to get all of it. Eating like mad was something that the blob of panther could do well, so he pressed on and continued to tunnel his gargantuan frame through the very earth which had set him on that path.

Biting off piece after piece all around him, Res had eaten down enough once he finished the chocolate river below him that his whole body had stretched out into a reverse tear-drop of sorts. A lot of his fat still sat high above him, but his frame was stretching thanks to how much slack was in his flesh and how much blubber was being formed due to the ever-growing appetite he possessed. He still had to eat enough to fit his wide frame through, but now that the feline’s muzzle was stuck open for good, he just had to suck down the food and his throat did the rest. This streamlined the whole process, and for once the feline could just vacuum up his food in the truest sense of the word while his body grew larger and larger all around him. His stomach was beginning to complain about how much work it was being forced to do, but the panther could do nothing about that either. He wasn’t going to stop just because he was starting to feel full… No, if he did that, then he wouldn’t be a true glutton.

His consumption went on for some time before that gooey chocolate broached his lips. As it did, Res felt his entire body shift, and then plummet all around him. He must have eaten so much that the ground which had been supporting him gave, and fell down all around him. The fall was a short one, and had a far better landing than his first one; it put him in that unending lake of gooey chocolate. He immediately purred as loudly as he could, a muzzle full of chocolate making the noise gurgly. It was far more food than even the feline could eat, but he was going to try anyways. He wanted to get it all, and despite being so impossibly fat that even his eyelids looked to have rolls on them from somewhere under the sagging forehead which covered his face, he ate on. Not caring about the consequences, the feeling of fullness which was beginning to grip him; nothing could stop him.

Nothing did either, as he swam and ate for what felt like days in the rivers of chocolate that made up his bizarro earth. He ate the nougatty core in the middle on his second day, making short work of that. His frame had even begun to adapt to how fat he was, not in a way that was very useful to living, but one that made eating even easier. His throat was now far wider and able to take in bites that resembled cars. His jaw had gotten stronger, and bigger, as it was used nearly 24/7 by the feline. HIs fat limbs had grown longer and could now propel him, albeit incredibly slowly and with monumental effort, through the chocolate which he was still eating. There was nothing he couldn’t do in his new habitat, but maintaining it was going to be a problem. He was eating so fast with his new body that he was running low on chocolate, and would soon have to eat the crush which he had once so foolishly lived on. That would be it too, leaving nothing left of the earth around him. What he would eat from there would be anyone’s guess, but that was not something he thought of. His mind was too far gone into his gluttonous desires, wanting nothing but more food and more fat. It was what he lived for, what he had evolved into, and what he would be until he stopped…


“RES!” Came a voice, snapping the feline awake with a snort. He grunted, then looked at a burly fur holding up one of the moobs over his head. “Oh good…”

The fur just happened to look like a gingerbread man to Res.


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