FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

A gentle wind blew calmly through the forest, shifting the vegetation in a way seen both naturalistic and intentional. Birds chirped with a myriad of tunes to set the forest alive, and the sun beating down upon the earth dissuaded most from venturing out into its rays of heating light. That was true, save for one active individual pushing their way through the vegetation in a rather persuasive manner.

The figure in question was a rather unexposed shiny Greninja, covered from head to toe in what appeared to be an outfit of ninja aesthetic, fitting for the Greninja's nature. Sporting a black gi and matching pants, the only things that seemed to not be covered in dark colors was the scarf he wore, as well as the outline of the gi, both of which were a stark white. This color difference was also present in his eyes, his pupils and irises meshing together into a deep crimson red that seemed to act as lasers, as they darted around the forest as he walked. Finally, there were spots on both his elbows and knees that sported the same white as his scarf, however all four locations were covered up either by clothing or padding for weaponry. In fact, the Greninja was completely decked out in the weapons department; from a sword and staff across his back, to a Kusarigama on one part of his waist and a Kaginawa on the other, to even a tube of Makibishi, he seemed to be filled to the brim with weapons.

That may have also be the case with his outfit, as it was practically filled to the brim with, well, him. For a Greninja, he wasn't necessarily the most fit. He was far from overweight, but the amphibian didn't seem to shy away from a more portly physique. He was often out on missions for weeks on end, seeking out his prize with nothing else in mind, and when on the hunt one can tend to develop quite the appetite when your prey is but in your sites.

The Greninja suddenly stopped as he felt his stomach rumble. Perhaps the pre-capture hungers were beginning to get to him. "Come on Fennel, you can do better than this." The Greninja silently scolded himself before pushing onwards to his goal. The one thing he was after was not that far, he had to keep going. If he stopped to eat now, he wasn't sure when he'd be back on track. After all, he didn't get that size out of self-control, ironic for being a Greninja.

"The Idol of Bloatana." Fennel spoke to himself, thinking about the item he was after. "Legend has it that it was created by an ancient race of people who, in a last-ditch effort to ward off a powerful famine, called upon the powers of a god to grant them the ability to never go hungry again. But for some reason the civilization collapsed not long after, and the only people left, before it completely fell, hid away the idol deep in a forest cave to never be found." Fennel, reaching a little cliff, took a moment to scan his surroundings before jumping to lower ground. "I wonder what happened though. Was it cursed? Or were they trying to hide away some sort of treasure? I'll just have to find that out for myself."

Suddenly, the Greninja stopped dead in his tracks, and surveyed the area. He was in the thick of the forest, surrounded on all edges by trees. However, something seemed different about this one location. He made a few hesitant steps to the side before pulling out his Kaginawa. He focused his sights on a nearby barren branch, and with a quick windup, he sent the claw end soaring through the air. The precise toss wrapped over the selected branch multiple times, and when it finally locked into place, Fennel pulled back quickly into his direction, snapping the branch with it.

Suddenly, the ground in front of him shifted, and a panel of the earth disappeared from site. "Bingo." Fennel grinned wide at his success and approached the empty segment. He came face to face with what appeared to be a stone tablet, though upon closer inspection it was actually a multi-layered dial; each layer was marked with a variety of symbols that seemed to hold some meaning, that of which was sadly lost on the Greninja. However, he didn't seem to focus much on what they meant, and rather reached into his gi to then pull out a slip of paper. A recreation of the dial was sketched out, however the symbols were aligned differently, and near the top were a set of numbers and arrows, indicating the direction each layer should be turned. He followed the instructions carefully, taking note of how each one seemed to click into place when arranged correctly. As he placed the final dial in the correct position, he stood back to observe, curious of what might happen next.

Suddenly, the largest tree, located directly in front of him, began to violently shake. Fennel widened his stance as he simultaneously rose his arms in defensive preparations. However, rather than become offensive, the tree seemed to slide open around the middle, revealing a hollowed-out center. "So, this must be the entrance to the dungeon." Fennel remarked, lowering his guard. "Means I'm one step closer to obtaining the idol."

Fennel ambled his way up to the false tree, holding himself against the edge as he cautiously peered inside. It was dark, but he could just make out the bottom, not but a few meters down. He supposed he could probably jump down without issue, though unsure of what may lay at the bottom he wasn't willing to risk breaking a leg. Instead, he found another, sturdier branch for his Kaginawa to attach to, creating a makeshift grappling hook. After securing the hook around the branch, he tossed the other end down into the hole, watching how it just barely scraped the floor.

With one footstep after another, the Greninja lowered himself into the tree. It was a little hard to get moving at first, considering the awkwardly slim size he had to move through, but he eventually got into a decent rhythm. It was strange though, seeing how the entrance was so easy to find. Fennel wondered if perhaps the original creators of this dungeon had other intentions behind people not finding this place. Though all that wondering would have to wait, as he could only think about so much as he practically wiggled his way down the hole.

When he finally reached the bottom, it was a lot roomier; he found his footing on solid stone, noting how there appeared to be no entrance trap. This puzzled Fennel more, though what happened to be the most bizarre thing he noticed was the way the tomb was structured. From where he stood, the dungeon slowly sloped outwards like a cone shape, the peak of that cone being where he stood. Along the sides of the dungeon stood statues of what appeared to be either warriors of old or heirs of royalty. Each one seemed to get progressively larger with the cone structure of the dungeon.

Fennel padded his way down the only corridor, observing the shifting architecture. He was baffled by the design, as well as the statues. They were not only growing in height as one would expect, but also in girth. Where the first ones were slim and very fit, the ones near the center appeared much more obese, and he could tell that where the corridor ended, the last pair of statues were unbelievable weights, with thighs as thick as the tree Fennel had just come down and bellies that hung down and almost touched the floor.

In his observant nature, he wasn't prepared as he suddenly felt the floor in front of him shift downwards. It wasn't major, but he could feel a noticeable difference. Fennel looked down to observe what he walked over and saw that he was standing on a large pressure panel. Shocked, he jumped back, attempting to ready himself for whatever trap he set off. But for some reason, nothing happened. He was confused, stepping on the panel again in an attempt to test it, yet still nothing. He made a few more attempts, even going as far as to stomp down on the panel, but nothing. "Well, this thing's busted." Fennel laughed to himself. "Must be for fatties like those guys up there." His mind wandered to the thought of a morbidly obese thief tripping the trap and could only continue to chuckle as he thought over how they'd even get down here.

He was broke from his laughter as he approached the end of the corridor, facing a stone door. It had no handle, but instead a mimicked version of the dial from above ground, this time with the symbols swapped. Fennel referenced back to his paper, flipping to the other side to read another set of instructions. It didn't take him long to organize the dials accordingly, and when he was finished, he watched in awe as the door before him shook and began to slide open, revealing what lay on the other side. There, in a wide rotunda, sitting atop a rounded staircase, sat a golden statuette, the Idol of Bloatana.

"I've finally found you." Fennel grinned wide as he walked cautiously towards the idol. "Once I bring you back with me, I can finally learn the secrets behind your civilization. Who created you, and what for? There're so many things I want to know. I just have to know. What are you?"

Fennel walked step after step up to the idol, which rested on a miniature pillar. Fennel noticed how the steps of the staircase seemed to be adorned with symbols, all of which matched up with the two other dial puzzles he encountered. The sudden change in scenery made the Greninja feel small, much like the statuette he was moving towards. Though why that was, he couldn't explain; he shook the feeling from himself as he reached the last few steps, approaching the pillar with a wide smile.

His eyes dilated as he looked over the idol, its golden glow shimmering in his presence. He was about to reach out for it, when common sense pulled him back to reality. He couldn't just take it, he had to be cautious, obviously. "They wouldn't just leave it out in the open, it's got to be booby trapped," he thought to himself, reaching behind him to grab a bag of sand from his waist. He made a few quick measurements as he observed the idol, attempting to judge the weight of the statuette correctly. As he finished up, he moved in close to the idol, placing the bag of sand next to it. Ever so slowly, he positioned the bag right up against the statuette, prepared to shift weight at a moments' notice. He had to make this just right.

With a quick flick of the wrist, he pushed the bag onto the pillar and subsequently pushed the idol off, catching it in his empty hand as it dropped. In that same moment he jumped back, prepared for anything to happen. He waited. And waited. And waited some more. But nothing happened. He loosened up as he realized that no trap reaction had occurred. This put a confused smile on Fennel's face, happy with his safety guaranteed. "Well, that's a reli-" Suddenly, the entire dungeon let out a deafening bellow, as the ground around Fennel began to shake violently. "I spoke too soon!"

The patterns on the floor began to light up, one by one, each symbol and its associated copies lighting up together. As this happened, the Greninja could feel an energy resonating from the statuette, something that was causing it to shake on its own as well. As more and more lights came on, the shaking of the room became more and more violent. Fennel would have run, but his legs were so unstable in the way the room was moving. But just as quickly as it began, as soon as the last light came on, the shaking of everything came to a sudden stop. Fennel regained his footing and looked around the room, attempting to make out what had changed.

"So, you've come to take the idol?" A voice boomed out from nowhere, sending a shiver up Fennel's spine.

"W-what?" Fennel stammered. "What is this? Who are you?"

"I am Bloatana," the voice introduced itself, "god of plenty, and I am the one who's idol you are holding."

"You... you're real?" Fennel looked down at the idol in his hand, shock and fear stuck to his face.

"I ask you again mortal, you've come to take the idol?" Bloatana demanded an answer.

Fennel took a deep breath as he attempted to restabilize himself. "Yes, I've come for your idol, to take it for myself."

"What reason does a mortal being such as yourself have business with the idol of my godly nature?" Bloatana questioned. "I have been asleep for many centuries. I do not understand why now you call upon me."

"I seek to learn more about the culture the creators of this idol came from." Fennel explained. "I want to know more about you, and what powers you held."

"You wish to know my powers?" Bloatana seemed to find this humorous. "No mortal, the likes of past or present, have been able to contain within them all of which I may possess. How are you so sure you are worthy?"

"What is too much about it?" Fennel inquired. "I just wish to understand the past. I don't think a single excursion into this would be detrimental."

"You make a convincing case, mortal." Bloatana praised. "Since you have come all this way, and woken me up just to talk about me, I shall humor you, and give you access to what that idol possesses. Are you so sure you wish to indulge in a god's knowledge?"

Fennel hesitated, wondering if it would be the best thing to go for. But, with his head held high, he nodded. "Hit me with all you've got." Fennel instructed.

"Very well." Bloatana laughed. "But I warned you."

It was with that moment that Fennel felt the idol once more become active, drawing his befuddled attention towards it. The vibrations, however, were different this time. Instead of a buzzing sensation, the idol seemed rather to pulsate. The strange new movements felt alien in Fennel's grasp, as if some new life was taking hold of the statuettes' form. He thought in that moment about dropping the item, but that was when he started to notice change.

Where before it was just the statuette moving, Fennel could now feel his arm begin the rhythmic pulsations as well. It grew outwards, moving from his shoulder to his neck, down to his chest and up to his head, and even making its way down to his legs. When it finally reached his feet, the pulsations seemed to act in their most concentrated forms yet, nearly knocking Fennel off his feet as he struggled to maintain balance against the idol's shaking. And then, just like that, it stopped all together.

Fennel looked down to his body, analyzing it for any sort of change. He didn't seem to feel any real difference, even after the pulsations messed with him. "Uh, what was that supposed to b-" Fennel's words cut short as he suddenly felt his body push forwards. With a look of disturbance, he gazed down at his chest and noticed how his gi was beginning to strain on himself. It moved again, this time silent, pushing out once more to fill up even more of the disappearing room within his outfit.

"W-what?!" Fennel shouted. "What's happening?!"

The voice of Bloatana formed a hearty laugh that rumbled in the rotunda. "This is the power I possess. An it's ALL yours for the taking."

Fennel let out a groan as he felt himself growing out once more. "You're fattening me?!"

"Oho, no, it's not me dear mortal," Bloatana denied, "for you see, my power is meant to do this to all who attempt to wield it. In order to know the knowledge of Bloatana, your body must simply... adapt."

Fennel could hear the sound of fabric tearing, his clothes becoming far too tight for his own good at the rate he was growing. "I didn't ask for this!"

"I warned you, did I not?" Bloatana let out another laugh.

"I've got to get out of here!" Fennel shouted to himself, tossing the idol away as he attempted to run. Emphasis on attempted. In his bulking state, his clothing had become rather restrictive. What also held a multitude of weapons and items only added to the weight. The Greninja practically waddled back down the steps, trying desperately not to fall. But another, unexpected surge sent him toppling over, tripping over his growing form and falling face first onto the stone floor.

He flipped himself over and attempted to rise to his feet, but not before his outfit finally gave way. With a final cry of protest, the Greninja's clothing busted at the seams, breaking apart in an explosive manner. As the tattered bits of clothing flew off, Fennel was given a full view of his now inflated body. What once was just a slightly tubby body now was morphed into a variant two hundred pounds heavier. His arms had thickened up to nearly the size of his neck, and his thighs had doubled in that regard. His belly was the most prominent feature, sticking out nearly a quarter of a foot and sagging around his sides. Where once was a set of disappearing pectoral muscles now sported moobs the size of the Greninja's elbow or knee pads. Fennel was speechless to this change but realized with fear that it was not over, as he felt his body move once more.

Fennel scrambled to his feet, nearly stumbling once more as his legs failed to account for the additional weight in adipose now packaged in his body. His legs were now much free to move, but with how he was still growing Fennel was unsure of how much longer that would last. He raced out of the rotunda, his belly nearly scraping the entrance as he made his way back to the cone-shaped corridor. His eyes came face-to-face with the statues he passed by on his journey inwards, and he took another note of their weight. It seemed to click with him in that moment how this place was much more dangerous than he had originally thought it could be.

He wasn't prepared as he suddenly came in contact with a wall of stone, nearly smacking his face directly into it. He took a step back and confirmed he hadn't changed directions, but rather the wall came into existence just then. His eyes shot down to the floor, and once more fell on another item he didn't understand before: the pressure plates; originally, he assumed they were broken, but now he could only curse the fact that they were made for people of his developing weight. "These traps aren't meant to keep people out," Fennel spoke, "they're here to keep people in!"

"Oh, so you figured it out?" Bloatana mocked. "Such a smart fatty you are."

"Oh, shut up!" Fennel shouted back.

To his luck, Fennel took notice of the side of the wall, and saw how the only segment up was where he stood. He shot to the side, as quickly as his bloating body would allow, and ran around the trap. However, to his dismay, the traps were far from over. They continued to pursue him with every step, getting at the blobbing Greninja in the most unexpected ways. Each step led him to another wall that he had to traverse around. His body was beginning to sweat from all the excessive movement, his breathing nearly labored as to match his lardball state. He just had to keep going, he couldn't stop; that was until, against his will, he was stopped.

Due to some unfortunate timing, by luck of his weight, two traps were simultaneously activated. The Greninja watched as two walls pressed against the front of his bulging frame, leaving a small space in the middle for him to peer down. He was nearly there, the exit was just in sight; how he'd be able to escape was beyond him, but it didn't matter, he just had to get past the two walls. But no matter how he tried to move, his body was giving out on him. His legs had turned from buns into full-on loaves as his thighs rose like yeast with every second that past. His arms had thickened up like a roast, mimicking the flabby folds that now adorned his neck where a scarf had once sat. His belly was threatening to touch the ground, nearly scraping with every wobbly move he made. His love handles and moobs were in a competition to see which one could grow faster, though while overshadowed by the Greninja's other features they still were quite obvious.

Fennel struggled against the walls, attempting to push at them with all his might, but to no avail. No movement, no motion, nothing could cause them to budge. He paused, panting, as he looked around him for a solution. The only things he could see were the statues, all staring down the corridor. In fact, they seemed to be staring at him, as if they were alive. He could feel their eyes piercing his soul, wishing upon him for the fate he had brought upon himself to be sealed. No, he couldn't handle that, he had to escape. He had to keep pushing. He had to try and escape, before he became too big to move.

All of the sudden, the stone walls seemed to lose all strength they had and fall right there. Fennel was shocked, both by the walls changing and his loss in balance. He tumbled forwards onto his stomach, an audible "Oof!" pushing its way out of his mouth. He was a little dazed from falling for the second time but was able to shake his head enough to regain consciousness. He wasn't wrong, the walls had given away; in fact, they had collapsed due to pressure, most likely from the fattening Greninja leaning on them. But Fennel didn't think about that, instead focusing on the exit. It was now right before him, nothing in his way. He could just climb out and pretend this never happened. It was all over.

That was, until he realized he couldn't move. Surprised, he looked down to see the problem, only to go wide-eyed with horror. His belly had grown so big that it was now impossible for his limbs to reach the ground. He struggled to reach, desperately attempting to regain footing, but nothing was changing. His feet just barely made traction with the floor, and even when he had a solid grip, he couldn't muster up the strength to push himself back; each motion afterwards was even less successful. He even tried to roll himself over, but that wasn't going to happen either. He realized, with a growing sadness, that no matter what he tried, he was beached by his inflated frame. Now, he was at the mercy of his growing belly, and just how big he would get was lost in the Greninja's mind.

He continued to grow for some time, getting larger at an even more increased rate upon losing mobility. His belly was taking up most of the weight gain, turning him from a fat Greninja into an over-inflated stress ball resembling Greninja-like features. His limbs had all sunken into his blob of a body at this point, his chubby face inches deep into the rolls of amphibian cellulite that made up his form. It was a surprise he wasn't popping from the stretching, his body seeming to contain the weight rather easily, that was at least if you accounted how it grew him both in height and width. He was beginning to reach his limit, or rather the limit of the room. He could see the ceiling coming into view slowly, as well as what he felt as his body squishing up against the side walls. All of the sudden, with noticing that limit closing in, the inflation seemed to come to a slow stop. Fennel let out a sigh of relief, finding it difficult to do so properly with his neck attempting to close his mouth for good.

"Well, you seem quite more capable now." Bloatana's voice could be heard once more.

"Mmph!" Fennel's body jiggled violently as he attempted to readjust his head to speak. "Iff ih ohher?"

"Hmm, you seem quite plump now, enough to understand the knowledge I hold." Bloatana laughed again. "But who said I'd give it to you?"

"Hwhah?!" Fennel protested.

"You mortals are so demanding sometimes, always thinking you can just get what you want." Bloatana continued. "I think it's quite shameful. So I think, if you're going to wake me up for something trivial and selfish, I should have some fun with you."

"Fuh?" Fennel questioned. "Hwhah foo hoo meah?"

"Why don't we try this again?"

Before Fennel could say anything else, a bright light surged through the area like a flood of white. Fennel felt it first flow over him, and then penetrate his skin. Slowly, the light seemed to change him, giving him back form to his formless body. And before he knew it, he was back to normal. However, now he was back in the rotunda. Confusion was obvious, but it didn't take long for him to realize something was not right, especially as he looked down to see the idol once again sitting in his hands.

He couldn't knock it away in time as it began to shudder again, commencing the fattening once more. Fennel, while shocked that it was happening all over again, was at least more aware this time, and immediately rushed down the stairs. He still, however, hit all the same snags. He busted through his clothes again, hit the walls, and came to a halt multiple time. In fact, the inflation was no longer in pulsations, but rather a steady stream pouring into the Greninja. He nearly made it to the exit, but with a sudden trip from overbearing weight, it was too much, and sent him gaining uncontrollably to immobility once more.

The sequence seemed to repeat itself several more times. Each time, Fennel found himself back in the rotunda with barely enough time to register any change before the shaking statuette would tell him to run. Every time, he met the same problems, be it growing or busting or stopping. Even with his attempts to change up what he did, nothing seemed to work out for him. It seemed, however, like Bloatana was enjoying this cycle very much, as every time Fennel failed, the god would let out a laugh of satisfaction. He only stopped as he noticed, upon the completion of one of the countless cycles, Fennel did not seem to move from his starting position.

"Mortal," Bloatana called out to the Greninja, "why have you stopped?"

Fennel just sat down, tossing the idol aside as it began to shake. "Well, I think I'm gonna need some time to think this one over."

"You're giving up?" Bloatana questioned with disgust.

"No, I'm just tired. I need to take a breather." Fennel spoke as he clothes began tightening for the 'nth time.

"You mortals are so strange. Tired already." Bloatana scowled.

"Hey, I don't see you running like a fat man down here!" Fennel paused as his outfit busted once more. "If I'm gonna be stuck here, I'm gonna need a second."

"You are truly a strange individual." Bloatana chuckled, watching Fennel topple forwards with a yelp as his weight pulled him down. "All the more fun to toy with."

And so, Fennel found himself in a repetitive cycle of inflation and weight gain that seemed to have no end, going on for hours more. Was it even hours, or had he been their longer? Or was it even shorter? He couldn't tell, his mind had lost all sense that was time, or anything about change that wasn't himself. He was at the mercy of both a god and his stomach, both which seemed to work hand in hand to mess with him in any way seen fit. And that was how it would be for some time. How long would Bloatana keep Fennel in this cycle of fit to fat and back to normal? Only time, whether it existed or not, would tell. For now, another cycle was starting up. How far could Fennel get this time?