Selph
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Jayce's Gift
🕑 Added 2022-07-05 22:48:47 +0000 UTCCommission for Jayce!
TW: Drug mention, heavy male intimacy.
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Jayce took the stairs to his apartment door, the elevator was broken for the third time in two weeks. His hoodie clung to him awkwardly, sweat staining his underarms, the crease beneath his breasts, and other parts of the body where heat and moisture collected on a fat man’s body. He puffed frantically, and leaned on the railing by the stairwell for support. It creaked under his weight but he remained there until he felt fit enough to walk again. If the railing broke and he fell, he fell. He was too tired to consider something as trivial as his own safety.
He wasn’t an inactive man, just a fat one. His stamina had been depleted by something insidious: Customer Service.
Jayce worked as waitstaff at a restaurant downtown. He mostly worked lunch shifts, which were usually a modest affair of regular customers. However his manager had other plans for him today, and asked him - in that sort of ‘do this or your fired subtlety’ managers are known for - to cover the dinner rush as well. It was the height of tourism season, the restaurant was packed, and Jayce had been on his feet for longer than any blue panda should ever be expected to.
His wide feet pulsed with ache in his dress shoes. If he could wear his comfortable shoes to work, he might have been able to avail himself of the pain of waiting tables for eight hours straight.
He inserted the key into his door, and squeezed through a doorway a few inches too small to properly admit him. Jayce was average height for a blue panda, his weight was another story.
Jayce struggled with getting his hoodie over his head. He pulled it off and found his formal t-shirt was completely ruined by perspiration. The thick grey circles in the otherwise white button-up would need a deep clean to get rid of. He gave himself one look in the mirror and pulled a face, reckoning with the inevitable trip he’d need to make to the laundromat before Monday’s shift. He only had one copy of his work’s uniform, the clothes were too expensive to buy in ten XL.
Blue pandas his size typically wore whatever they could afford. That meant earth tones and loose fits from whichever clothing retailer had enough stock. Plus sizes beyond five xl were a nightmare, finding something he liked in a ten was like picking a needle out of a haystack. He occasionally got lucky. It’s just that luck wasn’t going to help him get a new mega-sized white dress shirt, with his name and the restaurant’s monogrammed over the left breast.
He wouldn’t change himself just to lower the cost of clothes however. He was proud of his size, he revelled in it. Not everyone could say they had the power to shake the ground with a belly flop.
Jayce was as wide as the five seater tables he waited on at the restaurant, and heavier than its customers combined into one. His fat collected primarily in his belly, hips, and thighs, curving him outward like a juice filled pear. From the chest down to his stomach, then down across his thighs to his ankles his fur was a cool, earthy shade of brown. It contrasted the royal blue that covered his shoulders, his back, and most of his long tail. A brush of groomed white hair rested beneath his breasts, with the same white colouration trailing from his belly button down to his crotch.
His plump face sported thick dark brown beard-fur that ran ear to ear, with a thinner moustache-like section crossing his muzzle, and possessed short eyebrows above white fur that covered his mouth, the space around his eyes, and over the top of his muzzle. He considered himself quite handsome, and styled his blue head fur in a large swooped back tuft between his pointed ears.
He padded into the bathroom and squeezed into the shower cubicle. It was a tight fit and he could feel the glass against his skin. It was cold, the panes had been left in an unheated apartment since last night and felt like sheets of ice against Jayce’s overheated body. He turned a knob on the wall.
The hot water was a welcome sensation against his overheated flesh. He reached for a bottle on a shelf above his head, it had to be placed there or risk being crushed every time he took a shower. He applied a generous helping of shower gel to his body, lathering up his fur with a distinct smell of coconut milk. He sighed, content in the privacy of his shower. It was a small luxury but it was one that was absolutely his.
Something that was also his, unfortunately, was the frustration he felt. He didn’t expect anything grand, or beyond a greeting; he just expected someone to say happy birthday. Today was his birthday and no one had remembered, he hadn’t even received a phone call from his family, or a text from his friends. The only present he received was his manager’s surprise in the form of mandatory overtime. He probably wasn’t even going to get paid for it.
Jayce finished showering and changed into a comfortable t-shirt that hung loose on him, one he had pre-stretched by owning for years and through various different weights. He pulled on a pair of boxers and moved to the living room. While fishing for the remote he noticed a box on the left-most cushion of his sofa.
It was large and purple with a blue ribbon, and it was almost bigger than the cushion it rested on. Apprehension raised gooseflesh on his skin beneath the fur. Had someone gotten into his house while he was at work? He hadn’t received any correspondence from his friends or family, so if this was a gift from someone, it was well hidden. Jayce wasn’t keen on surprises.
He checked his spare key and found it was still safely hidden behind his dishes in the kitchen. Jayce wandered back to the box and checked the tag, it was written in a glittery blue ink and in handwriting he felt a vague familiarity from. “Some of us want balloons, and a parade to commemorate their special day. You on the other hand? I think you want what’s in this box, happy birthday.”
The tag was signed by an arrangement of five diamonds arranged in a symmetrical cross, overlapping to form an odd symbol. Like a rune. It gave him a sensation halfway between foreboding and excitement. He definitely remembered seeing this mark somewhere before, but his memory just wasn’t pulling through. He untied the bow, removed the lid, and gasped.
A beer stein made of dark, lacquered wood with a faint purple hue to its grain rested on a velvet cushion. Jayce lifted it and saw that the metal bands around its base and lip were encrusted with sapphires, this was a gaudy thing he could never afford on his salary. It was also just the sort of thing he dreamed of one day owning. Ornate steins had a romanticism to them, he liked to imagine himself as a great king of a fantasy land. With a bejewelled stein in one hand, glugging beer and wanting for nothing except his next meal.
There was something else next to the cushion. A long purple box like the ones expensive jewellery was kept in. Jayce opened it to reveal a silver smoking pipe. Instead of sapphires, the pipe was bedazzled with purple gemstones he didn’t recognize.
A note had been included that read: A little birdy told me that you like to ‘partake’ in the ritual of smoking plants, I had no idea your kind enjoyed that! To that effect I have included this pipe, to accompany your new stein. Simply warm the stein with your body heat, and bring the pipe to your lips. I’ve been told that I should also give a name to the ‘strain’ it produces. How about Magenta Friend? The hue is inaccurate, but the phrase should help you remember me. Enjoy, try not to get too carried away.
“Don’t get carried away?” Jayce shrugged. “Whoever sent this doesn’t know me very well then,” he flumped down on the couch. The cushions upended and bent towards his gravity. He finished rooting around for his remote and turned on the TV. He flicked through the channels, and settled on a channel featuring a reality show. The Real Bears of Sunburst Hills. It was trashy, but comfortable. He had already seen this season but it was a good one, and having half-naked bears to ogle didn’t hurt.
Jayce followed the instructions by pressing the stein to his stomach with his right hand. He waited for his natural body heat to confer onto the drinking vessel, and observed the pipe in his left hand. He brought the mouthpiece to his lips and the gemstones lit up. The heady smell of weed filled the chamber and spilled over the bowl. It had a sweetness mixed in with it, and when he inhaled it went down smoother than any strain he had tried before. He swore he felt it filling his belly like a soft balloon, but that was probably his imagination.
He felt the distant tingling of a nascent high and smiled. When he looked back to the stein, his eyes widened. Waiting for him was a golden brew, the smell of which made his mouth water. A faint bitterness with a lightly floral aroma. He took a sip, the foam painted his moustache white, and the bubbles tickled his throat. The taste was strong, thick, and unexpectedly sweet without being cloying. He guzzled it down with his head tipped back to help the flow of beer, until he was sure he had been drinking for ten seconds straight.
Jayce was surprised when he looked into the stein and the beer was still waiting for him, a new head of foam slowly forming from the golden draft.
“These things actually work?” He mouthed in disbelief.
Jayce decided to test his limits. He leaned his head back and chugged from the stein for as long as he could. He poured the beer into himself, like he was filling a water balloon from a tap. He glugged and glugged, until he felt a pinprick of bloatedness in his stomach and his head started to ache from a lack of breath. He bent forward to take in a heaving breath, and felt a pang of discomfort in his chest.
His cheeks puffed up and his stomach rumbled. His chest rumbled and felt like a huge bubble had been forced inside of him. He braced himself and for a brief moment, felt like he was about to burst from head to toe, when a belch loud enough to shake the window panes erupted from his mouth. The pressure eased, replaced by a blush that painted his deflated cheeks scarlet. His boxers tented in the aftermath, Jayce always had a ‘thing’ for bloating himself. He looked at the stein and wondered if he should try it again.
“Hoo boy,” he puffed. “That was intense.”
He turned back to the pipe and fidgeted with it in his left hand. The inside of the bowl was empty, but the high he was thorough in the middle of said otherwise. Was this a magical item? Jayce had heard of them in passing, but he assumed they were either fakes made up to embellish a story or something so rare he would never encounter one. There was a feeling of pressure around the pipe and the stein, the same as the air before a storm. Except instead of ozone, his nostrils were filled with a sweet, lavender scent.
Jayce put the piece between his lips. The jewels lit up and smoke poured from the bowl, this time in a plume that rose to the ceiling and curtained down. Its payload turned purple and fountained with an intensity belied by the pipe’s diminutive size. He felt himself fill up with a dream like warmth, the whites of his eyes turning a gentle shade of pink. He looked around and struggled to see beyond the arms of the couch, everything in his living room had been consumed by a heavy purple fog.
He smiled peacefully and blew rings into the air. With so much beer in his gut, he was the heaviest he had ever been, and yet he felt so light. Jayce drank from his stein again. He was sure of it now. He was filled with smoke, not just beer. He looked at his belly and felt aroused by the fact it had distended several inches, he wanted to see how much further he could fill it. “Aw, yeah. This is the stuff,” he murmured.
Puff, drink, smoke, glug. He stocked himself with weed smoke and unending beer in equal measure. After every cycle he saw the apex of his gut grow a little further forward, sag a little more past his knees. He wondered if he could keep growing. He was so enraptured by his own pleasure that he barely registered the hands rubbing his shoulders, as they loosened the knots in his deep-buried muscles.
“Keep going, you deserve it,” said a voice from the fog. It emerged in front of him speaking in a deep, masculine, and raspy voice. A creature made of smoke came forward to rub at Jayce’s stomach. It possessed the shape of a bear, eerily familiar. Its thick limbs and pillowy muscles were carved out of gauzy purple smoke, but its touch was solid enough to rouse Jayce’s desire. He saw another out of the corner of his eye behind him, connected to the manly hands in the middle of giving him a shoulder massage.
“Oh yeah?” Jayce laughed, half-convinced the weed in the magical pipe wasn’t weed at all, and that he was hallucinating the affair. If none of this was real, there was no harm in asking them for something ridiculous, he thought. “You know what I deserve, since it’s my birthday?”
The smoke bears leaned in to listen to Jayce. “What do you want?” They asked in unison.
“I want a whole harem of you, and I want you to be bigger. I want you to be fucking pumped, a big fatass like me needs a strong pair of hands to knead all of THIS,” he shook his gut.
“As you command.” The smoke bears blew into their own thumbs. Their muscles inflated until their heads were consumed between their bulging shoulders, until they ‘burst’ and reformed into two identical creatures. They repeated this blowing up and bursting multiple times, until a dozen wispy creatures rendered to Jayce’s specifications stood around him in a circle.
“Alright, now service me until I blow. Use these too,” he handed the magical items to the smoke bears.
They got to work immediately. Completely under Jayce’s orders, they kneaded him all over. One of them, the largest, climbed his belly with its legs straddling his flanks. It bucked its hips and made his fat roll like the waves of a dense ocean, then leaned forward to kiss him. Its muzzle was warm and it puffed more smoke down Jayce’s throat. He felt his throat fill with the magical smoke. It kept pouring into him, swelling him up like a heavy balloon. There was a tension that lasted only for a few moments, then his body remembered it was meant to be fat, not light, and the expanded section billowed out as new flab.
“More,” Jayce said. “Make me unrecognizable, I want to be bigger than big.”
The bears tipped the couch forward. Jayce was left resting on his own ever-growing belly. His confusion didn’t last long. Two smoke bears ripped his boxers off and used their whole body to knead a single ass cheek, and gently pulled them apart. A third smoke bear climbed between his ravine of an ass crack, and licked, and pleased his hole. Jayce’s buried cock twitched with delight. It had been so long since he had someone in there. The smoke bear pressed harder and blew.
Jayce heard the sound of something inflating. Something dense. He curled his paw digits and realized what it was when he saw two blue and white furred spheres, billowing up and over his back. His ass was being pumped up like a pair of hot air balloons with weed-smoke. He struggled to not lose his mind at the sensation, each second of stretching brought him closer to a far off orgasm that he was hotly anticipating yet wished it wouldn’t arrive. It just felt so good. His ass ballooned, and ballooned, and ballooned, until the smoke bears moved him “upright.” He was able to recline into his own colossal rear like a couch, and the thought of being big enough to be his own upholstery drove him wild.
While his ass wobbled and occasionally creaked with the properties of huge, heavy balloons, the rest of him remained decadently soft. The smoke bears picked a section of his body to worship. One took a funnel and poured the never-ending beer into his mouth, his throat bulged frog-like. He spilled out in the shape of an avalanche, his upper arms softening up and plumping like pudding filled innertubes. His forearms and paws became thick, and unwieldy. Even the pads of his clawed paw-hands had rounded out, like tiny mattresses.
“Oh man, I’m getting so fat, I don’t want it to end.”
“We need to make you blow, master.”
The smoke bears worked in unison to lift Jayce’s horizon of a belly. One of them crawled underneath, spelunking through his fat until it reached his fat pad. It was huge and the only proof a penis ever existed within it, was a small indent that leaked watery pre-cum like a hidden deposit of groundwater. “Your cock is buried deep, master.”
The thought made him leak harder. “Go digging,” he saw two of the smoke bears climb up towards his chest. “Do whatever you have to do,” he giggled.
The smoke bear pushed its head deep within the fat cave around Jayce’s pubic area until he reached his short, thick phallus. Its warm tongue lapped at it, and somehow despite being made of gasses, the inside of its mouth was moist and pleasurable. Jayce cried out at the sudden burst of stimulation, his eyes starting to go cross-eyed at the first hints of orgasm. Something in the mixture of magical weed and arcane beer had heightened his senses. He could feel every lick, every shift of the creature’s gums over his stocky member. When it bobbed its head back and forth over the shaft, Jayce felt like he could have exploded like a firework on the spot.
“Mmmmmoooooore, I want to feel good, make me feel good!”
The smoke bears who climbed Jayce placed their mouths over his nipples and blew. His breasts graduated from giant melons, to water balloons fit for soaking entire crowds worth of people. He moaned at the sensation. The bigger his chest got, the more sensitive it became. He gripped the backs of the bear’s heads and shoved them deep into his nipples, his moob-flesh spilling out around their muzzles. He thought his moobs were about to blow, when the creatures removed their faces and hot purple smoke leaked from Jayce’s nipples.
The bears stopped filling them up, by that time Jayce could barely see past his overfilled moobs. He could barely see thanks to a mixture of a high-induced delirium, and the imposing physicality of his giant body. He could still feel however, oh god could he feel.
“We praise the master. We serve the master. We fill the master. We help the master reach his pleasure.”
The bears chanted.
“We fatten the master. We expand the master. We stretch the master. We bring the master to the point of no return.”
Jayce’s breathing accelerated rapidly, his chest heaving with his lustful huffing and puffing. He was getting close. Whether it was the smoke, the high, or something in the beer, he could feel the first pulses of an orgasm spread beyond his cock into his pubic region. It traveled up into his hips, his belly, his chest, then out to his arms and legs and even his face. It was like his entire body had been transmuted into a giant sexual organ, one that was frightfully receptive to touch.
The smoke bears dug deep into his softness. Deep, deep, deeper than anyone had before. Jayce felt like they were reaching not just into his flesh, but into his spirit, kneading and repairing the cracks in his mood. Their gauzy hands touched at the negativity he had buried within him since he arrived at his front door, and transmuted it into pure bliss. Jayce’s body responded in kind by growing even fatter, into blob-like proportions. He was a mound of soft, beer filled blue and brown fur, with an expanded ass big enough to seat a football team.
“I’m getting close, ugh, keep going. More, make me drink more. Push more smoke into me. I want to be full as hell before I cum… !”
The bears obliged. Beer was funnelled into him in a volume like never before. Jayce struggled to drink all of it, so some of it spilled out the corners of his mouth and trickled down his fat rolls like tiny golden waterfalls. The bear working on his ass resumed his blowing. His ass refused to swell any bigger, so the smoke pushed into his belly and chest instead. He was awash in a sea of sensations, overloaded, overstuffed. He couldn’t tell which way was up, or which was down.
The only thing he did know is that he felt like a cosmic balloon. A fat, heavy, oscillating blimp of lard and smoke and alcohol. In his mind he spread out across the universe, where he was the brightest star and lesser suns were brushed aside by his infinity like specs of dust. He glowed, deeply, from his crotch. An electric blue sensation that shone with the force of the big bang. His eyes rolled back and he felt fit to burst. He was going to sunder with pleasure, he was unable to stop it now. He was about to blow.
“About to blow, about to blow, about to bloooooooow,” he wobbled furiously, unable to buck his hips, pinned down by his mega-fatness. He was brought back to reality by a sharp, potent sensation deep within his fat pad.
His cock twitched.
He spat the funnel out.
Jayce belch-roared and cried in ecstasy at the same time.
He exploded, cum gushed from his short dick in torrential volumes. He felt the smoke-bear underneath him swell up with his seed. He kept going, and going. A second orgasm built up and warned him it was about to erupt, but the visceral sensation was never something he could have prepared for. He came the second time with so much force he was pushed back into his gigantic ballooned ass, and he belch-howled powerfully enough to disperse the fog around him.
His body felt heavy, too weighty, and overworked. Jayce struggled to keep his eyes open, he had experienced such a high and now he felt like he was falling into the most comfortable sleep of his life. The last thing he saw was the smoke bears arranging themselves in a line like actors after a play. They took a bow, announcing their departure, and Jayce passed out.
When Jayce woke up he was in a smokeless apartment. Still engorged and gluttonous, with the pipe and stein resting on his moobs. He picked up the pipe and wondered if he could summon the bears again. He looked up at the clock, it was ten o’clock at night. It was still technically his birthday. Jayce brought the pipe to his lips, and felt it heat up.
“Round two.”
