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Thicker

Chapter Seventeen

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1577

Gehart groaned, sinking deep into the back seat of the car, though there was nothing a fur of his sheer size could do to hide himself. He was too big, too round, swallowing up the car rather than the car swallowing him up, back when he had been nothing more than a little stag fawn. But those times were long gone by. It felt as if his head was barely visible sometimes, peering down over the vast mass of his chest and belly, swollen and round as if he had been comically pumped up and inflated in a cartoon sketch. And yet everything that was happening to him was so very real that it would have been impossible to ignore, even panting and trying to swallow his nerves at being out in public at such a size as he was.

The stag didn't even fit in the front seat of Khen's car anymore. That's how big he was. Of course, Khen said that his make of car was typically small and annoying and they'd really have to get something comfier, something at least a little roomier that Gehart could seat himself in again. It wasn't him, Khen said with a smile, it was the car. Both of them knew that he was lying but sometimes a fur needed those lies just to make themselves feel a little bit better, helping them along through the day.

He didn't go out much now that his weight was over one-thousand-five-hundred pounds, grossly obese, though no one had, as yet, said that to his face. He was constantly trying to preserve his modesty, tugging his shirt down over and over again, yet nothing he did detracted from the fact that his legs stuck out from his sagging gut, spilling over his belt and jeans where it could not possibly hope to be contained, appearing tiny and stunted, his whole demeanour the stuff of Khen's wet dreams and lewdest fantasies, even if those very much were not fantasies that should ever have been destined to step into the light of the real world.

Furs shouldn't be that big.

Khen had demanded that he go out though - well, practically. It was quite difficult, truly, to demand that a fur as large as Gehart did anything, in all honesty, but Khen tried his best, teasing him out with little trips and dates just to get his confidence up being outside again. Baby steps were more like thundering, great, big giant steps than anything else, the ground seeming to shake under his hooves even as he trundled down the street to the cafe on the corner. A caricature of a fur, the stag's gut had blown up even more and he squashed himself down wherever possible, flinching and turning away from whoever wanted to look at him. At least it would soon be the cooler, autumnal months and he would not be so hot all the time under so many layers of fat.

They hadn't known what to do about the taco truck, not yet. Gehart suspected that Khen was cooking up some idea but the buck had been elusive, telling the stag to just let him worry about that, to leave him to it. It hadn't taken much persuasion at all for Gehart to simply trust him on that count. He wanted someone else to take care of it, to sort out the colossal mess he'd made of his life, somehow.

Maybe Khen didn't believe him. Maybe Khen didn't think that the curse was real. Gehart had no real way of knowing on that count, afraid of the truth, whichever way the buck leaned. That was what kept his mouth shut and, perhaps too, just what made him go out on the date with Khen that evening after all.

It was a cooler evening, blessedly, and Gehart let the cooler air tickle his muzzle as he put down the window a little, though it felt strange to be in the back seat. They'd probably have fun when they went home again, he thought to himself, smile picking up a little at that thought. There hadn't been any issues like him feeling as if he was about to burst again since that time and, truly, he'd put it down to a freak incident. He must have been really in the moment and, well, things happened like that sometimes. The mind was one's own worst enemy, after all, and he wanted to believe so very badly that he had made it all up in a fit of something that not even he could explain.

The sex helped a bit. It helped rather a lot, in fact, even if some anxious part of his brain told him that it was all going to go wrong. That he was going to fill up. That his body wasn't going to be able to handle it. That he was going to burst. The mind liked to do things like that, it was said. But Gehart didn't have to let himself think that that could be true, even if he may well have been found to be lying to himself in the end.

"I know you don't want to go out but we don't have to stay the whole time if you don't want to."

Picking up his head, Gehart blinked at his buck - in the driver's seat, of course.

"That's nice...but I don't think we should leave Todd and his date hanging like that. It'll be good to see him again, especially now that I've been off work for a while."

Khen's eyes creased at the corners in a smile, reflected in the rearview mirror.

"I'm sure you have plenty to catch up on."

In all honesty, they had already caught up a little when Gehart had spoken to him on the phone beforehand. Of course, Todd didn't know the real reason that Gehart had been taken out of work but, well, it was not the sort of thing that took a genius to work it out, by any means. He had made up some reason that sort of worked with work and personal life - all that mattered was that that side was taken care of. Todd had wanted to fill him in on everything that had been happening back at work anyway and had taken over most of the conversation, Gehart smiling as he leaned back to listen, even then. After all that had happened, it was still good to hear a friendly voice.

It also allowed him a little less pressure out on the date, having more furs there to ease the tension just a little bit. It could not help but grow between him and Khen but that would surely be the way of it until the curse was lifted, until something was done. It was not their relationship that was bad but everything, quite rightly, surrounding it that made things strictly more difficult than they had to be.

And...well...it could be fun. Mini golf, Khen had said? That wasn't too bad.

Struggling from the car was the least of his worries; Gehart had more or less gotten the hang of that as his weight ballooned grossly. It was walking that was troublesome as he lumbered with as much grace as a ton of bricks towards the shack that denoted where the start of the mini golf course was. He wasn't sure whether he was trying to rush but, regardless of his motives behind setting off swiftly, there was nothing quick about his pace and all Gehart got was a head start, lumbering and bumbling along as if the very ground itself was rocking under his furious gait.

"How big..."

"Sheesh..."

"Wow..."

"Did you see..."

He tried not to listen. Of course, he was going to turn heads as furs stopped and stared, some hustled along their way by their friends. He was grateful for them. It meant that there were fewer left to gawk at him, although he had to admit too that there was plenty of him to gawk at. Khen told him so each and every day, still doing all he could to, at least in some small way, bolster his confidence. It was all he could hope for sometimes, Khen his biggest cheerleader amongst the most trying times of all.

"Hey, Gehart! Over here!"

Todd waved, the goat's grin wide and infectious even with his bushy beard half-obscuring it. Really, it was a wonder that the goat could even talk with so much hair growing from his face, curling out impressively. His girlfriend, a slender gazelle with striking orange fur cut through with black and white markings, stayed close to his side, looking about her as if she was not quite comfortable in that situation. Gehart smiled inwardly. Well, they'd be in good company then, at least. He wasn't so sure that he was all that comfortable around the tight confines of the mini golf course either. He eyed the entrance suspiciously, the narrow archway to the side of the hut. Were normal furs really supposed to fit through that gap too?

Todd's girlfriend's lips parted as they approached, Khen trotting lightly to catch up with his partner. Neither of them were supposed to hear what followed next as Todd grabbed her arm.

"Wow, he really does like them big..." Her eyes grew wide. "...I mean...big in character! Gehart, it's so nice to finally see...I mean meet you! I've heard so much about you!"

Her voice rose shrilly as Khen lifted an eyebrow and Gehart, even though it was impossible for him to do so, shrank back. It was merely a shift of weight but he hardly seemed to move at all, running his fingers back through his hair as if he was checking, even without a mirror, that he was presentable enough to be in public. At least his new clothes covered him well, although his paws kept going down to where his shirt was tucked into his pants, the smart slacks fitting well, thankfully, despite his size. Those had had to be custom-tailored but it was a small price to pay to feel comfortable again.

What had been said about him? Did he want to know? His gut twisted and rumbled uncomfortably with the remnants of his last meal. He hoped he wasn't going to see it again as his nerves roiled, getting the better of him.

The gazelle scuffed the toe of a cloven hoof, clad in a boot of sorts designed for her species, across the ground, the silence drawing out a second too long to be comfortable. Gehart suppressed the urge to groan while even Todd coughed awkwardly into his closed fist.

A joke may well have been a joke but Gehart twitched, uneasy and on edge. Did she mean that? What did she mean about it? It couldn't mean him, well...no. He was the "big" in that. Everything about him was "big". Did that mean that Khen liked them "big"? It was hardly any secret between them but just how did she know about that?

Introductions were made, the gazelle introduced as Tamsin, clasping Gehart's paw warmly, offered him a winning smile. That soothed his mind, at least a little, but little did he know that he was about to have his nerves rattled all over again. What was it about being his size that just seemed to do that to him? Everyone looked at him, making his skin crawl, prickling with uncomfortable heat... There simply didn't seem to be any end to it.

"Hey there! What can I get for you fine guys this night?"

The attendant's works were clunky, not seeming to match up with one another, even as the lemur grinned toothily down at them, standing so close to the hut that they may as well have been lined up to purchase their tickets, all ready to go.

"I see three putters and perhaps a whole team by himself waiting to go through! Sir, are you double-wielding today?"

Gehart blinked.

"I beg your pardon?"

The attendant smirked, cocking his head as if to make it more obvious what he was doing.

"Well, you're going to take up the space of at least two patrons so I thought you might like two clubs tonight - double wielding!"

The lemur laughed and leaned out through his window, cackling as if he had made the joke of the century, near enough toppling all the way through. Coughing politely into his paw, Todd looked away and even Tamsin rubbed her bare forearm, ears slipping back uncomfortably. Gehart flushed, sinking and sinking, though he only had rolls and rolls of fat to sink into. He couldn't hide in his bulk, as much as he wanted to, his gut dominating, demanding attention, a snarling growl teasing forth, hankering for too much in that moment alone.

But why did others think they had the right to laugh at him?

"I don't think that's that funny..."

Khen, however, stepped up with a look in his eyes that could have turned a sinner to god.

"Thank you." Khen said, his tone frozen. "We'll take four. Please."

The lemur's face dropped as he hastened to make up for what was an ill-timed joke, even if it had not been in all that great humour to begin with. He handed off the clubs with haste in his paws and, well, the others too were glad of it. There were a few extra tokens for drinks passed out that no one paid for, Khen's look terrifying the lemur into offering what perks he had been able to. No apology, however, was of course forthcoming.

It did not make Gehart any less self-conscious, however, as he wedged himself through the archway into the main course area, hoping that it would, at least, open up a bit. He held his breath and sucked in his gut as much as he could but that, of course, had little effect on the actual fat spilling forth from his belly like a wanton wave of flesh that had no real correlation to the rest of his body. The different parts of him no longer seemed to go together as Gehart huffed and puffed and tried to be discreet as possible, his antlers catching on the top bit of the woven wicker arch. It wasn't even that tall, for heaven's sake, either!

Somehow, the wicker and supporting frame creaking aggressively, he managed to pull himself through, miraculously without dislodging anything, which was a mean feat in itself for him. A flutter of petals from surrounding plants and leaves from the hedges, which were built perhaps for seclusion and privacy throughout the course. They towered over even Gehart and the stag flinched from them, retreating into himself even as he tried not to look at anyone else, other course-goes ahead of them. They would have a good head-start, he was sure, his gait not really conducive to moving at any sort of speed. And just how was he meant to handle a golf club in his comically tiny paws too?

He tried holding it first one way and then the other but it seemed to horrifically shrink within his paws, a change and chance that seemed to happen in the blink of an eye. Had it always been that small? There was no way to tell, even as he tried to make it more comfortable, blinking once and finding that the club had shrunk to no larger than his palm.

What?

_ _

And then it was back again, the normal size and yet too small for him still.

"Everything okay there?"

Gehart cleared his throat. The club looked normal. He turned it over in his paws. It had to have always been normal.

"Yeah... Yeah, it is."

Everything was too small for him and he gruffly turned away from Tamsin, embarrassed to even be there. Just what was she thinking of him, the lumbering fool who was with such a catch as Khen? They didn't know him, no one did, but that was only because he never let anyone in, fear curdling in the pit of his stomach, winding back and forth, a twisting, anxious dance of snakes.

Maybe he'd been the problem all along. Maybe it wasn't his eyes playing tricks on him, shrinking clubs when they should never have been able to do that. Maybe he was the problem. The stag's gut gurgled - loudly enough that it drew eyes and attention in that moment alone.

"Come on, Gehart, it'll be fun," Khen murmured to him, squeezing his arm. "I'll go first."

Maybe it would have been more fun still if he hadn't looked like a giant playing with kiddie toys with the tiny golf club clasped between his meaty paws. It was impossible to ignore just how large he was, try as he might, and Gehart swallowed his words, sinking into himself as he wished, simply to be anywhere else than where he was right there and then. He could have been home, flaked out watching TV, and that would have been far, far better than being out socialising with others commenting on his weight as if he could not see it for himself. Did they all think he was blind or something?

He clenched his jaw, bending over with difficulty, although it made his gut sag all the more, his abdominals not able to control such a heft of fat. It rolled out, bulging through his shirt, pulling it out of his trousers where he kept tucking it in, the beast striving and yearning to be unleashed. Just what did he think he was doing there when there was a curse on him? He couldn't have fun, not even when Khen said that he had things sorted, that Gehart didn't have anything to worry about anymore. He didn't believe even his partner, as caring as Khen was.

The stag's belly gurgled, rumbling, groaning, straining against the stretch of his hide. His abs were still under there somewhere but they had been swallowed up, devoured in one gulp, but the flab of his stomach, the heaving roll that blanked out everything else. Gehart didn't even know if they were still present under the heave of his gut, which swelled and fell forward as if it was trying to put itself on show, the stag sweating from the sheer nerves of being in such a position.

Would he tear another pair of pants out there? What would Tamsin think of him? Was she even looking at him right then? It was not that he was trying to impress her but that he wanted to simply make a good impression still, after everything that had happened, always presenting the best side of himself at all times. Yet that side of himself seemed loathe to come out as he swung the club carefully, the ball seeming small and woefully far away as his chubby arms wobbled and strained to come through on what was needed right then and there.

Come on, Gehart...

_ _

He tried to cheer himself on like Khen was apt to, the first hole a straight shot. He didn't have to even hit the ball very far to get past that one and, still, he fretted, his palms slippery with sweat as he feared bending over too far. The memory of the last pair of pants that he'd ripped, while walking out of the supermarket, nonetheless, in full view of everyone at the checkouts, still lingered fresh in his mind and it was hardly an experience that he at all wanted to repeat.

And yet things would repeat themselves over and over until the curse was lifted, Gehart grunting and swinging and praying all at the same time. The little ball skittered and rolled, seeming to bounce as his vision did not remain level, nausea roiling in the pit of his stomach, and he watched it hopelessly miss the hole. The stag stifled a growl of frustration that was by no means appropriate in such a situation, the customers who had come after them dithering back by the archway that he had struggled with, tall hedges surrounding them on all sides.

"Is he going to go?"

"I think he's already done it..."

"He hasn't hit the ball already, has he?"

"Wow..."

They weren't real, not the voices, the voices in his head, not even his snarling stomach enough to overrule and override them. Yet it was distracting in itself, trembling through his body, a rumbling, sickening writhe that he could not help but lean into, tipping forward even then as he tried to ease the pressure on his bulging belly. Gehart closed his ears to them as he stepped forward, heart in his mouth. How could something as simple as mini gold prove to be so difficult? It was as if the curse itself had been intended to affect all aspects of his life and not just his weight and his size, one thing having a knock-on effect into another thing and then another thing. Maybe that was the way that the crazy crow had wanted it to go all along? He had no way to know.

One more shot, blanking out the mutters of those waiting. He didn't want to hear what they were saying, surely some rubbish about him taking so long. He was sure that teenagers there, kissing and canoodling and what-not had taken much longer than him before as his gruff attitude rose up thick and fast, his lips firmly turned down with his expression set. Let them wait. They could wait. They could all wait for him. But maybe it was the fact that he had forced others to wait and bend to his will that things had all gone wrong in the first place?

Intrusive thoughts clouded in and he tried not to think, tried not to listen, painfully, grotesquely slow as he hit the ball two more times, only gaining a little more control over the club. Why was the damn thing so hard to handle? His paws weren't that much bigger but they were unwieldy and he wondered, dimly, whether he would even be able to hold and use a pen properly anymore. Typing on any keyboard would be hard enough then and his phone screen, well... That one was a lost cause.

As he finished, grumbling to himself and trying to make some sort of half-jokey excuse about his pace that didn't come out the way he wanted it to, Gehart's phone pinged. With a squeeze and a grunt, he painstakingly dragged it from the tightness of his pocket, fabric strained over his flesh, flipping open the screen after a couple of tries. While Khen smiled sheepishly, half-shrugging, the next lot of customers groaned out loud.

"God..."

"Pizza Cabin - new deal! Fifty-per-cent off!" He read aloud. "Am I even signed up to this deal thing? And another one... Mexican Food Galore - buy one get two free! This doesn't make sense... And there's more..." His phone pinged, new message after message popping up, stabbing its way across the screen. "What is this?"

Frowning, Gehart rolled his eyes and tucked his phone back away in his pocket, although he had to fight to get it shoved back in there. His fat got in the way even there, stifling and closing in on him from all sides. He sighed, upset with how he was disappointed in himself and something more again too, even then.

"That's not even that good a deal..."

He caught Tamsin's eyes on him as he swapped places with her, letting her step up to the mini green to take her own shot with her ball. There was plenty of course left to go but she seemed to keep a wary eye on him while she lined herself up, ears twitching all the while. Gehart's frown soured further. Maybe she was intimidated by him? It wouldn't have been the first time that someone had backed away from him simply because of his size. Maybe she thought that he should get the deal; after all, someone as fat as him had to be hungry all the time, always all the time. That was how furs like him got to such a size, eating and eating and eating and not doing anything right.

Well, maybe the second thing was right in his case. Not doing anything right, at least from the point of screaming at the taco truck lady, had easily become his speciality. Maybe everything thought that he was fucking everything up, making a mess of everything, everything going wrong for him, because of him.

"Nice shot, Tamsin!"

That jolted him back to reality like the shock of having a bucket of colder dumped over him. Khen was just as supportive of her as he was of Gehart - it was her first time giving mini golf a go too - as they moved onto the next hole, Gehart puffing as he wriggled his way down between two tall hedges. He supposed they were there for privacy but he thought that they were simply there to make things difficult for him.

"Don't worry, hun, it'll get easier!"

Just how could Khen be so chirpy about something like that? Gehart turned his muzzle away but it was difficult too to not want to lean into the warmth of the deer who made his life worthwhile, the one who had been there for him through everything. Hell, Todd had even been there for him through the worst of his weight gain, everything ramping up and becoming direr and direr as he could barely move. Truly, it was harder than even Gehart was willing to let on merely to walk and waddle but he didn't want Khen to worry any more than he was. He could see it in the buck's eyes, how his muzzle creased when Gehart fought to get off the sofa, his belly dictating whichever direction he rocked into. He wouldn't push him but Khen had promised he would help Gehart however he could, whether he believed in the curse or not, and, for that, Gehart loved him all the more.

Smiling faintly with the hedges closing in privately on either side of them, Khen caught Gehart's arm, eyebrows raising as if he had something very important to say. Before the stag could react, the more agile deer had bounced up and put a kiss on his lips, though he struggled to keep the stag's head down at his level, putting a paw on the back of Gehart's neck, though he could no more shift the beastly stag than stop the turning of the earth on which they both stood. It was just the way of it when someone was so hefty but that didn't stop the buck from pressing in as close as possible, the round of Gehart's stomach as enticing as it had ever been for the coaxing, caressing sweep of his paws.

"Cheer up..."

He breathed, lips brushing Gehart's even as he lightly was forced to drop back down, unable to stay so close to Gehart with his swollen stomach keeping him at a distance. Tamsin and Todd moved on ahead, oblivious to what was going on behind them.

"It'll all be worth it for getting out and...well...something else later too... You know what I mean?"

Khen licked his lips and if Gehart had not known what he meant, the thick meat in his underwear throbbing wantonly even then, he certainly did as Khen strained up and grabbed his muzzle. He had to push all the way up onto the tips of his hooves to get there and he would not have dared grab one of Gehart's antlers unless he was angling for some particularly rough play later on, but the kiss was there and it was deep, tongues twirling and twining around and against one another as Khen squeezed in as close as possible to Gehart. His arms would only go around Gehart's stomach but that was the best part of him, when it came to physicality, in Khen's opinion, and neither of them was about to complain one bit as Khen's need twitched up against his belly, a thickness growing in the crotch of his jeans.

"Gawd... Get a room, would you?"

"Yeah, like, seriously..."

But not even that outburst behind them was going to put Gehart off from laughing and hugging his lovely buck, holding him close as the giggled and waddled down the hedge hallway like younger lovers, not caring who they put out. And that was just the way, sometimes, that it was supposed to be, that kind of closeness that could be forgotten in the swathe and the flummox of real life. He needed Khen and Khen needed him to. Gehart smiled, genuinely that time. Sometimes that was all there was to it.

His phone pinged again and he glanced at it, lips turning down very slightly as an ad for tacos popped up in another text message. That was worse than the pizza one, even the Greek food one with a fat deer in the image attached to it. It was almost as if it was being targeted directly at him, but who would do that? It didn't seem like something that the taco lady would do, not with her grasp of the English language proving a touch difficult for her, so what could it all be about? He hadn't signed up to anything like that and more texts still popped up, one after the other.

Come try our special spicy wings - twenty-per-cent off!

_ _

Take a walk on the wild side with African beef and cuts of meat! Speciality burgers!

_ _

Hungry Lion meals now buy one get one free!

Thicker burritos than anywhere else!

_ _

Bigger burgers! Only sold here!

_ _

Bigger!

Thicker!

_ _

THICKER!

_ _

Gehart's eyebrows shot up as Khen threw a questioning glance his way.

"What's up? Your phone's going off like you've got another boyfriend hidden away somewhere."

Gehart sweated and shook his head, fumbling with his phone as dampness slickened his palms. Only if that other boyfriend was a fully-stacked pile of pancakes, judging from the latest ad that popped up, complete with a dripping stack of maple-syrup pancakes to top it off that made his mouth water simply glance at it. He wanted it but he didn't, both colliding at the same time, a chaotic notion that just didn't make any sense to his gurgling, grumbling gut.

One by one, Khen looking on, he deleted the messages. He didn't want to be tempted, not even as much as his gut bulged, trying to drag him forward with the colossal weight of it.

Taco-delish - only here!

Best delete that one. Quickly too.

Shaking his head all over again, his neck aching, Gehart's frown deepened. It did, however, come with a greater lightness of heart than it had before.

"I keep getting these texts, these ads... You think someone's signed me up to a list somewhere?"

He didn't say what they were about. Khen shrugged.

"Most likely. We'll sort it when we get home, hun, don't worry."

Ah, good old Khen, always there to make sure that he didn't worry, that he knew that everything would be alright and, even as he was right then, able to take care of everything and anything for Gehart. It made him feel a little more capable on the second hole of the course, a simple set up with a couple of zigzags for the putters to work their way through with the golf ball, but nothing at all too strenuous for the average fur. The second hole went better than the first and he even managed to squeak out a little cheer for Tamsin as she, very skilfully for her first time, managed to get a hole in one, which was no easy feat when she was not quite sure what she's doing.

"It's like teaching them maths in school," she giggled, graciously accepting the praise with a little jig. "All in the angle. Come on, I'll show you!"

It was not Khen's forte (he was more the sort to swing and attempt anything but not worry too much about the technicalities unless it was in the field of something that particularly interested him) but Tamsin proved to be an excellent teacher, in fact. Though it was, perhaps, to be expected as she revealed that it was her profession, teaching younger students, even though sports instruction was usually something beyond her. When it came down to mini golf, however, it proved on that hole and the third that followed it, that one a little more complicated with a tiny bridge to cross too, she even managed to direct him so that he got a hole in just two tries, which was better than anything else so far!

Grinning, Gehart could even ignore the chirping of his phone going off over and over again as he raised his club triumphantly!

"Hey, watch it!"

A teenage skunk frowned and popped her gum as she scooted by, wary of Gehart's stomach. It was hard to squeeze by though, a hedge in the way, bristles poking her in the back as she popped her gum again and complained loudly. Gehart flinched and muttered something that he meant to be an apology, though the words were far too muffled to be heard by her. The course closed in around him, hedges looming, the decorative fences stifling, a lighthouse for the next hole seeming to push over him, to shove him back and down.

The skunk scowled darkly. It seemed that he had almost clocked her over the head with the golf club but he could not have expected anyone to be that close to him either when his friends and loved one were in front of him. She scowled as if he had done something terrible to her, looking him up and down with an exaggerated sweep of her eyes.

"Fatso..."

Gehart baulked but she'd already turned tail. It was over and done with already.

"Come on, guys, we'll be here forever behind that lard-butt..."

Her friends scooted by along with her but they hardly looked pleased to be with the skunk who had been so open with her disparaging comments, though there was nowhere that the stag could flinch back into or hide in, his bulk on display for all to see. It was as it was and no amount of deep breaths would truly slow the frantic pace of his heart for it had already been ramped up by his ever-increasing weight. It would never again, at least in his mind, return to its soft pound, the rhythmic beat of the moderately thick in the waistline, just hammering harder and harder while his nerves twitched and jumped anxiously.

"Come back here and say that again - to me this time!"

Khen glowered and looked about to give chase as the skunk beat a hasty exit, though it was Gehart's paw on his shoulder that stopped him.

"Don't worry about it," Gehart said with a half-shrug, his good spirits not all that dampened down as yet. "She'd probably call anyone who wasn't a size zero fat. And, hey, I have got a few extra pounds!"

Making fun of himself, he owned his size, poking his stomach as Todd roared and guffawed, bending over to a degree that Gehart was no longer capable of and slapping his thigh.

"A few! You say... You've got... Gehart!"

But the laughing goat with his thick, fluffy beard was not able to get out any more beyond his chortles, Tamsin even joining in with a light giggle, covering her lips with her paw. It was easier to laugh than it was to fret but they were only beginning down the path of a night that was set to come to devious delights only in due course.

Gehart didn't notice how the hedges closed in, getting narrower and tighter, until he was stuck between two of them, trying to laugh even as he sweated, twigs and sharp thorns from the hawthorn pricking through his shirt. If it had been winter, he might have been better-set in a jacket but there was nothing there to protect the stag's skin bar his fur in many places, unable even to twist too much for fear of getting his antlers caught too.

"Ah..." Gehart tugged at his collar, his stomach rolling out from under the bottom hem of his shirt. "Mm..."

It was uncomfortable at best and the worst... Well, he didn't want to think about that. No, not at all. The prickly thorns - it must have been a Hawthorne hedge, he knew that from somewhere - dug into him, pricking at his skin, clawing at his clothes like a beast that was trying to drag him back.

Maybe it was the crow, the taco-truck lady, come to get him. He could see her beak, her eyes darkening to "beady", unlike her real form. She wasn't a witch, not like that, not in how his mind twisted and warped her. He saw a fiend but she twisted into himself all over again in his mind's eye, becoming huge and bulbous, the hedge no longer prickling but cloying and heaving, the bulk of his gut rumbling. All it knew was to devour and, in time, it would swallow him up whole too, as if he didn't matter at all to the wrath of such a gluttonous, swelling being. Was that all he was?

"Gehart! Hey, hey - you're okay!"

Luckily, Khen was there to help him and, in another twist of good fortune, Todd and Tamsin were far enough ahead (it was not difficult to outpace Gehart) to not see him. But even as Khen dragged him out of the small gap, popping him free like an oyster from its shell, the stag's eyes were fixed on an advertisement board selling the latest new fast food phenomenon. His mind flipped to the next thing immediately, turning from one nightmare to the next, the hedges still too close, so very close, everything too small for the bulk and a belly that only knew how to dominate.

Even him. Even he was dominated by his own stomach.

But it didn't matter what it was as he turned his gaze from it, each one that followed it drawing his eye. Fritters, doughnuts, sweet mousses, burgers, hot dogs and so much more. The course seemed to make their money in advertising and Gehart gasped, sweating desperately as his legs shook, whole body vibrating. Why did they have so many? Had they put them up just for him? Had they, somehow, known he was coming? But how could they have known he was coming? How? How?

"Hey, easy now, it's okay... We don't have to get anything..."

And yet his stomach growled and growled, telling him that it was wrong, not true. Khen was lying to him and he wanted every last one of those delicious foods, everything that he had denied himself for so long. He'd held back from Khen's takeaways and treats, bar on Khen's birthday, and his stomach growled for the sustenance that had been denied, everything that he had thought would stop the encroach of his weight creeping and stomping up on him with increasing urgency.

It hadn't done him any good... So why fight it anymore? His gut rumbled, growling and growling as if it was never going to end. Gehart panted, the world spinning darkly, the course blurring, laughter whipping around him: the bondage that took him for a ride with his gut dictating the course.

"Gehart? Gehart?"

The stag shook himself off, chancing a small yet shaky smile. It was unconvincing at best, the evening slipping into sunset with his antlers catching a hint of crimson and orange in the best kind of light. It was a shame that Khen wouldn't get the chance, at least not that night, to appreciate it. He didn't want to let him know how much he was struggling, how much his guts churned, how much everything had gotten on top of him. Maybe Khen already knew. Gehart swallowed, his smile faltering. Who was he kidding? Khen already knew. Khen always knew.

"Yeah... I'm coming."

It was all downhill from there as Gehart practically threw away the game. It was not intentional, not at first, but even the golf club seemed tinier and tinier in his massive, oversized paws. Could he say that he was supersized as yet? A tricky hole with many zigzags and a spot where the ball had to "hop" over a half-raised bridge (like a superhero jumping a car over the type of bridge that would raise to allow larger ships through) proved the most troublesome and he grunted and growled, slamming the club into the green over and over, frustration getting the better of him.

"It is a terrible design..."

Tamsin tried to comfort him, tried to show him how he could do it, but Gehart couldn't listen to her - not then. He had to move on and try to save face, do something to make himself look better. It was all about appearances, after all, and it was his appearance that had gotten him into such trouble in the first place - yes, that was it. It wasn't anything he'd said, nothing he'd said, just the fact that someone was intent only on picking on yet another fat guy as if they had nothing else better at all to do in their sorry excuse for a miserable life.

The course was ridiculously tight and windy and small and Khen apologised profusely time after time again, saying that he wouldn't have suggested it if he'd known it had been so rickety. Gehart tried to laugh it off but each and every time his laugh became louder and faker, something that was all too easy to see through as they tried to make him feel better, dark patches of sweat showing through under his arms and across his chest, the lines of his fat rolls breaking through in dark patches also. It was hard not to sweat with so much extra weighing him down and Gehart belatedly cursed himself for leaving his deodorant stick in the car. Maybe he should have doubled up with the extra fur wash too before going on but he just hadn't had time to dry himself off if he'd showered fully beforehand...

Damn it.

_ _

Nothing was going right and everything was going wrong as he grunted, pinging the golf ball off the side of the course, not even in the designated area for the current hole. That one was set up as if it was a forest, the markers to bounce the ball off being trees, yet his legs were far thicker than even what they'd used to design the course, his interest in it failing as he took an untimely step back and something snapped underfoot.

Gehart winced.

"What was that?"

A fake toadstool succumbed to his weight but that was not the full extent of it as he stumbled and broke the edge of the course too, the little wooden divider that was intended as a start box of sorts for the putter. It crackled like kindling and was probably as strong as such too but Gehart's heart still plummeted, looking around him at the destruction like a kid who had dropped their ice cream.

It was wrong, all wrong, another step backing him into the fake boat that covered one of the holes, one of the trickier shots to land all by itself. The fence splintered and he muttered apology after apology, breath caught in his throat, wanting to escape but only finding another barrier in his way, wood breaking, paint flaking away.

It stuck to him, those tiny flakes and chips of paint, and he gasped as he tried to brush them off. His belly howled and there was nowhere for him to go, turning and turning, seeing the faces that he knew well but could not interact with. He was trapped, caught up in his own nightmare, a nightmare from which he could never escape.

Wherever he went, he destroyed everything, his belly in the way, bulging and growling. Khen tried to stop him but his ragged cry broke free before he could call it back, his heart pounding and pounding, though it was his belly that dragged him down, that commanding his each and every move.

"Gehart?"

How had he thought that he could escape it? How could he have ever have thought that he could go out and have fun? After all that he'd done, he didn't deserve it, hadn't earned it, the monster still there with him, carried along every day. It wasn't for him, nothing was for him, squashed and backed up into a corner from which he had no option but to face the horrific enormity of all that he had become.

Not privy than any of that, Khen squeezed his arm comfortingly, concern flaunting across his face, although he knew better than the stag himself how little Gehart liked to cause a scene. Which was...exactly what he was doing. Slow and quiet, yes, that was the way of it: Gehart knew that he had to be slowed down, his fluttering heartbeat pounding, erratically pulsing. And yet Gehart made it more and more difficult to fly under the radar of anything with his bulging belly and trembling gut to lead the way, such a huge round drawing eyes, his own flicking back and forth constantly.

"Don't worry, we'll just tell them about the...accident when we get through the course, we have to walk all the way through to get back to the staff anyway."

He couldn't hide his frustration and disappointment in himself too, phone pinging all the while, although he did not dare look at it for fear of the advertisements that he was sure were popping up. Someone must have been playing a terrible joke on him, yes, that was it, but it wasn't funny at all and, out there somewhere, the crow lady smirked down at him, preparing herself to stuff more and more into his gob, sealing his fat fate away forevermore.

The club was too small and he fussed over a hole, turning it around and around in his paws. It didn't seem to fit there anymore, too small and too clunky, strange to hold. Yet he managed to push on, gasping for breath, trying desperately to show just how well he was coping, how he could keep pushing on through it all. Still, his legs shook from even that physical exertion and the sweat hung around him in a thickening cloud of body odour, more and more other customers passing them, although they had to squeeze and shove themselves into obstacles along the course and the hedges too just to get by. Some didn't even try and went back the way they came, perhaps wanting to walk all the way around rather than worry about squeezing past a hot and sweaty fur who was taking up more space than anyone had any right to.

"Oh! That was a good one!"

Fake. Fake, fake, fake, fake-ity fake. It was all fake and he knew it was too as he stumbled and tried to laugh it off, everything too loud, blood roaring in his ears as his heart pounded. Todd said something and he laughed again at that, although he didn't have the foggiest idea what the goat had said. If he kept laughing, perhaps everything would be okay, the world spinning around him, heaving and panting and gasping, the world closing in for his ultimate doom.

A break. He couldn't deny the need for it any longer and bent over at the waist as he plopped himself down too hard on a bench, the wood cracking but, blessedly, the metal frame holding. That was something, at least, and he took a long, thirsty swig from the bottle that Khen had brought along with them. Just water... He could have done with something stronger, a lot stronger, but who knew just how much alcohol it would have taken to actually get him drunk and take the edge off his inhibitions in his current state. He took up enough space for four bodies (maybe five, but he was being kind to himself), shamed by the fact that everyone else still had to stand simply so that he could sit and catch his breath. Not even a pause while standing cut it anymore.

The game... It had to be done, done and over. Rushing everything, he got his tries over with as quickly as possible, aiming wildly and, sometimes, not aiming at all when it so suited him. He was happier getting his turn over and done with so he could rest and try to drag breath back into his lungs than taking his time to enjoy the game. The stag's rush, however, hindered him as much as it helped him as he tried to get into a tight space too hastily behind one of the cheesier sets - a shark's mouth that he had to fire the ball straight into while it opened and closed. It met the same swift fate as the bench and the barrier and - oh, did he need to catalogue everything that he'd broken in there so far?

"Hey, buddy, you got enough meat on your bones over there?"

He blushed heavily, turning his back on the titters. Furs could be cruel and that was no different when they were younger and less experienced, more immature than anything else. More and more flustered, he grunted and wedged himself back out, doing his best not to look at anyone else, even though Todd too joined in with it, albeit more light-heartedly than those who sought only to put down someone they would never see again.

"Been having a few too many pies there, eh, Gehart?"

The stag flushed and Khen elbowed Todd away, shooting him a look. The goat, however, was a little pink in the face and may have had a touch to drink with Tamsin before joining them at the course, which showed in the darker skin on the insides of his ears. Although his beard had grown out spectacularly, presumably as a result of a botched curse on the part of the old crow lady, the hair on the rest of his body had remained the same, to Gehart's knowledge, and there was little about him that didn't wear his emotions and his heart out there on his sleeve.

Gehart crushed yet another display but didn't turn to look as his butt took something or the other out - what did it even matter anymore? All he could do was keep on and keep on, keep on keeping on, huffing and puffing and pushing his belly out before him, parting the way for him. He didn't even try to be discreet moving from hole to hole, laboriously lumbering even though he thought he was going at quite a lick of a pace, as there was no way for him to hide his bulk, as much as he folded his paws and arms over his gut when standing still. It only drew attention to his gut, however, the whispers following them with increasing frequency as Khen scowled and muttered about getting a manager.

"Don't..." Gehart hissed. "It'll only make it worse."

He was, perhaps, savvier than Khen in that regard and knew he didn't want things to escalate, to spin out of proportion as he heaved and tried to suck it in, not even the once asking for help. He couldn't, he wouldn't, he was a self-sufficient stag and that was the way he'd always been. No one should have ever have had to be inconvenienced by him, by his bloated belly, the way that he was always, well, in the way...and yet they were. Others wanted to pass him as he wheezed and twisted, doing everything he could to regain his breath, but not even pausing for the others to play their turns allowed any more breath back into his lungs as he finally made eye-contact with Khen, pleading with a look alone.

Please...

_ _

It was enough. He couldn't get the words out but Khen knew what was needed and that he'd too had to wait for Gehart to come to that realisation himself. Maybe mini gold hadn't been the best date to suggest after all... The big stag needed space, room to breathe, desperately trying to get through the course to the end of it, wanting, if only, to complete the date that Khen had begged him to go on. He'd said that getting out would be good for Gehart and the stag so very badly wanted to believe that even as his sweet buck smiled and clapped his paws, looking ahead where a sign was placed with text that blurred before the strained stag's eyes.

"Well, guys, looks like we're nearly at the end!"

Although Todd and Tamsin made sounds of disappointment - they, at least, had been enjoying themselves - they all knew that it had had to come to an end at some point and Gehart, to say the very least of it all, could not be more thankful to see some sort of end in sight. His heart, however, sank like a stone as Todd mentioned drinks but Khen, luckily, was already shaking his head, taking charge and taking control in the best way he could when he had to step up to the plate to manage such a situation.

"It's still so hot out..." Khen said, putting his paw to his forehead. "I'm sorry, but I think I'll need to cool off in the shower. You don't mind though, do you? We can pick up drinks together another time!"

Of course, Todd and Tamsin assured him. They wouldn't have wanted to put anyone out, oh no, they were too nice for that, but they did make them promise to meet up again. It was with a shudder of relief that Gehart lined up for the last hole, barely even seeing the course of the putt set out before him, vision blurred, the fat of his muzzle pressing in, restricting even his sense of comfort there. Khen snuck in close, pretending to give him a hug, although his intentions were far from chaste with such a thick lover to love.

"Now we can have some time to ourselves when we get back home, stud."

With a lusty wink, Khen stole a grope of Gehart's voluptuous backside, making the stag give a grunt-like squeal, though it was, at least, something to distract him from how much trouble his gut was causing in the present moment. It was enough to distract the stag as he practically threw away his swing, not caring one bit where the ball ended up. However, in a stroke of luck unlike anything that he'd ever seen before, it ricocheted off the walls and pinged, oh so very neatly, into the hole at the end, proving to be an easy shot to end the whole thing. Gehart blinked dumbly as Khen cheered and clapped him on the back.

"Hey - that's great! You really picked up in the second half - look, you won!"

The stag could not fathom just how he had won, staring at the golf ball spinning in the hole, around and around and around, refusing to stop as it spun and spun and spun. He must have dropped the ball into more holes more quickly than he'd realised when his attention wavered; was that the secret to mini golf, after all? Maybe not so much about angles and the like then, Tamsin would be annoyed...

But the ball kept spinning and spinning, his stomach gurgling, and the stag could not have honestly have said that he felt like he'd won anything at all. He hadn't even really been playing or at all engaged in it, his life twisting and turning and writhing around him as if he didn't really have any part in it anymore.

His stomach gurgled.

In fact...he felt like he'd lost something bigger than even himself.