Of Monks And Maws

Story by RoadkillRaccoon on SoFurry

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This is just a little sketch of a story to get myself writing prose again. Not perfect but hey it's fun and horny. Not sure if this needs a mature tag but i'm slapping one on anyway because kink shit. Enjoy!

This follows the adventure of the stoner Tauren monk Dal Red-eyes! Takes place during MoP.


Dal Red-eyes gazed glassily at the sprawl of white fluff before him as he sat on a rickety bridge on The Peak Of Serenity. He shook his head lightly every now and then to clear the small flecks of snow that would collect on his mane. Pandaria was nice to a tauren like Dal, especially among the monks. Their lives of discipline also came with an "ebb and flow" sort of mentality that made it pretty easy to lure fresh-faced monks into his gut, especially after communing with them over a drink or a few puffs of Mulgore green (which he carried a considerable amount of in a pouch around his neck).

Dal decided to recline (receiving some creaking protest from the bridge), stare at the stark sky, and rub his now considerably rounder gut, thinking of all the cute pandaren that added to it. After a couple of minutes of daydreaming, Dal's view of the sky was replaced with the appearance of a very stern looking Pandaren with his arms crossed.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of receiving one of those oh so famous Master Hight glares?" Dal mumbled.

"Zen masters do not glare Red-eyes, they search a person's soul with their eyes."

"Woah," Dal lied there, eyes wide, "that's pretty wicked."

"What is wicked," Hight snapped, "Is that you've been packing on weight by eating all of our new students," Dal shook the bridge wildly as he began to stand up to meet the master face to face. Despite Dal's massive height difference, his considerable hunch made "face to face" near possible. "How do you expect us to defeat the Sha with no manpower?" Hight finished.

"Whaddya talkin' about? You've got yer manpower." Dal leaned his head back so he could shove his massive belly into Master Hight's face, "It's all just condensed into one little tauren." Master Hight stammered for a moment before shoving the flab away.

"This is ridiculous. I cannot have you consuming more students, we've offered you room and board and training and you have been doing nothing but squandering those resources."

"Untrue, I ate that pupil Pao Lung after knocking him out in a duel with a pretty sick palm thrust I learned from Master Ox." Dal said.

"Enough!" Hight shouted. He lowered his voice to a whisper, "I am going to be the good master and appeal to the pupils abilities. How is this for a proposition; drinking contest, winner eats the loser." Dal raised his eyebrows ever so slightly, stunned that the master would offer up such a challenge.

"Woah, okay. Sounds cool, it'll be pretty fun to eat you in front everyone," Dal said.

"Oh do not be so cocky young Red-eyes, few can outdrink a healthy Pandaren!" Hight swiftly grabbed one of Dal's horns (which was met by many 'hey's and 'woah-woah's from Dal) and brought him down close to his face. "Training grounds. Tomorrow morning. Dawn. If you oversleep I will consume you in your bed." Hight gingerly let go of the Tauren's horn.


The next morning, the dawn shone brightly on the training plaza on The Peak. It cast the huge barrels of pandaren beer (and all of the monks that were flipping and kicking in their early morning training) in a brilliant orange light. Between the two barrels was a table with two wooden mugs on it. A formality really, everyone knew a real pandaren drinking contest involved drinking straight from the tap.

It wasn't long past sun-up that the contestants nearly simultaneously approached the table, Dal from the west and Hight from the east. Neither sat down at the table, and neither filled their respective mugs. The mighty fat warriors stood across from each other, staring, being kissed slowly by the rising sun. The air was thick with the silence between them. A few less than diligent monks had ceased their training and watched the two the way folks bracing for an adrenaline rush do.

Hight stepped up to one of the nearby barrels and with a swift flick of his paw sent its lid in an upward arc headed towards Dal. Dal caught it mid-air and tossed it aside. Hight single-handedly lifted the huge barrel up and tipped it towards his lips. He began chugging the beer. Beer began to trickle down his cheeks and chin, then eventually splattered onto the floor or got soaked up by his bare fluffy chest. As he guzzled, slowly his big belly began to distend ever so slightly. Some of the monks who had stopped training began to whoop and holler for their master.

When the barrel was kicked, Hight gingerly set it back on the ground. Dal nodded softly and shuffled over to his first barrel.

"I forgot to thank you for this challenge Master. I love beer basted pandaren." Dal's words were met with a sneer from Master Hight and a thunderous response from some of the other monks watching, a crowd that had begun to swell.

Dal fumbled with the top of his first barrel, and set it down gently when he finally got it off. He then proceeded to grab the barrel with both hands and chug it just as well as Hight did (with the same amount of sloppiness). Dal set his barrel down with a satisfied sigh and pat his now slightly distended belly which was now growling and gurgling with the sudden introduction of so much liquid.

Dal and Hight continued this showboat fashion of guzzling down entire barrels full of beer in front of the cheering crowd. It became quickly apparent as to why they both showed up barechested, for with each barrel, their bellies began to swell and slosh and gurgle. By Hight's fourth barrel, his gut had begun resting on the rough stone floor beneath him. Both parties were burping madly.

Once the monks began to realize they were quickly running out of beer they began to scramble to get more just to watch these two warriors get bigger and softer. Hight and Dal drank it all heartily and sloppily, not even waiting for the other to finish at this point. After his 7th barrel, Hight had to sit down to drink because his belly was so swollen with beer.

This blood pumping battle continued unabated, until Master Hight began to guzzle his 10th barrel. He stopped guzzling, and started sipping. Then, he started swaying (which was met by raucous applause from the monks cheering on Dal Red-Eyes. Master Hight dropped his barrel and fell over backwards, making an audible sloshing noise. His stomach gurgled and protested as if it were about to pop any second. Hight groaned weakly. Then the chants began to start, quietly at first, but then rising into a loud crescendo; "Eat him! Eat him! Eat him!" Those loyal to Master Hight couldn't bear to watch and began to disperse. It seemed like Dal Red-Eyes had won this one.

Dal Soaked up this applause with gusto. He blew beer basted kisses to his adoring fans and rubbed his huge swinging gut, which was nowhere near as immobilizing as it was on the smaller pandaren. Dal sauntered over to the nearly unconscious Hight and flopped down onto his own belly. He grabbed Hight's paws and began pulling them into his open maw.

Hight could vaguely feel the warm thick tongue playing with the pads of his paws. It wrapped around his ankles and caressed his legs. Slowly, Master Hight was being pulled into the thick cloud of bitter breath that was a very drunk Dal Red-Eyes maw. He barely knew what was happening, and was vaguely enjoying the sensations on his fur. If anything, Dal was a courteous predator, caressing Hight's legs and gripping the flab of his distended belly to pull him further in.

One might think Hight's enormous gut might prove a difficult pill to swallow, but as it was largely liquid, it easily folded into Dal's mouth as Master Hight was swallowed up to his belly button. He could feel Dal's throat tight and warm and comforting on his body. With each deep swallow, Hight disappeared more and more into Dal's stomach, which was now beginning to distend even further as it was filled with panda pudge. The audience was going wild.

Dal got Master Hight in all the way to his chest. They locked eyes for a moment, and Dal winked at the Master before shoving his head roughly into his throat. Dal brought his head back, showing off the prominent bulge in his throat the former Master of The Peak Of serenity made. When he was entirely swallowed, Dal let off an enormous satisfied sigh, and with great effort, flipped over on his back. Now, with the panda and double the amount of beer churning in his gut, he was very well immobile until he digested. So there, basked in the warm glow of the sun, Dal Red-Eyes napped as Master Hight slowly churned.