It was about three o’clock in the afternoon in the small town of Potch—just about time to wake up and start the day for Pete. The enormous lion snored like a thunderstorm in his bed until the sunlight finally hit his eye. Barely awake but still too lazy to move, he lay under the covers rubbing his belly.
“Good morning, beautiful. I guess I should probably get up, eh?” he said to his gut, which rumbled in agreement. With a chuckle and a heave, he rolled his massive form out of bed and, before anything else, thundered his way across his small home toward the kitchen for breakfast.
“Oh, damn it all,” he said with a sigh. He could tell from the doorway that the shelves of his modest kitchen were all bare; ravaged by a massive feast the previous night. Another trip to the market was in store. “I guess have to put something on.”
With a frown, he waddled back to his bedroom and picked up a massive pair of tattered shorts from the dirty clothes hamper on the floor. “Eh, this should be enough…” he grunted, heading for the door while pulling the fabric over his massive shifting rear.
The summer sun was a stark contrast to his dimly-lit home. Never much for the outdoors, going to the store to stock up on food was one of the few things Pete ever left his home for. Despite his eagerness to get home and eat, his nearly six-hundred-pound body kept him moving at a snail’s pace—and had him sweating profusely within minutes.
These weekly trips were generally uneventful. Since he had few friends to speak of in this boring town, there wasn’t much to stop him getting his errand done as fast as his struggling legs could carry him. Today, though, just a few blocks from the market in the public square, he spotted a crier addressing a small crowd of people. Still driven by hunger, Pete was not interested enough to stop and listen, but at the lumbering speed he was traveling, he had no choice but to get an earful of the announcement.
“As many of you are aware, King Isaac passed away several weeks ago,” he announced. “As he did not name an heir before his passing, the Royal Court has deferred their crowning of a new King to the traditional method of crowning a new King. Therefore, I’ve been instructed to come here as I have to all towns in Debury to recruit potential applicants for this process. All willing males weighing five hundred pounds or more are able to take part. Be there anyone in Potch who meets these requirements?”
The crowd began murmuring and looking around for anyone to speak up. “No one?” the crier said. “No one is willing? What of you there, in the back?” he shouted, pointing towards Pete.
The lion stopped, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Wha—me?”
“Yes, you appear to be of the largest men among these good people. Will you not take up this task for Debury?
His eyes widened. “Well, uh, I…” he stammered, speechless at the proposition. Secluded as his life was, Pete wasn’t even aware that the King had passed away until that moment.
“I understand the enormity of this proposition, sir, but unfortunately, given the circumstances we have no choice but to approach citizens such as yourself. We need as many applicants as possible in order to find the perfect man for the job.”
“Well, what exactly would I have to do? If I said yes, that is…” Pete shifted his weight a bit, not used to standing for this long.
“You would simply be transported to the capital and required to take a series of tests that would judge your ability to serve as our King. All of your expenses would be covered for that week, naturally.”
Tests? He wanted to say no. He’d never wanted to do much aside from eat; this was like asking him to move the earth itself. But he couldn’t just walk away—practically the entire town was staring at him, waiting for him to say something. “E-even meals?” Pete asked sheepishly, his stomach still growling.
“Of course,” the crier chuckled. “All your food would be prepared by the Royal Chefs. All you can eat.”
Oh man, that is tempting, he thought. All of Pete’s meals were either delivered or clumsily self-prepared. It would be nice to have a fancy meal for once. I suppose that might make up for having to take tests…
“O-okay. I suppose I’ll go,” he said finally. The crowd smiled and approached him, patting him on the back.
“Splendid!” The crier pulled from his bag an envelope as he walked towards the lion. “In here is your train ticket and some directions. Just hand it to the conductor and he’ll know what to do. Please make sure you board the train to the Capital exactly one month from today.”
Pete nodded dumbly and stared at the envelope. It was gold-trimmed and made of very heavy paper; possibly the most expensive thing he’d ever touched.
What have I gotten myself into…
~( . )~
The following month, the reality of Pete’s pressured decision was beginning to set in. Armed with only a small bag containing some essentials, he slowly made his way to the Potch train station. As he passed through the town, passers-by stopped to wish him luck, patting him on his belly. Pete could only respond with a nervous smile.
This was going to be the first time Pete would leave his hometown. His parents never traveled and by the time he was old enough to on his own, he was too fat and lazy to even have interest—in anything, for that matter. He had only heard tales of the Capital from people he passed in town, but that was pretty much it. He had no knowledge of the king or government, and definitely didn’t much care . At least he knew he’d be getting a free week’s worth of food.
Arriving at the station, he spotted the long, brown train idling at the platform. Outside one of the cars, a short, portly man in a fancy hat was waiting.
“S’cuse me,” the lion mumbled, pulling the envelope from his bag. “I was told to give this to you.”
“Oh! I was told we might be having a candidate from Potch on this trip. You’re just in time. Please, follow me!”
The uniformed conductor motioned Pete in, leading him down the narrow sleeping-carriage hallway, almost with a bounce in his step.
“Here you are, sir,” he announced, turning to the lion. “This is your room for our trip to the capital. I’ve been instructed to inform our crew of your presence and we will be happy to take care of your every need.”
Pete blinked. “My every… Like what?”
“Anything you desire, sir,” he replied with a glowing smile. “We will gladly bring any meal to your cabin, tidy up anything… anything you’d like.”
“Oh, well… thanks.” Pete was still a bit dumbfounded. The conductor took a quick bow and shuffled off. The lion waddled into the cabin, his gut pressing against the door frame. Throwing his small bag on the seat, he slowly lowered his wide rear down onto the bench.
The cabin and the decorations around him were probably worth more than everything Pete owned. The seat beneath him was plush leather and for once wasn’t straining beneath his weight, the wood was high-quality and polished, and the bedding luxurious to the touch. He had never been anywhere so… rich, before. He felt very out of place.
The train soon was underway and slowly crept away from Potch. Pete gazed out the window, watching the only town he’d ever known fading into the distance, replaced by the endless farmland that covered Debury.
“Uhm, excuse me, sir.” A young, uniformed boy rapped on the door frame, knocking Pete out of his short daydream. “Can I get you anything?”
Pete blushed. “Oh, no that’s alright I—” Pete started, suddenly interrupted by an enormously loud stomach growl. He hadn’t eaten since morning and had been too nervous to notice until now. “Er, well…”
With a delighted chuckle, the attendant handed Pete a substantial menu which the lion flipped through, ordering a few things. And then a few more things. Why not, he thought. That’s why he was here, anyhow. He had never ordered such fancy food before. Sometimes he got cheap delivery food, but usually he prepared his own meals, and because of his size and clumsiness, they never really turned out very good. He deserved to be treated for once.
Not long after the cheerful lad took his order, there was a knock on his compartment door. Too hungry to get up, he shouted for his guest to just come inside.
The door slid open, revealing a tall wolf fellow in a clean white chef’s uniform. “Oho! You’re much bigger than I expected,” the chef chuckled, holding onto the lidded serving tray in his hands. “Can’t say I expected someone from such a small town to be so big!”
Pete blushed. Word really traveled fast through this long train. Did everyone on board know he was a candidate already? “Heh, thanks, I suppose.”
The chef laughed, setting the tray down on the table in front of him. “I mean it, big guy. I live in the Capital and I sure haven’t seen a lad as big as you before.” He turned to the hall, grabbing more trays from his cart. “Sure glad to see you eatin’ big!”
“It’s pretty normal to me, I guess,” Pete replied, eyeing the trays of food.
“Sure is great to hear that, big fella. We’re countin’ on guys like you to do us proud,” the chef smiled, holding a serving tray to his chest. “A lot of us folks depend on the King.”
“Oh, well… I’ll do what I can…”
“Don’t hold back, big guy,” the chef smiled, patting the lion’s belly. “I’ll cook whatever you want for the rest of the trip if you promise me that much.”
Pete pulled the lid off of one of the trays, revealing a big, steaming steak. “You’ve got a deal.”
~( . )~
The rest of Pete’s two-day journey passed quickly. He took full advantage of the free room service, ordering five or six meals per day. Travelers and employees alike passed through his cabin to cheer him on. They asked questions, offered their support, even rubbed his belly for good luck. The immense lion was quickly beginning to feel like some kind of celebrity.
It was somewhat unusual for someone like Pete to witness such a thing. Almost every person in Debury had grown fat on the spoils of their wealthy nation, but few to the extent that he had. Because agriculture was such an important aspect to this wealth, manual labor was still required of the majority of citizens. Parents who had children traditionally kept them fit until they became adults so they would grow up able-bodied and with a strong work ethic.
Pete’s mother, on the other hand, loved to spoil her son. She knew all the secrets to the calorie-dense cooking that Debury was known for and wasted no time introducing her creations to her family. Pete grew up eating four to five meals a day between home-schooling from his mother, and as a result he ballooned to nearly 450lbs by the time most young men began joining the workforce.
His father insisted, at this point, on him moving out and getting a job. With no choice, he found a small apartment in town, but his mother was not yet ready to let go. Secretly, she sent him money on a weekly basis to pay for food and thus, Pete’s weight continued to increase.
And so now, at nearly 600 pounds, the lion who never contributed to society in any form was now being celebrated for his efforts—or lack thereof. Though, given his upbringing, Pete was used to being spoiled.
By the time the train began to arrive in the Capital, Pete was already beaming with self esteem from his compliment-filled journey—and probably already twenty pounds heavier from the pampering. Stepping off into the enormous central station, he was greeted with a portly, suited husky who took him to a carriage waiting outside.
The sun was setting and the gaslights around the town were beginning to light up. The two overly-muscled steeds pulling the cart had little trouble with their heavy cargo—just another example of the specialized breeding that made Debury so wealthy. The closer one traveled to the castle, the more evidence of this wealth is made apparent. Pete had no idea what to expect.
Hopping down from the carriage at the castle, Pete stood mouth agape at the sheer size of the building. It loomed over the town in quite a spectacular fashion, taking up more than five city blocks. Despite how late it was becoming, the windows were still lit up with the activities that went on inside. Pete could even hear the clanging of pots in the massive kitchen that must be housed there.
The two of them made their way up the small staircase and in the massive double doors of the front gate. He was quickly hurried to the main desk by his husky assistant.
“You here for the Selection?” the spectacled fox blurted without looking up from his work.
“Uhm, yeah, I suppose so. My name is Pete—”
“I know who y’are. You’re the last one to sign in. Take him to guest room 23, boy,” he waved his pencil toward the large hall to the right.
Before he knew it, Pete was once again hurried along by the husky down the massive stone halls of the castle. The ceilings above him were at least 30 feet high, and everything was made of the finest materials. Every inch of the massive structure was made with such care and detail; it was like nothing Pete had ever seen. So much money was spent on the King and his castle, Pete had never seen such expense.
As his eyes darted around, he spotted a bannered hall with a large golden plaque above it that read “Royal Portrait Gallery.” Pete was very curious about the previous kings, as most citizens were. Very few citizens ever saw their King in person is person, as he rarely if ever left the castle. Most only knew tales of how fat the King grew on the spoils of the land, so Pete was eager to see how plump these Kings got.
Arching his neck to peer down the hall, Pete caught sight of a portrait for the briefest moment. What he saw was an immense mountain of a flesh, barely recognizable as having any form at all, but sporting the proudest grin he’d ever seen. Pete’s eyes were fixed, but just as soon as he caught sight of the King, he was once again pushed along.
“Come now, sir, there are many preparations to be done tonight. I’m afraid we must ask you to remain in your room until tomorrow morning.”
Pete relented to his surprisingly forceful assistant. His body shivered with the thought of just how that King was. No man could ever achieve such a size; it’s just not physically possible, is it? Either way, he was dying to return to that hall and see for himself.
Finally arriving at his chambers, he finds that his room for the week is just as expertly crafted as the rest of the castle, particularly his bed. The enormous room was at least twice the size of his apartment. Momentarily distracted, he plopped himself onto the bed without a noticeable crash—finally a bed big and strong enough to support his weight!
“Is there anything we can get for you before we take our leave, sir?”
The image of King Isaac was still swirling around Pete’s head. He was starting to think that he was exaggerating or even imagining the body he saw, but either way it made him very hungry. “Uhm, where can I get something to eat?”
“Since we need to you remain in your room, sir, we will gladly bring you any room service you require.”
“Anything?”
“Anything you crave, sir.”
Pete grinned. It was going to be a good week.
~( . )~
The next day was the beginning of the selection process. Pete, as well as every other portly candidate, was shuffled around the castle for the first exams, which were simply various physicals and medical checkups. They were drilled on their food allergies, any illnesses or disabilities, family medical history and any other relevant aspect of their health. The qualifications for a King are very thorough, though not necessarily very strict. Good candidates merely need to want and be able to eat any food without hindrance and not have or have a history of certain weight-related illnesses.
Pete sat in yet another check-up room, waiting for his final examination for the evening. It had been a long day of wandering about the castle from room to room and his legs were certainly feeling the stress. Normally the longest he’d ever had to walk was to the market and back, and even then he took breaks several times along the way.
Still, it was worth it. He got whatever he wanted for breakfast and lunch and made sure to gorge himself thoroughly. It felt like he had already gained even more weight on the calorie-dense food the castle provided. He patted his shirtless gut in satisfaction.
“Oho, well aren’t you a big fella,” a deep voice boomed from across the room. An enormous gorilla in a long white lab coat closed the door behind him. His arms were long, extending down almost to his knees and massively muscled. Pete had never seen a muscular guy in person before, but this guy was bigger than anything he’d even seen pictures of. He lumbered towards Pete, who shook himself out of his staring. “Eating well, I hope?” he chuckled.
“Heh, how can I not in this place?” Pete laughed nervously, suddenly noticing a portly assistant standing next to the gorilla, scribbling onto a clipboard.
“That’s good to hear, Mister… erm, Pete. Wouldn’t want anyone to lose weight in this castle. Now, I imagine you’re probably sick of these exams by this point in the day, but this one won’t take long. It’s more of an informal examination. I’m just here to make some… observations.”
Pete nodded, curious about the massive gorilla’s vagueness.
“Now, if you would just hop down and pull your pants down for me.”
Without thinking, Pete obeyed and shucked off his shorts, his eyes fixed on the gorilla’s massive form.
“Heh, and eager, too. Now, just relax,” he said softly as his enormous hands touched Pete’s full belly. As they made contact, the lion felt his face turn red. Something about this situation felt very erotic, but the massive gorilla’s charming attitude kept him from saying anything.
Pete closed his eyes as the gorillas hands moved around Pete’s enormous belly. The hands stopped in places, pressing softly into his fat, hefting his gut in his hands, examining every inch of his body. “Nice, very dense, somewhat firm… not too sagging…” the deep voice mumbled. Pete could hear his assistant across the room scribbling down notes as he spoke.
He moved slowly around behind the lion, his hands slowly moving down around Pete’s enormous butt. “Hmm… very bottom-heavy, this one. Hips are much wider than his back…” the gorilla said. “Probably going to need a wider throne if this one gets picked.” Pete blushed in reaction. Was this a good or bad thing?
For several minutes the gorilla very closely examined Pete like a piece of livestock, though his comments and soft touch made it feel more like a gentle massage. It was odd how focused and meticulous he was about the whole ordeal, but Pete loved the attention too much to care. Still, he hoped those wandering hands wouldn’t notice the throbbing erection under his belly.
“Well, Mr. Lion,” the gorilla announced suddenly as he stood up. “You’ve got quite an impressive body, there. Usually men of your size aren’t quite so well-proportioned. You certainly seem proud of that, hm?”
Pete blushed. Did he notice?
“Well then, that’s all I needed. Best of luck to you,” he said with a small grin.
That night, back in his chambers, Pete enjoyed another large meal after a long day of physicals. He reclined in his bed, rubbing his swollen gut.
“Well, it’s not as relaxing as I was hoping, but even still I think I’ve already put on some weight…” Suddenly reminded of that portrait in the hall, his stomach growled. “But not enough, I agree!” he replied, ringing for room service once again.
~( . )~
The next morning, there was a knock on Pete’s chamber door. Pete grumpily woke up and answered, expecting room service bringing a late breakfast as they usually do. Instead, though, stood his husky assistant.
“Good, er, afternoon, sir,” he said, eyes darting down at Pete’s exposed belly. “I’m afraid I must tell you we are beginning the next test starting right now.”
“Right now? What do I have to do?”
“Well, nothing actually. I’m afraid I must require that you do nothing until tomorrow afternoon.”
“Huh, okay… could I get some breakfast then?”
“Uhm, no actually, sir. Tomorrow afternoon, we will be testing your appetite and metabolism with an enormous feast… but until then, to get a good impression of them, we’re requiring all our candidates to fast. The kitchen is unfortunately closed as a result, today.”
Pete felt his skin go pale. “No… no food? For how long, a whole day?”
“Yes sir.”
“But I’ve never gone more than a few hours without eating something! And I’m already starving!” he panicked.
“We’ll be keeping a close eye on you, sir. Don’t worry, it will be worth the wait, I promise,” the assistant patted Pete’s belly and waddled off.
“A whole day? I can’t believe this…” Pete slinked back into his room and flopped onto his bed. His whole plan of eating as much as possible was ruined. His stomach growled loudly in agreement. Too hungry and disappointed to move, he fell back asleep.
Later that day, he was summoned to a meeting with a handful of judges. In an extremely sour mood, he trudged behind his assistant with a scowl on his face until they reached the meeting room.
“Here we are sir… These are some top Royal advisors, so, uhm, try to endure, yeah?”
Pete’s stomach rumbled angrily and his scowl deepened, and he waddled through the door, his love handles brushing the frame. Inside, he was met with several portly stiff-looking men, as well as two enormously bulky figures—one of whom was the gorilla from the previous day!
“Have a seat, Mr. Lion,” the gorilla grinned.
“Is everything all right?” one of the stiffs asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Just hungry, sir,” Pete replied bluntly.
The man looked at his watch. “It’s only been five hours since the start of the fast—”
Pete’s stomach interrupted with an almost exaggerated noise and he hunched over. Each of them was eyeing him over, making the atmosphere pretty tense. Still, they proceeded to ask him the set questions—why are you here, do you think you’re qualified to be King—each of which he only barely responded to, due to his mood and hunger.
Soon enough Pete was excused from the room. He could tell the judges had a low impression of him, but because of his hunger, he couldn’t really care. He’d never been so hungry before; it was a horrible sensation. Lurching over to a nearby balcony, he sat and pondered cutting his losses and leaving early.
“What’s wrong, Mr. Lion?” a voice appeared from nowhere. Suddenly, the gorilla doctor sat down next to him. “You’re not the proud lion I saw yesterday.”
Pete blushed as the gorilla’s hand rested on his shoulder. “I, uh… I don’t know, I’m just dying to get some food.” Pete’s stomach moaned in a deep rumble.
“To be so starving after just a few hours… that’s a sign of a good eater!” The gorilla put a hand on Pete’s rumbling belly and rubbed until the noise stopped. Pete’s face flushed red, but enjoyed the familiar touch too much to say anything.
“But, I think there’s more to it than that. You genuinely don’t seem interested in winning this competition. How could you not want to? Don’t you know what the King does?”
Pete thought for a moment. He’d never actually read about King Isaac before… not even a picture. “I suppose not… I assumed he had a lot of meetings and did a lot of paperwork and other work…”
The gorilla smirked, and then let out a loud chuckle. “You’re serious, aren’t you? That’s incredible… you came all this way just for, what, some free food then?”
Pete blushed deeper. “I mean, I never went to school or anything, I don’t really keep up with politics and stuff…”
The gorilla shook his head and continued rubbing the lion’s gut. “The King of Debury’s job, Mr. Lion, is to eat. To eat and be fat. For us. He is the physical manifestation this country’s wealth: the more we produce, the bigger he gets. When ambassadors from other countries come to make trade deals and such and see how big just one man can grow on the wealth of our nation, they cannot doubt our influence. The fatter you’d get, the better off we would be as a whole.”
“Wow…” Pete mumbled, looking down at his curiously quiet gut. Reminded of the happy, encouraging passengers on his train ride to the Capital, he smiled to himself.
“That’s why this competition is so important. We need someone who wants nothing more than to eat. Someone who is proud of their size, but always wants more. Someone like you. Can’t you imagine how big you could be if you had nothing to do but eat? If the entire nation was cheering you on?”
Suddenly he remembered—the hall of portraits! “I did catch a glimpse of a painting of someone… but I couldn’t find any time to look at it.”
The gorilla grinned. “Sounds like just the motivation you need. But for now, you should get to sleep. You’ve got a big meal ahead of you tomorrow.”
The two of them headed back to his chambers and parted ways for the evening. Just before he left, the gorilla put his enormous hands on Pete’s shoulders.
“Thanks, uhm…”
“Logan,” the gorilla replied with a beaming smile.
“Thank you for cheering me up. Is there anything I can do to repay you?”
“Win this, Pete. Win this and I promise you won’t regret it.”
Pete’s stomach growled in agreement.
~( . )~
The next morning, Pete awoke early for the first time in his life. He rolled out of bed and peeked out the door to find his assistant was missing. Seizing the opportunity, though still weak from hunger, he snuck out of his room and finally made his way to the hall of portraits.
The hallway was two stories tall, adorned with gold and lanterns illuminating dozens of enormous portraits. Each of them depicted previous kings, who gradually grow larger in size as they become more recent. He lurched his way to the one he first caught glimpse of—the most recent King, King Isaac.
What he saw first didn’t appear to be a man, but a mountain. His face was barely recognizable beneath all of the fat that surrounded it. Every body part was exaggerated hundreds of pounds heavier. It was mesmerizing; Pete stood for what seemed like ages, just examining every inch of him.
“Logan told me you might be here,” a voice once again appeared from behind him.
Pete turned to see the bull from the meeting yesterday looking up at the same portrait. “Impressive, isn’t it?”
“I, uh, yeah… I never knew men could get so big… it should be impossible!”
The bull chuckled. “Not with the life he had, that’s for sure.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ol’ Isaac kept us workin’, I’ll tell ya. He was the biggest glutton I’ve ever worked for—when he wasn’t asleep, he was eatin’. We had to expand the kitchen to keep up the demand he put on us, it was quite a sight. Made me proud to be a Deburian.”
Pete’s stomach growled in lust.
“He was a real pig. That’s what we need in his successor.” The bull groped Pete’s rear softly. “You wanna be that big, don’tcha?
His stomach growled again, but louder.
“Heh, that’s a yes.” The flirty bull slipped his arms around Pete’s waist and shook his belly a bit. “You’ve got potential, big guy, but this poor thing is so small… it’s not even touching the floor!”
Pete moaned, stumbling over his words. “I, uhm… I don’t kn…”
“You don’t have to say anything, fatso. I just need ya to show us what you can do. Prove to me ‘n Logan that you’re a real hog.”
Pete gulped, drooling a bit.
“C’mon. It’s time to eat.”
The bull scooted Pete along towards the dining hall for the third test, teasing him with tidbits of life as King to egg him on. When they reached the massive double doors, Pete was so aroused and hungry he couldn’t see straight.
Before he opened the door, he turned to the bull. “W-wait, who are you? Why are you guys doing this for me?”
The bull grinned. “My name’s Bruno. If you win, me ‘n Logan will be your right-hand men. And we’re very picky.” He winked and pushed Pete towards the door.
On the other side was the enormous Royal Dining Hall, its table stretching down into the distance for ages, and every inch of it was loaded with freshly cooked food. Chefs and servants lined the edges, waiting eagerly, and the aroma of all the freshly-cooked food wafted to Pete’s nose, nearly knocking him over.
“Is this… real? I’m not just seeing things right?” Pete moaned, suddenly remembering how hungry he was.
His assistant chuckled. “It’s very much real, sir, and it’s all for you. All we ask is that you remain on this bench while you eat. It is connected to a scale so that we can get an indication of your true capacity.”
Pete wiped the drool from his lips and hopped onto the bench. The needle on the scale shot up to 620 pounds, revealing he still maintained his weight gain despite the fasting. A bit overwhelmed by the selection in front of him, he didn’t know where to begin, but once the first bit of food touched his lips, he dove right in. Motivated by the idea of becoming a mountain of fat like King Isaac, he pushed food into his mouth for hours, lost in the urge to fill his empty stomach. Servants eagerly brought food down the table to him so he wouldn’t have to move, only pausing to inhale and occasionally belch.
Two hours passed, and Pete began to finally slow down. His face and chest were coated in sauce and crumbs, and his belly was so distended that he could barely reach the table. Even still, the portly chefs and servants handed him food until he couldn’t force another bit down his throat. Full to the brim, Pete slumped back and looked up with glazed eyes at the scale. 679 pounds. He had eaten almost 60 pounds of food!
The staff crowded around Pete and the scale, murmuring about his performance. “V-very good, sir! Most impressive,” his assistant said nervously from the crowd. “You may return to your chambers if you wish, now.”
The bloated lion strained in his overloaded seat. He ate himself to the point he could barely move, not to mention his love handles made him a bit stuck. “I, uh… don’t think I—”
“Allow us,” Bruno chirped from behind him with an evil grin.
~( . )~
Logan and Bruno hefted Pete out of his seat and wrapped his arms around their neck. They slowly made their way out of the dining hall, leaving the staff to their gossiping. The three of them waddled down the wide corridors of the castle, chuckling at Pete’s contented moans.
“Did I… do good?” Pete mumbled.
“I’d say so!” Bruno replied, playfully shaking Pete’s distended belly jiggling a few feet ahead of them.
“Does that mean… I might win?”
Logan chuckled. “So you actually want to win now?” he sneered as he pushed Pete’s chamber doors open. “Food musta been good.”
The two muscled servants lay the bloated lion on his bed. As he rubbed his swollen gut, Pete smiled. “I want to eat like that every day… and I want to be so much bigger… so I guess I do want to win.”
“Very good. Though, I’m afraid we’re not quite as decided,” the gorilla said, crossing his arms.
“W-what do you mean? I thought the reason you guys helped me was beca—”
“You do have potential, but I’m afraid our motives weren’t entirely selfless.”
“Y’see, King Isaac was more than just a glutton… he was a real pig. The reason he grew so large was because he was constantly turned on by himself. And we, as his trusty servants, rose through the ranks because he would let us do whatever we wanted to satisfy him. That became one of his biggest motivations for growing, especially when he got too big to do anything by himself.”
“So, we think the best kings are ones like him, who get off on that stuff. Plus, we don’t want a boring old stiff running things. We wouldn’t get to do what we want anymore.”
Pete blinked. “Is that all? That sounds like paradise. Nothing really turns me on more than living like a pig…”
The two men grinned at each other. “I’m afraid we can’t just take your word for it, piggy.” They began unbuttoning their clothes and undressing. “We’ll need some proof.”
Shucking off their pants, the two overly-muscled brutes revealed their equally impressive packages. Bruno’s member fell down to his knees, but was of an impossible thickness, which weighed it down despite becoming visibly erect before Pete’s eyes. Logan’s, on the other hand, hung down to his ankles and throbbed higher and prouder until it reached between the center of his swollen pecs.
“Only a true pig could handle these,” the grinning gorilla boasted. “Now what will you do?”
Rolling off the bed, Pete crawled over to Logan, eyes fixed on his massive rod. On his knees, he wrapped his gaping, drooling mouth around the end of it, letting out a low moan.
“He is an eager pig, isn’t he?” Bruno snorted as he wandered around towards Pete’s massive backside. “Didn’t even object…”
“Not bad…” the gorilla moaned.
Pete grunted, scooting closer to stuff more into his mouth, his belly pressing against the gorilla’s thick legs, straining as he leaned forward to get more.
“Heh, seems like piggy can’t reach over his own fat gut. Now what will you do—ooooohhh….”
Pete hefted up his massive, sweaty moobs around the gorilla’s shaft, surrounding his member from all ends.
Bruno laughed as he probed the lion’s massive, sweaty hole with his plump fingers. “He’s not too much for ya, is he Logie?”
“Aahhh, now this is a pig,” he snarled back.
“We’ll see. It takes quite an ass to handle this,” the bull grunted as he hefted his thick meat up onto Pete’s ass, rubbing it across Pete’s twitching, sweaty hole. “Mm, the real pigs make their own lube for me.”
Pete let out a low, muffled moan as Bruno slid his log-thick meat into Pete’s eager hole with little trouble.
“Ooooh man… yeah, this is niiice,” he roared, grabbing Pete’s massive butt cheeks in his hands. “Nice and wide, this dirty pig’s played with his hole a lot, I can tell.”
“Mm, he’s had quite a bit in this big mouth too, it looks like. I think we may need to really see what he can do.”
“Oh, I know what you’re thinkin’. He’s got plenty of room to spare back here.
Logan pulled out of Pete’s drooling mouth and led him over to his bed. Lying down on his back at the edge of the bed, he pointed to his throbbing, wet member.
“Sit, you fucking hog.”
Without a second thought, Pete dumbly climbed onto the bed and positioned his big rear over the gorilla’s cock and lowered himself onto it. Straining to keep his massive weight in the air, his fur became soaked with sweat, dripping down from every bit of his flesh.
“Heh, would you look at this filthy animal? This is probably the most work he’s ever done in his life,” Bruno laughed, approaching from behind him again.
“Good, that’s how I like’m. Lazy, fat and selfish,” Logan grunted as he thrusted his hips up into the lion’s ass, bouncing every bit of his fat with each slap. “Now give it to’m.”
“You got it.” Bruno squatted behind the two of them off the edge of the bed and aimed for Pete’s stuffed hole again. Pressing it above the gorilla’s meat, he forced his way slowly into the throbbing hole, gripping onto Pete’s sides.
Pete let out a loud, deep moan as his fat ass was stretched to new limits. His eyes glazed over as they both began trusting into him, heaving his massive body into the air. Sweat and drool rained from his fur down onto the gorilla.
“Now THIS is a pig!” he shouted, digging into Pete’s fat crotch and grabbing his cock. “Look at how hard you are, you slutty hog. You’ll let two guys fuck the daylights out of you just so you can be fatter, huh?”
Pete moaned louder and louder, unable to speak through his heaving breaths.
“C’mon, piggy. Show us how much you wanna be king,” Bruno demanded, reaching up to Pete’s nipples and squeezing them.
“Show us!” Logan added, clamping his hand down on Pete’s cock.
Pete collapsed onto Logan, forcing every inch of the massive cocks into his ass and letting out a moan that rattled the walls. His own throbbing cock shot thick seed past the gorilla’s head and splattered his chest. The servants followed suit, filling their new pig with their hot seed.
Pete wobbled, still dripping with sweat, before falling to the side onto the bed. With one last moan, the servants both pulled out of his ass, leaving a steady stream of semen behind them. Chuckling to themselves, they left the bloated lion on his bed naked, ass in the air and went to put their uniforms back on.
“Did… did I pass?” he panted.
As the two hulking beasts approached his chamber door, they turned, fell to one knee and bowed their heads. “Consider the crown yours, your highness.”
~( . )~
“Sir… sir! Wake up, we need to get ready.”
Pete grumbled and rubbed his eyes. “Wha… huh, another test?”
“No, sir. Testing is over. Been over for almost two days now, actually.”
“Wh-what? I was sleeping this whole time? Did I miss anything important?”
“I’ll explain on the way, sir. Put this on, we need to get going.”
Pete’s husky assistant tossed him a fancy-looking set of clothes and led him out of his chambers.
“C’mon man, what’s going on?” Pete moaned, slipping his arms into the shirt given to him.
“Tonight is the crowning, sir. While you were out, deliberations began and lasted up until about an hour ago. Practically the entire staff was there giving their votes. Mr. Bruno and Mr. Logan made a pretty convincing case for you, by the way. You must have made a good impression on them.”
Pete chuckled nervously, “I suppose… where are we going, anyway?”
“To the crowning. The townspeople have all gathered in the courtyard to hear the announcement.”
“Wait, what? Now? The crowning is gonna be right now?”
“Yes, sir. We need to begin fattening the new king as soon as possible. This country needs a figurehead; I’m surprised we’ve lasted as long as we have without one, frankly. But, thankfully, that time is finally over.”
“So, wait, who’d they pick?”
The husky turned and smiled. “Come, sir. We’re going to be late.”
They arrived at another set of double doors, this time opening to the outside cortyard. The warm evening air rushed past, carrying the murmurs of a large crowd and the speech given by the same crier that approached Pete back in Potch.
“…And so, the Royal Selection Committee, after much deliberation, chose the man they consider to be the most physically and mentally suited to be our next king. Someone who—ah, what a pleasure it is to see you again, mister lion.”
Pete stopped dead in his tracks, looking over the crowd of hundreds ahead of him.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the crier continued with a grin, “it is with great pleasure that I introduce a man described as having no other desire but to eat and grow for us—our new Deburian King: King Pete!”
The crowd erupted in a small cheer, sending chills down Pete’s spine. From behind, Bruno and Logan appeared with a robe and crown, placing them atop the speechless lion.
“Anything to say, Your Highness?” the crier chuckled.
Pete fumbled over his words, his eyes tearing up a bit. “I, uh, well—” he stuttered, suddenly interrupted by the growling of his two-day-empty stomach echoing across the crowd.
“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear!” the crier laughed, inciting cheers from the crowd. “Now, everyone, the time of uncertainty is over! With our new king, we shall once again prove to the world that we are the most influential nation of all! But first, we must do to this man what we have done to every king before him. Let the celebration begin!”