Tad
Dimensions' loiterer
~BHM, Adventure, ~XWG (and eventually BBW, more weight gain, and romance--to come in later parts) - A dragon slayer is cursed with weight gain.
[Author's note: Yoshi posted a request on the reader's forum. This is not quite what he requested, but it is what his request inspired in my brain. This is something of a rough draft first chapter, to let him see where I'm going with this story. There are at least a few more parts to come, with more twists to the story.]
Part One
Charles looked at the pinned drake with pity, and tried to steel himself for what he had to do next. “You’ve been raiding farms around here for at least decades. You’ve stolen hundreds of animals. For that, I was sent to kill you.”
Really, he didn’t see how this thing managed to kill a cow, and certainly not how it could eat one! It was certainly long enough, he guessed that its coiled body would stretch out to longer than his mother’s mini-van, but at its thickest it was not more than a couple of feet across. Its transparent wings were flickering so quickly that they blurred, so he had to admit that flying would no doubt take a lot of energy for it, but still, a cow?
The dragon sneered—most people would not have caught the expression, but Charles was the latest branch of an ancient line of dragon slayers, so he’d been taught these things. Of course, he’d also been taught not to talk to dragons, but he didn’t see what harm it could do.
In its hissing but surprisingly musical speech, the dragon replied, “You humans eat all the rest of the animals, it is not like you are saving them like gold. Yes, a dragon eats a lot at a time, but we feed seldom and we are so few. You humans together are like locusts on the land, you eat and eat and eat!”
Automatically defending his species, Charles snapped back, “We don’t eat that much!” As he said it he remembered that arguing with dragons was always considered dangerous, but at only eighteen he had not yet learned to always follow what he knew to be the right course.
The dragon laughed and said “Oh, that sounded like a challenge! I get to respond to challenges. From now on, when people are enclosed with you, what they eat will give them no nutrition, and it will all go to you. Come back to me when you are willing to admit that humans eat more than dragons, and I’ll remove the curse. Of course, kill me first and the curse will be yours forever.”
“OH!” was all that Charles said at first. Now he really understood why he’d been taught to just finish the kill, never engage them in conversation. No wonder his aunt claimed that the serpent in the Garden of Eden story was really an allegory for dealing with dragons.
And so it was that Charles left his first dragon slaying with a clean sword. He could not say that he was too disappointed that he had not killed the beast. He hated the idea of killing dragons, for all that they were tricky and cared not for human morals. But it was what you did when you were in his family. He’d been considered the pick of his generation, six feet tall, broad shouldered, muscular, with natural athletic gifts that had made him a star in high school in several sports.
This had been the first dragon tracked down in seven years, and it had been agreed that the honor should be his as the up and comer. Now the entire family would be disappointed in him. As he hiked down from the ancient volcanic cone where the encounter had taken place, he wondered if the family would be sufficiently disappointed to allow him to go study accounting now, like he wanted to do.
Of course, first they’d have to find a way to break the curse, but he was hardly the first in family history to suffer a dragon curse, and he was pretty sure that in his lessons there had been something about those people surviving. So what he needed to do was play it safe until he was home. Avoid restaurants mostly.
From central France back to Paris was a drive of several hours. He arrived back at his hotel rather hungry. He did not totally believe in the dragon’s curse, but he was reluctant to take any chances. He left the bellhops wondering again about the heavy duffle bags containing his fire and claw-resistant suit, and carried the long tube with his sword up to his room with him.
Once in the luxurious suite he made sure that the blade was clean and cared for, then went for a luxurious bath, and called room service for a good meal. At least the travel expenses were good as a dragon slayer—the many hordes taken over the generations meant his family was never short of cash.
He stayed in his room until it was time to go to the airport, and he made sure to arrive as late as he thought safe. He hurried through check in and the security gates and waited by this departure gate.
He kept checking his stomach, but not much seemed to be happening. Although it was hard to tell, to be on the safe side he was wearing the oversized sweatpants and sweatshirt designed to be worn over his bulky armor, to hide it while on the approach to a dragon’s lair.
He boarded the plane, still feeling pretty normal, if maybe a little hungry. He was happy to settle into the broad business class seat, and took the pre-flight drink and nuts with pleasure. As he consumed them he began to feel much better.
They had not been in the air for too long before they air crew started bringing dinner to the business class passengers. Charles suddenly froze—he hadn’t thought about this! As his fellow business class passengers started eating, a sudden wave of pleasure flowed through Charles. It wasn’t sexual, but it was a feeling of comfort and relaxation. After a few minutes he poked at his abdomen, and he thought that there was a touch of softness over his usual washboard abs.
Then the forty-seven rows of economy class passengers began to get their meals. As row after row started diving in, the pleasure Charles experienced climbed and climbed. Soon he could see his stomach starting to climb too. It was hard to bother doing anything when he felt this good, but he did manage to undo the waistband tie on his sweatpants as his stomach continued to swell. When he reached down to loosen his seat belt too he felt his arms brushing against the start of man boobs. He had to shift position as his plumping thighs forced his legs further apart.
By the time all of the meals were served, his sweatpants were a little snug, even untied, and his sweatshirt was straining over a broad belly and soft boobs. When he went to the washroom he found himself waddling down the aisle, finding it suddenly hard to pass between seats without bumping into them. The washroom was hard to move around in as large as he’d become, but once he’d finished his business he finally looked in the mirror. His face was now round, and sported a broad double chin.
Once he was back in his seat he was surprised to actually find himself feeling hungry, but he was also tired, and quickly fell asleep.
Charles slept for several hours, until they were close to New York, and the flight crew brought a snack around. Soon Charles was again engulfed in pleasure, and more fat. When he finally waddled off the plane his belly was spilling over the top of his sweatpants, and his sweatshirt kept riding up to show off a thick roll of flab.
Charles was relieved that it was only a short commuter flight to Columbus, Ohio after this. Still, by the time he’d made it through the airport and the flight and disembarked, his sweatpants had succumbed to the weight of his belly and slid down near his hips, leaving his flabby belly spilling out over their top. His sweatshirt would not reach around his broad waist, and strained just to fit around his well-padded chest. Straining over his triple chins, he could just see down to where his belly shook and jiggled, and he huffed and puffed through the small airport.
He would not have hurried anyway to tell his family what had happened, but, as it was, hurrying was out of the question anyway. Despite his bulging muscles and formidable fitness, carrying this much weight and bulk kept him to half the pace of the other passengers. He knew they'd be upset, but he comforted himself with the thought that at least his dragon slaying days were done!
-Ed
[Author's note: Yoshi posted a request on the reader's forum. This is not quite what he requested, but it is what his request inspired in my brain. This is something of a rough draft first chapter, to let him see where I'm going with this story. There are at least a few more parts to come, with more twists to the story.]
Charles and the Dragon's Curse
by Edx
by Edx
Part One
Charles looked at the pinned drake with pity, and tried to steel himself for what he had to do next. “You’ve been raiding farms around here for at least decades. You’ve stolen hundreds of animals. For that, I was sent to kill you.”
Really, he didn’t see how this thing managed to kill a cow, and certainly not how it could eat one! It was certainly long enough, he guessed that its coiled body would stretch out to longer than his mother’s mini-van, but at its thickest it was not more than a couple of feet across. Its transparent wings were flickering so quickly that they blurred, so he had to admit that flying would no doubt take a lot of energy for it, but still, a cow?
The dragon sneered—most people would not have caught the expression, but Charles was the latest branch of an ancient line of dragon slayers, so he’d been taught these things. Of course, he’d also been taught not to talk to dragons, but he didn’t see what harm it could do.
In its hissing but surprisingly musical speech, the dragon replied, “You humans eat all the rest of the animals, it is not like you are saving them like gold. Yes, a dragon eats a lot at a time, but we feed seldom and we are so few. You humans together are like locusts on the land, you eat and eat and eat!”
Automatically defending his species, Charles snapped back, “We don’t eat that much!” As he said it he remembered that arguing with dragons was always considered dangerous, but at only eighteen he had not yet learned to always follow what he knew to be the right course.
The dragon laughed and said “Oh, that sounded like a challenge! I get to respond to challenges. From now on, when people are enclosed with you, what they eat will give them no nutrition, and it will all go to you. Come back to me when you are willing to admit that humans eat more than dragons, and I’ll remove the curse. Of course, kill me first and the curse will be yours forever.”
“OH!” was all that Charles said at first. Now he really understood why he’d been taught to just finish the kill, never engage them in conversation. No wonder his aunt claimed that the serpent in the Garden of Eden story was really an allegory for dealing with dragons.
And so it was that Charles left his first dragon slaying with a clean sword. He could not say that he was too disappointed that he had not killed the beast. He hated the idea of killing dragons, for all that they were tricky and cared not for human morals. But it was what you did when you were in his family. He’d been considered the pick of his generation, six feet tall, broad shouldered, muscular, with natural athletic gifts that had made him a star in high school in several sports.
This had been the first dragon tracked down in seven years, and it had been agreed that the honor should be his as the up and comer. Now the entire family would be disappointed in him. As he hiked down from the ancient volcanic cone where the encounter had taken place, he wondered if the family would be sufficiently disappointed to allow him to go study accounting now, like he wanted to do.
Of course, first they’d have to find a way to break the curse, but he was hardly the first in family history to suffer a dragon curse, and he was pretty sure that in his lessons there had been something about those people surviving. So what he needed to do was play it safe until he was home. Avoid restaurants mostly.
From central France back to Paris was a drive of several hours. He arrived back at his hotel rather hungry. He did not totally believe in the dragon’s curse, but he was reluctant to take any chances. He left the bellhops wondering again about the heavy duffle bags containing his fire and claw-resistant suit, and carried the long tube with his sword up to his room with him.
Once in the luxurious suite he made sure that the blade was clean and cared for, then went for a luxurious bath, and called room service for a good meal. At least the travel expenses were good as a dragon slayer—the many hordes taken over the generations meant his family was never short of cash.
He stayed in his room until it was time to go to the airport, and he made sure to arrive as late as he thought safe. He hurried through check in and the security gates and waited by this departure gate.
He kept checking his stomach, but not much seemed to be happening. Although it was hard to tell, to be on the safe side he was wearing the oversized sweatpants and sweatshirt designed to be worn over his bulky armor, to hide it while on the approach to a dragon’s lair.
He boarded the plane, still feeling pretty normal, if maybe a little hungry. He was happy to settle into the broad business class seat, and took the pre-flight drink and nuts with pleasure. As he consumed them he began to feel much better.
They had not been in the air for too long before they air crew started bringing dinner to the business class passengers. Charles suddenly froze—he hadn’t thought about this! As his fellow business class passengers started eating, a sudden wave of pleasure flowed through Charles. It wasn’t sexual, but it was a feeling of comfort and relaxation. After a few minutes he poked at his abdomen, and he thought that there was a touch of softness over his usual washboard abs.
Then the forty-seven rows of economy class passengers began to get their meals. As row after row started diving in, the pleasure Charles experienced climbed and climbed. Soon he could see his stomach starting to climb too. It was hard to bother doing anything when he felt this good, but he did manage to undo the waistband tie on his sweatpants as his stomach continued to swell. When he reached down to loosen his seat belt too he felt his arms brushing against the start of man boobs. He had to shift position as his plumping thighs forced his legs further apart.
By the time all of the meals were served, his sweatpants were a little snug, even untied, and his sweatshirt was straining over a broad belly and soft boobs. When he went to the washroom he found himself waddling down the aisle, finding it suddenly hard to pass between seats without bumping into them. The washroom was hard to move around in as large as he’d become, but once he’d finished his business he finally looked in the mirror. His face was now round, and sported a broad double chin.
Once he was back in his seat he was surprised to actually find himself feeling hungry, but he was also tired, and quickly fell asleep.
Charles slept for several hours, until they were close to New York, and the flight crew brought a snack around. Soon Charles was again engulfed in pleasure, and more fat. When he finally waddled off the plane his belly was spilling over the top of his sweatpants, and his sweatshirt kept riding up to show off a thick roll of flab.
Charles was relieved that it was only a short commuter flight to Columbus, Ohio after this. Still, by the time he’d made it through the airport and the flight and disembarked, his sweatpants had succumbed to the weight of his belly and slid down near his hips, leaving his flabby belly spilling out over their top. His sweatshirt would not reach around his broad waist, and strained just to fit around his well-padded chest. Straining over his triple chins, he could just see down to where his belly shook and jiggled, and he huffed and puffed through the small airport.
He would not have hurried anyway to tell his family what had happened, but, as it was, hurrying was out of the question anyway. Despite his bulging muscles and formidable fitness, carrying this much weight and bulk kept him to half the pace of the other passengers. He knew they'd be upset, but he comforted himself with the thought that at least his dragon slaying days were done!
-Ed
