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Foxington of Fat pt 4
🕑 Added 2023-03-23 22:29:27 +0000 UTCIn her last moments of consciousness, Diane Foxington’s thoughts centered on the overwhelming euphoria that came from her blob-like state. The undulating of her vast mountain of blubber as her limbs and head were gradually swallowed up by her own body was simply too much pleasure for her addled mind to bear. She underestimated what the volume of the feast would do to her, expecting her stomach to handle it like all the others. Passing out from her gorge, she never knew she’d spend so long out of commission.
Three months passed since the feast at the villain’s convention before Diane finally woke from her slumber. To her surprise, she found herself back in her bed, able to fit in it once again, though still quite snug. She was at least half her size since traveling to the convention; still the largest fox in Los Angeles, but only half the length of Wolf’s car compared to her previous size. The ravenous urge to glut and gorge felt much more tame, no longer filling her every breath. After such a long sleep, her previous feast and the delectable time she had overeating, now felt like a distant dream; one she could reach out and grab, only for it to fade into smoke.
Now in a more manageable size, she returned to her governing duties. New policies were soon put in place making improvements to California’s agriculture and businesses, both large and small. Restaurants and grocery stores received a new boom of business, with new locations sprouting all throughout the state. Business owners from neighboring states likewise expanded west, with some using L.A. as their first location. With a spark of her gluttonous self still lingering within her stomach, Diane couldn’t have been happier with the influx of new places to eat.
After another few honorary openings of new eateries, the vixen made one last stop over to Wolf’s hideout. She undid her tie and unbuttoned her suit in the elevator, holding a box of push popsicles under her arm, a birthday gift for Mr. Snake. As the elevator opened, she was greeted by an all too familiar sound. Her ears twitched, listening to Snake’s labored moaning and groaning over the echoing of what sounded like soupy bubbling coming from the couch.
“Happy birthday,” Diane walked over, “uh…Snake?”
The vixen’s eyes grew wide with shock as Snake came into view. The serpent had fattened up as large as the couch itself, taking up every inch of cushion space. He appeared as if he’d eaten an entire cow, swelling his once sinewy body into a bed of squishy blubber. Wolf stood over him shaking his head, much like he did with her after a massive gorge.
“He won’t be eating any of those for awhile,” Wolf commented on the push pops. “All he wants is more pie. I told him not to overdo it, but since it was his birthday, he insisted. Blew his whole paycheck to boot.”
“*Hic*, *uuugh*, so…good,” said Mr. Snake, “need, *hic*, more…*ooogh*.”
Diane set the push pops down on a nearby table. “I’m sorry, what are you both talking about?”
“This new bakery that just opened up,” said Wolf, “called Foxy Delights. You should have seen it, everyone’s crazy for the pies there. Even Snake couldn’t help himself, and he doesn’t even like pastries. I think you might have rubbed off on him, Diane.”
The vixen tried thinking back to her previous feasts. Though she still ate hearty compared to any other vixen, it had been months since she had truly gorged herself to such a degree. Even in the recent days she would eat out with Wolf, she hadn’t been stuffing her face to the point she had to lie down. She hadn’t felt the need lately to glut herself with abandon, let alone gobble up another beast.
“*Bworp*, *guh*, there was a fox near the, *hic*, donut shop we always go to,” said Snake, “he was giving out free samples of their pies. I tried the coconut cream, *hic*, and I was hooked. We drove down there, *hic*, and the place was packed. I managed to squeeze my way in and bought several pies. *Uuugh*, they were, *hic*, amazing.”
Diane blushed at the look of ecstasy on Snake’s face, wondering if it was the same look she had during her past feasts.
Snake continued. “Loads better than, *hic*, guinea pig. I just kept eating and eating, *urp*, couldn’t stop myself. They had to cut me off once I ran out of money, *hic*, and Wolf didn’t want to spend any more.”
Wolf prodded Snake’s chunky middle. “That’s because you already blew through all the birthday cash I gave you.”
“*Hic*, it’s not too late. We could still go back, *orp*, before they close. Please?”
“So you could get even bigger? I’ll pass. It was hard enough hauling you back here at his size.”
“*Hilp*, for those pies…it was worth it.”
Diane gulped as Snake patted his round middle with the end of his tail, wearing the same smirk of gluttonous satisfaction she’d wear herself, like looking in a mirror. She gave her final well wishes to Snake and Wolf before saying goodbye and returning back home. The renovations to her house made it easier to navigate through at larger sizes. Taking her newly expanded elevator down to her secret lair, she searched her computer’s database for any information on the Foxy Delights Baking company.
Having a primary foothold in Nevada, they had opened up their first bakery in California only three days ago. Their popularity spread like wildfire with many beasts first tasting pie samples from different locations around Los Angeles, just as what happened with Mr. Snake. Curiously, every customer who ate at the bakery displayed signs of rapid weight gain, as well as an insatiable desire to continue gorging on more pies. Having known virtually every restaurant in the city, it amazed Diane that such a place managed to remain under her radar. Something felt off about this bakery, and she was determined to get to the bottom of it.
She found the location of the Foxy Delights factory near the edge of the city. Slipping on a resized version of her Crimson Paw jumpsuit, she gathered a few gadgets and headed on over. Diane parked well outside of the factory’s perimeter fence, using her blowtorch lipstick to cut out a sizable hole for her to slip through. She kept to the shadows brought on by the setting sun casting itself over neighboring buildings and vehicles. Making her way toward the main factory building, she peeked over from behind a van, watching the goings on from a distance.
There were four semi trucks lined up outside the wide factory doors, all with trailers attached to them branded with the Foxy Delights logo. A collection of rotund foxes used forklifts loaded with crates on top of palettes to load each of the trailers. Diane could only imagine how many pies filled each crate as they churned them out of the factory like bees coming and going from their hive; even the foxes not operating the forklifts hustled along, despite their hefty sizes. Her own stomach gurgled in eager anticipation at all the good gorging that laid before her; but Diane kept her focus on her mission, ignoring any temptations to keep her from discovering the factory’s dark secrets.
Sneaking around the back of the building, she picked a locked door and entered into a dark room. She turned on a small flashlight, curiously finding herself in a room filled with large barrel drums. On the side of each barrel was a label that read, “Formula F.” She removed the steel lid of one of the barrels; the liquid-like contents inside resembled vanilla pudding. Taking a vial shaped gadget from her belt, she scooped up some of the barrel's contents for analysis.
“Goodness,” Diane whispered, “no wonder everyone’s crazy for these pies.”
The device whirred and beeped as it sifted through every ingredient and compound within the liquid. What was labeled, “Formula F,” had the capability to tantalize one’s taste buds, amplifying the taste of whatever a beast would put in their mouth. Once ingested, their appetites would go into a frenzy, demanding more of their previous meal regardless of how much of it was already eaten. The victim was forced to submit to an insatiable urge to glut till either they were stopped by another, food was no longer available or they would pass out. With such a strong mixture being added to their pies, Diane understood now how Mr. Snake was able to grow so huge.
Suddenly, the metallic creak of a door sounded from across the room. Light from the main factory floor flooded inside, compelling Diane to duck behind her own barrels near the back of the room. Two fat foxes entered, hoisting a few barrels onto a long flat cart before wheeling them out. The vixen blew a sigh of relief. Waiting a few minutes in case anyone else would enter the room, she perked her ears up at the door, judged it was safe to leave and skulked out onto the factory floor.
Diane quickly crept out of sight behind the factory machinery, watching the foxes toil away at their work. A conveyor belt pushed out neatly packaged pies while foxes sorted them into opened crates. Others poured ingredients into the machines and managed their stations, ensuring everything ran well. At the other end of the building were five vats stretching two stories tall, each individually labeled chocolate cream, coconut cream, banana cream, pumpkin custard and peanut butter cream. Standing over the vats on some scaffolding were foxes pouring in barrels of Formula F into each one, with a crane hoisting another barrel up to them.
Diane photographed everything with a miniature camera, walking along from one end of the factory to the other. Having the evidence she needed to shut down the operation, she looked for an escape route. She made her way back to the door she came from, but stopped halfway, taking notice of a group of foxes directly in front of her. She hid behind a stack of boxes containing ingredients, peeking through the cracks with great intrigue.
The four foxes, along with every other rotund worker in the building, were a lot fatter up close than she originally thought. Though they weren’t as large as her, their waistlines certainly tripled Wolf’s in size. Each of them chatted while eating what she assumed were non Formula F pies, judging by their lack of voracity. She enviously watched as they stuffed large globs of pie in their mouths, whipped cream streaking across their lips. Their corpulent physiques triggered a hedonistic urge in her head she had unintentionally repressed for months now. As she thought about gobbling the pies in this factory, it was difficult not to imagine gobbling up the fox workers along with them. But she knew she had to take her evidence to the police. Afterwards, she could treat herself to some non spiked pastries.
*Groooooooan*
Diane froze as the four foxes immediately stared back at her, alerted by her grumbling stomach.
“Who is that,” said one of the foxes, “whose back there?”
The vixen dashed as quickly as her chunky legs could carry her, panting like a hippo five minutes into a jog. The four foxes alerted the whole factory to her presence, with everyone dropping what they were doing to catch her. She reached the door she came from, but unfortunately ran into two foxes wheeling out a few more barrels. A few foxes were knocked to the ground as she fought back, until the rest dog piled on top of her, zip tying her wrists behind her back. The collection of their prodigious girth weighed heavily on top of her, too great to push off..
Picking her up, they brought her to the center of the factory floor, dropping her down on her knees. She attempted to catch her breath, looking up to the toothy grin of a gray fox wearing an orange suit.
“Well well, what do we have here,” he removed Diane’s hood, revealing her face, “Governor Diane Foxington? I must say…you’re a lot bigger in person. The name’s Sunny, Sunny Vulpesci. There a reason you’re skulking around all sneaky like in my factory?”
Diane arched her back, feeling sore after being buried under a pile of foxes. “Oh, you know. I just heard about all the buzz surrounding your company and I thought I’d check it out.”
“So you’ve decided to come here instead of one of our bakeries in the city?”
“They’re always so busy. I figured, why wait in line when I could come to the source?”
“Well, I’m flattered that the governor herself wanted to pay us a personal visit. If you had called first I would’ve given you a private tour, set you up with a couple crates of our delicious pies. I heard quite a bit about your…appreciation…for the culinary arts.”
One of the fox workers undid Diane’s belt, handing it to Sunny. “What do we got here,” said the gray fox, fiddling with her gadgets. “Brought a couple of toys. What’s this, lipstick? Heh, typical. This little thing a camera? Get any good pics today? And what about this, what’s in here?”
He held onto Diane’s analyzer, popping it open and spilling out the liquid onto the floor.
“Oooo, I know what that is. *Tsk-tsk-tsk*. Didn’t your mother ever tell you it was wrong to steal?”
Diane smirked. “Only if I got caught. Didn’t yours ever tell you not to poison food?”
“Poison? Ms. Foxington, I’m hurt. The only customers who have ever gotten sick eating my pies, are the ones who can’t resist stuffing their fat faces and refuse to pass out. Pastries are the ultimate vessels of indulgence; no nutrition, all pleasure. Everyone who buys cake and ice cream and the like, all do it to appease that little gluttonous devil that sits on their shoulder, whispering in their ear. They’re all bound to get as fat as you one day, and my Formula F will speed up the process. And with that inevitability, why share the profits with every other dessert company out there, when I could have the bulk of it?”
Diane couldn’t help but giggle. “Besides a wolf I’ve met a couple months ago, I guarantee you, nobody will be getting as fat as me. But you’re right. On an even playing field, those other dessert companies would blow you out of the water.”
Sunny furrowed his brow. “Excuse me?”
“I mean, let’s face it. The only reason your company is relevant is because you drug your customers into liking your pies. I’ve seen frozen pies at grocery stores that look more appetizing than what you make here. Without Formula F, your company would be a joke.”
“Oh, you think so huh?” The gray fox wore a devilish grin. “Have you ever tried any of our pies, Ms. Foxington? The peanut butter cream in particular is my own grandma Vulpesci’s special recipe. Tell you what, you already came here wearing your own swimsuit, so how about we take you for a little dip?”
He gestured above his head, getting a metal hook attached to a crane to lower down. The fox workers wrapped the hook under the zip ties holding together Diane’s arms, hoisting the heavy vixen off the ground and dangling in the air. She painfully winced at the full weight of her body pulling on her wrists. She tried not to wiggle too much, but the pain was impossible to ignore.
She struggled as she was lifted frightfully high into the air. Even if she managed somehow to wretch herself free, she’d make a deadly drop down to the concrete floor. The crane then moved her over to the last vat in the row, where a fat fox waited for her on the scaffold near the edge of the vat’s opening. She looked down at the thick pool of peanut butter cream beneath her, wishing she’d observe such a tasty sight under different circumstances. With a nod from Sunny, the fox cut through Diane’s zip ties, dropping her inside. The creamy mixture pulled her down like quicksand the more she struggled. Desperately trying to swim over to a nearby ladder, the creamy abyss swallowed her body, only allowing her to take one final breath before becoming fully submerged.
The fox worker confirmed her demise and gave Sunny the thumbs up. “That takes care of that,” said the gray fox, “alright you bums back to work.”
“Uh…boss?”
“What? What is it now?”
“The…the gauge…it’s…going down.”
“Going down? The heck are you…”
Every fox on the floor looked with uneasiness at the vat’s fill gauge gradually decreasing. The fox on the scaffolding climbed down in fear as the vat’s contents dropped a foot every few seconds. Perplexed chatter broke out among the workers until an odd noise reverberated from within the vat. A husky-sloppy gulp followed each time the peanut butter cream decreased in volume, growing louder, and with a hint of muffled pleasure at the end. After a tense few minutes, the vat began to violently shake. Gaining enough momentum, it tipped forward just enough to fall over. Peanut butter cream spilled onto the floor; crawling out of the vat, a creamy tan colored mound of ooze grunted while smacking its lips.
“*Ooof*. I should, *mmff*, thank you all. I’ve almost, *huff*, forgotten…just how…amazing it felt, *slurp*, being so fat.”
As the blob stood itself upright, it licked itself clean of what cream it could reach and shook off the rest. Patches of orange fur revealed themselves along with the tattered remains of a black jumpsuit, which now fit more like overly tight shorts and a crop top. Diane’s smug grin stabbed at every worker fox’s confidence, along with her intimidating new size dwarfing them all. The majority of the vat’s contents churned within her titanic belly which plopped onto the floor, as well as swelling her limbs well beyond the size of their own waistlines.
The vixen lapped up a glob of peanut butter cream in one paw while using the other to grope and shake her meaty love handles. “*Mmm*, oh yeah, it’s all coming back to me, *orp*, now. I always enjoyed that I was, *hnnf*, a bigger fox. But this feeling, *huff*, of being…such a mountain of lard and blubber…I hadn’t felt in sooo long. *Ooogh*, I…love it.”
Sunny took a few steps back; her covetous emerald gaze caused the fur on the back of his neck to stand on end. “B-but, how did you-you actually ate an entire vat of that stuff?”
“Most of it anyway. This stomach’s more than capable of packing away just a single vat.” The vixen clutched her gut with a paw, giving it a playful wobble. “And the funny thing is, I didn’t need your Formula F to do it.”
“Heh, well I’ll be damned.” The gray fox couldn’t help but smirk back. “Guess the stories about you making a whale out of yourself from overeating weren’t exaggerated.”
“Believe me, Vulpesci. You don’t know the half of it.”
“Not that it matters anyway. Just look at you; I could barely see your footpaws under all that fat and your arms are so big, I doubt you could still bend them. Alright boys, tie her up, roll her into a trailer, drive her down to the beach and send her back in the ocean where she belongs.”
The several dozen fat foxes surrounding Diane had gathered up their courage, closing in on her, a few of them brandishing heavy rolls of tape and rope. As they stood a tail’s length away from her, her belly fiercely rumbled like a cornered lion, freezing them where they were.
“You know Sunny,” spoke Diane, “you really hit the nail on the head comparing me to a whale. Not because of the obvious comparison in size, no. It’s that both of us prefer to swallow our food whole.”
Lurching over with surprising speed, Diane lifted two foxes by the front of their aprons in each paw. Opening her maw wide, she stuffed the two of them in at once, letting out muffled grunts of pleasure as their shoulders reached the back of her mouth. Their hefty figures formed two round bulges in her throat. She pushed them the rest of the way in with both paws, slurping up their tails. The bulges slithered past her gullet, down her chest and swelled her stomach outward with a sickening squelch. Letting out a content belch, she savored it as she licked her lips.
“*Mmmff*, yes,” Diane cooed, “there’s nothing quite like eating, *orp*, other animals whole. Don’t worry, Sunny. It might be dark and cramped inside my belly, but you’ll have plenty of others to keep you company before long.”
Diane lumbered her way over to the gray fox, belly glorping with each wide stride she took. The gray fox was startled by how quickly she managed to close the gap between them; even while carrying a belly capable of flattening a car, her increased height allowed her to take longer steps. She grabbed two more nearby foxes and ate them one by one before rolling herself forward, just an arms length away from grabbing Sunny. She reached out with her pudgy digits, mouth wide open and ready to receive its scrawny meal.
Suddenly, the gray fox grabbed at two other foxes behind him, pushing them head first into Diane’s maw. Shocked to receive them, she was further surprised as he pushed them further in, widening her mouth. She tried reaching around them to grab Sunny, but their hefty waistlines simply squished against her chunky arms. Foxes immediately surrounded her, some trying to pull their colleagues out of her mouth and others attempting to restrain her while she was lying on her stomach. She watched as Sunny rushed over to the controls sealing the factory garage doors, her belly rumbling with dissatisfaction at the meal that got away.
“You almost had me, Diane!” Sunny shouted back at her with a sly grin. “We’ll see each other again, that’s a guarantee!”
Pushing the button to close the loading bay doors, Sunny smashed up the console and slinked his way out. By the time the other foxes realized what he’d done, the garage doors were completely shut. Swallowing a string of foxes holding onto one another, Diane stood herself up, quickly waddling over toward the formula F barrel room to block their exit. With nowhere else to go, the remaining foxes were cooped up in the factory floor like sheep in a pen; and Diane was the wolf.
Tried as they might to outrun her, for every few steps the foxes took, Diane needed to take one to catch up. Leaninging forward, she’d sweep up multiple foxes at a time, shoving them into her gullet. Those who futilely ran tired out quickly, and those who attempted to hide were too large to conceal themselves completely. She smiled with delight at the veritable buffet of gulping down her own kind, each fox filling her gullet like a plump hog worthy of winning first prize at the fair. Huffing and biting her lip, she murmured with pleasure at the long overdue joy of feeling multiple beasts squirming within the confines of her stomach.
Gobbling up foxes three to five at a time, Diane’s enamored lust for gluttony and fattening was now fully aroused. The remains of her jumpsuit around her hips and chest clinged to her body for dear life; even with their stretched enhancements, her swelling chest and rear challenged their elasticity. She continued to grow in height, giving her titanic blob of a belly more room to spill outward, undulating with her writhing prey.
Enjoying a smorgasbord of fifty fat foxes, the blubbery vixen was down to her final five. Herding them into a corner, her lard filled wall of a body bared any avenue of escape. She rolled herself forward, scooping them up in her arms and squishing them against her malleable chest. “Al-*bwooorp*-right, listen up. There’s still, *oooouuurp*, so much more, *hic*, for a gal like me to eat here, so do what I say, *urp*, and I might just be stuffed enough to let some of you go.”
Waddling over to the four remaining vats of pie filling, she released four of the foxes in her arms. With some small ray of hope not to become a meal, they followed her demands. Each fox attached an individual hose to each vat, placing the ends in their mouths and zip tying them shut. Once Diane made sure the hoses wouldn’t slip out of their mouths, she showed a toothy grin, eyes glinting with anticipation.
“Okay boys, here’s the, *bworp*, deal. When I say go, open the valves, and whoever can finish their vat first without passing out, wins. To your positions.” The foxes did as they were bid, paws touching their valves as they looked to each other nervously. “And…go.”
Like a gunshot starting a race, a jet of pie cream and custard shot through their hoses, immediately gushing down each fox’s throat. Diane watched with flustering delight as their midsections ballooned by the second. Licking her chops, her blubbery body quivered, excited by how fat they’d be once the vats were empty.
Leaving them to their glutting, she waddled over to the machine managing the conveyor belt, setting her final fox down in front of the controls. “You, my friend, will configure the conveyor belt to my liking. No boxes or pie tins. I want nothing but the pies themselves going down that line, understand?”
“Y-y-yes miss.”
“Oh, and have the machine crank them out as quickly as possible. I hate to be kept waiting.”
“Y-you sure? If you d-don’t eat them q-quick enough, it’ll clog the s-s-system.”
Diane lifted up half of her amorphous belly, sloshing it about in her paws. “I just got through gobbling up all your buddies. You think I can’t handle some measly pies?”
The fox gulped, shaking in his fur at the muffled voices of the other foxes still writhing around in her gut. A din of whirring sounds and spinning turbines erupted from the pie making machine, causing the vixen’s excitement to swell. She released her belly, tongue slipping out of her mouth as the conveyor belt began to move.
“Is it done,” she asked, “everything set to the highest setting?”
The fox nodded his head. “It m-may take a few minutes for it to reach the maximum output, b-but…yes. It’s as high as it can go.”
“Thank you,” Diane smacked her lips, “this’ll be a great way to pass the time.”
Picking up the fox, she popped him in her mouth, effortlessly swallowing him before waddling over to the end of the conveyor belt. She rolled onto her bed of a belly, getting just low enough so that her mouth was in the proper position. Drool trickled down her lips as the pies started coming down the line like marchers in a band. Each were unpackaged just as she had asked, comprising of only the graham cracker crust, one of the five pie fillings and a generous amount of whipped cream to top it off.
The first pie to grace her mouth she caught as it shot off the line. It immediately crumbled apart in her powerful gullet, going down with ease like a bite sized candy. There was a one second gap between pies to start, growing incrementally faster with every fifteen or so seconds that passed. Needing only her mouth to eat, she groped at her doughy flesh with both paws; even at max settings, the pace of the machine was so slow for her gluttony, she felt the need to entertain herself in other ways while she ate.
At first she wondered if perhaps the fox might have lied to her about the settings; but after a few minutes, things started to pick up. The one second gap shrunk down to half a second, forcing her to swallow each pie faster. She drew herself a bit closer to the conveyor belt, relying on it to shoot pies further down her gullet to make swallowing them quicker and easier. An alarm blared from the pie machine three times, spinning the turbines and whirring cogs even faster. At once, Diane was worried that perhaps the machine might explode. Looking back down the line, she smiled from ear to ear, gleeful at the machine now pumping out two pies at a time.
As the pie output increased, Diane fervently enjoyed herself like a bear under a waterfall of honey. The alarm blared once more, announcing the production of three pies at a time. The gap between pies likewise closed, forcing her to take her paws off her belly and help push the pies down, keeping them from clogging up just shy of her throat. Her flourishing corpulence continued to thrive thanks to the calorie dense stream of pastries. The remnants of her jumpsuit stretched to their absolute limits, tearing into tatters and exposing a mass of wobbling fur. The fox murmured with intense pleasure, thrilled by the feeling of her burgeoning chest and rear no longer being confined.
Diane’s belly continued to pool all around her, squishing against her chunky arms and gradually raising her off the ground. Her increased height helped her to keep her footpaws planted down, but as her thighs grew more voluptuous, folding over her calves and swallowing her knees, it slowly began lifting them up. The thick rolls on her back folded over one another, smothering her roll of neck fat squishing the back of her head. Her maw was barely visible between her beach ball sized cheeks and multiple chins. Thankfully, her puffed up face didn’t stop her ability to wolf down whatever entered into it.
Several minutes passed before the machine reached its maximum performance, alarm blaring at a constant rate. The factory was a cacophony of overworked turbines and gears, steam bursting through the pipes and screws ricocheting off metal like bullets. What came out of the conveyor belt was no longer pie related, but a monstrous heap of sugary sludge—an amalgamation of different ingredients molded into a slug-like wad of cream and breading. It didn’t matter to Diane. Valiantly, she kept her throat open, receiving the entire train of food as it stretched out her gullet. Her eyes fluttered with ecstasy, the corners of her mouth breaking into a sloppy grin. The pleasure of swallowing a constant stream of malformed pies, forming a debri filled ocean within her sloshing belly, rivaled her love of gulping down enormous prey. The joy of it left her feeling so drunk with gluttony, she had partially forgotten where she was, and her original goal for being here. All she wished for herself was that this blissful moment of hedonism would never stop.
Eventually, the turbines and gears grinded to a halt, the alarm shut off and a cloud of steam erupted like a volcano, as the machines attempted to cool down. With the train of pie sludge no longer entering her mouth, Diane meekly moaned over a symphony of bubbling and burbling. Her paws rested at her sides; her lush arm fat completely enveloped her elbows and wrists. Attempting to arch her back, the weight of her colossal butt helped her footpaws touch the floor once more. She arched herself further, trying to stand herself as upright as she could, contending with stacks of back rolls resembling descending layers of cake. Letting out a gaseous belch, she peeked downward, marveling through half shut eyes at the veritable blob of a vixen she had worked to become.
“My, *hic-hilp*, goodness,” she said with a husky tone, like that of someone after a drunken stupor. “Have I ever, *hic-hilp*, been this fat before?”
Diane raised her arms to rub at her eyes as if to wake from a dream; she only managed to touch her tubby index digits to her eyelids, feeling her pillowy arms smothering her flabby face. She heaved a flustered sigh, her cheeks flushing a bright crimson at the sight of her monumentally lard filled body. She slammed her paws atop of her blob of a belly, biting her lip as it sloshed and glorped with enough cream and custard to fill multiple tanker trucks. Its fattening contents endowed her with curvy love handles the size of trash truck containers, and a colossal rear capable of demolishing a small house. It was fortunately so large that she was still somewhat capable of squeezing the top of it with her paws, murmuring as they sunk into its malleable fur, swallowing part of her forearms.
“*Mmmff*, oh yes! *Huff*, I remember being this fat, *hic-hilp*, now. Before I gobbled up the big bad wolf, *ooogh*. So much lard, *hic-hilp*, and blubber. *Hnng*, feels so, *buuuraaap*, *guh*, incredible…”
As the vixen continued to smack and jiggle her lard laden flesh, she grew increasingly more hot and bothered. Droplets of sweat trickled from her brow and steamy breaths snorted from her nostrils like a bull. The undulating motions of her belly bobbed her lush chest up and down. Her eyes squinted as her flabby cheeks squished her face thanks to her prodigious neck fat pressing them together like a sandwich. Her bouncing rear slammed heavily against her chunky thighs, shaking them along with her hips like gelatin.
Diane heaved hot air heavily through an open mouth, tongue slinking out as she huffed and puffed with a crooked grin. “I…love, *hic-hilp*, being…a, *wheeze*, blob, *hic*!”
Lifting as much of her belly as she could, she wobbled it for a brief moment before letting go and collapsing on top of it. Catching her breath, she rested her head atop of her neck flab perched atop of her chest. From the corner of her dazed eye, she saw the blurry images of four massive orbs lined up side by side. Through the racket of her hiccups, burps and burbling gut, she heard muffled moaning; a wailing with the same gluttonous exhaustion she experienced after feeling too full to move an inch.
She blinked and squinted her eyes, drooling at the orange and white mammoth sized bodies of the last four fox workers. Glacially, she waddled her way over. Each gauge on all four vats read completely empty, and it showed in a mouthwatering way. Their bellies alone were the size of half an R.V., blorping from their muffled hiccups. Walking up to one, Diane’s own gut enveloped half of it like a small snake half way through eating an ostrich egg. She caressed her paws across its white furred surface, tantalized by its girth.
“Can’t believe…I almost, *hic-hilp*, forgot about…you boys. Looks like all four of you, *hic-hilp*, tied in the contest. Unfortunately, *hic-hilp*, I am the only winner here, hehehe-*hilp*.”
Diane leaned over the first fox, enveloping him with her own blubber in order to undo the zip tie around his mouth. Removing the hose, she opened her gaping maw, stuffing his head down her gullet with ease. Her superior gut helped to lift him off the ground as she arched herself back, propping him onto her chest as she guided him down her throat. His heft was nothing to scoff at, however; the weight of his own churning stomach caused her own jello-like belly to mold itself under him.
Swallowing her gigantic prey was every bit as euphoric as she hoped it’d be. As much as her throat expanded from eating five foxes at a time or gulping down the conveyor belt of pie refuse, it hardly compared to the rush of pleasure she felt from wolfing down massive prey. Her jaw had stretched to its maximum capacity; the cushiony blubber filled up every gap and crevice, from the roof of her mouth to the miniscule corners of her teeth. The bulge of her throat swelled to the point it pressed against her multiple chins and cheeks, sitting on her chest like a new addition of neck blubber.
Diane arduously tilted her head upward, recruiting the aid of gravity to help her swallow; her arms grew too fat to help push her prey down due to her bulging neck. Halfway through her meal, she felt the fox’s girth building up in her chest, pushing it further outward. Finally slurping up his tail, she gave one final gulp, groaning from the labor. Her belly violently surged outward as the fox entered like a wrecking ball, creating a thunderous series of sloshes that reverberated off the factory walls.
“*Hoooouuuurp*, *HILP*, oooh, so good,” Diane sloppily grinned, “*hmmmfff*, feeling, *HIC-HILP*, so…full. *Hnnng*, need to…keep eating…*ooooorp*.”
The vixen waddled over to the next fox, feeling the significant increase in weight with every strenuous step. As burdensome as her gelatinous mass of a belly was to push against, her height and hulking legs did just the minimum to allow her to move forward.
She gobbled up the remaining foxes one by one, growing slower with each new addition. By the time she reached the final fox, her belly formed enough of a wall of blubber to force her to lean over it. Her lard pooled at her side as her fat enveloped footpaws pushed her forward by the tips of her digits. She gulped down her final meal relying only on her throat muscles. He entered her belly, and with its final surge in size, her footpaws were completely lifted off the ground.
The colossal blob of a vixen pulled herself along, moaning her way over to the factory garage door. With Sunny destroying the controls and nobody around to help open it, she leaned the weight of her body against it, pushing until the metal and concrete gave way as she bursted through. Her body spilled out in an avalanche of sloshing orange lard, cooled by an eastern breeze on this tranquil night. She ate any and all leftover packaged pies yet to be loaded onto the truck trailers; then, leaning her upper body onto a trailer, she rested, head submerging into her neck rolls.
“*HILP*, what a night,” Diane sighed with contentment, the weight of her body flattening the trailer into a curve. “Such delectable, *ooouurp*, gorging…can’t believe I haven’t, *HIC-HILP*, passed out yet.”
Attempting to roll herself over, she barely managed to roll onto her side. Cooing with bliss, her tubby paws wobbled her meaty waist. Her luscious hips towered over her at her current position, allowing her to admire the lardaceous glory of her building of an ass with each pat. “*Unnnf*, I’m such a, *HILP*, lard ball. No, *HUFF*, a lard mountain. *Oooh*, how can…one fox, *HILP*, amass…so much blubber?”
Rolling herself the rest of the way, her broad back nestled itself within the crushed trailer. The monolith of fat that was her belly undulated in every which direction; her ocean of gluttony roiling against the walls of her stomach. The weight of it crushed her innards, yet the rich layers of lard that rubbed against them gave her a most exquisite inner belly massage. She moaned into the night air; her stomach’s erratic churning giving her such a rush of stimulation that she fought to remain conscious.
“*Mmm*, wonderful,” she heaved a content sigh. “Didn’t think, *hic-hilp*, I’d be doing this…so soon. Wasn’t even planning to glut today, but I’m so glad, *hic-hilp*, I did. All thanks to Mr. Snake…and, *hic-hilp*, Sunny…”
Engulfed in her world of hedonistic pleasure, she had almost forgotten about the very fox who owned the factory she ate at. It ruffled her head fur knowing he was the one morsel who got away. But then she thought, maybe it was for the best. Although Foxy Delights will soon have its downfall, perhaps he’d create other businesses bent on fattening up citizens? Even in her obscenely full state, the thought of raiding other villain owned food factories made her stomach burble.
“I’ll allow him to feed me, *hic-hilp*, for now,” she gave her gut and chest a series of pats. “If he wants to make others fatter, *hic-hilp*, I’ll happily blob up even more. After all, *hic-hilp*, I could always eat him later.”
Looking up to the crescent moon, Diane daydreamed of potential feasts in her future. She continued to gently fondle and jiggle her blubbery body, murmuring with bliss while standing on the fulcrum between pleasuring herself just enough not to pass out. Giggling into the night, her sloshing gut serenaded her with its bubbling-churning song. With the weight of her feast sitting heavily in her stomach, she hoped when she eventually closed her eyes, it wouldn’t be for another three months before she’s able to gorge again.
