Shalion
Shalion
A story I wrote for Fur Affinity Two years ago. (Contains super sizes, body swapping, hetero- and ****-sexual *** scenes, and descriptions of obesity-related medical problems)
White Elephant
By Shalion
Nathan squirmed in his seat, the folding chair under him squeaking loudly and his large posterior bumping against one of his neighbors who politely pretended not to notice; though in fact she most certainly did. He was shifting his weight partially because the chair was too small for him - most were - but also because of excruciating boredom.
The heavyset man was in a room with about 100 other people, a seldom used conference room on the fifth floor of his nondescript office building which smelled of mildew and cheap carpet. It was the largest single room in the building, but still hardly sufficient for the assembled party. Many were standing and Nathan jealously guarded his seat despite the fact that he would have desperately liked to refill his plastic punch cup. He did not want to think about the prospect of spending the rest of the event on his feet, which would have added physical pain to the already barely tolerable tedium of the holiday.
“All right, let’s have 45 come on up!” called the voice of Barbara in senior management. As with most group events, she was overly giddy and excited, but in an obviously false way. Wherever she looked in the crowd, the people who noticed returned equally false smiles of enjoyment. The contrast of the overachievers with the inattentive brought a small amount of wry amusement to Nathan as he sat and waited, barely paying attention to the wrapped packages people were opening at a fearsomely slow pace which became only slower when people inevitably decided to steal rather than take. In his right palm dangled a scrap of paper with a number written on it: “101.”
Nathan supposed that it was theoretically the best number. He should be able to see nearly all the other gifts opened by then and have the best chance at stealing what he wanted. But there were two problems: first, the very best gifts would have already been stolen multiple times earlier in the game and declared “dead” by the time it was his turn, so he would not have any access to those. But second, and more importantly, Nathan could not imagine himself desiring anything that was on display now. It would be enough of a challenge to summon enough inner willpower to at the very least not appear like an ungrateful grinch when at last he was called, because the truth was that Nathan would rather be almost anywhere else.
Nathan did not like being around people in general. His large size always made him stick out in a crowd, and among his peers, it was not hard to see at a glance that he was the fattest person in the company by a large margin. The large man had a bad habit of sweating at the least provocation and in the close air warmed by so many people so close together, that was exactly what he was doing now. In fact, he was sweating so much on his face that the drips were close to overrunning his eyebrows and into his eyes, stinging. One thing about working for a faceless conglomerate like Berkley Inc. was that Nathan was constantly worried about appearances, particularly in regards to his weight and he hated being in a position where it was accentuated, particularly in plain view of the upper management. Nathan had prided himself on his skills of invisibility, at least insofar as a man of his size can disappear into the cogs of a corporate monolith.
So the prospect of being fired for appearing fat, lazy, and useless hung over his head, but that might have been alleviated if the presents themselves had been more exciting. The main problem here, though was a strict $10 price limit. Nathan himself could not imagine a single item that he might like for under $10 that he had not already bought for himself. Nor could he imagine what another grown person might want for that amount. And judging by the selection of ‘gifts’ on display so far, he was not alone in that regard.
Nearly all of the presents were gag-gifts. Small animatronic dolls with a piercingly annoying song were among the most popular. However, there were more odious bombs. A woman unwrapped a can of beans and the one after her discovered a pair of fingerless gloves shaped like men’s underwear. There were also bacon-waves, and selfie-sticks galore. A small, mousey secretary received a bottle of ghost pepper hot sauce with a label covered in skulls and even a tiny coffin cozy. People were stealing the worst presents as jokes and laughing about it, but Nathan could not get into the mood himself. Maybe it would have been better if he had had any friends here.
As the number of dead gifts increased, the excitement died down a little and people settled into the idea of keeping the stupid little trinkets they held in their hands. Try as he might, Nathan could not pull himself out of his doldrums and sat in the back of crowd with a vacant look on his full-cheeked face until finally…
“…One-hundred and one!” shouted Barbara in a slightly hoarse tone, even her peppiness had toned down over the hours of “entertainment.” Nathan shook himself to his senses, though he had not truly been dozing, that would have been crossing a deadly line with so many eyes in the room. But he had been startled, which was more than he would have liked. Barbara had apparently skipped through several numbers he hadn’t noticed since there were people absent or possibly had ditched the party altogether. Nathan smiled, stood up with an audible creek from his knees and smoothed his shirt and pants.
He made a show of walking around the room and examining all of the admirable presents on display that he might like to steal. His mood made the acting difficult, but at least it was well practiced. Finally he turned to the long table which was now almost completely empty. His own small present, a pack of chocolates from a chocolatier he was particularly fond of, was long gone despite the drab packaging. Nathan had half hoped that it would go overlooked, but instead he was presented with a choice of a tiny ball about the size of a mouse and something in a brown paper sack that appeared to be leaking slightly through the paper, judging by the dark stain on one corner. Needless to say, Nathan took the tiny gift. He turned back towards his seat, but saw that Jeff from Sales had already claimed it, *******, thought Nathan with malice.
He wanted to go immediately, but remembered belatedly that he had to at least show everyone what he’d got. He unwrapped the paper and found a crumpled ball of paper, one of the most inauspicious gifts yet. He received cheers from most of the men as he held it up between thumb and forefinger. Someone shouted, “What does it say?”
Nathan reluctantly peeled apart and flattened the wad until he could read what was written on it. Rolling his eyes, he said, “One free wish.”
There was applause from the crowd. Nathan definitely had a strong contender for ‘worst’ gift. At least he could have eaten a can of beans. Despite this, however, he would not even have the small pleasure of a stealing war because he was indeed the last person to pick a gift. Despite there being an extra gift, everyone present had chosen something and had in their hands the proof. It was generally agreed upon that someone had left in the interim and the brown paper sack was left in the common room for anyone to pick up if they wanted; no one did, and it was thrown away three days later after it began to smell, but the stain it left on the table cloth where it laid lasted long after that.
Nathan tottered back to his desk and collapsed gratefully into his extra wide office chair. He felt nothing but relief that the episode was over, though he regretted not at least considering stealing the secretary’s hot sauce as he might have wanted to experiment with it cooking at home. He forgot entirely about the ‘free wish’ card in his pocket until he got home later that evening.
It was something of a relief to get out of his business casual at home everyday. The buttons on Nathan’s 5XL shirt almost popped open over his burgeoning middle. He’d given up on belts several months ago in favor of suspenders, and thus saved himself another source of discomfort, but it was always a pain finding pants large enough to accommodate the great paunch he had grown as well as his rounded, generously portioned bottom. He’d in fact, been experimenting with wearing his pants ‘under-gut’ as he thought of it, especially with his older, smaller wardrobe, but could only do it with a longer than usual, and well fitting shirt. No matter what he did, however, nothing felt as good as stripping to his underclothes and usually discarding the undershirt as well. Nathan often stopped to look at his broad chest, liberally coated with dark hair in between the full, plump man-**** under his arms. He never disliked what he saw and he liked the feel of his unrestrained belly bouncing with his steps while in his apartment as well.
So Nathan stood, mostly naked, as he emptied out the contents of his pants pockets onto the dresser before tossing the pair into the hamper. His eyes came across the paper again as he was walking to his computer though, and he gave a small derisive snort of amusement. He grabbed it in his chubby fist with full intention of tossing it into the wastepaper basket. And he would have too, save for a small detail he had failed to notice earlier as he scoffed at the gift in public. There was some more text written on the card, below the bold text that read “One Free Wish.” It was not words, exactly, but Nathan recognized what it was anyways, a Skype address. He mouthed the name under his breath as, out of pure curiosity, as he typed it into Google, “MagicSexFox5656.”
White Elephant
By Shalion
Nathan squirmed in his seat, the folding chair under him squeaking loudly and his large posterior bumping against one of his neighbors who politely pretended not to notice; though in fact she most certainly did. He was shifting his weight partially because the chair was too small for him - most were - but also because of excruciating boredom.
The heavyset man was in a room with about 100 other people, a seldom used conference room on the fifth floor of his nondescript office building which smelled of mildew and cheap carpet. It was the largest single room in the building, but still hardly sufficient for the assembled party. Many were standing and Nathan jealously guarded his seat despite the fact that he would have desperately liked to refill his plastic punch cup. He did not want to think about the prospect of spending the rest of the event on his feet, which would have added physical pain to the already barely tolerable tedium of the holiday.
“All right, let’s have 45 come on up!” called the voice of Barbara in senior management. As with most group events, she was overly giddy and excited, but in an obviously false way. Wherever she looked in the crowd, the people who noticed returned equally false smiles of enjoyment. The contrast of the overachievers with the inattentive brought a small amount of wry amusement to Nathan as he sat and waited, barely paying attention to the wrapped packages people were opening at a fearsomely slow pace which became only slower when people inevitably decided to steal rather than take. In his right palm dangled a scrap of paper with a number written on it: “101.”
Nathan supposed that it was theoretically the best number. He should be able to see nearly all the other gifts opened by then and have the best chance at stealing what he wanted. But there were two problems: first, the very best gifts would have already been stolen multiple times earlier in the game and declared “dead” by the time it was his turn, so he would not have any access to those. But second, and more importantly, Nathan could not imagine himself desiring anything that was on display now. It would be enough of a challenge to summon enough inner willpower to at the very least not appear like an ungrateful grinch when at last he was called, because the truth was that Nathan would rather be almost anywhere else.
Nathan did not like being around people in general. His large size always made him stick out in a crowd, and among his peers, it was not hard to see at a glance that he was the fattest person in the company by a large margin. The large man had a bad habit of sweating at the least provocation and in the close air warmed by so many people so close together, that was exactly what he was doing now. In fact, he was sweating so much on his face that the drips were close to overrunning his eyebrows and into his eyes, stinging. One thing about working for a faceless conglomerate like Berkley Inc. was that Nathan was constantly worried about appearances, particularly in regards to his weight and he hated being in a position where it was accentuated, particularly in plain view of the upper management. Nathan had prided himself on his skills of invisibility, at least insofar as a man of his size can disappear into the cogs of a corporate monolith.
So the prospect of being fired for appearing fat, lazy, and useless hung over his head, but that might have been alleviated if the presents themselves had been more exciting. The main problem here, though was a strict $10 price limit. Nathan himself could not imagine a single item that he might like for under $10 that he had not already bought for himself. Nor could he imagine what another grown person might want for that amount. And judging by the selection of ‘gifts’ on display so far, he was not alone in that regard.
Nearly all of the presents were gag-gifts. Small animatronic dolls with a piercingly annoying song were among the most popular. However, there were more odious bombs. A woman unwrapped a can of beans and the one after her discovered a pair of fingerless gloves shaped like men’s underwear. There were also bacon-waves, and selfie-sticks galore. A small, mousey secretary received a bottle of ghost pepper hot sauce with a label covered in skulls and even a tiny coffin cozy. People were stealing the worst presents as jokes and laughing about it, but Nathan could not get into the mood himself. Maybe it would have been better if he had had any friends here.
As the number of dead gifts increased, the excitement died down a little and people settled into the idea of keeping the stupid little trinkets they held in their hands. Try as he might, Nathan could not pull himself out of his doldrums and sat in the back of crowd with a vacant look on his full-cheeked face until finally…
“…One-hundred and one!” shouted Barbara in a slightly hoarse tone, even her peppiness had toned down over the hours of “entertainment.” Nathan shook himself to his senses, though he had not truly been dozing, that would have been crossing a deadly line with so many eyes in the room. But he had been startled, which was more than he would have liked. Barbara had apparently skipped through several numbers he hadn’t noticed since there were people absent or possibly had ditched the party altogether. Nathan smiled, stood up with an audible creek from his knees and smoothed his shirt and pants.
He made a show of walking around the room and examining all of the admirable presents on display that he might like to steal. His mood made the acting difficult, but at least it was well practiced. Finally he turned to the long table which was now almost completely empty. His own small present, a pack of chocolates from a chocolatier he was particularly fond of, was long gone despite the drab packaging. Nathan had half hoped that it would go overlooked, but instead he was presented with a choice of a tiny ball about the size of a mouse and something in a brown paper sack that appeared to be leaking slightly through the paper, judging by the dark stain on one corner. Needless to say, Nathan took the tiny gift. He turned back towards his seat, but saw that Jeff from Sales had already claimed it, *******, thought Nathan with malice.
He wanted to go immediately, but remembered belatedly that he had to at least show everyone what he’d got. He unwrapped the paper and found a crumpled ball of paper, one of the most inauspicious gifts yet. He received cheers from most of the men as he held it up between thumb and forefinger. Someone shouted, “What does it say?”
Nathan reluctantly peeled apart and flattened the wad until he could read what was written on it. Rolling his eyes, he said, “One free wish.”
There was applause from the crowd. Nathan definitely had a strong contender for ‘worst’ gift. At least he could have eaten a can of beans. Despite this, however, he would not even have the small pleasure of a stealing war because he was indeed the last person to pick a gift. Despite there being an extra gift, everyone present had chosen something and had in their hands the proof. It was generally agreed upon that someone had left in the interim and the brown paper sack was left in the common room for anyone to pick up if they wanted; no one did, and it was thrown away three days later after it began to smell, but the stain it left on the table cloth where it laid lasted long after that.
Nathan tottered back to his desk and collapsed gratefully into his extra wide office chair. He felt nothing but relief that the episode was over, though he regretted not at least considering stealing the secretary’s hot sauce as he might have wanted to experiment with it cooking at home. He forgot entirely about the ‘free wish’ card in his pocket until he got home later that evening.
It was something of a relief to get out of his business casual at home everyday. The buttons on Nathan’s 5XL shirt almost popped open over his burgeoning middle. He’d given up on belts several months ago in favor of suspenders, and thus saved himself another source of discomfort, but it was always a pain finding pants large enough to accommodate the great paunch he had grown as well as his rounded, generously portioned bottom. He’d in fact, been experimenting with wearing his pants ‘under-gut’ as he thought of it, especially with his older, smaller wardrobe, but could only do it with a longer than usual, and well fitting shirt. No matter what he did, however, nothing felt as good as stripping to his underclothes and usually discarding the undershirt as well. Nathan often stopped to look at his broad chest, liberally coated with dark hair in between the full, plump man-**** under his arms. He never disliked what he saw and he liked the feel of his unrestrained belly bouncing with his steps while in his apartment as well.
So Nathan stood, mostly naked, as he emptied out the contents of his pants pockets onto the dresser before tossing the pair into the hamper. His eyes came across the paper again as he was walking to his computer though, and he gave a small derisive snort of amusement. He grabbed it in his chubby fist with full intention of tossing it into the wastepaper basket. And he would have too, save for a small detail he had failed to notice earlier as he scoffed at the gift in public. There was some more text written on the card, below the bold text that read “One Free Wish.” It was not words, exactly, but Nathan recognized what it was anyways, a Skype address. He mouthed the name under his breath as, out of pure curiosity, as he typed it into Google, “MagicSexFox5656.”
