Clawroline: Star Snacker

Story by whatsonsecond on SoFurry

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#1 of Other

Clawroline powers herself up the same way that Kirby does: by eating a lot of baddies. Her powers seem to manifest differently, though. Has she been putting on weight?PDF Version

Thanks to Lobster for the kickass thumbnail! He came up with the idea, as well.


Carol--no, Clawroline--stood watch atop the circus tent. Its yellow and purple stripes tapered inward and upward to her delicate, furry hindpaws. They stood on the pinhead at the peak of the big top with perfect balance. Her ankles locked firm with toned calves and thick, muscular thighs. Pocks of brown fur decorated her brilliant yellow legs. A long, fuzzy leopard's tail slinked behind her firm rump. Her hips jut outward harshly, then cut back inward to a svelte waist. Her cream-colored breasts hung round and pert from her bust, paired with slender shoulders and arms. Her snout, narrow and short, sat under two large, intent eyes. Her carnation eyelids led to lengthy, curled lashes.

A pink ball scurried in the amusement park before her. The monster alien, Kirby, ran through a clearing between colorful tents. He encountered another alien, a small snowman named "Chilly."

The snowman conjured icicles in the air and shot them at Kirby.

Kirby deftly sidestepped them. He opened his unholy maw, and in a terrible gust of wind, he sucked up the snowman. After a compressing gulp, he suddenly bore a hat of ice.

Three awoofies approached Kirby next. They charged him head on.

Kirby opened his mouth again. This time, however, he blew. The very air before him froze.

Frost grew in the awoofies' fur, slowing them to a crawl. Eventually, they froze into blocks of ice.

Kirby carelessly kicked them aside before entering a nearby tent.

Her poor awoofies.

Clawroline's blood boiled, and her fur stood on end. She bent her knees and arched her back, prepared to commence the hunt for Kirby. Then, she saw a snowman at the base of her own tent.

The little creature meandered aimlessly. What if it granted her an ice-breathing power, as well?

She leapt from her summit and dived down through the air. She extended her forepaws towards the ground and straightened her body like a javelin. Her claws fanned out from her digits.

Her palms slammed the ground with a quaking shock.

The snowman, stunned, fell back.

Clawroline's hindpaws landed. She stood, and with one forepaw, she swiped up the snowman in her lengthy claws.

The thing felt cold to the touch. It wriggled in her grip, rubbing flakes of ice into her paw.

She opened her mouth wide and crammed the snowman in, whole. Snow chilled her teeth and bit the insides of her cheeks. Those cheeks strained taut around her wintry prey. Her eyes watered from the frigid pain. She pushed the snowman back with her tongue, and she pounded her gullet down. As she slid the slippery snack through her throat, her neck bulged from its overwhelming volume. Finally, she passed it into her belly.

Her belly, once slim and trim, now bloated outward with taut curves, as if she was full term with a bundle of cubs. She staggered on her chiseled legs, and the quickly-melting food in her stomach sloshed.

Her paw stroked her stretched hide. Her distended middle felt immediately tender and tight. She clenched both paws on her belly and opened her mouth, trying to unleash an icy attack; instead, she popped a lukewarm burp.

She needed a cat nap.

* * * * *

Clawroline visited Leongar in the dilapidated Lab Discovera. A squad of three gun-toting, shaggy-furred bernards stood with them.

Leongar's chamber laid at the heart of the lab. Sleek, metallic tile lined the floor and walls, cast with bright, fluorescent light from overhead.

Leongar the lion reclined in a high-backed throne beside a wall of screens. Even sitting, the lion dwarfed Clawroline. His hindpaws flattened to the floor under short, ripped legs. His torso, as long as his legs, fanned outward with terrifying pecs. His two arms rippled with muscle and rested on the arms of the chair. Just one forepaw, from wrist to claw, matched Clawroline's height. His massive head wore a thick, frenzied mane of scarlet.

Clawroline stood erect and watched the screens. Her hindpaws, small and dainty as ever, met each other at attention. A slim layer of flab softened the sharp muscles of her calves and thighs. Still thick with musculature, now they bulged just a bit further with gradual, plush curves. They led up to vast hips wider than her shoulders. On her backside, her proud glutes jut under newfound pounds of fat.

A gentle band of pudge coated her abs, as well. Her breasts hung over her upper abs and rounded further out. Her lean arms now flaunted fine sleeves of flab.

Even shorter than Clawroline were the bernards, who stood at one third of her height. Their ball-like bodies were the size of her head.

One screen showed Kirby in a green field. He sucked up a sheepdog in a pith helmet. In the next moment, a pith helmet materialized on his scalp, and a miniature blunderbuss appeared in his hand. He ran off to shoot a pack of awoofies.

The bernards turned away from the screen.

Leongar pointed to the screen and looked at Clawroline. His lips moved in strange, complicated ways, paired with otherworldly utterances.

Clawroline strained to find meaning in his voice, but she identified none. Still, she gathered something by the way Leongar gestured his forepaw.

Leongar was trying to point out that Kirby ate his foes and transformed.

A bernard tapped Clawroline's forepaw. He barked and woofed. He pointed to his own body, then pointed up into Clawroline's mouth.

Clawroline picked him up in two forepaws. She meowed cautiously.

The bernard nodded and arfed.

Clawroline eyed Leongar.

Leongar nodded, too.

Clawroline opened wide, parting her jaws as if to sigh a gigantic yawn. She put the bernard to her mouth.

The bernard caught fast against her lips. He was only a smidge wider than her maw. He reached inside her, grabbed hold of the end of her mandible, and tugged himself in. His spherical waist stretched her lips and cheeks. He pushed hard into her gullet and forced his head into her throat. His long, dry fur itched her and grew sticky in her saliva.

Clawroline choked. She grasped at her neck, which bulged out like a beach ball. Her forepaws pushed down on her neck to force the lumpy dog through her esophagus. Finally, she swallowed him down.

He pounded her gut like a bag of rocks.

Looking down, her gut inflated outward. Her bulk squelched and groaned with comforting satiety. Her stomach used to ache when she consumed live prey, but now, it easily expanded for her voluntary snack. Its weight pulled her forward; she put one foot forward and leaned backward to stabilize herself. She held both forepaws to her working gut and rubbed.

She licked her lips. No pith helmet appeared, and no gun, either. She shook her head and shrugged.

Leongar plucked another bernard between his giant index and thumb claws. He offered it to Clawroline.

Clawroline scritched her belly to prepare it. Then, she wrapped her jaws on the new bernard. She put both forepaws to the bernard's butt and pushed it in. Her pre-stretched mouth felt more elastic, and she pumped the bernard down her gullet like a pneumatic tube. Her gut doubled in size. It hung down her thighs, stretched wide as her hips, and billowed as far as her arms. Her stomach issued a momentary jolt of pain from the sudden bloat.

She tumbled forward from the sudden weight on her.

Leongar opened his paw and caught her.

Clawroline turned around and slumped her back on his palm. Her gut burbled and crooned. She reached for the front of her belly, but it blimped just beyond her reach. Her maw lolled open as she breathed laboriously. Her stomach sapped her energy as it took stock of her massive meal.

The last bernard jumped up and down. She looked giddy to join her comrades.

Leongar smiled benevolently and picked the bernard up. He placed her at Clawroline's gaping mouth and forced her in.

Clawroline relaxed back in Leongar's palm.

His long index claw pushed the bernard deep, shoving her past Clawroline's mouth and down her throat.

Clawroline felt her esophagus stretch with dog. Her eased muscles let the bernard pass clear into her belly. With no energy left in her, Clawroline laid limp and simply let Leongar stuff her.

The bernard swelled her gut even further.

Her stomach burst wider than her hips and down just past her knees. Her outstretched arms could only stroke half of its raw, red surface. Her legs burned, and they buckled under her gut's heft, and she collapsed down into Leongar's fingers.

Leongar chuckled softly. He tenderly held a fingertip to her middle and caressed it.

Clawroline's overstuffed belly felt warm and comforting. The gigantic gorge plunged her into a placid state where even the taut strain of her gut did not matter.

Not to mention, Leongar's touch soothed her.

Clawroline leaned her head aside, nuzzling Leongar's palm behind her. "Mrreeeowr."

* * * * *

Clawroline lounged on the ring in her tent. Afternoon sun filtered in through a slim opening in the tent, along with a refreshing spring breeze.

She laid on her side on the ring's canvas cover. She held one leg in the air and bent over herself to lick its thigh.

Clawroline's hindpaws thickened with a slim layer of pudge, just barely softening their fair fur. One leg slouched on the ground, and its chubby calf splayed on the mat. Its thigh sprawled, spreading its adipose wide. Her other leg stretched high into the air. Its calf hung round and heavy, while its thigh bulged over her other leg's thigh, fat leaning on fat. Clawroline groomed her raised thigh with her tongue. It wobbled from her deep licks.

To reach her thigh, Clawroline's waist doubled over. Her chunky gut rolled over her upper legs and squashed into deep creases. Her cushy neck mashed against her large breasts. She propped her back on an arm with slim, but growing, pudge.

The mat reverberated with pattering footsteps.

Clawroline put a forepaw to the mat and leapt onto all fours. Her rump jut far behind her and rolled over the backs of her thighs, while her breasts brushed the canvas under her.

Before her stood six waddle dees. The orange munchkins bore angry brows. They charged.

Clawroline launched herself into the air over the waddle dees. Gravity tugged her down, though, and her hindpaw claws accidentally nicked two dees' scalps. She landed with a clumsy thud, swaying her tits like pendulums, rocking her belly like gelatin, and quaking her ass like mercury. She looked over her shoulder and craned her neck to peer around her wide hips.

The dees turned to meet her.

She bounded away from them, jiggling her body all the way. She hopped to the far side of the ring and grabbed nearby scaffolding.

At its top, a giant spotlight shone down on the dees.

Clawroline reached up and snagged a higher rung on the scaffolding. She pulled herself up while her heft pulled her down. Her strong backside wiggled behind her rotund hips, her powered-up belly rest over her upper thighs, and her upgraded breasts weighed down her back. All that power took more strength to haul up the scaffolding.

The metal itself creaked under her grip, overwhelmed by her growing form.

Halfway up, she looked below. The dees fumbled helplessly at the scaffolding. Their short arms couldn't reach from one bar to the next.

She held onto the scaffolding with her hindpaws and let go with her forepaws. She fell backward, bulbous boobs flopping through the air. She pushed off with her hindpaws and departed the metal structure. Her chubby cheeks flapped while she stretched her forepaws down. In an instant, she slammed the mat on all fours, rocking it under her weight.

The dees fell on their backs with yelps and cries.

Clawroline swiped one dee in one forepaw and another dee in her other forepaw. Her sharp claws dug against their tender flesh. She shoved one into her mouth and stuffed her right cheek. She crammed the other dee into her maw next, ballooning her left cheek. Now, each of her furry cheeks billowed as wide as her face. She cocked her head back and swallowed. Her neck inflated bigger than her head, like a sssnacker, and she gulped her prey down just as easily. Her gut greedily caught her bumbling meal. It expanded far larger, swelling beyond her arms while coated with a soft layer of blubber.

She leaned down onto her forepaws in a pouncing stance. Her back crushed her filled gut against the mat. Her fur raised on end, her tail shot straight up, and her pupils narrowed ferociously. She blasted a terrifying belch, "mrreeeeOOWWUUUURRP!!"

The waddle dees froze in horror.

Clawroline lifted one forepaw and one hindpaw, wagging her jelly butt. She stepped forward, grinding her oversized gut along the mat, and slammed back down. She swiped another dee and threw it down her gullet. Her belly pounded wider, billowing laterally under her arms and over her legs. She crawled forward another sloshing step.

Three dees remained.

Clawroline recalled a technique she observed from the pink menace. She cranked her jaws wide open and sucked. She breathed in air with all her might.

The canvas mat fluttered before her.

The rushing air ripped the waddle dees' feet out from under them. They fell on their faces and clutched at the ground. Their tiny feet dangled in the air, unmoored by Clawroline's vacuum breath.

Clawroline sucked harder.

One dee lost its grip and flew back into Clawroline's waiting mouth. Soon after, another dee ripped back into her.

Clawroline kept pulling, though, and finally, she yanked the last dee into her. Her jaws ached. Her cheeks stung. Her head was almost too heavy to hold up. She opened her esophagus wide and grunted hard. She shoved her hindpaws down on her neck, punching the dees down. She thumped them down her throat, and her belly jumped twice as wide.

Her legs dangled over her underbelly. Her toes just barely brushed the ground. Her gut burbled and groaned, and she wheezed.

The dees in her stomach punched and kicked, wobbling her pudgy body.

Her tail flicked side to side. Feeding made her frisky.

She rolled over onto her back. The heavy inertia of her belly carried her further, and she had to clench her arms around her middle to halt it. Her gut crushed up on her lungs and down on her legs.

She put her forepaws to the mat and pushed down. She rolled her gut forward. It flooded over her legs. She stood, and her thigh muscles burned. She wavered uneasily while her tremendous stomach slapped down over her calves.

She pushed one leg forward, fighting the weight of her bulky belly. Her balance transferred awkwardly from one leg to the other while her thighs scraped together. Now she understood why they were called waddle dees.

* * * * *

Mr. Frosty and Clawroline met at the dead of night. They stood at opposite ends of Clawroline's ring. Overhead, awoofies manned the spotlights, one on either combatant.

Mr. Frosty, the white-furred walrus, wore tight black overalls. His bulbous cheeks bordered his azure muzzle, and a thick layer of lard girded his chin. Melon-sized moobs strained against his shoulder straps, and his keg gut strained them further. His stubby legs were nearly invisible, but his rotund rump billowed out behind him. He slapped his tubby gut, and it rumbled a voracious grumble.

Clawroline posed with an arched back, at the ready. Pudge graced her hindpaws, and slight cankles formed from the girth of her pillowy calves. Her thighs blimped to her sides. They flared broad in sweeping arcs of adipose, they weighed over onto her calves, and they slumped over the backs of her knees. Her corpulent ass rest on her thick thighs with two enormous orbs that nearly swallowed her upper legs.

Her tail slinked out from under two fine rolls of lovehandles. Those rolls led to her waist, which gathered in chubby folds over her vast hips. Her waist folds grew thicker and thicker until they sprawled as a spare tire over her upper legs. Her belly was modest, as Clawroline could still reach around its bulk to her navel--although just barely. Her breasts, on the other hand, were anything but modest. Huge globes hung from her chest and sloped off of her gut. Their pert circumferences spanned far out from her, overshadowing her belly. She held her forepaws up like jazzhands, claws outstretched, letting her flabby biceps waver.

She bore her fangs above chins of blubber. Her eyes widened and pupils narrowed over her bubbly cheeks. She hissed, vicious and breathy. She was hungry.

She leapt forward into a gallop on all fours. Her forepaws met the mat, and her breasts walloped it. She instantly lost her footing, and she fell face-first into her boobs, each larger than her head. She jiggled on her fattened gut, and her ass clapped from the violent force.

Mr. Frosty blew into the air before him, conjuring a crate-sized ice cube from frozen air particles. The frigid box fell onto the mat, and Mr. Frosty spun around, wiggling his obesity. He flopped his bubble butt backwards and launched the cube towards Clawroline.

Clawroline pushed up from the ground on her forepaws to get to her knees. She faced the oncoming projectile and bent her waist sideways, coiling its fat creases. She sprung her waist laterally and slapped her huge midsection against the cool cube. Her fur momentarily stung from the impact, but her flesh insulated her from the biting cold.

The cube crashed back into Mr. Frosty, and he teetered backwards on one foot.

Clawroline hopped onto her hindpaws. She ran on two legs this time. Each thunderous thigh pumped its huge bulk backwards, launching her ass cheeks up and down. Her butt slapped while her thighs chafed. Her swaying shoulders swung her enormous breasts, and their weight swept side to side over her upper belly.

She stopped on one hindpaw and pivoted her hip forward. Her ass careened forward and pummeled Mr. Frosty right in his gut. Her fat slapped his fat hard enough to knock him onto his back.

Mr. Frosty staggered backwards and fell on his dump trunk rump with a thud.

Clawroline lowered onto all fours. She parted her jaws and breathed in. Her suction pulled him towards her, and she tasted his feet first.

Mr. Frosty tossed and turned, but it was already too late.

Clawroline's lower lip hugged his flabby butt, while her upper lip wrapped over his hefty gut.

His soft, cushy flesh yielded to her sharp, hungry jaws. His waist traveled into her gullet. His voluminous blubber stretched her esophagus, filling it up and swelling it out.

Clawroline moaned.

Mr. Frosty's arms and head hung out of her mouth. He slapped her face.

She recoiled, then slurped the rest of him up, shotgunning the overweight miniboss into her gluttonous gut.

After that, her paws couldn't reach the mat. Her belly billowed under her, propping her far into the air. Even her breasts weren't big enough to flow beyond her stomach. She felt her bloated gut press down against the ring. The floor groaned under her.

Mr. Frosty writhed and struggled inside her.

She pushed in on her uneasy gut with all four paws. Her forepaws dug under her tits, while her hindpaws kicked her underbelly. The rude ruckus erupted gas from her maw, "GhRAAP--blurp--BORP!"

Her fighting belly, along with the increased density of her mass, creaked the ring under her. The floor buckled inward with an ear-shattering snap. It dumped her blimped distension. With a blunt thwump, her swollen belly hit the dirt under the stage.

After that, her tummy settled. She mewed in relief.

Both spotlights were now on Clawroline.

She rested there. She was at peace with a superstuffed stomach. Her blubbery legs and huge rump hugged her underbelly, while her back-straining breasts laid easy on her distended abs. Not only did the size of her meal sate her gluttonous gut, it also gave her body a big, cushy mattress. She rubbed her tummy, adoring its immense girth.

She licked her claws, and her tail flicked side to side. She considered trying out for the arena.

* * * * *

Clawroline peered through the opening metal doors into Leongar's throne room.

A large number of ceramic plates set out on the floor. All of them were empty, though, aside from some scant crumbs.

Around the plates sat six orange puffballs with peach-furred faces. The waddle dees all sat back, leaning on unusually meaty rumps. Their bellies rested on the floor before them, with fat rolling over their feet. Their chubby arm nubs rubbed their guts contentedly. The engorged crew uttered a harmony of stomach glorps, sharp hiccups, and lazed belches.

Clawroline licked her lips.

The dees clapped and looked to the throne, where Leongar sat.

He stood and bowed gracefully. That was when his eyes met Clawroline's.

Clawroline now stood in an entirely open doorway. Her hindpaws planted far apart. Their arches bubbled with pudge, and their toes puffed with chub. Her calves swelled heavily, leaning over her hindpaws and arcing like a dome around the back of her legs. Massive thighs rolled down into the gap between her calves and pushed her legs apart. They rolled just as far over the outside of her calves. Her thighs bunched into heavy creases at her tremendous hips, and they squashed under her corpulent ass. Each butt cheek sloshed with more lard than Mr. Frosty's obese gut. Her rump quivered just inches above the floor. Its brown leopard spots stretched as large as dinner plates over her inflated backside.

Clawroline's middle draped over the front of her bulging thighs and slapped down below her lard-swaddled knees. Her lower belly formed a soft slab of flesh up to her deep navel. From there, her upper belly bowed out. Her tits obscured it, though, in two colossal orbs sprawling as wide as her hips. Clawroline's silhouette formed an hourglass so severe that its top bulged into its bottom, instead casting a spherical shape.

Her biceps, each thicker than her ass just months prior, smooshed over her sideboobs. Her chin smothered under her jaws and supported her expansive cheeks. She grinned seductively with chubby lips and peered to Leongar over her round cheeks.

Clawroline pushed one leg forward. Her hindpaw rose a few, meager inches, her thighs grinded against each other, and her leg shifted her belly sideways. The gait tilted her waist to one side while her hips leaned the other in a ponderous saunter. Meanwhile, she cast one arm back, waving it laterally because her waist was too fat to swing her arm down. She swung her other arm forward, pressing her shoulder forward to accentuate her colossal bust. Her hindpaw landed with a thud that clattered the lab's aging equipment. The reverberation rippled her legs, wiggled her butt, wobbled her gut, juggled her tits, and shook her face.

The waddle dees turned to her with wide, jittering eyes. Slowly, each one rolled forward against their bellies. With agonizing effort, they got to their feet.

She waved to them with a friendly smile. She waddled around them, shook her head, and batted her chunky forepaw playfully.

The dees blinked in confusion.

Leongar bent down to pat one on the head. He offered a reassuring nod and placed a slice of cake before it.

The dee happily sat back down and dug in.

Leongar served four other slices of cake.

Clawroline's cake clapped as she trundled her hefty ass over to Leongar's throne. She dropped her butt right in it, and her hips overflowed the arms of the supersized chair. She blew a moan of relief as her weight leaned off of her hindpaws and onto her cushy rump. Her belly swallowed her lap, and her breasts teetered just past her gut. They arced up as high as her eyes. She plopped her arms on her rack.

One dee remained without a cake slice.

Leongar took one final slice and placed it on the crack between Clawroline's massive tits.

The final dee looked expectantly to him.

Leongar kindly picked up the dee. Even with the dee's weight gain, the butterball fit in his palm. Leongar dropped him off on the edge of Clawroline's belly.

The dee leaned forward into her breasts for stability. He grinned and blushed.

Clawroline's eyes darted from the cake to the dee and back, signaling him on.

The waddle dee nudged his bulk between Clawroline's breasts and dived face-first into the cake. He gobbled up the sweet treat in a matter of bites. His mashing cheeks wobbled and tickled the inside curves of Clawroline's mountainous breasts. Then, he fell back against her boobs, incapacitated by his wonderful bloat.

Clawroline put her forepaws forward and hugged the dee.

He sighed contentedly.

Clawroline opened her mouth. She pulled the dee towards it. Her bending arms pushed her blubbery forearms against her voluminous biceps.

The dee wriggled and kicked, but he couldn't get anywhere. His thick blubber dampened his movements.

Clawroline's jaws wrapped around her juicy prey. Her cheeks ballooned beyond her plush neck with corpulent dee flesh, billowing onto her shoulders. She grunted the dee down, and he plummeted into her well-padded paunch. Her heavy tits quelled his raucous struggling.

The dees, having completed their cakes, watched in horror. One tried to get up, but it couldn't roll forward onto its feet--its belly was too heavy. Another tried to shift sideways, and it just flopped onto its side in a heap of jiggles. Another was stranded atop its belly with no way to dismount.

Leongar stood halfway between Clawroline and the dees. With his long arm span, he could reach them both with opposite ends. In one hand, he snatched a waddle dee. He passed it to his other paw, which crammed the cushy critter into Clawroline's gluttonous maw.

Clawroline closed her eyes.

The dee was so big, so plump, so succulent.

She scarcely had time to enjoy its futile fumbling before another one jammed into her mouth.

The new dee pushed the other one into her gullet.

Her esophagus opened forcibly, beyond her control.

Leongar shoved a third dee in.

The new dee pushed the second one into her throat, slamming the first one through and into her stomach.

A fourth one came, but it caught fast in her mouth and stretched her lips wide.

Leongar picked up the final dee and shoved it against Clawroline's overfull mouth. He pounded the batch down into her, clogging her throat with three obese dees at once.

Clawroline moaned and gasped and clawed at her neck. She gritted her teeth, then pumped her esophagus as hard as she could. Her gullet constricted and slammed the remaining dees into her belly. Her gut thumped outward dramatically, bouncing her heavy breasts. Her midsection stretched around her tousling prey. It leaned far over her knees, swelled well past her hips, and nudged her breasts up. It blocked her vision with a wall of belly.

Clawroline wheezed and panted. Her stomach churned and moaned. The size of her meal, coupled with its anxious wriggling, made her feel huge. Its heft squashed her corpulent ass deeper into the chair that she already didn't fit.

Clawroline rubbed her massive breasts. Her fat paws couldn't reach to the front of her breasts, but she could fondle their pert peaks. She caressed out to their sides, and she pinched their dense, overflowing sides. They covered her waist. So, to reach her belly, she had to dig her paws under her tremendous tits. The sides of her stomach were firm as concrete, and she could feel her meal even through her sides. Below that, her hindpaws grasped at a bouquet of hip folds, where her haunches billowed with lard. Her claws could just barely flip through their fat. She couldn't reach any further down her body.

She lazed in the chair, huffing. Her massive bulk expanded far beyond her reach and weighed her down into the chair.

Leongar knelt at her side and placed his massive palm on her belly. Even at her colossal size, Leongar's paw fit her round stomach. His touch eased her tense skin and suppressed the roiling dees.

His other forepaw pointed Clawroline to a nearby screen.

Clawroline craned her head to see past her slouching breast.

Onscreen, a fat, blue penguin whacked a massive mallet at Kirby. The penguin looked tasty.

Clawroline licked her teeth.