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Pigging Out at the Farmhouse Diner

By MaantaaBeast

Gabe's wiry arms tensed against the steering wheel. He'd found the highway shut down for construction and had to take a lengthy detour through rural roads. There was no service to speak of, but eventually he'd fished out a physical map and thought he was one the right path. But after so much time wandering aimlessly, he drove through the middle of nowhere. He had to go slowly, the dead of night leaving him only a few feet of vision from his headlights. "Idiot." He leaned against the steering wheel, trying to ignore the painful hunger in his stomach. How long had he been driving?

He would have killed for something to eat; his refusal to keep snacks in the car had come back to bite him.

When he saw a light in the distance, for the first time in hours, he couldn't help but slow down to see what could possibly be out here. The place was a small, warmly lit building with a neon sign above the main door: Farmhouse Diner. Decals of overfed farm animals lit up beside the words, cows and chickens and pigs. What was this place doing on an empty stretch of road? Despite the hour, its open sign caught Gabe's eye, and he almost unconsciously turned into the gravel parking lot.

Gabe stepped out of his car. He was a human man, stiff in the way he moved and scrawny aside from the beginning of a stomach that he'd been planning to work off as soon as he could make the time for it. He trudged into the diner, barely awake enough to keep his head up.

The Farmhouse Diner smelled like its namesake, with old wood furniture and dry hay scattered on the floor. The place had the aesthetics of a barn, even though there weren't any actual farms around for hours. But as the door closed behind him, a new smell cut through all the others: food. Sizzling oil, roasting meat, potatoes, fries, the sorts of food he didn't let himself indulge in. But this was the only place to eat around here, so what choice did he have?

There was a host stand, with a chubby anthro fox sitting behind it, fast asleep. His hand rested on his belly, lifting up and down with each breath. He did look kind of cute with the fur of his scruff folding up around his neck, but Gabe sneered at him.He never fell asleep on the job, no matter how much he wanted to, so what kind of lazy ass was this fox?

Gabe strode past him, right up to the kitchen counter; there was no actual wall separating it from the rest of the building, letting swaths of heat and mouthwatering smells pour out. Some pop song played over a pair of speakers. Gabe, despite his frustration with that lazy fox, hesitated once he saw the chef.

The biggest crocodile he'd ever seen stood at a deep fryer in the back. The strings of his tarp-sized apron pressed into the side of his massive stomach. A tail easily twice as heavy as Gabe's whole body shifted slowly over the crocodile's fat ass. His whole back was wide with ridges of blubber and thick scales, leading up to a meaty, grease-stained neck. The crocodile hummed to himself in a rumbling voice so deep it resonated in Gabe's chest. He carefully pulled a basket of onion rings from the oil, a deeply pleased grunt rattling through his throat.

"E-" Gabe had to clear his throat and wipe the beading sweat from his brow before he could find his voice again, "excuse me."

The crocodile took his time setting the onion rings to the side, turning off his music, and finally lumbered up to the counter. His heavy body shook with each ponderous step. Gabe was subject to a view of the crocodile's belly, the plentiful chest above it, and his utterly massive tree-trunk arms, all covered by just the old, stretched-out apron. He reached up and scratched at the crest of fat under his jaw, smiling as his scales picked up a shine in the dim light. "Well hey there." He spoke slowly, taking deep, leisurely breaths. "Wouldn't you rather take a load off in one of the booths there, stranger? Looking tired."

"I would be if your host wasn't asleep at his station." Gabe crossed his arms, though he wasn't even sure what he wanted out of this; he was just rubbed raw by the long road trip.

The crocodile's laugh showed off his jaws full of long, shiny teeth. He turned off the fryer and stooped his head to step out of the kitchen, looming over Gabe. He nearly knocked him over with a sweep of his hefty tail, and put one plump hand on Gabe's shoulder. "Don't you worry about Marion, the boy's had a long day." He leaned down to speak closer to Gabe's ear. "I don't think we have to worry about reservations much anyway." His breath carried the same smell as the kitchen, fat and salt and meat. Ordinarily Gabe would recoil from that, but the crocodile radiated an enveloping warmth, and he found himself drawn to the man.

Gabe looked around, and sure enough he was the only patron in this place. A little current of fear ran through his brain at being alone in this building with just the big crocodile. "Are you sure you don't want to wake him up?"

Otis ushered Gabe over to a small booth, and looked him up and down with an overbearing, appraising look. "Well," He patted Gabe's stomach and set him down in the booth, "maybe I could use his help." The crocodile leaned across the table, completely overshadowing gabe. "Name's Otis. Who might we be fattening up tonight?"

"Gabe." He tried to keep things curt. As nice as this crocodile was being, he was also acting far too familiar. It was unprofessional.

"Well then, Gabe," Otis pulled a folded menu out of his back pocket, pinning it on the table with one fat finger, "let me guess, you like chicken?"

Gabe glanced down at the menu. This place might have been strange, but that didn't change the deep hole in his stomach. The word 'pork' made him salivate. "Actually, I prefer ham."

Otis' belly shook with another deep laugh. He patted Gabe on the shoulder, and squeezed his skinny arm tight. "Well maybe we can do something about these chicken bones of yours then. Big pig platter it is."

Gabe hadn't realized just how much muscle the crocodile was hiding under all that fat until he tried to pull his arm free. Otis could hold the human down with one hand, easily. "And a cup of coffee." Gabe just had to let the crocodile leave of his own accord.

Otis stood up straight, stretched, and stomped across the diner to the front. Gabe couldn't help but watch the crocodile, refusing to admit that he missed the smell of him. Otis stood right in front of the host stand, reached forward, and grabbed Marion under his arms. Gabe's eyes went wide as Otis hefted the tubby fox into the air like he was full of feathers. "Now I know the value in a good nap, Foxy boy, but we've got a customer."

The fox roused to find Otis' snout pressed right up against his nose. "Ah, sorry Otis." Marion didn't seem worried, in fact he almost looked like he was enjoying the treatment.

"He's wasting away over there," Otis grinned at Marion, setting him down on his feet and smoothing out the fur on his head, "I need to get him fed. Why don't you start some coffee for him, with that special roast you're so proud of."

Marion's fuzzy ears perked up at that, the fox must have liked making coffee or something. "Oh! I'll make it perfect for him." Marion glanced over at Gabe. Unlike the crocodile, he talked and moved with a fancy air, and a little bit of nervousness, tapping his fingers against one another as he hurried into the far end of the kitchen, out of sight.

"Now you just get comfortable," Otis returned with his big smile and delicious smell, "we're gonna fix you right up."

Gabe waited for a few minutes, but the torture of hearing and smelling his food on the griddle turned them into hours. Otis had turned the pop music back on, and he and Marion were both muttering something softly in the kitchen, probably singing along.

Finally, Otis called out. "Marion, take the coffee over, food's nearly ready."

The fox took his frustratingly delicate little steps over to Gabe, and set a large mug in front of him. "Enjoy." Marion toyed with his own tail now that his black-furred paws were free. He stepped back, but seemed to be waiting for something.

Gabe took a sip of the pale coffee, and its thick sweetness filled his mouth. How much cream did this fox put in here? He thought to ask for a new cup, but he just had to take another sip. And a third. He could practically feel the thick drink radiating into his body, but hey, it still had some caffeine, right? That fox was still watching him, a tentative smile on his snout. "So, had a long night, huh?" Gabe asked abrasively, trying to get him to go away.

"I guess I wasn't the only one." Marion looked down at the strands of fur on his tail. "I'm sure you feel like taking a nap for a little bit."

"I have work in the morning." Gabe shot the fox a look.

Otis stepped in between them, gently pushing Marion to the side with his big hips and setting an actual platter piled with pork, potatoes, and all sorts of fried stuff in front of Gabe. "Why don't you go get yourself a little snack, Marion? I'm sure Gabe here is just famished."

Marion lingered for a second beneath Otis, but nodded up with a nervous smile and scampered off.

Gabe's stomach strained and growled as if agreeing with Otis.

The crocodile huffed welcomingly at Gabe. "Eat up."

Gabe didn't have any objection to that. He didn't have any utensils, but he could use his hands for bacon, at least. He'd just ask for some when he got to the mashed potatoes. He stuffed the fat, salty meat into his mouth, first one strip, then three, then five at once. With all this food in front of him, his hunger overtook him in a way he hadn't felt before. He filled his other hand with sweet onion rings, munching and slurping up a big pile of french fries in between.

He dug ravenously into big wedges of ham, even the ones that were more lard than meat. Gabe only broke from eating to take another few gulps of the rich drink in his cup, wishing for it to never run out on him. The potato pancakes only lasted a minute, and by the time he actually got to the mashed potatoes with their little lakes of melted butter, he didn't even think to ask for a fork. Gabe stuffed himself with the thoughts of his waistline and manners deep fading into the back of his mind. He even picked up the platter to lick off the last bits of fried food and lap up the streaks of butter and fat.

The creamy coffee gave him a few more seconds of rapture before he slowly descended back into the small barn of a diner. He wiped quickly at his face, trying in vain to clean off the evidence of his feast. But he looked up to find Otis watching him anyway, looking excited and approving as he fried up yet more food. Gabe's face flushed hot when he noticed Marion also watching him, trying to hide in the back of the kitchen.

Gabe struggled to his feet, weighed down by the heavy meal and a sudden tingling warmth in his skin. He mumbled something about the bathroom, and followed the direction of Otis' nod. Why was he feeling so hot?

Gabe shut the flimsy bathroom door behind him, ignoring the couple of stalls for the sinks and mirrors. His irritated skin was looking discolored somehow, almost pink in the dim light. He reached for his face, finding it puffy and soft, especially around his cheeks and chin.

Otis and Marion were talking about something outside, but Gabe couldn't take his attention off what was happening to him. Was this some kind of allergic reaction? He didn't feel bad, just weighed down, and the heat radiating through his skin had spread into most of the rest of his body. His shirt felt tight, and he found the same puffiness in the skin beneath it.

His stomach, even full of food, growled again. He leaned against the counter, a wave of lethargy coming over him for a second while hungry saliva filled his mouth until a long strand of drool fell into the sink. He had to get out of here; this place was making him act like a complete slob!

Gabe stumbled out of the bathroom, only to be struck again with the smell of fry oil and pork. Otis had set another platter, piled even higher this time, on the table. Before Gabe could refuse it, the crocodile trundled over and wrapped an arm around him, nearly smothering his head with the sheer size of it. "Now don't you worry, this one's on the house." Otis not-so-gently set Gabe on the booth seat. "Mama taught me, if someone finishes their plate it means they need another." He patted his own massive belly. "Can't have someone go hungry."

By now, the tingling was gone, leaving just the heat and the hunger. Gabe should have left right then, but he sunk so comfortably into the seat of the booth and his stomach yearned, squealed for the food. "Just one more." Gabe huffed, eyes already glazing over as his hands dug into the pile of meat, fat, and potatoes. The food went in even easier this time, as if gorging himself came as naturally as breathing. Before Gabe knew it, he'd finished another platter of the heavy diner fare. His stomach was stretched tight, and he could feel it roiling inside him. But still he leaned forward and licked up the last of the melted lard.

Gabe sat back in the booth and looked for a napkin to wipe the grease off his face. There was nothing on the table, and he must have looked like such a mess. He was sweating from the heat running through his body, and from the continuous sizzling in the kitchen. Maybe there would be some paper towels in the bathroom? His body tried to keep him seated in the warm, comfortable booth, waiting for his next feast, but he had enough self-control to stand, and stagger across the diner.

How had his face gotten even bigger? This was more than just puffiness; his cheeks were bloated, rounding out his normally angular look. He breathed heavily and stared at the undeniably pink tone of his skin. His stomach churned, and Gabe fell over the sink at the sudden sensation of weight on his middle. He reached down to find a button on his shirt had popped off.

He realized how tight it felt, with the seams digging into his shoulders and sides. Gabe hastily unbuttoned the expensive shirt, tossing it onto the dingy floor. He stared at his torso. "What the fuck?!" He refused to believe what he was seeing. His small stomach had expanded into a full paunch, rounding out above his waist. His chest had filled out, and even as he grabbed at it, he knew this wasn't muscle. He squeezed the fat in morbid curiosity and a short, unintentional squeal escaped his lips.

He heard Otis' laugh again, not far from the bathroom door.

Another wave of heat radiated out from his stomach, and as Gabe bent down to pick up his shirt, the jarring rip of fabric tore through his pants. He tried to push his stomach out of the way and cover his backside, with just a pair of white briefs left. He struggled to rationalize the body he saw in the mirror, the flab on his arms that squeezed against his chest, the first roll of fat cresting off the side of his belly, his chubby face with its soft pink skin.

He wasn't fat, not like this! Gabe still tried to deny what he could see and feel, forcing his growing arms into the sleeves of his shirt, regardless of how much it hurt to pack them in like overfilled sausages. He grabbed the corners of the shirt, desperately pulling them together even as his love handles fought against him. His face flushed with an embarrassing excitement at the feel of his own fat, but Gabe managed to drag one button to its hole, just above his well-fed stomach. His fat fingers struggled to actually push the button through, and he had to hold his breath to keep it in place. But he swayed on his feet as a sweet, heavy warmth filled his chest and his fatted moobs snapped the button.

Gabe shook his head, trying to wake himself up from this dream. All he succeeded in was jiggling the crest of fat around his neck and pressing on the generous double chin he sported.

He panted, every part of his body filling up with warm, heavy fat. One more tear did away with his pants entirely. His fat thighs shuddered, almost free from the clothes that were, by now, many sizes too small. His white briefs still held on, but only by squeezing on his hips. Gabe tried not to think about how much he weighed, but he could feel it, at least in the three hundreds, and the pounds weren't slowing down.

His sausage fingers groped at the broad fleshy globes of his ass, already starting to escape from the overburdened underwear. His dick stiffened at the touch, but something else caught his attention. Gabe winced at the sudden prick of pain above his butt, and patted around to feel something protruding from the base of his spine. Gabe tried to twist and look in the mirror, but it was no small task with how much fat he had to shift out of the way.

There, curled above the shaking elastic of his briefs, sat a tail.

"I'm- I'm a pig?" Gabe stared at his face, and a flat snout that had replaced his nose, pressing its way forward. It didn't get far, with his fat cheeks on either side, but his ears had turned on him as well. They sat on top of his head, drooping slightly.

His hair was gone, leaving just a bristly shadow on his chin and cheeks, and a thin fuzz across his skin. His skull shifted subtly before his eyes, completing his head's porcine transformation.

Gabe's panting breaths took on a snorting sound until he couldn't stop himself from oinking and grunting at himself in the mirror. He wiped frantically at the sheen of sweat on his hot body, trying to dry off the thick rolls of fat on his side and underneath his heavy chest. Every time he looked at a different part of his body, it was fatter than the last time. "Oh *OINK* God!" He tried to hold his huge, doughy belly, but all that weight started straining his arms. And it felt so much better to just let his body be, the floor having an almost magnetic attraction to his butt.

He barely fought the urge to sit down and let the fat pour into his body. Gabe tried to pull his underwear off, now painfully digging into his thighs and haunches. All he succeeded in doing was rubbing a hand against the bulge between his legs. His face flushed even hotter at how hard he was. He pressed at the sweaty rolls under his chin, and tried to somehow push his oinking snout back down into a normal nose. But no, he stared back into the fat-laden face of a pig. His whole body was warm and heavy with what had to be hundreds of pounds of lard.

The bathroom door swung open behind him, and Gabe fell backwards onto the soft cushion of his ass. He kicked fruitlessly on the ground as Otis' great steps resonated through the floor and into the fat of Gabe's back. His belly shook, as he struggled on the floor, sending ripples up through his chest and down into his thighs. He couldn't even get up off his back! There was just too much pork weighing him down.

Otis knelt down with a grunt, his breath coming heavy and eager as his reptilian eyes took in Gabe's new, corpulent body. "Well now, where did this piggy come from?" He laughed to himself, and loomed over Gabe.

"What did you do to me?" Gabe panted, shaking both from the exertion and the fear of looking at Otis' shiny teeth.

"Why are you asking it like that?" Otis flexed his fingers, looking Gabe up and down. "Isn't this better?" He chose the sides of Gabe's belly. The crocodile's scales felt smooth and slick where his fingers pressed between the rolls of fat.

"Better?" Gabe gasped at the feeling of Otis pressing into his flesh. Tingling pleasure raced up his skin where the crocodile touched him. "Why-why would this be better?"

"It's got to be tiring, fighting the urge to eat yourself fat and lie around like a pig." Otis grabbed Gabe's belly and shook it. "Well hell then, get up. Go on out to your car, drive home, and try to lose all your wonderful fat. Won't be easy, not now that you're a real pig." He smiled warmly and brought his face close to Gabe's. "Or, just relax."

Gabe struggled under the crocodile. His body wanted so much to just lie there, full and fat and tired. He was so warm, and so comfortable, ensconced in his own fat. The only part of him that actually wanted to get up was between his legs. "I can't get up." He admitted, though it seemed like a bad idea to say that to a crocodile. He couldn't bring himself to demand Otis help him onto his feet, that just sounded so exhausting. So pointless.

A thick rope of saliva dripped out of the side of Otis' mouth, mingling with the sweat on Gabe's fat neck. "You really are a big one, aren't you? More lard than anything else." Otis pulled back and dragged his hands down Gabe's body. He massaged Gabe's neck, squeezed his big chest until Gabe's sensitive nipples pressed between Otis' fingers. The crocodile traced his claws on the soft curve of Gabe's belly, and kept going until his snout was mostly hidden by that belly. By now he had to be around five hundred pounds.

A hot breath flared between Gabe's legs. The pig grunted, his dick twitching as it soaked his underwear with precum. He couldn't believe what was happening to him, or how much pleasure he found there, stuffed with fat and fondled by a massive crocodile.

"I_have_ to get my mouth on a blue-ribbon piggy like this." Otis hooked a claw under Gabe's straining briefs, tempting him past the tipping point. "You want to feel Otis' mouth, Bacon?"

"God yes." Gabe's hips nearly bucked, despite all the meat holding them down.

With a single motion, Otis sliced the underwear off Gabe's suffering legs. He grabbed those tender, newly freed thighs. Even with his huge fingerspan, he couldn't hope to cover them, but he had enough of a hold to press them apart. The crocodile's whole head disappeared beneath the mountain of Gabe's stomach.

He tried to roll a little to the side to see what Otis was doing, but he couldn't possibly manage it. So Gabe let his thick neck rest on the floor, and shut his eyes. The incredible heat of Otis' breath broke against Gabe's leg. Then the crocodile's slick, wet tongue spread itself over the inside of his thigh. Otis slavered as he moved up Gabe's leg, lifting the hog's belly to lavish all the soft skin underneath it. He tasted every inch of pig between those legs, save for the last few inches that trembled over the lard trying to swallow them.

Gabe wheezed in need, his brain swimming too deep in the pleasure of Otis' tongue and the tantalizing smell of his oily musk. The pig couldn't think of anything past the warm comfort of his body, and how desperate he was to have that crocodile finally suck him off. Every pound of fat shuddered when Otis enveloped Gabe's dick with his tongue.

Gabe tried to buck his hips again, jolts of ecstasy pouring into his legs with every bit of sopping foreskin that the crocodile teased down past the head. But then Otis started to slow down. Gabe squealed, begging him to keep going, but he couldn't do anything with his buttery meat holding him on the floor.

Otis lifted his head and swallowed the pre, and the oil from Gabe's skin. "I think I'm gonna stick with Bacon. It suits you." He stared into Gabe's eyes. "What do you think, is that your name?"

"Anything you want." Gabe panted, cheeks trembling. "Just don't stop."

"Piggy needs to be tasted, does he?" Otis teased. He leaned even further over Gabe until their massive bellies squeezed together, spreading out their soft fat. "It's not fair to keep all of you to myself though, is it?" He looked back at the door and bellowed out in his strong voice. "Marion, Bacon here's all ready."

Gabe's spine tingled in excitement. Was the fox going to join Otis down between Gabe's legs?

Marion scampered over to the two of them, his eyes shining. "It worked!" He exclaimed.

"It_really_ worked." Otis pressed his weight harder onto Gabe's belly. "God, you make such a good pig. Just look at you." He leaned his head down and licked one of Gabe's pillowy moobs.

Marion watched the hungry look in Otis' eyes with pride, but the more Otis stared into Gabe's pink skin, the more a little bit of envy grew in the fox's gaze. "I'm glad you like him." He said.

Otis' tail swished aggressively across the floor, swaying his ass a little with each swipe. "Come get these pants off me, foxy boy. I'm so hard they hurt."

The fox eagerly knelt down by the crocodile's butt, clearly relishing the chance to undress Otis. His hands shook with excitement as he undid the belt. Where did the crocodile possibly find one big enough to go around his waist? Gabe momentarily wondered where he was going to find any clothes that fit, before another hot breath from Otis filled his head. Marion pulled a pair of cavernous jeans down Otis' legs, the crocodile lifting each mountainous leg to let them fall free. The fox reached slowly for the elastic on Otis' dark blue boxer briefs, pulling them down just enough to show Otis' meaty cheeks and let his dick stick out.

Gabe couldn't see Otis' dick with both of their fat bodies in the way, but he could feel the thick crocodile's rod press against his belly, slathering it in musky wetness. Otis panted fast, matching Gabe's own torturous pleasure.

Otis shifted a little, lifting the edge of his stomach off gabe. "Well?" He turned his hungry stare on Marion. When the fox looked back uncertain, Otis let out a horny growl. "Why are you still dressed? I want to feel that fox fur."

A stupid smile jumped on Marion's snout. "Whenever you want!" He nearly tore his shirt off, frantically revealing his chest and belly, chubby and covered in thick cream fur. When he fumbled with the button on his pants for a second too long, Otis reached out with one hand and tore the fly open, dragging Marion's pants and underwear down to the floor. He eased off of Gabe.

"Hey!" The pig whined. He tried to reach for his own dick, so he could at least satisfy some of the heat between his legs, but found his belly had more than enough fat to keep his overstuffed arm from making it.

"Don't worry, Bacon." Otis scooped Marion up by the small of his back, shoving the fox down on top of Gabe.

Marion leaned his head back and gave Gabe a mocking little grin. "Enjoying yourself?"

Gabe oinked, too frustrated to put words together.

Otis fell down on top of them both, knocking the wind out of Gabe and squeezing Marion between them. The fox sank deep into Gabe's fat, while the pig tried to move an inch under the crocodile.

"Deep breath, foxy." Otis pressed his meaty chest into Marion's face. It was Gabe's turn to look with envy as the fox drowned in Otis' entrancing smell. The crocodile shifted his weight. "Both of you just let Otis take care of you." He reached between Gabe's thighs, eliciting horny grunts from him. Otis tugged Marion down, and lowered his hips until he could line up all three of their dicks in one scaly hand.

Marion moaned sweetly from beneath Otis' chest, and his chubby legs shook against Gabe's as the crocodile shifted his fingers so unbearably slowly up and down. Otis slipped a finger into the ridge of the fox's foreskin, making each movement gentle, lavishing him with waves of heat. He rubbed the head of Gabe's electrifying dick in wide circles, crossing back and again over the front and the back, each time coating it in a new layer of slick fluid. The crocodile rumbled and pressed his own heavy meat forward, past his palm and between Marion's ass and Gabe's stomach. His hips rolled forward with the strength of those great hidden muscles, using their soft bodies for his own hungry, bestial pleasure.

"You did such a good job, my little fox." Otis growled into Marion's ear as he humped harder. "We're gonna have a lot of fun with this prize hog."

Marion tried to say something, but with the pressure on him and the touch of the crocodile's finger under his tender, sensitive skin, he could only let his tongue loll out of his content smile, eyes shut.

Gabe's attention fell away from whatever Otis was talking about. A shock of heat coursed out from the head of his dick, rippling out to rack every inch of his jiggling fat. A breathless squeal escaped his snout and Otis pumped his hidden dick for all he was worth.

Marion's paws reached out and grabbed at Gabe's rolls as the fox's soft body tensed. His fingers dug hard, and he pressed his head tight against Otis' chest, burying his face almost completely in the crocodile.

Gabe could feel the drip of the fox's cum as it passed through Otis' fingers.

The crocodile picked up his own pace, slamming his hips into Gabe and Marion, the thick folds of his foreskin sliding back and forth over the head of his dick as it pumped between them. Otis screwed his eyes shut, held Marion down with his chest, and opened his jaws around Gabe's moobs. He sucked on the helpless fat, Gabe's skin tingling in circles around his tender nipples. Otis pulled the pig's chest into his mouth with his tongue and bit down hard as an earth-shaking bellow echoed out from his enormous body.

Otis painted them both with jets of hot crocodile seed, soaking them so deep with the smell of him that Gabe didn't think he'd ever wash it out. Then the scaly monster's shaking arms gave out and he collapsed on top of them.

A few minutes passed the sweaty pile of satisfied beasts. Otis played with Marion's ears while Gabe tried to catch his breath. Eventually, once sense started to return to their heads, Otis rocked himself to the side until he could roll off Gabe with the sound of hundreds of pounds of crocodile slamming onto the floor. He grabbed Marion, fur soaked through with the heavy scent of oil, crocodile, and pork, and petted his back until he started to rouse himself.

"I love smelling like you." The fox murmured.

"Means you're mine." Otis turned to Gabe and looked his body over again. "And you know, I think my pig here could stand to keep porking up. How about it, little fox, wanna cook something up for us?"

Marion watched Gabe's fat chest, rising and falling with every heavy breath. "Can't let Bacon go hungry." He got up on his shaky legs, ignoring his clothes on the floor. "I'll just wear my apron."

Gabe tried to get up again, but he was even more spent now. How big would he get if he let them keep feeding him?

Otis pushed himself onto his feet and put one foot on top of Gabe's belly. "Don't tell me you want to leave before you get your third helping."

His thoughts had started to clear, though, and he worried. "What's my family going to say?"

"Wow Bacon, you turned into one fatass pig!" Otis leaned down and dug both hands under Gabe's sweaty back. The crocodile showed off his strength again. He hefted Gabe like a great ball of dough, tossing him belly-first over his shoulder so he could pat the hog on the expansive backside while he walked back into the diner. "So what's it matter how fat your ass is?" He laughed. "Besides, doesn't Marion's cooking smell good?"

Gabe took a deep breath. Otis hadn't been wrong yet. "So good."

Otis sat between Marion and Gabe in the booth, the only one with even a pair of underwear on. With one hand he scratched the fox's chubby chest until he leaned against the strong crocodile's shoulder and nestled in for another nap. With the other he held bite after bite in front of the even-fatter pig. Bacon just kept eating, packing on more greasy rolls, more meat in his rump, more creamy fat into his moobs, more tantalizing pork onto his chins.

When the pig finished his last plate, he looked like he was going to say something, but instead he just huffed and sat, content in the heft of his own lard. He drifted off, snorting with every breath that passed his fat-caked snout.

"Just like I said," Otis patted the lardy mound of satisfied pork, "much better."