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Krown as the sort of dragon who enjoyed regularity in his life. The feral, brown-scaled-and-feathered owlgon enjoyed spending his days tending to his prized possession, his bacon farm, and not much else.

He didn't have pigs on his farm. Animals are hard to raise, no no. Krown took the simpler route and grew bacon trees instead. Great big trees, with balls of bacon forming on their boughs and dropping down, pre-cooked and dripping with delicious grease. Indeed, it was some of the highest-quality stuff around, and he was prime supplier of the meat.

Bacon trees always required upkeep, however. Krown was happy to tend to his extensive fields daily, going out at dawn to inspect the orchards, removing pests and shaping the trees into the perfect shapes for bacon production. His greatest joy was when a tree was ripe and he got to pick of the juicy strands of his crop. It was a task not to oversample his crop as he picked it!

He proudly owned the farm alone, nothing less than an achievement in his eyes. But apart from tending to the trees, there was one other common occurrence in his life: People on his doorstep.

He wasn't terribly surprised when he heard someone knock at his door. It was pretty much weekly. Grumbling, he got up out of his curled-up position in his bed and padded over to his door. Peering out the eye-hole, he sighed.

It was a black-furred wolf, dressed in a sharp buisness suit and a pair of small, round glasses. He was holding a black folder, filled with paper. Krown quickly identified him as the spokesperson for Kay Agricultural, a rival farming group. What did they want now?

He couldn't hide the slight scowl on his face as he opened the door. "Hello?"

"Hello, Mr. MacNachtan! We have a new offer for you, if you're interested."

"I'm not."

"Ah... But please, allow me to show you our terms. We've doubled the amount we're willing to pay for rights to your farm, and-"

"Doubled, eh?"

"Doubled."

"Well, I figure." Krown said. "That's still not enough."

"We're also willing to give you a percentage of future earnings, Mr. MacNachtan. Please, think about it!"

"I've thought about it, and... No."

"Well... We at Kay Agricultural sincerely hope you reconsider. We'll look over our offer. Thank you for your time." And with that, the spokesperson smiled wryly and walked away. Krown slammed the door shut and walked back inside. They were really getting desperate, he thought, as he stared at his living room. But they didn't try to hand him the folder with the offer in it this time. Strange.

Without a new offer to throw into the ol' paper shredder, Krown simply shrugged and got ready for a day of tending the fields. Soon exiting his farmhouse (which, being built in the side of the hill, was also a burrow), Krown stretched and trotted over to the orchard, collection basket hanging from his mouth.

The first hours of his task were as usual as ever. Check on the trees, give them water, sprinkle nutrients, collect ripe bacon, repeat. Slowly but surely, his collection basket filled up with his juicy crop. It was no wonder to the owlgon why other companies wanted his farm so badly; his output this year was possibly his best yet, the basket filling only a few hours in. He had to make many trips a day to his refrigerated warehouse, where he stored his crop prior to shipping.

A few trips in, Krown was dutifully watering his trees when he noticed a glint out of the corner of his eye. At the root of a tree ahead of him was a largeish weed, making him grumble. Weeds weren't a problem for trees, but there were definitely plants you couldn't have growing around them, like ivy. He plodded over to the tree in question, inspecting the plant.

He quickly figured out what was causing the glint he noticed. This weed had a handful of small berries growing from it. They were pinkish-brown, vaguely similar to the bacon on the trees, and plump-looking.

He tilted his head in momentary confusion. Was this something that had cross-bred with his bacon trees? He soon grinned and plucked a berry from it, looking at the thing.

It was a strange fruit indeed. But was it something that was cultivatable? He popped the fruit in his mouth. Immediately, a burst of sweet flavor hit him. It tasted like bacon, cooked to perfection and heaped in... Sugar? The taste made him jump. He had stumbled upon something new!

Grinning in pure glee, to plucked the rest of the berries and plopped them in his basket. These things simply had to be planted next spring! Images of a wonderful new product danced through his head as he trotted back home with his precious cargo in tow.

The rest of the day was uneventful, but he couldn't help but go about it with the highest of spirits. Bacon was picked and the trees were cared for with increased vigor. He'd show those fools from Kay! The megacorporation would never cut into his profits with these. His family farm would always come out on top.

When he finished his task, as the sun was setting in the sky, Krown felt like he could do no wrong. He curled up in bed soon enough, tired and spent after such a day. He dreamed of bacon, as usual.

* * *

The next day, Krown woke up, not with knocking on the door, but pain in his stomach. He groaned to life and clutched his middle languishingly. He yelped when his claws met his scaled underbelly sooner than he expected, eyes flying open. What was going on?

It quickly became apparent to the owlgon exactly what was going on. He was extraordinarily bloated! His belly, while usually a bit chubby from his bacon sampling, was now, without a doubt, sticking out, looking round and hard. With a poke, he confirmed the cause- Gas.

He got up, gritting his teeth and straining, trying to vent this cramp-inducing stuff. The only thing that came out was a weak fffrrrrrrtttttt. He huffed and laid back down, the effort useless. What an unusual buildup...

He thought long and hard about what he ate yesterday. For breakfast, he had some eggs and bacon... No, that was usual. For lunch, he had a BLT... Normal. For dinner, a baconburger... Nothing strange there. Any snacks? Well...

There was one. The berry! The strange berry he ate! Was that causing the gas? He groaned and rolled over, trying to get the pressure off of his middle. If that berry had this side effect, his dreams of fortune was all but busted...

But eventually, those thoughts had to cease. No matter what, he had a farm to attend to. Slowly, he got out of bed and walked carefully out the door. He grit his way through the uncomfortable bloating, collecting bacon as usual and avoiding the strange weed at all costs. It was unpleasant, but not impossible, to work in these conditions... Except for when he accidentally jabbed his gut with the collection basket. That hurt.

By the end of the day, he swore his belly was just a bit bigger. He was already sick of it, and he was hoping it would go away very soon. All day, he had tried to vent the buildup of gas, but no matter how much he farted, it didn't seem to help. He was really backed up, he thought, as he curled back up in bed at the end of the day...

* * *

When he woke back up, his hopes were squashed. In fact, his gut was even more sizable now, spreading his legs apart and poking out to his sides. It felt like a storm was brewing inside there, his belly gurgling vociferously. Now, his guts gurgled with liquid-sounding contents, making him worry. What was going on?

Afflicted or not, he wobbled to his feet. If he raised his legs even slightly, his belly touched the floor, making him belch weakly in surprise. If he brought his legs together, they pinched his bloated belly, causing him no small amount of pain. To walk, he had to take a wide, slow stance, making all progress forwards a challenge. Grumbling and swearing to himself, he waddled out of the house, brushing against both sides of the doorway as he went.

Caring for his farm turned into a nightmare. His pace was sluggish, and so was he. He stopped constantly to catch his breath and to try to vent some of this stuff inside of him. With every movement, his gut sloshed, bumping into things, and making horrible gurgling noises, putting him at edge. Every bump made him belch and sometimes fart, the owlgon groaning with every impact against his sensitive middle.

Yet his gut didn't stop swelling, not even with the excessive emanations. He swore it was slowly growing as he went... He eventually decided, halfway through the day and far less than halfway through his farm, that if he was any worse tomorrow, he'd go and see the doctor. He couldn't rely on this just going away. Not with his lost productivity!

He was at a very low mood indeed when he finally decided to give up and go to bed. He was struggling to complete his duty AND his future crop was already a failure. He even struggled a bit to get in his own burrow, the doorway catching his bloated sides! With some pushing, he popped in, groaning at the effort. He quickly waddled to bed, wanting absolutely nothing more of this terrible day.

* * *

He knew immediately what he was going to be doing today as he slowly woke up: He was going to the doctor. The first thing he felt as he came to was the immense pressure pushing against his middle, spreading his limbs apart even further.

What one berry could do, he thought, as he literally rolled out of bed. His gut was so large, his back was arched to accommodate it, its contents sloshing ominously with every movement. Once out of bed, he found it a no easier task to simply get out into the living room; every step took reaching over that belly and dragging himself forwards! That gut brushed the ground now, wobbling with every shaky step forwards.

As he struggled his way into the living room, he heard knocking at the door. Oh, not now! He swore and dragged himself forwards with even greater vigor. Soon, he sighed and collapsed, however, the effort tooo much.

"Uhh, come in..." he shouted, accepting the fact that his visitor would see him in a rather embarrassing state.

But nobody came in. Grumbling, the spherical owlgon waddled and wobbled his very low way to the front door. "I said, come in..."

Still, nothing happened. He gently opened the front door, only to catch a glimpse of nobody standing outside. Were they really going to make him exit the house? Well, he had to leave to go to the doctor's, anyways, so...

He took one step outside the confines of his home, and... His forward progress stopped entirely. His belly gurgled as it hit the doorframe, already a nuisance yesterday, but now an enemy. He was far wider than the narrow frame now! He pushed and shoved, slowly getting an inch of bloated belly through... Then another inch, the effort making him pass gas haltingly...

He stopped, panting and wheezing with the effort. Groaning, he soon realized he was stick inside. He soon pushed backwards with his front legs, accepting his fate and going back in... But he couldn't do that, either. His gut billowed around the frame, catching him tight. He was stuck!

He pushed back and forth, swearing loudly and whimpering in equal measures. This annoying knocker was really going to pay... Once he got stuck and unbloated. He was growing increasingly afraid he wasn't going to get to be either of those things... Until he was interrupted in his struggles.

"Ah, sorry about that, Mr. MacNachtan. I had to leave for a second."

Krown gulped and very slowly turned his head. From the side of his house came walking in a certain black-furred wolf. The Kay spokesman. The well-dressed wolf did not have a folder in his hands.

He quickly decided to swallow his pride. "Oh, no worries! Look, can you go and fetch my doctor? He's-"

"I'm afraid not." he interrupted, walking towards the owlgon. "You know, it's a shame our company isn't able to work with you and your assets..."

"Wh- what?" Krown's eyes boggled. "Why can't you-"

He was interrupted once more as the wolf approached Krown's side, his voice calm and cool. "However, I'm glad you enjoyed our newest product. Quite experimental."

Suddenly, everything clicked. Krown's blood ran cold.

The spokesman patted the helpless dragon's side. It rumbled menacingly as it sloshed, making Krown grit his teeth. "It didn't perform well on test audiences, sadly. But luckily for us, the sales of our existing products should be boosted very soon."

Krown quickly responded. "What? Look, I was totally going to accept your next offer. Please, just let me look at it, and- And-"

Where Krown stuttered, the spokesman responded with practiced iciness. "We have rescinded all our previous offers." As the owlgon flailed, he suddenly slammed into his gut with surprising force.

With a pop, Krown rolled back into his house, limbs flailing in the air. He soon found himself resting on his back, completely unable to do anything about it. In a moment, he saw the feet of the salesman enter his view, making him snarl.

"Get off of me, you- UUURRRP!"

Krown was suddenly pushed into, making him roll and pass gas. He groaned as he felt himself hit the doorframe again, this time with a very strong businessman shoving him through. He protested weakly as inch after inch of his bloated body was squeezed through that tight space.

Just as he thought he was going to pop from the effort, he was pushed through. He tumbled like a beachball through the door and out into the fields, the owlgon dazed by the violence suddenly rocking his body. Groaning, he landed near a row of bacon trees, and watched hazily as the wolf walked after him.

"As you can see, our new product causes a bit of bloating after the fact. About three days worth of it, in fact." He quietly, calmly said as he rolled Krown even further into the heart of his proud farm. "It wears off, luckily for our test subjects. But I'm afraid I can't say it'll wear off of you."

"Please! I'll do anything!" Krown begged. "Just don't k-"

"Anything?"

"Uhhh... Sure. Anything."

"Well, then." he said as he continued to roll him along, the faintest hint of a smile gracing his muzzle. "How about you do some taste-testing for us?"

Krown would have asked questions, but he was soon rendered speechless as he was rolled right to his destination. In front of him was a glass cylinder on wooden stilts. Inside was a huge pile of small, brownish-pink berries, and sticking out of the bottom was a funnel and a hose.

Krown immediately knew what was going on. "Oh, no, no, no more of those, please-"

"We have to get rid of our failed products somehow, I'm afraid," the businessman said, cutting Krown short, "and you're perfect for the job." Krown could only watch, wiggling his limbs as the wolf grabbed the hose. On the end of the hose was some harnessing equipment- A mass of straps to keep the thing tied to him.

And soon enough, despite his struggles, the tip of the hose went right to his muzzle. Straps quickly went in place around his snout, locked tightly around him, keeping his muzzle clamped shut around the hose.

"Mmmmmph!" Was all he could say as the wolf went along his business silently.

He soon stepped back to admire his handiwork, before letting out a soft 'ah'. "I almost forgot one thing. Mr. Kay himself wanted you to have this. It's based on him, I've been told." He took a step back, rummaged through some equipment on the ground next to the berry tank, and pulled out some long, black tube-looking object.

As he got closer, Krown realized exactly what it was. It was a huge, maybe even a foot long, dildo. It was shaped into a horse cock, flared tip and all, and it had a very wide base. Krown's eyes boggled at the sight.

"Mmmph! MMPH!" he whined, as the wolf disappeared from view behind him.

It only took a second before he felt that thing go exactly where he knew it was going. He struggled and moaned into the feeding hose as pain shot through his rump. He just forced the thing right in! He strained with all his might, but not a single fart could even escape past the thing, stretching out his insides and making him squirm...

He went still, however, as the businessman once again appeared in view, walking over to the tank of berries and messing with a mechanism.

"It was a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. MacNachtan. Goodbye." And with that, he walked off. However, Krown was much more concerned with the stream of berries now tumbling down the tube.

He couldn't even wriggle his head with his restraints, forcing him to watch in horror as those fruits were funnelled right towards his snout. They hit his tongue all at once, pouring in to fill his mouth in a second flat! The sweet taste only make him know and dread more what was to come...

He was forced by the flow to swallow. And then swallow again. And again. He whimpered softly as he, sitting alone there in his farm, consumed batch after batch of inflation berries. He could even feel his stomach, so painfully bloated with whatever juice was roiling inside there, fill out with the heavy berries, making him grow all the more...

It lasted for an eternity. Endless time passed as Krown did nothing but swallow and groan. So he almost didn't even notice it when he swallowed, but there was nothing in his mouth.

He suddenly shot to attention. They were gone! He'd eaten them all! Hope began to pass through his mind. Maybe if someone found him, he could finally get to see the doctor...

But his dreams were shattered quickly when he felt his stomach gurgle ominously. The gurgling started softly, but quickly rose to a high volume and intensity, making the owlgon clutch his stomach in worry.

The berries, quite suddenly, began to function. His belly creaked and sloshed as he felt more inside of it... Soon, the owlgon, already a sphere, began to grow in size, belly expanding in all directions, filling up with even more...

Such a number of berries led to such fast growth. He struggled as he felt his limbs sink into his overburdened stomach, constantly in gurgling, sloshing motion as he expanded. The pressure rose to an unbearable amount, his hide beginning to feel taut, and only thinning as he grew...

He flapped his wings and swished his tail as he groaned in derision, but soon he could hardly even do that as his spherical nature overtook everything. He just kept growing, his feathery, scaly hide creaking with every bit of juice that got added to his frame. Gurgle, creak, gurgle, creeeaaak...

He was whimpering and moaning as he just kept expanding to new sizes. His skin felt paper-thin, scales pushed apart to reveal all underneath. He began to see his neck and chest in the corners of his vision as his head sunk right into his belly, and him limbs were soon lost in his inflating gut.

He slowly got a higher and higher view of his precious farm as he expanded. He was taller than the trees now! He looked down on them, and down on his own hopelessly large body, and whined...

But yet the berries kept going inside of him. He couldn't relieve a single bit of pressure, between the de-facto butt plug and the feeding hose... It just built and built in him. His hide soon felt beyond paper-thin, ominous red stretch marks slowly creasing across his gut...

Those red marks travelled up his belly, up and down, until his skin was almost translucent, showing the pinkish stuff trapped inside him. The pressure was unbearable, making Krown's head pound, and only growing...

Soon, he felt himself stop expanding, his hide reaching it's utter limit. It quivered with its contents, the pressure unimaginable... Krown got one last look at the expanse of his farm below, his teeth clenched as hard as he could, as he tried to hold on...

But that was all the owlgon could take. In a single instant, the owlgon became nothing more than a puff of feathers and a huge, fast tide of pinkish liquid, flattening every single tree on the farm within seconds and obliterating all evidence.

* * *

The next day, Krown's distributor pulled his truck up to the farm, as usual. What he didn't expect to see, however, was a flat, lifeless expanse of wet ground instead of a farm.

He just shrugged and turned his truck around. Perhaps Kay finally did buy the farm, he thought. Little did he know, in actuality, Krown did.