<<Looking Prosperous, Dear Brother | I'm too Big to Fail, Dear Brother>>


In business you need to be prepared for anything, for you never know- Wait, wasn't this said before? Well, in business consistency is everything, and in Scar's case, the only consistent thing has been his insane, ravenous hunger. Still left humiliated after his failed attempt to take down his brother with a weight gain serum that quite literally blew up his own face, Scar is left chewing the fat at his private beach house for his first ever vacation, however mandatory his company's board made it be. But after a chance talk with his older brother, the devious lion suddenly realizes a terrible fat err, fate is in store for him as he learns there is much more to the original serum than he had previously known. This post was also made in honour of the Lion King's 30th Anniversary, so good timing I find.


.:Rated general for:.
>Gluttony
>>Aggressive Hunger
>>Extreme Overeating
>Belching
>Slow WG
>Rapid WG
>>Growth
>>Macro
>>Minor Slob
>>Building Damage from Growth
>>Blob Shape
>>Potentially Immobile


The Lion King is © Disney.


Word Count: 7316

If you enjoyed the story, feel free to comment and fave, I'd really appreciate it.

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I'm too Big to Fail, Dear Brother

Business is wont to stop for no one, even when business dictates one must take an emergency stay of vacation for “health reasons”. The real reason, of course, was that like clockwork, Scar’s grand scheme of getting at his older brother Mufasa had blown up in his face. Well, rather it had blown up his face, to say the least. His scheme of putting that smug bastard out of commission with a rapid weight gain solution had been turned against him, turning a meeting between two brothers into “The Night of Long Thighs”. His trim figure had been completely buried under an avalanche of flab, transfiguring the lion from peak physical form into a small Hindenburg. And even after he had gotten his wardrobe up to date to match his new corpulence, Scar had gotten coerced into getting out of public view by his own damn board! “A vacation would be good for you and err uhh the company’s public relations, so to speak. We can’t let this situation spiral out of control, unlike your uhhh BMI, especially after the serum was also used by your brother. Factually speaking, it’d be best errrr if both of you disappeared until we can fabricate a decent enough story to explain your uhhh sudden change.”

Vacation, really? Banished to his private beach house property just to keep out of public eye! How dare they do this to him! BAM! Scar’s thick shoulders hunkered as he pulled his ham fist off the trembling set of antique drawers. “How can they do this to me?” he ruminated lividly while staring at his reflection.

Yes, he may have put on a pound or few… hundred, but what of it?! Does a voluminous stomach that could only ever be satisfied by an entire feast justify cutting him out of the equation? The lion gripped his sides through his campy Hawaiian shirt and gave it a rough jostle, his rolling middle producing a sound you’d normally find in a water mattress. And as he now thought: Does a rump so big he required the aid of a scrawny dragon to even get his underwear on disqualify him from leading? No, it doesn’t. “Why did I even think these were a good idea?” he asked himself in reference to the khaki shorts he had squeezed his batter-like thighs and ass into.

His side and back pudge cascaded over the waistband like a glorious waterfall, with the front digging just a bit into the massive overhang of his gut. And no matter how much he hiked them up he just couldn’t get his rump to stop poking out the top. A PLUMBER’S CRACK! He had a bloody plumber’s crack damn it! Plus, he was also very much aware that the tacky Hawaiian shirt that had been fitting a little loosely when he had started this vacation three days ago was already getting a bit snug as his blubber had begun poking out the underside, with the buttons starting to strain against his heft. It was even worse to think how the shirt had been made several sizes larger just to give him a little more space to grow into. The absurd look put him in mind of an upside-down cupcake. Gripping and sloshing his gut, Scar could feel the stings of his otherwise erstwhile guilty conscience gnawing at him for the excessive gluttony he had been displaying. If his personal trainer could see him now, he’d weep at what Scar had become. But it was hardly his fault when such size demanded more fuel for the engine of progress! Those idiots in the lab especially neglected to mention the increase in stomach size and capacity as well. Oh he was going to wring that giggling maniac’s neck next chance he got for that oversight. Letting himself go, his gut bounced roughly before settling as the lion wandered through the enlarged doorframe of his bedroom out into the open space of the beach house. The workmen had been quite fast, adjusting the property for his needs as there was no way in hell he would have been able to squeeze his triple-wide hips through any normal-sized door frame. At least, not without taking the frame with him….

The feline grumbled to himself as the stairs groaned in agony as he stomped down them, his voluminous figure exiting the stairwell into the hybrid kitchen/living room, where his foot brushed against one more sin to add to his laundry list. A well-to-do fat cat (metaphorically) like him had been used to the finer things in life: The highest quality steaks you had to know some very dark people to get, and wines older than his own grandfather to enjoy on a pleasant evening. But ever since he had gained all this heft, all this magnitude, this fat cat (literally) had come to terms with a food group he had ignored all his life: The convenient kind. Scar huffed loudly as he bent forward, his back straining as his gut squished against the ground in bid to grab the burger wrapper on the ground. Heaving again, the lion’s cheeks suddenly bulged. “BWWWWWWAAAAAARRRRRPPPPPP!!!”

The curtains across the room thrashed in the wind storm, only settling as he turned his head downwards, blasting the wrapper across the room and under his expensive sofa bed. Growling in exhaustion the corpulent feline groaned as he slowly straightened himself, his belly like an anchor threatening to pull him to the ground. Oh yes, it was a threat well understood as it and his behind had humiliated him that night when he had burst out of his expensive suit, and was pulled to the ground by the cruel talons of gravity. Huffing hard Scar half-walked/half-exhausted waddled to his furled sofa bed and brought his full weight upon it. The reinforced springs and legs groaned under his prodigious, five-hundred something pounds of mass. He had completely lost track of how heavy he had gotten ever since it had taken just one foot to completely smash his previous set of scales. It was all this damn convenient food he seethed while brushing a few more wrappers off the sofa. Why hadn’t anyone warned him how tasty and delicious this muck was?! Like this particular wrapper here: The one from “Big Pauly’s Burger Joint”. Scar could instantly recall the disgusting wad of cholesterol the meat-ladened burger was, dripping with oil and barbecue sauce. BARBECUE SAUCE! He HATED barbecue sauce! And yet he gleefully stuffed the thing into his mouth like his life depended on it! The very thought was positively revolting, so why was he wiping drool from his hungering lips? “Is this what Kovu does when he goes out with his little “friends” when they have their “fun”” the feline thought of his adopted son.

Kovu, the prodigal son who had also insisted he go on this vacation, mostly because “he needed it”. PAH! Scar hadn’t taken a vacation for decades; how can you when you need to keep your nose to the grindstone when it comes to business. Can’t show weakness or let up as you conquer all your company’s enemies in the pursuit of profit. Grrrrrrrrrllllllll! “Hush you” he snapped at his belly.

The hunger pangs he had been getting as of late were becoming maddening, as he could stuff himself silly with all this junk food and then, magically, he would be hungry again an hour later with nothing to show for it besides an extra chin. It’s no wonder he had been gaining so much weight as, apparently, his metabolism had gone on vacation as well. Gggggrrrrrrmmmmmbbbbllleeeee!! Sighing exhaustedly Scar huffed and puffed and grunted and strained as he pulled his massive behind off the comfy, comfy couch. His hips rocked and swayed on the journey to the kitchen, and to the extra-extra-large fridge he had had installed also in advance. Scar wasn’t much of a cook, so instead the fridge was full of prepared meals he could reheat, as well as the pizza from last night. The last box from a stack of eight. Prying open the lid, the lion was disappointed to find a single cold slice of pepperoni staring back at him. Well, it was something as he grabbed the box and the slice. The box was then lazily discarded as he scarfed down the slice, silently hating himself for enjoying the disgusting, cheap cheese and greasy meat and inadequate sauce. Ba doo ba doo~ Ba doo ba doo~ Scar’s ears pricked as he heard a call coming in from his laptop. “About time those idiots got back to me” he grumbled under his breath as he waddled on over to the dining table and his three chairs, but was disappointed to find the call coming from Mufasa. “Damn” he growled while begrudgingly hitting the green button as he sat his enormous rear down on the chairs (and even then he was still spilling out over them).

The screen flashed to a view what he was certain was his brother’s chest. “Hello little brother” came the older lion’s loud voice.

“Wrong camera you idiot!” Scar growled.

Really, he didn’t know why he bothered, but because of Mufasa’s mutually assured destruction by destroying the antidote and drinking the other half of the weight gain serum, it paid to keep tabs on him. Make him a guinea pig, of sorts. “Is this better?” the golden feline asked, the view flipping round to his fat face.

“Yes. Fine. Hello brother” the dark lion sighed with a not-so-subtle eye roll.

“How are you enjoying your vacation brother?” Mufasa chuckled as he pulled his phone away.

Man, the formerly well-built lion had really packed it on, even after the serum had basically buried it all in fat. His face was plumper than a newborn’s and his moobs so great the upper cleft were visible in the shot. “Not as much as you dear brother. It seems you’ve really let yourself go” the younger feline couldn’t help but sass.

“Oh like you can talk Mister Fatty-cake” the golden brother snorted with amusement as he took a sip from a coconut. “But hey, I’m retired now; I can afford to cut loose and have some fun” he added while eating a thick slice of pizza with dripping cheese.

“Ugh, how do you even eat that muck?” Scar said scathingly while subtly licking some sauce from his lip.

“Life’s not all high class steaks and pâté little brother” the fatter lion chuckled. “You should try and live a little! You’re on vacation brother! At least enjoy a little local custom” he insisted.

“I would rather die than subject my digestive tract to pizza and Big Pauly’s burgers” the dark feline seethed.

“Oh?” Mufasa chuckled, bringing his phone a little closer. “That’s quite specific Scar. Just who is this “Big Pauly?” he pressed.

“A disgusting burger establishment here I only barely managed to recall. And do you think Sarabi will be happy watching you stuff your face?” Scar demanded as he steered the reins of the conversation.

“Oh she loves it! I knew she was a handsy girl but I never knew how much until I gave her more to hang onto, if you catch my drift?” the older brother snickered raunchily, his thick brows wiggling knowingly.

“Ugh, spare me” the younger feline shuddered.

“Well if and when you find someone, ANYONE, to love you for you Scar, then maybe you’ll be able to relate one day” Mufasa smirked as he gobbled on some fries.

“I have a son, so a partner is irrelevant to me. He may not be my blood but he will still inherit my will and determination to ensure my life’s work doesn’t go to waste when I’m gone” Scar said proudly.

“How is Kovu? Is he still calling you “sir”?”

“Yes. I trained him well haven’t I? The best nannies money could afford and a private school education worthy of an elite” the younger brother boasted proudly.

“Yes. And he calls you, his father, “sir”” Mufasa pointed out.

“I fail to see your point brother” Scar shrugged.

“You know Scar, and I speak from experience here: Maybe, one day, it wouldn’t hurt to allow a little warmth into your life. Even just once. You’ll find life a lot more enjoyable when the world and people around you aren’t as cold and calculating as your endless lust for success” the golden feline extolled.

“I still fail to see your point brother; it would seem my way has worked quite well for me up to this point” the dark lion said dismissively.

“If you say so Scar” Mufasa shrugged, then he crammed a burger into his gob.

Scar grimaced as his brother carved through the triple-stacked burger dripping with sauce and bacon. “You’re telling me your wife is somehow perfectly fine and also aroused by you stuffing your face with disgusting food at every hour of the day?” he asked in disbelief.

“She’s not that vain, but it does help that we get to spend more time together and hey, if she digs the heft who am I to complain?” the older brother chuckled, swapping the camera view. “Look at this eh Scar? Sarabi sure loves playing Fatty-cake with alllll of this!”

Scar rolled his eyes as he was treated with a widescreen view of Mufasa’s literal hill of a belly. His golden and red fur shone in the light (aided probably by ample amounts of sweat) as he rubbed his gut with a sizeable hand. The blubber rolled like the ocean waves as he gave it a few appreciative pats. The younger brother did have to smirk a little as, even from the shoddy view of a phone, he could appreciate just how much fatter Mufasa was than he was. His belly was so gargantuan his sides were spilling over the uhh, was it a deck chair? Inside? Curious. But all that blubber was pouring over the sides of the chair. And the crown that was his enormous middle, with more creases than a well-loved book, seemed to bear a bottomless well of a bellybutton. He was an absolute balloon, and seemed to be doing everything he could to turn into a hot air balloon. Not that he needed help, given that he already was one. A hot air balloon. Because he was full of hot air, you see? “Try not to indulge too much brother, lest you get mistaken for one of the hippos you do business with” he teased.

Mufasa chuckled evenly as he flipped the camera back round, the rest of the burger vanishing into his hungry gob. “You shouldn’t joke too much Scar, because while I’m taking your insults in stride I can see you’re packing on the pudge too. Hunger pains getting to you too?” he inquired, though not meanly.

“Ugh, I won’t deny it disgusts me how much I’m eating right now. I can’t wait for those buffoons I’ve hired to engineer more of the cure so I can finally return to normal” Scar grumbled.

“Well try to enjoy it while you can. Honestly I’ve lost track of how much I’ve gained since your little scheme went belly up, but as long as I’ve got my beautiful wife by my side, and plenty of friends, and my son, I’m happy. Plus I tried a little of that hula dancing and it sure isn’t easy when my hips rock hard enough that I keep falling off the stage” Mufasa cackled.

“At least you somehow see a bright side in this abominable situation. Where is your wife anyways? I thought she’d be with you.”

“Oh well she said she wanted to take a little break from playing Fatty-cake, but she did say she was looking to have a bit of fun tonight. We’re having a barbecue, with plenty of meat. Say you’re two hours away aren’t you? That’s still close enough so why not come visit? You can stay the night in our guestroom and we could catch up on a lot of missed brotherly bonding time” the older lion insisted as he scarfed down a whole turkey leg.

“I think I’d rather die” Scar muttered to himself. “I think I’ll pass. Unlike you I’m more interested in not adding more chins to my contact list, thank you very much. So I think I’ll spend my night trying to keep up with whatever work-related materials Kovu can email me” the younger lion decided.

“Suit yourself” Mufasa shrugged, but his warm smile suddenly twisted into a frown as he reached for his chest, and he made a really weird sound. “Huuurrrggghhh!”

“Brother? What’s happening?” Scar asked urgently as his brother’s blubber started jiggling.

“I don’t know. I just feel funny and, urgh” the golden lion groaned as the blubber on his face increased, his moobs squishing into view. “Something’s wrong!” he moaned as he swung around to the side of the deck chair.

The dark feline was treated to a shaky view of Mufasa’s face rapidly filling up the available screen, his grunts overshadowed by incessant groans and sloshing from something off camera. He seemed to be trying to get up, his face straining until the phone seemed to have fallen from his grip, as it was now lying face-up on the ground. The last thing Scar seemed to see was his brother’s swelling feet on camera, before the screen was obscured by some kind of golden avalanche. “Brother? Brother?! Mufasa! What’s happening?” the younger feline gasped, getting closer to the screen.

CONNECTION LOST…

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“YOU ABSOLUTE IDIOTS!” Scar screamed at his laptop, which was showing a lab setting with three hyenas on it.

“What did I do?” Shenzi (his personal assistant) complained with a lab coat over her dress suit.

“Not you woman, THEM!” the dark lion hissed at the other two hyenas.

“Hey, we did kinda sorta maybe warn ya weird stuff was going to happen” Banzai whined.

“[Mad Giggling]” Ed tittered, his eyes pointing in opposite directions.

“Did you think to kinda sorta maybe warn me that the serum would cause a sudden explosion in size?!” Scar roared angrily. “My own brother quite literally exploded out of his beach house. We were only lucky the media didn’t catch whiff of this before he got covered up. And not to mention his damn wife is breathing down my neck about this too. So WHAT. HAPPENED?!”

“[Mad Giggling]” the cock-eyed hyena giggled, holding up a sheet of paper with a bunch of complex equations on it.

“Could someone translate for the idiot savant?” the obese feline sighed, rubbing at his temples.

“Basically we’ve been testing the serum out on some “volunteers”” Shenzi began, doing the finger quotes to match her tone.

“And uhh well, we think we figured it out” Banzai finished.

“Well?” Scar asked acidically.

“Okay so to put it simply we think the uhh, “totally legal” nanotech we used seemed to have gone dormant in your body. We’re not sure why, since you and your big bro only used half the serum. We kinda figured it was half the serum being the reason why you two didn’t get as big as we thought you would” the more sane male hyena explained.

“So what does that mean?” the lion snarled, his patience rapidly wending towards utter fury.

“Well the “payload” has been getting stronger, and your body weight seems to cause a sudden release. We’re pretty sure that because Mufasa got way bigger, he reached a threshold and BOOM! He’s as big as a house all of a sudden” Banzai concluded.

“So you’re saying that if I reach a certain body weight, the nanotech will unleash a stronger version of the serum and I’ll end up like my brother?” Scar summarised. “Why does it do that?”

“[Mad Giggling]” Ed cackled.

“He reckons because you guys only used half, you didn’t hit that threshold and the nanotech went wonky. So because you guys kept eating and gaining weight, they’re basically making and storing more of the serum until you hit the threshold and they’ll release it all. So you’ll get even bigger than projected” Banzai translated.

“We’re still working out what that size is though” Shenzi added gloomily. “Ed thinks it’s probably somewhere between six hundred and seven hundred pounds, but we’re not sure since we did only test on this meerkat and a warthog looking for a quick buck. If we knew how heavy Mufasa got we’d be able to estimate for you, since he was bigger than you even before this. So whatever size Mufasa got to before he hit the threshold, it’s lower for you, sir.”

Scar melted into his three chairs, his fingers to his temple as he shook his head in disbelief. “So what happens now then? This insipid formula has made me hungrier than ever! Am I to simply not eat until you morons can produce more of the cure?” he demanded.

“Well, uhh, yeah, basically” Banzai nodded. “We’re out of the tech and the company we got it from is NOT taking our calls right now. So we’re kinda working blind to try and recreate it without any nanotech. Ed’s got a theory but it’s going to take another month, at least.”

“Unbelievable” the feline sighed, shaking his head some more. “So what? Am I to deny this hunger you idiots gave me, for a month?!”

“Umm, well diets are in vogue right now, sir” Shenzi hesitantly said.

“I’ll get right on that” Scar said sarcastically. “And you should do your jobs too, lest you might be needing to find new ones!” Scar snarled, slamming his laptop closed with enough force to bust a hinge.

The lion’s shoulders heaved as he forced himself off his chairs, the middle one coming with due to the thick wad of ass fat stuck through its back hole. Growling testily Scar shook his enormous rear, the chair coming loose. “Not eat, not eat” he repeated to himself. “How on this corrupt and impure earth am I supposed to keep my atrocious hunger in check and NOT GAIN WEIGHT?!” he screamed to the heavens.

Huffing hard, already his stomach was growling furiously, as if his rage had set it off. “Quiet damn it quiet” he said to himself, rubbing at his bulbous belly.

He had been comfort eating ever since Mufasa’s sudden expansion; in part out of anxiety for whatever happened happening to him, and the other part, a small part, a teeny tiny part… he may have been worried for his brother. Lord knows he had contempt for the man, but potentially making him explode was a step too far. He wasn’t a murderer, he had people to do that for him. GRRRRMMMBBBBLLEEE! “ENOUGH!” Scar cried, his hands over his ears.

How on earth was he going to do this? His damn stomach felt like a bottomless pit, a black hole, his father’s affection. All big black empty spaces that could never be filled by anything. How could he do this for a whole month?! Distractions. That was it, distractions. He would distract himself with work, perhaps? Opening up his laptop, he decided to go through his emails; perhaps Kovu had managed to send him something? Well, turns out he had, however…. “Dear Sir,” Scar read aloud, “I hope you have been enjoying this much-needed vacation. Matters of the company are proceeding smoothly, and we even managed to reach an agreement on the Saturnian Deal that will be greatly beneficial to the company for years to come. Please continue to have a pleasant stay of leave. Your employee, and son, Kovu”.

Of course that damn boy would have things running smoothly, who do you think taught him to do that? Still, Scar couldn’t help but feel some pride in knowing his successor was at least half the lion he was, admittedly both in business and literally in terms of BMI. GOOORRRRRLLLLL! Ugh his damn stomach, and this damn hunger! It was eating at him like termites through wood! He was so damn hungry, but with the unknown threshold looming, even his next meal could be his last. “I must have something healthy in the fridge” he thought desperately.

Hope springs eternal, but Scar’s well dried as he opened the fridge and was met by a litany of fattening foods and unhealthy treats. Why oh why had he sprung for an extensive supply of desserts from that local baker? Oh those éclairs were to die for, but, damn it! Slamming the fridge shut the lion hobbled about, his Hawaiian shirt buttons straining to contain his immensity as he desperately tried to take his mind off food. Think of something else! A hobby perhaps? But what hobbies did he even have? His business was his job, his hobby, and his whole life! He had nothing else besides crushing the weak beneath his heel. Mmm crushed garlic, with some garlic bread would do a treat right now- “NO!” Scar moaned, his belly grumbling getting louder.

Something else! Like whipping his lazy workers into shape. Whipping, like on a sundae- DAMN IT! Collapsing on his sofa the feline gripped his head as food whirled around his mind and around his head. A delicious parfait, a thick steamy lasagne, the thickest cut of steak ever. Oh no, he was clearly getting delirious from hunger. Side-eying the fridge, Scar dug his claws into his knees just to pull him mind back from the brink. GRRRRRGGGGGGGGLLLLLLLEEEEEE!!! What hobbies did he have? He must’ve had some! He couldn’t possibly have dedicated all his time to his life’s work, did he? What did he do in his spare time? Usually it was smoking a cigar and/or drinking some expensive alcohol while reading business magazines or newspapers. Keeping tabs on his stocks or micromanaging Kovu. But he didn’t have any of those things! He was alone with himself, and it was swiftly dawning on the lion just how empty his own life actually was.

GGGGGRRRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUMMMMMBBBBBBBLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

“ARGH!” Scar screamed loudly, his blubber rolling as he charged for the fridge.

Beads of sweat dripped down his mind as he wrenched the doors open, his pudgy hands grabbing at a large sandwich and yanking it out. He shredded the plastic coating as he desperately shoved the meat-ladened hoagie down his gob, barely even chewing as he seemed resolved to swallow it whole. And as it vanished down his gob he snagged a whole leg of ham and desperately chewed at it, tearing away thick chunks of salty meat and gulping them as fast as the sandwich. In mere seconds he reduced it to just a bone, which he licked at desperately to get the last shreds of meat from it before tossing it away carelessly. His belly gurgled loudly from the sudden filling, getting a little taut but not yet satisfied. GOOOOOORRRRRRRRLLLLL!! Panting hard, the feline snagged a pair of drumsticks off the whole roast turkey sitting on a shelf, and he relayed bites between each one, shredding them evenly as he ate and ate and ate, reducing them to mere bones just like the ham. And with those tossed the ravenous lion grabbed the rest of the turkey and dug in, the greasy bird smearing itself all over his straining shirt as he hungrily devoured it. His stomach producing more pulsating sounds as his belly began to bulge, the additional food inflating it as he devoured a turkey that could feed four all by himself. He even reached in and yanked the stuffing out to smear into his mouth, his puffy cheeks catching crumbs as the desperate lion was a whirlwind of hunger.

Scraps and crumbs and smears were starting to pool around him as Scar kept desperately eating, his eyes shrunken and mad as if possessed by the need to make his incessant hunger pangs cease! Sandwich over burger over pizza over packets of spaghetti sauce over everything was disappearing down his gob as soon as he could reach it, the packaging tossed away as he went for his next meal. And all the while his middle kept growing, going fuller and tighter as several of his fat creases began to shrink away, his tubby apron turning into a densely-packed medicine ball. His shirt was close to splitting at the seams as his bloated body filled it up, not unlike mince filling up a sausage casing. The buttons trembled to contain his expanding girth, the diamonds between them growing just as fat as he was, with his dark fur bulging through the gaps. But the strain was on as the shirt seemed to be getting smaller, or rather, Scar was getting bigger as more of his bloat was expanding beneath the bottom of the shirt, the lowest part now barely clinging to the middle of his love handles. And it was still rising as he continued to stuff his fat face, the lowest button vibrating almost enough to rupture time and space as it held on for dear life. PING! Well, forget that as the first button tore, easing up the pressure as the feline had turned to his desserts for support. Cakes and éclairs and doughnuts and buns and pies! He grabbed a pair of cherry pie and blueberry and pressed them together like a sandwich, eating both at the same time with enormous chomps. Globs of fruit splatted on his enormous chest as the beastly lion reached for a jam and cream bun and gobbled down it and its five brothers in quick succession. Scar’s madness could only be stopped as he groaned loudly, a thick bulge running up his chest and neck into his cheeks. “UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!”

Wind whipped around like a storm as a foul mixture of meat and sweet erupted from his gob. The force of his belch was so intense his belly visibly deflated an inch or two, a fact obscured by the rattling of the windows and every bit of nearby furniture. But with more room to be made, the madness that was Scar returned to his calorific feast with gutso- Err, gusto! And it was no mere illusion as to how fattening it all was, as his body went into overtime to add more and more weight to his impressive frame. His gut seemed to be fighting between taut and loose, his creases expanding and contracting as the additional fillings fought with his boundless gaining. Splits were forming along the inner seams of his khaki shorts as his bloated thighs pushed through, once more desperate to be together as the blubber spilled out around them. His unseemly rump wobbled excitedly as its expanding cheeks fought with the shorts, pushing them down as their ample girth flooded whatever space was available. The fabric of those pants were fighting for dear life to contain the ever-growing lion, and they were sinking fast from the weight of his bulging middle forcing them down. Pushed down to his hips they were, allowing even more of his ample ass to protrude as he chewed and snapped and gulped and swallowed. Scar huffed hard, catching his breath only between bites and the occasional mighty belch. The very foundation of the beach house was starting to shake from the force of his gassy eruptions. “Haa, haaa, huff” he burbled, licking cream from his mouth as he pulled out a tray of éclairs and went to town on those.

Despite all the sugar he had been shoving down his throat, the feline had slowed greatly as he lethargically shoved the pastries into his mouth, seemingly eating out of obligation as opposed to joy. PING! Another button scattered as more of his stomach blobbed into view, adding already to the foot and a half already visible as his torn shirt could only cling to the upper shelf of his belly and sides. His gut though; it protruded out further than either of his flabby arms could reach, and it was getting dangerously low to the ground as it began to obscure his knees. He was a veritable kitty blimp, and dangerously looking very much like his own brother had. It was this thought that spared him that one last éclair, just an inch away from his mouth. Swallowing hard, Scar set the dish down on the countertop, his hunger abated as he starred pitifully around at the mess he had made. “How could I hope to survive a month when my will couldn’t even survive five minutes?” he bemoaned as he grabbed and bounced his gut.

The sloshing was louder than ever as his gut rocked about, another button giving out and launching away, freeing even more of his bulbousness. Groaning pathetically, but seemingly safe from the rapid expansion, Scar took one ill-fated step and trod on the ham bone he had tossed away. His arms rocked as he stumbled about, his titanic body twisting as he held his hands out to shield his fall. Luckily he managed to save himself, unluckily one of his hands hit the edge of the tray he had left on the counter. Like a seesaw the last éclair jumped off the dish, launched by the force of a big fat stumbling lion right into his big fat gob. The feline gulped hard, swallowing the creamy dessert whole. Hand to his throat in shock, Scar felt at himself desperately, trying to feel anything inside his unwavering corpulence. “HRK!” he groaned, a sudden tightness upon him.

Oh god, was it about to happen to him? Was he about to turn into an absolute blimp, destined to never walk again on this sweet earth? The feeling was building, getting worse by the second. Oh no, this was it. PING! PING! PING! Scar gasped loudly, his chest freed as the last of his buttons tore away, his Hawaiian shirt flapping open and allowing his enormous gut and pillowy moobs to breathe. “Thank heavens” he said in relief. Chuckling to himself, Scar heaved a sigh of relief, his explosion of size clearly averted; though, he was going to need a new shirt and pair of pants as he currently looked like a water balloon having been squeezed into a pair of stockings. “For a moment, I was worried that HUUUURRRRGGGHHHH!”

The lion staggered suddenly, his body feeling like it was expanding from the inside out. “No no no not to meeeee!” he whined as his blubber began to vibrate.

Staring at his hand Scar’s eyes widened as his doughy paws began to swell, his fingers getting tight and sausage-like as they could scarcely wiggle or bend. They felt like they had been filled up with air, and not his own hot air. The feline whimpered loudly as the sensation was racing across his body, his hips bucking as his belly blorped out, his blubber growing so fast it bulged out a foot in mere seconds. His doughy sides weren’t far behind as they swelled and stacked, fat creases forming along them as they squished over the sides of his straining pants. Fat tears erupted in the in-seam of the groin of his pants, his thighs bursting out of the holes and expanding them further, rending and tearing his shorts apart. His enormous rear vibrated intensely, the seat of his pants splitting in two and exposing his hyena-print underwear that clung for dear life to his inflating rear. Everything was exploding in size, his weight skyrocketing by the second. And it was only now that the foolish cat realised he was still standing gobsmacked in the middle of his damn kitchen! And with his sides pressing between the kitchen isle and the counter, a life sentence was just around the corner. “Gotta get out of here” he said to himself. “BBBUUUURRRRRPPPP!”

That last belch wasn’t an intended part of his escape plan, but better out than in; not like he had a choice. Scar’s blubber sloshed and gloshed as he awkwardly waddled at the rate of ten meters per hour as the flab caked itself onto his thighs and calves, his swollen feet cartwheeling about on his engorged legs. But every step was getting harder than his last, his enormous cheeks puffing harder than a steam engine as the front door seemed to be getting further and further away. He was forced to a standstill as his metabolism seemingly gave up, unable to stand all the fattening foods he had crammed into his maw nor the raw influx of serum coursing through his veins. Scar huffed hard as he tried to move himself, but his gut was now on the floor and spreading out, and dragging it was draining all his energy. He was forced to almost a standstill as his unseemly rump burst out of the rest of his pants, his goofy undies clinging thinly as it spread across the immense canvas of his titanic tush, the fabric sinking into the quagmire of his lard. The lion was a an absolute blob, his lard finally overcoming all the hot air that was his ego as he kept expanding outwards, his belly getting bigger and bigger, and bigger. His shorts exploded into tiny threads as his gelatinous legs erupted out of them, with a literal diameter of blubber coating them in all directions, with his feet nearly covered by his own calves. His underwear trembled as it accepted the same fate, exploding into a shower of confetti as his rump wobbled from the explosion. Scar groaned loudly, another house-shaking belch following it out as he suddenly realised that the floor was looking much further away than before. Twisting about his fattening face, the lion’s jaw hung open as he saw the ceiling coming towards him. “Noooo” he uttered weakly as he clung his useless, flabby arms to his ballooning middle.

It was only readily apparent to him now, as he leaned on his middle, just how exactly massive it was. He was practically more belly than himself, and it was growing ever faster as it grey gooed its way towards his sofa and coffee table. Grabbing whatever part of his he could Scar grit his teeth hard as he tried to lift up his prodigious stomach, but he may as well try and lift a sumo wrestler; which, in this circumstance, would be easier! Releasing the wads of fat he had claimed, the feline braced himself as his head pressed against the ceiling, the plaster giving way as he was forced through it into the second floor, his head draped in the rug of his bedroom. Blind to the happenings of below, Scar could only work through feeling as his middle surged across the lower floor, its mass squishing over the coffee table and finding purchase on the sofa. His rear was working in the opposite direction, seemingly pushed along in part from his expansion and from the oppositional force of his belly. Either way Scar braced himself as more of the ceiling/flooring was giving way as the upper cleft of his magnanimous chest joined him, the rug falling off his head as he felt the building shudder. The floor on the first floor was creaking ominously from all the weight bearing down on it, and Scar could only silently pray it would hold as he felt his shoulders press and bunch, bursting through the floor with him. His Hawaiian shirt was nothing but tatters now as his bare shoulders rose up through the widening hole. But despite having them level they may as well be useless; less than useless as they were so ladened with fat they could scarcely move, his hands sticking out as his taut fingers couldn’t even bend anymore. “BUUUUWWWWWWAAAAARRRRRPPPP!!!” he belched violently, his bed and dressing table shaking violently, with a crack forming in a nearby window.

The entire house was shaking and rattling now as the corpulent kitty’s body filled it up to the brim, with one of his sides blorping out into the kitchen, its lard worming its way onto the counter and smothering the kitchen island. On the other side his bulk was nearing a wall, with the rest of his gut pouring over the entire sofa and smothering it like a gigantic tubby tarp. Its owner could scarcely feel any of this as his blubbery body was forced faster upwards, the floor completely giving away as his bed-sized moobs were doing their best to take up the space of his entire bedroom, with his arms growing out into his closet and into the hallway! His growth seemed to be accelerating as the roof was getting closer again, though he seemed to be tilting towards the outdoor balcony. “Nrf?” he grunted, more of the house giving away as he could feel something unusual in his rump.

Unable to see much, the lion’s corpulent, truck-sized ass was pressing against the fireplace and chimney, his cheeks squishing against the wall with the fireplace and chimney getting jammed between them. Already his flab was pressing into the construct, going upwards as the tops of his ass and belly were reaching the roof, more plaster giving way as he was about to bring the house down. The entire ground floor was completely devoured by his lower body and gut, his flab now pressing against windows and the front doors. DING DONG! Those doors exploded outwards, blobs of his own flesh with his immense well of a bellybutton squeezing their way out of it. The windows themselves were holding strong, until heavy bubbles forced their way up his throat.

“GGGGGGGGGGWWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!”

Every window in the house shattered, with the roof shuddering ominously from the force of his Category Five belch. More wads of blubber squeezed their way through every hole they could, the window frames actually tearing out from the foundations, carried along by his bloating flab as more lard filled the space. The very front of the house was bulging outwards, tucks of his fur pushing through the gaps as Scar’s upper body continued forwards, his head and enormous moobs squeezing through the balcony doors and outside. From there the lion could see the devastation as one of the front walls exploded, timber flying everywhere as presumably his thighs and part of his gut had just wadded their way out. And from the side came from of his titanic thighs and gut, followed by KABOOM! There went the rest as his gut devastated the ground and upper floors, the growing feline seeing it all as his rising head surged and caught the veranda shade, tearing it away as a makeshift hat as his head rose higher than his house. The lion grunted loudly as more blubber forced it way through holes and nooks and the big flipping hole out front. All complete with his arms bursting through the wall of his closet and hallway, with what he thought may have been a uselessly padded foot sticking out of a window hole. He was jammed in good and tight, his frown squished between his blobby cheeks and pressed along the massive tyre of lard that formerly was his neck. But from behind, he felt some relief as the entire back wall of the house exploded in a shower of shrapnel, followed by his gigantic ass erupting on the scene, complete with the chimney wedged between his garage-ready cheeks. And to top it all off his blubbery tail poked out the top of the chimney, mounted atop a thick mound of pudge. But above all else, it felt he had either stopped, or at the very least slowed. It was impossible to even tell how big he was, or what shape he even was at this point, or if he could even walk anymore. But judging by the devastation and how his gut stretched from his house well over twenty feet onto the beach, it wasn’t pretty. Worst part of this? He was absolutely starving!