Dragon Maid: Elma Cures Her Burnout (Patreon)

It's here! I hope you all enjoy this. It was a lot of fun to write. Might be one of my more exhaustive stories. Since it is quite long, I've attached the file below for better viewability! 

--- Dreary Dragoness ---

Kobayashi’s apartment was filled with noise typical of a saturday afternoon. Tohru busied herself in the kitchen, working on fixing a meal up for the group whilst also finding every excuse to compliment her master. Lucoa sat at the kitchen table, blissfully humming to herself as her enormous breasts bounced up and down. Kana worked on schoolwork, occasionally making comments to the older women. The only one who hadn’t said much was Elma. She sat at the end of the table opposite Lucoa, quietly nursing a little cup of tea. She was dressed much more casually than usual. Instead of a nice shirt and jeans, Elma had stuffed herself into a ratty sweatshirt and old leggings. Her hair, cropped short with purple tips on a canvas of black, seemed disheveled and unbrushed. These differences were small and seemingly insignificant, easily missed. It could easily be that Kobayashi was imagining things or that Elma was a little under the weather. All the same, Kobayashi felt a little tug at her heart. She reached her hand out, tapping the other woman on the wrist.

“Elma, you haven’t said much tonight.” Kobayashi said, meeting Elma’s vividly blue eyes. “How are things at the office going?” She asked, despite the two working together.

“Oh, uuh, they’re fine.” Elma said, looking down at her drink. She started to mumble something, but instead took a drink. Her sip lasted longer than a normal one should, as if she was stalling for time and hoping Kobayashi would lose interest. The tactic might have worked, had there not been a finite amount of liquid in the cup. Eventually running dry, Elma set her cup down and was forced to respond to Kobayahsi. “Well, I guess things are just. . .a little samey.” Elma sighed, still avoiding eye contact with Kobayashi. She traced a line around her cup, delicately guiding her pointer finger around the perimeter of the porcelain vessel. It was painted a bright green, like a field of grass. Elma sighed again looking at the cup, dreaming of being a field very far away.

“I understand.” Kobayashi responded, having been given a keener insight into Elma’s mental state. “Office jobs can be hard. There’s a lot of tedium.” Elma’s head picked up a little as Kobayashi spoke, a bridge of empathy having been established. “Always doing the same thing every day can get tiring. People don’t often talk about the pressure of-”

“Oh how could any day spent with you be a problem, Kobayashi!” Tohru said, spinning in from the kitchen. She skipped and twirled, the twin tails of blonde hair sprouting from the side of her head curling around her body. Kobayashi's neck and back soon rested on a pillow of cleavage, while her own flat chest was cradled by Tohru’s arms. “I’d spend all day fetching you coffee and snacks!” Kobyashi’s maid continued to gush, lavishing praises and promises of servitude. While that was happening, Elma’s head began to droop once more, it was close to resting on the table itself.

“Tohru! Not right now!” Kobyashi rebuked her servant and roommate. “Elma needs some support from us.” Her peach colored hair swished back and forth as she tried to stuff her maid into the seat next to her. Her hands sunk into Tohru’s soft cleavage and tender hips. While pleasing to her tactile sense and to a deeply buried romantic side, Kobayashi was not going to lose sight of her actual goal. “You talking about how amazing it would be is not going to help!” Kobayashi slowly pried Tohru’s iron grip away, managing to dodge other grappling and fondling attempts. While inordinately loving, Tohru often only had eyes for her mistress. However, the commotion finally drew Lucoa out of her airheaded daydreams. The blonde stopped her humming and assessed what was being said.

“Oh, Elma, are you not feeling well?” Lucoa said, speaking through a smile so big and warm that her eyes remained closed. She leaned forward a bit, titanic breasts flopping onto the table. Lucoa’s sunny disposition often came with a motherly bend, supplying a sort of care that was missing from the other dragon women which had taken root in Japan. She was older, more able to look beyond her own concerns. “What about the office has you down?” She spoke, head dodging around Kobyashi and Tohru’s struggle.

“I. . .well. . .it’s nothing.” Elma said, hating the attention placed on her. She very much wanted to disappear. It was fine when she was blending into the background of the conversation. She peeped up, seeing both Lucoa and Kobayashi waiting patiently, ready to help their friend with her confession. However, not everyone could be so patient.

“Come on, Elma! Just tell us already!” Tohru, still upset about being denied her chance to lavish praises on Kobayashi, slammed her hands down on the table. She leaned forward, ranting with little flames popping out of her mouth and her large tail swinging back and forth. “You are bringing the whole party mood down! And Kobayashi isn’t your therapist. She deserves to have a nice night, where she gets to tell us all the work wisdom she’s learned!” Tohru continued to fume, smoke pooling above her head. Her claws gripped the table as she seethed. Through it all Elma sat very still, her face bereft of expression and eyes pointed at her little green tea cup. Tohru’s verbal assault continued until Elma finally bowed her head, the edges of her bangs touching the wooden table.

“I’m terribly sorry. You’re right, Tohru, I should probably just go home.” Elma whispered. Little sprinkles of water appeared on the table underneath her face as she spoke. When she stood, her eyes were moist. “I didn’t mean to upset anybody.” She sighed, turning and starting to walk away. The other attendees were caught in a state of shock. Kobayashi shot Tohru a daggered glance, causing the frustrated dragoness to go pale and start to sit down. Elma continued to trudge away, shoulders pushed forward as if she bore the weight of the world on them. Lucoa’s smile inverted, though her eyes remained closed. She started towards her friend shortly thereafter, breasts bobbing up and down.

“Waaaait, Elma!” Lucoa’s voice was full of concern, even if it’s tone was dreamy and far away. “Don’t go, Tohru didn’t mean it.” While the circumstances around her running were not at all comical, the way Lucoa ran with her arms crooked and the heavy bounce of her chest made it all seem like an act. She brushed past Tohru and Kobayashi, her breasts accidentally knocking the flat chested office worker in the back of her head. Kobayashi went down with a strangled noise, unable to stand up to the pumpkin breasts that Lucoa wielded carelessly. “Besides, Kobayashi and I want you to stay.” Lucoa’s breasts were much softer as they closed around Elma’s back. The soft, pumpkin sized breasts cushioned Elma as the older dragon hugged her. Unlike Tohru’s manic, crushing hugs, Lucoa’s were soft and warm. It was like being embraced by a gentle sun. Whether magic or simply Lucoa’s innate demeanor, a soothing calmness radiated into Elma. She stopped, unable to pull herself away from the love being shown to her. Lucoa’s face rested on her shoulder, as pleasant and enlightened as a statue of Buddha. “Let’s go sit down again and talk.” She hummed. Elma could not refuse.

---

“Yes, that certainly sounds like burnout.” Kobayashi said, giving her prognosis after Elma explained what had been bothering her. Drawing on her own wealth of experience as a coder and office worker, Kobayashi tried to help her friend. “It happens from time to time, especially if you have been working long hours without rest.” She sighed, leaning forward and putting her hand on Elma’s. Lucoa was still standing behind the blue dragon, her breasts both comforting and keeping her from leaving. Elma wore the massive mammaries well; they were so big that they could double as a hat and neck brace.

“But. . .but. . .what do I do to cure it?” Elma asked, taking the diagnosis as seriously as a heart attack. “How long is this going to last?” Her eyes grew wet again, thinking about being unable to enjoy her job. Unlike many, Elma had a sincere appreciation for her work and company. Like many dragons with a bend towards and Order alignment, Elma approached everything with sincerity and openness.

“Hard to say.” Kobayashi sighed. “For small cases a night out drinking can fix it.” Kobayashi blushed, reminded of her own sordid history with alcohol. “But it sounds like you have it bad, you might need a weekend vacation.”

“Vacation! Oh, great suggestion Kobayashi, I can start planning ours immediately.” Tohru tried to cut in, quitting her silent fuming. She was stopped by her master’s knuckle lightly tapping her forehead.

“For Elma, lunkhead.” Kobayashi was a little curt, still annoyed by Tohru’s earlier faux pas. “She needs to get out of her apartment. Maybe even out of the city.” Feeling very wise and knowledgeable, she leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. Kobayashi nodded sagely as she spoke, “I mean, as a dragon, you could probably go anywhere you wanted. Even America.”

Elma, for the first time that night, perked up a little at the thought. The look Elma gave Kobayashi only grew the other woman’s ego more. Her eyes were filled with questions and admiration.  “What’s in America?”

Kobayashi, not wanting to lose the respect she had garnered with Elma, blurted out the first thing she could think of. “Well, there's. . .uh. . .Las Vegas!” Thus, Elma’s trip was picked and planned.

--- Finding Purpose ---

Lucoa, Tohru, and a sulky Elma landed in a little alley within the Las Vegas strip. It had been a strange and amazing flight. The trio had stretched their wings over the dry Nevada desert, rising high on the dusty swells of heat. By the time they had arrived the sun had set and they saw the city as a simple beam of light rising out of an otherwise empty and barren landscape. Lucoa and Tohru had “oohed” and “aawwed” at the sights, breath stolen as they looked down on the various casinos, restaurants, and shops. While Tokyo had its share of sights, the dragons had truly never seen anything quite like the American Spectacle. It seemed as if they could land in the middle of the street, in dragon form, and nothing would have been out of place. Luckily, the words and warnings of Kobayashi still hung in their ears as they descended. They were to cheer up Elma by any means necessary, but keep a low profile as they did it. From the outset, it seemed like the difficulty would lie in cheering up Elma.

“Isn’t this amazing!” Tohru said, eyes sparkling as she took in the sights. She wore a pink sweater and skirt very similar to the ones she had worn when she first started living with Kobayashi. It was near physical agony to remove her traditional maid outfit, but certain sacrifices were required for the sake of camouflage. She skipped down the street, breasts bouncing up and down and her skirt exposing just the hint of supple buttocks. “It’s so bright! And there are so many people!” She turned back to her companions, who were making their way out into the street. Lucoa came next, wearing her normal outfit. In truth, with her short shorts and blonde hair, she looked the most American out of all of them. Elma brought up the rear, her mood having improved little on the way over.

“It’s. . .uh. . .nice.” Elma said, looking up at the skyline. While she wore a shirt with a calm, happy shade of blue, her mood remained dark. While the burnout dragon tried to be positive, knowing the effort her friends were going to on her behalf. All the same, her heart still felt damaged. It seemed like the little weekend trip would be over soon and she would be back struggling to get through a day. Her head slumped down, finding cracks and wads of gum on the pavement to obsess over instead. “It’s a little busy though.” She mumbled, wanting to be difficult more than she wanted to cheer up.

“Come on! Are you just going to comp-” Tohru started to fume again, but was cut off as Lucoa’s strong hands clamped around her mouth.

“That’s just the flight over here talking.” Lucoa ignored Tohru’s attempts to break free and addressed Elma. “All you need to do is find something that looks fun.” The dreamy dragon spoke lazily, her voice pitched to soothe and warm the hearts of all those around her. “Come on, let’s at least go a little further before giving up.” Acting as a mother in place of Kobayashi, Lucoa let Tohru go and led the group down the strip. She walked with a confident but cheery stride, hands out beside her hips. Lucoa’s ability to switch from caregiver to bimbo was nothing short of astounding. Tohru and Elma followed behind, their eyes as much on Lucoa’s pert buttocks as it was the man made wonders around them.

Grinning mascots of casinos loomed over the trio, rising high into the night whilst strange and colorful tourists passed by on either side. Lucoa and Tohru gasped as they passed by each gambling hall. It was an entire city that had been created to praise the gods of gold, greed, and fortune. Lucoa would throw out suggestions, nearly begging and pleading with Elma to detour into one of the opulent betting houses. Each time, however, Elma would shake her head and mumble an excuse. The girls would then move on, Tohru’s anger building towards another outburst. The pattern continued over and over. While the city was a circus to be entertained by, Elma had delved too deep into her own self pity. It seemed that nothing would interest her. . .until her delicate nose picked up a smell. For the first time in weeks, she picked her head up and looked around.

“What’s that. . .” Elma looked quizzically, her stomach piqued by a mixture of different smells and tastes. She could see nothing besides the blinding lights and press of the crowd. However, the scent continued to call to her. “That smells so. . .” Without saying more to her friends, Elma started to wander through the streets. With each step and tiny sniff she honed in on what interested her. She could detect the smells of grilling meat, friend potatoes, and ice cream of many flavors. They sang to her, massaging her olfactory senses and making her mouth water. She jogged after the smells, afraid they might melt away before she reached them. Elma pushed her way through the crowd, coming to stand before a large building. Grease, fat, and meat smells were in the air, emanating from the building. Elma stood before what looked like a temple dedicated to obesity and unhealthiness. A bright, neon red sign burned down at her from on high. Elma read each word slowly, transfixed by what she was seeing. “Heart. . .Attack. . .Grill.” She licked her lips, eyes drifting down to the lower portion. “Over. . .350 lbs. . .Eats. . .Free.” Her eyes widened, filled with the realization of where and how she wanted to spend her time.

“Elma!” Tohru called, running up. “Don’t run away like that! Are you trying to cause problems?” Her temper boiled over just as Lucoa showed up behind her.

“Elma?” The blonde dragon asked, realizing that her gloomy friend seemed a little less gloomy. “Did you find something?”

Elma turned, her eyes sparkling for the first time in weeks. She now knew what had been bothering her. Her constant working and slaving away had slowed her eating. Elma had gone without indulgence, instead sucked into a stream of constant work. However, here at this fabled place of gluttony and girth, she would change that. “Tohru. . .Lucoa. . .I want a free meal.” Elma addressed her friends, pointing to the beaming proclamation behind her. “I’m gonna get in there for it.” While she looked determined, the corners of Elma’s mouth turned up in a smile.

--- A Heavy Meal Ticket ---

Elma ate like it was her last meal. Sitting at a little burger shop across the street from her ultimate prize, she stuffed fried food into her mouth at an unimaginable pace. She held a sandwich in either hand, ketchup running down her fingers. Her hair whipped back and forth as she took increasingly large bites. Elma had unleashed her appetite upon the food, allowing her frustrations to fuel her hunger. This was not her first meal since finding the Heart Attack Grill. Rather, she was on her third wild stuffing session. She ate so wildly and with so little regard for manners that her magical disguise had started to slip. Her teeth had sharpened into little fangs, working to slice through the thick meat patties. Little clawed fingers bit into the soft, sesame seed buns of her prey. Wild animals had more decorum than she did. Below Elma’s ferocious, ravenous mouth and perpetually moving hands rested her abyssal stomach. The formerly soft and flat tummy having taken on a much more pronounced shape. Elma’s gut rolled out in front of her like a boulder. It was heavy, taut, and shined in the light of the dining room. Now finishing her fourth meal, Elma looked nearly nine months pregnant. Her belly protruding into the table. It was a wonder to Lucoa and Tohru that their hungry friend had not burst.

“Elma, are you sure this is a good idea?” Lucoa leaned in from the other side of the table, her eyes threatening to open in amazement. Her breasts formed a little pedestal for her round face to rest on and watch the gorging festival. “We could always just pay for you to get in. Kobayashi gave me her credit card.” Lucoa held up a plastic rectangle with the promise of unlimited credit flow. There was a certain amount of pride in her voice, pleased that Kobayashi had trusted her above even Tohru.

“No!” Elma said quickly before dumping an entire serving of fries into her mouth. “Thiscch. . .mmppggh. .. hasch to. . .mmmggph. .be free!” She ate and talked at the same time, reaching for the uneaten food that rested before the other dragons. Elma pulled the food back to her, not above scavenging in order to get what she wanted. Her mind had been made up. For one night only, she would be a chubby dragon in order to get a free meal. Nowhere in Japan was so accommodating to people of immense appetites. The chance was too good to pass up. “My. . .AAAAHMM. . .only. . .mmmpppggh. . .chanssh!” She swallowed a half eaten burger part of the way through her declaration. Her stomach bulged outwards even more, the table working to create a deep intent in her gut.

Tohru, not above a little scheming, weighed in on the debate. “I think it's fine, Lucoa!” She leaned forward to rub and pat Elma’s head in a decidedly condescending and petlike manner. “Our poor, overworked friend has finally found something to interest her. How could we refuse?” Elma leaned into the impromptu petting, enjoying the feeling of being touched whilst eating. Tohru grinned, her own fangs and lizard-like eyes showing as she reflected on her master plan. Elma would eat herself into a coma and run up massive, successive bills on Kobayashi’s credit card. She then just had to blame Lucoa for being in control of the card, then Kobayahsi would shift her annoyance to the other two, leaving Tohru to bask in praises and attention. The maid had not forgotten the rebuke she had gotten from her master, as well as the attention shown to Elma or the responsibility placed on Lucoa. Tohru was going to find her way back into Kobayashi’s good graces, riding Elma’s appetite to soaring success.

“We. . .urrrrp. . .can find a place you would enjoy, next, Lucoa.” Elma offered, having finished her meal. She started to stand, her belly leading the way as she started to stand. Elma’s gut rose like a pink hot air balloon, seeming to drag the rest of her skinny body along with it. While a natural glutton, Elma was unused to moving with such a puffy belly and needed to put a hand on the side to keep it from sloshing around too much. Her face was determined as she continued to push herself out of the seat, showing the resiliency that had been applied to so many other tasks. The chair squealed as it slid along the floor. Elma pushed it away as she rose, her shirt halfway up her round and voluminous belly. Pale skin gleamed in the light of the diner. While Elma professed verbally that she could eat more, a dire strain had already been put on her body. Sweat droplets had begun to appear, little dots to show how taxed her gut was. “We can. . .shoo. . .find somewhere. . .classy.” Elma said, turning back and giving a wincing smile to her busty friend. “Maybe somewhere that. . .ooooh. . .has a. . .good selection of wine?” She winked, massaging her turgid gut. Without waiting for approval, Elma started to waddle out; belly exposed to the restaurant.

Lucoa bit her lip. She knew that Elma was embarking on a foolish quest. The rewards were minimal and the punishments of failure seemed twice as high. Yet, the temptation of booze was too much to ignore outright. “Elmaaa. . .what if we discussed it for a moment?” Lucoa called, afraid of choosing a side. As an unaligned dragon, the deference to choosing suited her nature. However, it did not suit all dragons present.

“You know, Kobayashi’s main point was to cure her of her burnout.” Tohru slid along side the other woman. “If she doesn’t get that free meal, we’re going to have to go back home and tell Kobayashi that Elma is still sad.” True to her chaotic nature, few tactics were above Tohru. “I don’t want Miss Kobayashi being upset at me, do you?” Lucoa’s face scrunched up as the words slithered into her ear. She wavered on her feet until tohru’s thick, green tail tapped her. “Is there a price too big for saving Elma from burnout?”

“Elmaaaa!” Lucoa cried, running after her friend. Each step seemed slower by the heavy bounce of her breasts. “Waaaaiiitt for us, we have to choose a restaurant.”

---

“Oh! Another bottle?” Lucoa smiled, taking the large wine bottle from the passing waitress. Droplets of water fell from the outside of the bottle and sprinkled onto her enormous bust. Lucoa uncorked the bottle quickly, not afraid to chug the expensive beverage. It mattered little that they had visited a fancy Italian restaurant. Lucoa was going to slip her way deep into the wine bottle, knowing she would find a warm and cuddly feeling at the bottom. The former goddess chugged the wine, looking more like the divine incarnation of alcohol than the Venusian figure she was known to history as. Inebriation came on quickly. Between slurps and tender sucks at the bottle she hiccuped and blushed. She cradled the glass like it was Shouta or a child of her own bearing. “It’s. . .hic. . .schhooooo schweet.” Her smile grew wider and goofier. Concerns over waistlines, bills, and Kobayashi’s wishes were washed away in nectar from an Italian vineyard. Lucoa cared only about her and Elma’s happiness, an easy task considered both were now centered around indulgence. “Elmmmaaaaaaa. . .heee. . .open up! Time to. . .hic. . .drink your caloriesscch.” She poked the bottle into Elma’s chubby cheeks, partially investigating the fat that had begun to form on the hungry dragoness.

Elma didn’t respond at first. She was busy trying to finish dual plates of chicken alfredo. An endless stream of noodles dripping with white sauce wound their way into her mouth. She hung over the table, her belly once again bullying another piece of furniture. However, this time, there was much more of Elma’s gut. Though it had lost none of its central tautness, Elma’s gut had grown decidedly softer. The walk to the new eatery, along with some unconscious use of her innate magic, had jumpstarted Elma’s metabolism. Even as she ate she digested, becoming a continuous circuit of calories and fat. She pushed food in and it came out as beautiful heft upon her body. Her curves were becoming true piles of adipose, burgeoning her weight and roundness. Her stomach held the brunt of it at the moment, her food baby now slumping down onto a pillow’s worth of fat. Her shirt rose up just as the seams along the side were tried and found wanting.  There seemed little chance for the cute long sleeve shirt to survive the night. Elma’s fattening, growing breasts warped the little cat mascot on the front; distorting it to comical proportions.

“Eeeeelllmaaaa. . ..come oooonn. . .” Lucoa sounded hurt by the rejection of the wine. Elma did not even acknowledge the offering, instead slurping her noodles so vigorously that one of the chicken breasts was sucked in. In a stroke of gluttonous mastery, Elma switched from slurping to chomping without losing a second. The tipsy dragon huffed before drinking more. “Fiiineee. . .I’m gonna. . .wheee. . .have it all!” Lucoa’s breasts bounced above a stomach that was rapidly filling with drinks. She was starting to look as puffy as Elma, the two indulgent dragons finding their bodies more than suited for indulgence. Yet, Lucoa couldn’t forget the real goal. The bottle once more wobbled towards Elma's face. “Don’t worry, I got it a little warmed up!” Lucoa beamed. Finally, needing some liquid, Elma sampled the wine. She took long, strong gulps. Lucoa laughed and cooed as the bottle was tipped back further and further. The blonde rocked on her chair, pushing her own chubby form close to Elma. She was delighted to find that Elma’s breasts were nearly as big as her own now. 230 pounds of office worker compared nicely with 200 pounds of cheerful layabout. “That’s good! Drink up!” Lucoa encouraged, the pleasuring of guiding her friend towards victory sent waves of pleasure through her body.

“Mpppgghh. . . gllluuub. . .gluuub.” Elma tried to speak back to Lucoa but her mouth was filled with sweet wine. Her mind swum with both the sensation of her stomach being stuffed and the effects of alcohol. A warmth grew within her stomach, spreading to the rest of her body. Happiness and inebriation filled her limbs. When the bottle was finally taken away, a silly grin was  left in its place. “Lucoaaaa. . .heee. . .that was for you!” Elma slurred her words a bit, finding them as hard to hold onto as a greased rope. She heard once that food helped dampen drunkenness, so she tried to stuff more noodles and chicken in. Her face was a mess of creamy sauce and red wine. “I get the. . .hic. . .food and. . .oorrrup. . .you get the drinks.” She nuzzled her friend, unable to hug thanks to the utensils in her mouth. Her chubby face rubbed against Lucoa’s soft shoulder. That was, until the bottle of wine was tipped in again.

“Drink up!” Was all that Lucoa said, hopping in her chair with glee. Her breasts bounced and knocked into Elma’s causing a storm of spreading jiggles. The two were the picture of indulgent happiness, children let loose in a candy store. However, that could not be said for everyone in the party.

“Hey, guys. . .maybe we should stop.” Tohru said, looking at the most updated bill that had been placed in her hands. The amount of zeros at the end were staggering. She had little idea of how human numbers worked, but the bits of shopping she did for Kobayashi had provided a bit of understanding about place values. She knew how addicting credit spending could be. Worse, a drunken Lucoa held the small, plastic gateway to that ocean of credit. Lucoa was used to Shouta’s and his ancestral wealth. Kobayashi didn't even have a fraction of that. “Elma, aren’t you full yet?” Tohru asked, hoping to lead her friend to the correct path.

“Noo. . .hic. . .waaaay.” Elma, now nearly as drunk as Lucoa said. Rosy blush spots had appeared on her cheeks and her dazed smile mimicked her eating partner. She wavered in her seat, adorably intoxicated and utterly unattached to the world. She continued to eat, taking liberal slurps from wine bottles delivered by the staff. Her drunkenness soared just as the bill built exponentially. Tohru watched, growing increasingly afraid of what was happening. Stress crept up on the blonde dragon, her hands pulling on the long ponytails she was known for. The meal continued to drag on, the women opposite her growing ever more attached to each other’s vices. Elma glugged wine and Lucoa scarfed down food, a gluttonous but highly involved spree. Tohru’s only outlet was eating the leftovers on scattered plates, trying to quell the fear rapidly growing in her heart. She waited for a chance to wrest control of the night back to herself. It came only when the fattening pair decided to move to another restaurant.

The waiter set down a small, golden tray for the credit card. Lucoa happily deposited it, blowing sloppy kisses to the waiter as well as Elma. He left, taking the precious card. In the meantime, Lucoa and Elma continued their drunken dance. They teased each other by leaning in or holding hands. Should either of them flinch away, the loser would be stuffed with bread. Elma, whether intentionally or not, lost often. The game continued up until the waiter returned. It was then that Tohru launched herself forward and grabbed the card. The table lurched and shifted under her stuffed gut, which had formed as she snacked nervously. With card in hand and her foodbaby resting upon the table, Tohru let out a triumphant call. “Aha! I’ve saved Kobayashi’s money!” She grinned down at the two drunken, fat women. “You two have to behave now!” Tohru had never been one to shy away from lording a position of privilege.

“Nooooo!” Lucoa sobbed, saddened that her gravy train had run dry. “Kobayashi gave. . .gave. . .hic. . .orrrup. . .me the card.” She made a lazy attempt to grab it back, her own fattened gut knocking empty wine bottles aside.

“Tohruuu. . .pleeeasssee. . .I’m so close.” Elma looked at the sober dragon with wet, begging eyes. “We jussscht. . . have to get. . .hicc. . .to one more. . . restaurant. Then I’ll have the. . .oorrruup. . .weight.” Elma made her case. “Bobayashi. . .Kobisshi. . .Kobayashi would want it!” After several tries, she got the name correct and finished her ramble.

For the first time since coming to the human world, Tohru had an appreciation of what wrangling dragons was like. She wondered if Kobayashi felt like this often with her own begging and schemes. Elma and Lucoa were too cute to ignore, their bodies glowing from the alcohol and sweat. They were puffy and fat, having put on nearly 30 more pounds since coming to the restaurant. Surely, Tohru thought, they had to be close to the limit. If they picked the right place, they could eat cheaply as well as get to the proper size. She sighed, hand dipping on the card. She slowly dropped it, letting it land between Lucoa’s massive breasts. “Fine. . .but find somewhere cheap!” Was her final command, the nervousness she felt did not dissipate.

---

“BBBBLLLOORRRRUUUP. . .ooohhh. . .MORE PLEASE!” Elma called, still too drunk to realize that she was shouting. Her face had just appeared out from another bowl of mac and cheese. She belched again, the staff of the buffet having to cover their ears as she freed up space in her stomach. The walk over had seen Elma reach a new level of obesity and gluttony. Each heavy step had provoked further changes throughout her body. Elma grew as she waddled along. Her stomach seeped further and further out, becoming a pale slab of fat which untucked itself from her shirt. It had bounced happily, the heavy U-shape it dropped into mimicked the broad grin of its master. Her breasts had remained covered, her shirt acting as a bra for the gigantic melons. She swayed in time with her stomach, following the slow arc through the air. Underneath the shirt the bountiful melons bobbed, shifting with girth they had never possessed before. The waddle to the next restaurant had been a slow but euphoric experience. Elma was in pure bliss as she made her way through the streets of Las Vegas. The world swirled into a confusing but delightful mixture of bright lights and delightful smells. When she had arrived at the buffett, she could hardly keep her 270 pounds of fat up.

“Mooooore for. . .the lady. . .ladies!” Lucoa added to Elma’s request. She had finally become inebriated enough to raise her voice above normally polite tones. The ancient dragon was remembering parties she had attended with the first men of the world, the people that had venerated her as a divine being. Those had been debaucherous affairs with drink and food much like this. She vastly preferred her current surroundings, celebrating with dragons and humans alike. “My precious. . .hooorrruup. . .wittle Elma has to. . .hiiiic. . .pass her test!” Lucoa slurred her words as she stood and tried to hug the voracious dragon to her left. She fell on top of her friend with an audible slap, smothering Elma with her marine buoy breasts. Elma was submerged under a tide of breast and stomach flab which had gotten slightly sweaty on the walk over. Lucoa’s weight had risen nearly as drastically as Elma’s, reaching a heavy 240 pounds. Beer and Italian food had bloated her outwards, truly letting her achieve a legendary hourglass figure. Beneath her fat, her chubby hands squished and stretched Elma’s face.

“Hey!” Tohru said between rabid bites of her own food. “You two better stop playing. You have to get big enough to get in that restaurant.” She carelessly shoveled both mashed potatoes and bits of barbequed beef into her mouth, caring more about fullness than appreciating taste. She ate with nervous zeal, unwilling to let herself be the reason that the trio failed to gain access to the vaunted halls of the Heart Attack Grill. While trailing behind, she had made it her mission to catch up. Surely, if a goody-goody Order dragon like Elma could wantonly indulge then a Chaos dragon such as Tohru could do even better! The walk had given her a starter's belly and advanced the size of her other assets. Underneath her pink sweater lurked a growing, gurgling belly. Tohru channeled everything she could into her feasting. She would swallow burger patties whole, washing them down with soda. She gobbled plates of fries, literally massaging her gut into submission as it grew angry at her stuffing. She stopped eating only to breathe painfully or remind the pair of drunkards to stay focused. Her eyes blazed with angry passion during the meal, fangs appearing to better slice through the cuts of meat.

“Heeey. . .you. . .BBBLLLUUURRRUUP. . .can’t be. . .OORRRUP. . .mean to me.” The drunken crybaby sobbed a little bit. She sniffed between belches. “Kobayassssshhhiii. . .” She started to say but was distracted by Lucoa slamming down a plate which contained no less than four steaks slathered in garlic butter. Elma clapped her hands and dug into the meal, fork and knife descending down like the talons of a predatory bird. Lucoa winked at Tohru, not too drunk to play the role of peacekeeper. She quickly went back to trying to slurp down several beer mugs at the same time. Tohru rolled her eyes, forcing jaw back into service shortly thereafter. The girls made royal pigs of themselves. Rather than try to serve the girls individually, the staff started to set platters in the middle of the table. They dug their hands, sometimes claws, into whatever was brought to them. Little hoards were made on place mats in draconic fashion. The night’s festivities had changed them from preferring gold and wealth to food and fat. Elma had the smallest hoard of food but the largest retainer of fat.

Tohru’s furious eating and Lucoa’s relentless quaffing could not hold a torch to the true master of the art. Elma practically lay on the table, her breasts and stomach spreading out like pillows below her. Half propped up by her gut, she rocked forward and backwards as she grabbed the choicest and most fattening morsels of food. Her wide ass rocked behind her, pushing Lucoa and the chair she sat in with no special effort. Reaching heights of culinary greed she had never dreamed of, Elma unconsciously dispersed magic through her body. She grew as she ate, appearing large with each new mouthful swallowed. Her stomach pushed forward, paradoxically keeping her from the food as she grew. She pushed it down with one hand, stuffing the soft flab beneath the table. The polished wood began to tilt, food pile sliding towards the one who desired it most. Elma’s cherubic face, so thick that her neck had disappeared under a second and third roll, was smeared with the only remaining proof of the dishes she had polished off. “BBBBOOORRRRPPP!” Her belches shook the restaurant, cracking some glasses and plates. She was so drunk and driven to food delirium that her tail manifested at points. Now thickened to the size of a ship’s mast, the blue tail would flick back and forth and slap her gigantic buttcheeks. It would disappear soon after, sensual mission accomplished.

“Ooooh. . .someone. . .LLLUUURRP. . .is getting chubby!” Lucoa swooned as she felt Elma’s fat leak onto her. The busty dragoness played with the messy, sweaty stomach rolls which invaded her personal space. Elma blushed but did not stop eating, her hands pushing and shoving ever more into her mouth. Food rained down on Lucoa but, through innate Venusian magic, never seemed to stick to her. She continued to caress and kiss Elma’s round paunch, using magic of her down to speed up the process of digestion. “Bigger and bigger. . .oooh Tohru. . .isn’t she a cute. . .BBLLRRRUUUP. . .dragony balloon.” Lucoa heaped praises on like one of her old worshippers would do to her, knowing full well the power of positive reinforcement. She pressed her plump lips deeply into Elma belly, hearing her churning gut. Even though she was nearing 300, Elma had enough food packed into her that she would grow for hours after. “Heee. . .big. . .BIG. . .BIGGOORRRRUUULLLP. . .Elma!” Lucoa drunkenly worshiped the fatter woman, almost leaching off of the magic being generated to grow herself.

“Hey-hey-hey!” Tohru took a rare break from her eating to slap Lucoa away from Elma. “You just have to make sure YOU are going to be heavy enough now.” Ignoring Lucoa’s pouting, Tohru leaned over to try and pour more beer down the older dragon’s gullet. Torhu misjudged her own added weight, clumsily sloshing beer about. Her sweater was drenched, showing the voluminous breasts underneath. She growled, but stayed focused on fattening Lucoa up. Her incessant need to praise and cuddle Elma had made her lag behind. While Elma would certainly be fat enough to meet the requirements, it was still in doubt if she and Lucoa would. While Lucoa gurgled through the attempted beer drowning, Tohru grabbed and shoved rolls into her own mouth. She did not bother to lick the crumbs and smears of butter from her lips. Instead, she let them fall onto her chest and exposed stomach. The time for cleanliness could come later. For now, she and the other girls had to gorge.

--- The Moment of Truth and Celebration ---

“Haaah. . .maaade. . .it.” Tohru said as she waddled up to the scale which stood outside the Heart Attack Grill. The red sign beamed down at her as she stood staring at the industrial scale. The plating atop it was a rusty red color and appeared to be the kind of metal that would be on the side of heavy machinery. White guardrails sprung up on either side, doubtless to help those patrons who were too fat to even stand anymore. Disapproval touched her chubby face, knowing that she was now part of the club that could eat for free.

Fat now rested upon her body, ruining the curvy but slim form that she knew Kobayashi secretly dreamed of at night. Her sweater had simply torn down the middle, the Japanese sizing unable to keep up with Tohru’s Americanized body. Her gut lurched forward, hiding most of the short skirt she wore. From the back she knew her butt had pushed up her little white hem, showing just how bouncy and huge her rear had become. Hearing Lucoa and Elma coming behind her, Tohru sighed and waddled forward. Best to get the night on quickly. On a large, electronic sign numbers counted up quickly. A brilliant, bold, and soul crushing 350 beamed out for all the world to see. Cursing Elma, Tohru made her way into the restaurant.

Lucoa came next, unable to walk in a straight line. She walked with her arms held nearly perpendicular to her body, pushed into odd angles by the way her breasts had merged with her underarm rolls. Her black shirt was a distant memory, rolled and folded under her giant pumpkin sized breasts. “Ooooh. . .hic. . .I hope. . .I’m. . .BBBLLLORRRRUUUP. . .big enough.” She wheezed and belched. “Cooome on. . .OOOORRUP. . .tummy.” She said, trying to lift her gut in order to wish it well. She struggled to make it past her breasts. Even when she did grab the folds of her double-gut, Lucoa could only manage to stretch it up a little. Otherwise, her stomach stayed well planted upon her thighs. Needing to use the handle, Lucoa inched her way slowly onto the scale. Her breasts flopped over the railing, heating the cold metal. For all the world, Lucoa looked like a cow about to be milked.

She stood humming, shaking an ass that had devoured most of her jean shorts. The numbers ticked upwards reaching. . .310 pounds. “Whaaaat?” Lucoa sobbed. “But I did. . .did. . .everything.” A small tear appeared in one of her closed eyes. She was about to turn away when she heard Tohru banging on a window from inside. Her voice was muffled but Lucoa caught “Breasts. . .off. . .rail!” Snapping to attention for a moment, the dreamy dragon pushed her clumsy body off of the hand rail. The numbers readjusted, flashing 400. “Oooohhh. . .thank you. . .hic. . .Tohru.” Lucoa started to waddle towards the exasperated dragon, smiling without any particular reason to.

“Mmmppggh. . .waait. . .mmmggph. . .Huh-uuuupp. . .girlsssch!” Elma cried as she saw her friends enter her dream restaurant. She lagged behind, trying to motivate her colossal body into continuous motion. Elma lurched and waddled, hamburgers in either hand. Her face bore the wreckage of every meal she had eaten thus far that night. It was a little boulder of flushed fat which sat atop a body that could only be described as mountainous. She had become so round and flabby that she could have been rolled onto the scale. Her thighs smashed together, rubbing nakedly through the holes in her jeans. Her pants had split down the middle of the rear, revealing a tortured pair of blue panties with little dragons on them. “Mmmpggh. . .gotta. . .be. . .biiiiig.” Tortured by the thought of being unworthy, Elma had eaten all the way to the weigh in. Her arms had grown heavy and cumbersome, struggling to lift food into her gob and pump at the same time. Biceps that had ripped through the sleeves of her shirt rubbed sensually against breasts that could not be contained by any bra. Elma might have toppled over, had it not been for the thick ass which counterbalanced her. She pounded the pavement as she waddled, small feet somehow keeping her titanic body aloft. “Mmmppggh. . .pleasscch. . .” Elma gave a desperate cry as she stuffed the last of her food into her mouth. The moment of truth had arrived.

She stepped onto the scale gingerly, afraid she would somehow not get the result she wanted. Elma’s brain was drenched in booze and her earlier meals had made her nearly comatose. She thought only of reaching the inside of the restaurant, not even considering what she might eat there. The numbers on the cattle scale started to blow upwards. Elma took her second step, belly grinding against the sides of the large handrails. Her mouth worked in fear and desperation. It mattered little that she was bigger than her two friends that had gained entrance, it was the number on the screen that would determine her fate. Either Elma would be allowed in and be free to glut her burnout away, or she would be cast back into the pits of office worker depression. Her hands pushed into her thick facial folds, eyes growing wet with nervous anticipation. “HOOORRRRUUP. . .ooohhh. . .come.  .ooon.” Elma bit her plump lip, feeling her stomach still sag as weight was added to it. The numbers on the screen continued to tick upwards, quickly surpassing the 350 benchmark. Elma watched with growing excitement as she realized that she had surpassed even Lucoa. The numbers grew and grew, that precious value growing more each second. Elma shifted her weight from side to side, straining either leg and the machine under her. A grinding could be heard as the industrial scale began to tire of the weight placed upon it. The smell of mechanical smoke filled Elma’s nose. Sparks and pops came from under the grate. One of the supports gave, making the rotund dragon lurch to the side. When she looked up again, there was a word written instead of a number. Error. The word was etched into the Vegas night. “Did. . .I?” Elma asked, a finger in her mouth. Her mind was equal parts worried and proud.

“Yes! Come on, dummy!” Tohru called, afraid that she would be called upon to pay for the repairs to the scale. Elma, meanwhile, proudly waddled forward. If even Tohru said so, it must have been true that she hit the proper marker. She had made it into the glutton’s Valhalla. The time to truly feast was nigh.

---

“Ooookaaay now!” A waitress said as she wrapped a hospital gown and bib around Elma’s neck. The loose fabric fluttered around her body, though Elma tucked the edges of it under her lowest gut fold. She wanted to see the fat she had so lovingly cultivated, as well as feel the tightness. She had earned these experiences over a night of wild and reckless indulgence, she would revel in them as she could. “Aren’t you a biggun and so cute!” The waitress couldn’t stop complimenting Elma, even going as far as to pinch a softball sized cheek. Elma blushed. In the background, Lucoa fumed a little bit at being denied the opportunity to dote on her obese friend. “You just tell me what you want, we can put a prescription in for you!” The server stayed true to her role as a “nurse” of the establishment. The inside of the grill was hospital themed, with pictures of sultry nurses on the walls and even a hanging pill bottle. It was a fun, if slightly morbid, atmosphere. “I can tell you girls are here to eat, so I’m gonna go ahead and put in an early prescription for 3 butterfat shakes.” She quickly trotted off, shapely butt wiggling through the scrubs she wore. Elma couldn’t help but take a peak behind her.

“Well.” Tohru said, playing with her hair. Having run out of food to stress eat, she had started to tug on the twin tails of blonde hair with crimson ends. “I guess we made it. Assuming they weren’t lying about the free food.” She huffed, moving her arms to try and cross them over her gigantic breasts. They had swelled to such a point that her sweater’s cute neckline had been turned into a lewd porthole to her pendulous cleavage. It was the sort of outfit Tohru might consider for Kobayashi, but not for the masses. It had been a night of compromises and the green dragon was frustrated with them. Instead of eating out of nervousness, she would be gorging her anger away. Pretending that she was slurping up the cattle of villages long ago as a proper dragon might.

“Sscchhtoop worrying so much.” Lucoa tipped back and forth in her chair, somehow still growing more inebriated. “This is a celebration.” She put a puffy arm around Elma’s fat broadened shoulders and pulled the massive cutie in close. She tousled Elma’s hair, squished her cheeks, and played with her plump lips. Tohru had never seen Lucoa so handsy. The powerful, ancient dragon maiden was unstoppable in her quest to fondle and grope Elma’s succulent fat. “Our precious. . .hiic. . .but not tiny. . .Elma isccch. . . getting. . .her treat!” Not yet finished physically expressing her love and admiration for Elma, Lucoa planted sloppy kisses up and down her cheeks and neck. Elma, overcome by her own stupor, turned to give some of her own back.

“Gracious!” The waitress exclaimed, having returned with the shakes. “Aren’t you just the friendliest bunch.” She set the shakes down and started to pull out her notepad. No sooner had the tray hit the table than Elma began to scoot forward in her double chairs. Her gut bounced off the table, rocking it mercilessly. Her legs were spread wide so her gut could fall between thighs the size of concrete pillars. Elma was dead set on getting one of the thick shakes, ready to drown the table in her fat to get it. Only by pure luck did she get her hands around it without spilling the others. She drank it like a man lost in the desert would drink water, sucking the thick and sugary sludge down. Her stomach bulged forward, once again set to destroy whatever was placed inside of it. The waitress looked down on the greedy scene. “Oh, I think I’m gonna like you!” She leaned down next to Elma. “You just say the words and I’ll bring you anything that chubby heart desires.” A shiver ran down Elma’s spine as orders sprung to mind. Lured by the promise of more food, she put down her cup of Butterfat shake. She looked down at a menu that promised quadruple, quintuple, and even octuple burgers. Meat, cheese, and toppings all stacked in towers so glorious that they rivaled the skyscrapers of Tokyo. She breathed heavily, realizing that this might be the first place to truly understand her. With eyes wider than a child on Christmas morning, she began her order.

----

The burgers were set down in the middle of the table. They were so high and massive that the girls lost sight of each other. They were drowned in the smells of fried beef, melted cheese, and baskets of onion rings. Gallons of soda were placed at their chubby feet, ready to be poured out as necessary. The entire process for unloading the food took minutes, but the three dragons were not going to wait that long. Elma waited as long as she could, round about thirty seconds, and then began to drag one of the burgers back to her. Her thickened fingers, now fatter around that a dry erase marker, closed about the warm tower of beef. Grease fled from the patties, penetrating the spaces between her fingers with ease. Her smile widened as she brought the food back with her. She soon opened her mouth, widening it like a shark about to grab its prey. She was so hungry and anxious that her eyes began to roll back into her head. She almost fainted as she took her first bite, filling her mouth with the soft and warm patties. The burger tower nearly collapsed as a hunk was bitten out of it. Even if it had collapsed, spewing its contents onto Elma, she wouldn’t have minded; more for later.

Elma hardly chewed, swallowing the mouthful in a single gulp. Even though it had filled both of her chubby cheeks, it went down easy. Her stomach was hardly impacted by the addition of another near-pound of meat. She was now large enough where it would take more than that to distend her belly. She cuddled the burger like a lover, bringing it close so she could take another bite. Sloppy grease and ketchup pooled upon the table itself and dripped onto Elma’s lap as the burger was brought to the very side of the table. Her stomach bellied up against it as she went in for another bite. She took one then another in quick succession in an attempt to test her cheeks’ ability to hold food. She had proven what her stomach could do, now it was time to test the rest of her. “Mmmooophhggh. . .ssmmmggghhp. . .smarrff.” Elma tried to speak to her companions, to tell them how good the food was, but she could only splutter bits of food out. With the attempt of speech made, she returned to her meaty lover.

Lucoa, meanwhile, had straddled her own burger. Uncaring of appearances, Lucoa had shoved her burger between her breasts, using the wall of cleavage to stabalize the leaning tower. Like the serpent she was, Lucoa seemed to coil around the burger. She took bites from the top as if she meant to swallow it whole. She knew that she could not eat the octuple burger like Elma, but had settled for a quintuple patty extravaganza. Her butt filled the chair she rested on, shorts a distant memory. They existed now as little more than a jean thong, situated deeply between two exposed asscheeks. Lucoa straddled the gigantic tower of meat, enjoying the feeling of it thrusting between her breasts. “Coome to Mamaa!” She sang before making loud and obnoxious eating noises. Her butt wiggled back and forth, happily bouncing as she ate. As the burger lost shape and structure, Lucoa’s breasts acted as a sort of trough. She ate from the milk balloons, almost slurping the remnants up. Merrily, she turned to Tohru. “Are you. . .BBBLLOORRRUUP. . .enjoying your. . .OORRRRUUUP. . .meal, Tohru?” She asked, scanning her friend and the menu between them for more ideas.

“I miss Kobayashi.” Tohru pouted, forking onion rings and chili cheese slathered fries into her mouth. She wept as she ate, ruing the decision to ever come on this silly adventure. She had never been so stuffed and despised the feeling of her body’s constant growing. The same draconic magic that had allowed Lucoa and Elma to shape their bodies for the night’s challenge was now affecting her almost as deeply as it did them. With each bite she blimped out further. Her arms grew heavy, biceps flopping as she moved them at a rapid pace. Her butt squished against the back of the chair, pressing itself through any available space around or between the metal spokes. Her breasts, the only part of her fattening she even kind of enjoyed, grew as large as pumpkins. “Kobayaschhi. . .mmmpggh. . .needsscch. . .to hold me. . .after thissch.” Tohru whined, hoping to trade the monumental favor she had done for Elma in for unabridged physical contact. To make matters worse, she felt a stirring in her stomach. Horror grew on her face. A pressure formed, growing until it could no longer be held back. She whined meakly. “NoooooOOORRRRRUUUP. . .oooh this is. . .blllrrruuup. . .awful!” She buried her feelings in more eating.

Lucoa giggled, before signaling the waitress over. Something had caught her eye on the menu. The “nurse” came over, excited to see what new feat the women would attempt. Elma was finishing her first burger, eagerly reaching for the second. The octuple patties would not last long under her relentless assault. Lucoa knew there would have to be a second round, with entertainment between. Lucoa whispered to the nurse, gleefully asking and giving suggestions on how to continue to please Elma. Most of it could not be heard, save for “bigger than any” and “to the brim.”. However, both the waitress and Lucoa left the conversation smiling ear to ear. As a final treat, the waitress put a couple of fake syringes on the table. Squealing with joy, her breasts jumping, Lucoa took one and pumped the gooey serum inside into her mouth. The taste of jello and vodka electrified her tongue. Lucoa shivered as her inebriation was brought back in full force. Goofy smile returning, she hefted herself up and waddled over to Elma.

“Yoouuufff. . .ooouurrrup. . .been schhooo. . .good today!” Lucoa said, leaning her bulky mass onto her friend. The eating had pushed the two of them further on the track of ludicrous obesity. 500 pounds of chesty Lucoa rained down upon nearly 630 pounds of hyper-obese Elma. The chairs strained and bent, their legs practically giving out. Lucoa didn’t mind, soon Elma wouldn’t be needing chairs. What she really needed, the drunken dragon rationalized, was everyone of her fears and worries drowned in a torrent of every kind of indulgence imaginable. Taking one of the syringes in her mouth, Lucoa eased her sensual bulk further onto Elma. She massaged the fatter woman’s neck folds.

Slowly the feeling of her touch worked Elma away from her food. Her enormous body flopped backwards, any amount of grace stolen by her heavy weight. Her body bounced heavily once as she made full contact with the backrests of her chairs. She looked up into cleavage that could only be compared with beachballs. Between them lay Lucoa’s own cherubic face. She had taken the syringe out of her mouth, working it around her and Elma’s fat. “We have. . .hiic. . .gif you. . .ALL the gifts!” Lucoa said in a singsong voice. She plopped the syringe into Elma’s mouth. Without question, the fatter woman closed her mouth around the little rod of plastic. Lucoa pushed the plunger slowly, savoring the moment. Elma slapped her belly as yet more Alcohol hit it. “Perfect!” Overcome by happiness, Lucoa leaned down and kissed the bigger woman. It was as sloppy as their eating had been, all drunken passion and little skill, yet their hearts fluttered all the same. Lucoa pulled back for a moment. “That was. . .was. . .gift twwwwoooo. . .now for. . .gift three!” She pushed another syringe into Elma’s mouth, further pumping her friend full of sugar, alcohol, and calories. With the jello shots dispensed, Lucoa waited for gift number four to be brought out by the waitstaff.

---

“Isssccch. . .OOORRRRUUP. . .thissch. . .hicc. . .all for. . .me?” Elma asked as she watched the waitress’s struggle. Four of them carried an oil barrel that had been bisected. Rebar legs had been welded to the bottom in order to fashion a trough. It was made and molded in the spirit of the restaurant: ugly and crass in design but beautiful in how it pandered to the most base instincts. Stickers of attractive nurses had been slapped on the side and the center of it read “DA BIG OINKER” in white spray paint. It was filled with every possible piece of food on the menu, cups of shake and soda had been inserted into cupholders on the side. Elma clapped her hands as it was brought to her. “It. . .can’t be? Can it?” She asked Lucoa, who was still massaging her stomach and breasts. As Elma clapped, slow ripples spread through her body and into Lucoa’s. They became one unit of fat, sharing jiggles, physical touch, and inebriation.

“Oooooh it iisssss!” Lucoa sang, leaning down to kiss her friend on the cheek again. The constant drink had made her unstoppably romantic, lusting after everything in reach. She needed to share her happiness through skin to skin contact, transferring the warm sunlight which gestated in her belly. The chairs couldn’t take the love though. The two dragons had continued to fatten, their burgers from earlier digesting rapidly. Fat had poured onto them like water filling a balloon. Now nearly 700 pounds, Elma was about to bring destruction to her chairs and a 550 pound Lucoa was about to help. “Isss the final gift!” Lucoa’s drunken slur revealed even more of her serpentine nature. While too fat to dance to Shouta playing the flute, she could wheeze “essss” sounds through her teeth all night long. That was, when she wasn’t too busy with other things. “Of course. . .hic. . .other giftsssch while they. . .BBBLLUUURRRUUP. . .set up!” Lucoa belched, her fat vibrating her breasts Elma’s chipmunk cheeks. When she finished, the blonde leaned down and deposited another jello shot followed by a kiss. Then the chairs collapsed.

“WEEEE!” Elma cried as she topped to the floor. She was far too drunk and carefree to mind the damage. Her enormous butt landed on the floor with enough force to shake the two buildings around her, Lucoa’s landing caused aftershocks. The two enormous fatties rolled on the ground, unsure if they wanted to eat or continued to paw at each other. It was a sloppy meeting of lips and mouths and tongues. The squelching of sweaty rolls and plump lips filled the restaurant. Tohru looked away and buried her shame in another plate of chili cheese dogs. Meanwhile, Elma kissed Lucoa like she was trying to drag food out of her belly. “Mhhhmmm. . . Wuuuuucoowwaaaaa. . .mmmppphmmmphh!” Elma tried to speak but was reeling from the consecutive shots of vodka. Now bereft of any shame, the immense dragoness simply took what she wanted. She wanted love and she wanted food. Elma’s greedy hands searched through fat, trying to find the softest parts of her older friend to grope. The two kissed upside down, both too lazy to switch positions; the ruins of the chairs flattened underneath them. They weren’t stopped until Elma felt the trough drop next to them. Immediately, she dropped the breast she was trying to suckle and started to roll away.

Lucoa sighed, saddened again that carnal pleasure had been stolen from her. However, given the state Elma was in, she reasoned more would come. The behemoth blue dragon struggled under her, their twin masses undulating and slapping against the tile floor. Slowly, Lucoa rolled off, needing to take time to catch her breath after. She was able to watch as Elma surged upwards, possessed with strength that would only last until she reached the food. It was like a colossus being brought to life. On her hands and knees, Elma’s gut pooled onto the floor. She was so fat that it was almost impossible to tell that she was stuffed. All that could be seen was a knot of tightness, nearly as big as a normal person's stomach. Her shirt was completely split, leaving her breasts to flop out as they willed. Bigger than watermelons, bigger than most pumpkins, they forced their way into the trough as Elma mounted it. She grasped the sides, her hands turning white with the strength applied, and plunged her flabby face into it. Her ass, as naked as her breasts, clapped and bounced happily as she ate. Sweat rolled from her body, dripping onto the floor. A misty swelter rose from Elma as she reached the peak of her gluttonous state. Lucoa had never seen such a magnificent sight.

Meanwhile, to the gorging dragon, her world was all food. She saw nothing but burger patties, hotdogs, french fries, and onion rings. Her face would submerge into the sloppy, heterogenous mixture with jaws open wide. She ate and ate, practically vacuuming the food into her maw. Her face and breasts were covered with food and stains. Her hair was only spared thanks to the short length. She was less a dragon and more of a waste disposal unit. She knew only how to work her mouth, even her name dulled as she fed. Her stomach grew and grew, tightening with each bite. With tears of joy, Elma continued eating. The trough bent under her weight, dragged towards the same doom as the chairs. Not even industrial materials could hold the weight of the growing goddess. She lunged in and out of the sea of food, bathing herself in grease and condiments. The hunger she had known all her life was about to be quenched tonight. Better still, it would be quenched with a partner.

The trough shook, grinding under the weight of a new entry. Elma brought her head up, confused. She emerged to find an equally naked Lucoa, slurping and chomping away. She smiled as she looked upon the plains and valleys of her friend’s flabby body. These were changes that she, Elma, had wrought. Not only had she gotten to express her own gluttony, she had spread that gift with her most buxom friend. In a state beyond words, Elma ate until she was nudging faces with her friend. They met in the middle of the trough, kissing and groping even more slovenly than before. Elma didn’t realize how plump her lips had grown until she felt Lucoa sucking on them. She kissed back just as hard, wanting to taste meals she did not have the pleasure of eating. As the two met in the middle, Lucoa’s breast slumped into the trough one by one. Heavy with fat and milk, they submerged into the food. The food, so full of fat and sugar that it was near toxic, rose between Lucoa’s boobs. A tide of fast food now rose around titty-islands. Elma dove back in.

Elma ate and kissed, kissed and ate. Her cheeks rubbed against soft breast fat. She would push against the cleavage walls and they would push back. The food levels ebbed and rose like the tides under the constant jiggling. Above, Lucoa kissed Elma’s head and drunkenly showered her with words of encouragement. Elma gyrated on her knees, thrusting her immense gut back and forth. It drug and rolled upon the tile, made slick with her sweat and grease. It was the most base, lowest down feeding she had ever taken part of. . .and she loved it. Her ass swung opposite her stomach as she moved and searched for food. It was a glorious, sloppy game that continued even as the trough started to collapse. One rebar support gave out, then another. For the second time that night, Elma felt her fat go into free fall. She landed with a thick and wet SPLAT, her arms and legs splayed out in all directions. The orgy began anew, with Lucoa rejoining. They rolled and smooched in the food, seeking out more morsels or each other’s lips.

Meanwhile, watching it all with growing revulsion was Tohru. She buried her sorrows in a thirty-two ounce cup of soda, trying to wash away the feelings of embarrassment. Her own stomach billowed out between her legs, now made into a taut balloon. She was clearing away all the food on the table, stress eating her night away. She could not join the insanity on the floor, nurses and patrons alike cheering and gawking, but she could not simply leave the food either. Food was now her only comfort. It destroyed her body, but it also made things remotely tolerable. She grew, frantically putting on pounds as quickly as she could suck food down. She leaned her elbows on the table, trying to look at the plates before her rather than the mess upon the floor. She could feel thumping and resonant booms coming up through the floor as Elma and Lucoa further amused each other. It wasn’t until a waitress came within arms length that Tohru looked up. She grabbed the woman, knowing it was time to put an end to the madness. “Please. . .sniff. . .get the check.” She requested, distraught enough to forget that everything was free. She requested, distraught enough to forget that everything was free. The salty taste of embarrassed tears flavored her food for the rest of the night.

--- A Slow Journey Home ---

“Ooooh. . .sscchooo. . .mmmm-hmmm. . .ssscchtuffed. “ Elma groaned as she forced her body into torturous movement. Her gut, seemingly equal parts fat and pure foodbaby, lurched under a flapping hospital gown. Elma had finally been discharged from the Heart Attack Grill after sieging the kitchen for long hours. She had gotten her fill of food and drink, sampling everything on the menu hundreds of times over. In exquisite detail she could describe not only every item but also what they tasted like in combination. Her display of gluttony had sickened the staff and drained them to the point of forcing the restaurant to close the next day. Nearly single handedly, Elma emptied their larder for days to come. Rush deliveries would be called and food suppliers would be paid handsomely to cover for what the dragoness had done to them. She, however, had little knowledge of that. Elma only knew the feeling of central and excruciating stomach tightness. Her gut throbbed, a second hill in the midst of a larger hill of fat on her torso. She leaned back in order to compensate for her new weight, gut flopping fully past her thighs. “I. . .OORRRUUP. . .ate schoo mussscch.” She tried to smile, but stopped with a wince. Any change in posture provoked sharp pain for her stomach.

“Yoooouuu. . .hic. . .did!” Lucoa said, taking another drink from a bottle of vodka she had taken as a souvenir. She was nearly as stuffed as Elma, though much of it was in drink. It seemed as soon as her stomach reached maximum capacity, her body would process the sitting alcohol and start to empty. She longed to be as full and pleasure-pained as her friend. Lucoa was no more clothed than Elma, her massive breasts swinging like wrecking balls underneath a sheet unprepared to house them. Her nipples, erect for most of the evening at this point, poked into the gown. They rolled upon a gut that had subdivided into two or three rolls. The milky mammaries slid back and forth, smearing the same sorts of stains which covered Elma. The two were a matching pair of hedonists, the minute differences only working to reinforce the similarities. They basked in the afterglow of the feeding, romance, and wildness of the night. Neither wanted it to end, but that was not true for everyone.

“Let’s just go home.” Tohru mumbled, leading the pack. Her fuming had increased along with her waistline. She refused to look behind at her companions, only wanting to escape the awful city and drag the pair of happy hedonists back to reality. America was a shitty place, built upon the worst kind of indulgence and avarice. “Kobayashi is probably missing us.” She sniffed, realizing that she would be returning a scarred and battered soldier. Her scars and signs of battle were the new folds which hung down from her body. She was a portly woman now, driven by stress to blow up even past the weight Elma had waddled into the grill with. She had to throw her arms as she waddled, fighting with her breasts in order to move. At the very least, she thought, it was almost time to fly home. “Ok. . .let’s just get this done with,” She growled as they all stepped into an alleyway. She waved her arms, slowly taking back her draconic form.

Tohru grew bigger, her bones and muscles thickening as she remembered her true and terrifying nature. Green scales crossed her arms and legs as they grew to tree-like proportions. Tohru dropped to all forms, claws shredding the pavement underneath her. Behind the glitz and glam of Vegas she was allowed to resume her bestial nature. A thick and mighty tail swung, strong enough to smash a building to rubble with only a few half hearted swipes. Tohru was a living calamity that assumed a human form for fun. Yet, the transformation felt different. Her body moved slower, her neck seemed thicker, and her gut reached to the very floor. “NOOOOOOO!” Tohru bellowed in the language of dragons, though it came out as an incoherent roar. Her wings beat, strong enough to reverse a hurricane but unable to lift the fat which had followed her from human to dragon.

“Uuuuhh-ooooh. . .hic-ooorrruup. . .schooomeeonessscch a chubby-wubby now.” Elma giggled. She had thumped into the alleyway, tossing her gunny sacks worth ass fat onto the ground. While people might have felt the rumble of Elma’s landing, it had been masked by Tohru’s temper tantrum. Elma sat on the ground, tree-stump thighs spread wide so that her gut might rest on the cool ground. She massaged her stomach, rubbing away the crimson hue. She listed back and forth, rocking as she moved. “Chuuuuubeeeh!” Elma could not help teasing her rival, sucking in the misfortune like it was another dish of food. She had glutted on hamburgers for dinner, but would take dessert in another form.

“Oooh-noooo!” Lucoa added to the torment, flopping down next to the fatter woman. Thanks to her fat and breasts, Lucoa practically floated on a mattress of her own making. She tried to kick her legs, but struggled to lift them. “Did you eat too much?” Lucoa’s question might have seemed like patronizing teasing, but it was genuine. She was so drunk that her eyes might have actually been closed, rather than pulled tight by a smile. Lucoa blushed as Tohru started to waddle over, green scaly gut dragging upon the ground. Thrums of jiggles and ripples spread through her, physical reminders of the pleasure of fat. Lucoa rolled back and forth, wanting to give every part of her obesity a chance to feel the undulations caused by Tohru. When she looked up, she saw a green monster snorting smoke in unhidden rage.

“You can’t change back either!” Tohru roared and bellowed, snorting her displeasure. Each syllable rumbled out revealed the extent of her obesity. Her gut bounced upon the ground, cracking concrete. Whilst touching the ground, it also smooshed against her legs.

“I caaaaan!” Elma called, already starting her transformation. She lengthened as her hue deepend. A shiny blue took her body and as her skin became even smoother. Her arms disappeared as her body became purely serpentine. Elma was even fatter than Tohru, a fact which became doubly apparent as she revealed her sea serpent form. She was a blob without any distinction. Her head connected directly to the rest of her body and her trident shaped tail sunk into the fat surrounding her. “But. . .hiic. . .oooh. . .I don’t think I can. . .BBBLLOOOORRRUUUUP. . .fly!” She bellowed, her calls having deepened thanks to her own immensity. She tried to move, making no progress but quaking the ground around her. The earth trembled as far as the hoover dam, 37 miles away. “Too fat. . .OOOORRRUUP. . .nnnd drunk. . .BBLLOORRRUUP. . .to fly though.” Her reptilian muzzle, half submerged beneath an ocean of fat, opened wide to let a long tongue droop out. “Too tired.”

“Too fat!” Tohru thundered in incoherent rage. “Too fat!”

“That as well. . .hee-hee.” Elma rolled onto her back, though it was unclear if she meant to or not. Her immense, tubular body rolled like the weight on a steam roller, pressing the road down underneath her. She tried to slap the ground with her tail, but only struggled impotently. “Guessch. . .Lucoa will teleport us!” Though drunk, ideas could still come to the blue dragon. However, a snore came from around her bulk.

Slowly, both Tohru and Elma turned to look. They found Lucoa, the most powerful dragon potentially in existence and the only immediate answer to their problems, totally asleep on the ground. Tohru slumped, shifting back to being a portly human. Elma, having too much fun sinking into her own fat, continued to exist as a living parade float. Tohru tried to coax Lucoa awake, but the older woman was far too drunk and sleepy. She merely drifted deeper into sleep, a little bubble appearing at the corner of her mouth. The thumps of Tohru’s fists on the ground did not wake her either.

--- Epilogue ---

“Kobayashi!!!” Tohru called, so excited to finally be home that she bumped the door open with her gut. The small yellow door came flying off of its hinges. It banged open, sending some items crashing to the floor. More things in the kitchen were destined to fall as Tohru started to force her way in. Tohru pushed her way in, shoving her fat through the door as best she could. She had to enter sideways, belly and butt dragging across the frame. It was an agonizing process, made even more agonizing by Tohru’s fears of getting caught. It was already bad enough she was returning to the house as fat as a pig, but Kobayashi seeing her in such a compromising position would be more than she could endure. “Home. . .uugggh. . .jusscchht. . .a. . .minute.” Tohru grit her teeth, trying to force her way through the door without being seen in a compromising position. Unfortunately, she was not so lucky.

“Ah, so you also got fat.” A tired, almost bored voice said. In horror, Tohru looked up, believing that she might have been discovered by Kobayashi. Instead, she saw one of the other residents of the apartment: Ilulu. The pink haired, absurdly busty dragoness had been left to take care of Kobayahsi and Kanna while the trio was away. “Do you need help?” She asked, her eyes never changing facial expression. Ilulu was strange, an anomaly amongst both dragons and humans alike. She hardly ever showed her emotions, often putting her innermost thoughts out into the world without filter or care. She wielded her own brand of magic without concerns for feelings or ethics, often choosing the most simple answers for problems.

“I had to, it's not my fault!” Tohru squealed, stuck in the door without any hope of getting herself out without breaking the frame. Tohru would have rather waited for the weight to burn off naturally through starvation than she would have anyone help her. Unfortunately for Tohru's pride, Ilulu did not share the same opinion.

“Come on, you are going to let bugs in.” The shorter woman put forth a claw which could slash through steel, she had trouble maintaining a totally human form, and pulled Tohru into the apartment. Tohru gave an exasperated shriek as she was pulled through the door. She landed with a loud thud, knocking over pots and pans. She lay on the floor, a puddle of fat barely dressed in the remnants of clothes that she had begun the trip in. Ilulu, uncaring of Tohru’s mental state, stepped over her obese roommate and shut the door. Her breasts did most of the work in closing the door. When she turned around, Tohru had not moved much. “Don’t you want to see Kobayashi?” Ilulu asked, nudging one of Tohru’s gigantic buttcheeks with her foot. “I think she’s missed you.” The pink haired dragon said, tone never changing.

“Yeeeess.” Tohru whined, putting her face between her arms. “But she’s gonna hate that I’m fat.” Tohru tried to hide, but she succeeded in only lifting her chair-crushing ass into the air more.  It wobbled back and forth as Tohru made excuses and apologies for her weight, trying to shift the blame. “It was all Elma’s fault! She did it, she’s awful. Lucoa too. I think they need to be banned from this apartment!” Her hair flew in the air as she twisted back and forth. Her ass danced shoving up and down.

“Come on, let’s go.” Ilulu cared little for the excitable nature of her friend. Cutting through the nervousness and apologies, she reached her clawed arm down and grabbed Tohru. Tohru seemed even fatter as Ilulu’s claw helped her up, the thin and scaly hand sinking into the meatiest part of the older dragon’s bicep. “We can worry about weight loss later. It’s not important.” Ilulu started dragging Tohru down the hallway. The blonde dug her heels in at first, still protesting, but gave in as the thought of seeing Kobayashi grew in her mind. A little talking-to about her weight would be worth the overall joy of reuniting. Besides, thought Tohru, it would give her a chance to blame Elma and Lucoa for their behavior. Kobayashi should have trusted her with the credit card, not the drunken lunatic and food maniac. However, the thought of them combined with something Ilulu had said to raise a question in Tohru’s mind.

“Uhhh, Ilulu, how did you know that Elma and Lucoa had gotten fat?” Tohru asked just as the pair reached Kobayashi and Tohru’s bedroom.

“Huh?” Ilulu asked, not stopping. She opened the door and pushed Tohru in. She followed after, quietly closing the door behind her.

Inside the room, Tohru had shut her eyes and was busy bargaining and pleading with Kobyashi. She recounted the full night’s trip, finding every possible way to paint herself in the best possible light. “Really, Kobayashi! I’m so sorry!” She sobbed, afraid of impending condemnation and anger. “They wouldn’t stop or give me the card! They were greedy monsters.” Tohru pulled on her pathetically small sweater, only working to expose her gut more. Her knees slammed together, making her thighs quiver. Naked to the world, Tohru’s gigantic thighs shook back and forth. She cringed, hunkering down like a dog about to be yelled at. “Elma. . .she. . .she just kept eating!” Tohru finally finished. She waited in the warm, sultry darkness for Kobayashi’s response.

“I OOORRRRRUUUUP. . .know the feeling.” A blast of air which Tohru instantly recognized as a terrific belch, louder even than Elma’s, blew her hair back. It was Kobayashi’s sweet voice that had been warped and deepened by the terrific expulsion. Tohru looked up in surprise, eyes opening for the first time since entering. They adjusted to the dark instantly, revealing Kobayashi. She lay on her bed, though none of the mattress was visible. She was a massive pile of lard, seemingly endless folds stacked upon one another. Her back was propped up by a pile of pillows and her own bench-sundering asscheeks. Two enormous breasts, thicker and bigger than Tohru’s gut rested upon a stomach that could have held Elma with no problem. Kobayashi’s face contained two sagging cheeks, bigger than D-cup breasts, and a series of neck rolls which built in circumference as they flopped onto the space just above where her breasts divided. “Uh. . .hey. . .Tohru.” Kobayashi said sheepishly, struggling to lift a hand so thick with fat that it more so resembled a paw. It slapped back down onto her gut, forcing another window shaking belch.

“Ko. . .bay. .yaaassshhiiii!” Tohru adjusted quickly as she spoke. She now understood Ilulu’s comment. She ran forward, slowly thumping across the room. Kobayahsi’s entire body undulated, rising and falling like rain water collected in a bucket. The mattress sagged further as Tohru’s weight was added to it. Fat met fat in a collision which sprayed sweat into the air. “Ooooh, how chubby and wonderful you are.” Tohru nuzzled in, her legs straddling her master’s bulk. She gyrated upon the plain of fate, excitedly acquainting herself with every new fold and crease. “Sccchoo heavy and perfect! Ooooh, I did not know I was going to come back to such a cutie.” Tohru nuzzled and licked her redheaded master’s cheeks, tasting the sweet remains of candy feasts. “Big-bayashi has developed a sweet tooth!”

“Uh. . .yeah. . .something like that.” Kobayashi tried to speak through her rolls and face being played with. “I was a little sad you were gone and. . .BBWWURRRUUUUP!” Kobayashi belched as Tohru, invigorated at hearing she was missed, buried herself into her master’s flab. Kobayashi’s explanation of events was cut short, whole words omitted, as more and more of her rolls were pushed up into her face. Tohru’s hugging and snuggling pushed and shoved Kobayahsi’s chin folds over her lips, even one of her breasts being dumped over her mouth. The dragon continued holding and fondling the recesses of Kobayashi’s creases, plumbing the ever-so-slightly-sweaty depths. Tohru’s green tail, thick with her own accumulated heft, slapped around Kobayashi to generate even more ripples. The bed shook and squealed under the movements of the two hefty women, posts digging into the floor. Kobayashi had become so fat that the springs and frame warped and crumbled under her. Her voluminous ass hung only a foot from the ground, waiting for the bed to collapse entirely.

“I don’t even care how it happened!” Tohru’s kisses continued to flood in. She let Kobyashi’s fat go, letting it slump down in one burst of supreme, gravity affected fatness. An avalanche of fat poured out, resuming its natural hanging and bulging. At the summit of the sloping mounds lay Kobayashi’s face, embarrassed at having let herself go but not exactly hating the feeling of benign fawned over.

“She likes candy.” Ilulu added from her post by the door. She reached down, grabbing a grocery bag full of sweets from the store she worked at. Instantly Kobayashi’s mood changed as she heard the rustle of the feeding bag. From embarrassed to alert and hungry, the immobile woman tracked Ilulu’s movements. “I don’t see what the big deal is, though. She’s still smaller than a dragon.” The disinterested chaos dragon said, hefting the sack above her head. “Seems like she is going to fit in fine with you all now.” Kobayashi opened her mouth, waiting like an animal at the zoo for sweet treats and specially made candies. Ilulu was about to start pouring the bag when her hand was caught. Tohru’s eyes blazed, her hair standing on end.

“I’ll feed Miss Kobayashi.”

“Sure.” Ilulu said, quietly handing the bag over and walking out of the room. As a piece of final advice, Ilulu turned and said: “She likes the pink pieces the best.” The door closed shortly thereafter.

“Noooow, Miss Kobayashiiii, where were we!” Tohru said, quickly assuming a feeder’s position at the head of the bed. She started to pour, bringing that which Kobayashi desired more than anything to her once again. While it was demeaning, Kobayashi bounced to the extent she was able. Just like when she was drunk, her mind was overwritten by her innate desires. She longed to have her mouth filled with the candy, to feel the explosions of sugar and calories. Her fingers, thicker than sausages, groped and stroked her belly. Curtains of bicep flap shook upon the broad expanse of her side rolls, breasts sliding under her arms slightly. Though she would never admit it, the feeling of Tohru’s own gut pressing into hers made the feeding all the more enjoyable. She could feel the intense happiness that it brought Tohru, a much more welcome change from Ilulu’s emotionless feedings. The bag was put to her lips and she began to eat using only her mouth. She chomped and slurped, messily working her way through the candy. Warmth spread across her immobile body.

“Mmmppghgh. . . .oorrrummmpggh. . .fasschter. . .mmpgghp. . .Tohru.” Kobayashi directed, sloppily munching. Tohru, well experienced thanks to her Vegas trip, happily adjusted her feeding. She knew how to treat a hungry lady. She would feed Kobayashi this candy, then see if there was any beer in the fridge.