Crit Success (Patreon Commission for VDO)

The four of them sat at the table in utmost silence. The tension was thick enough that you’d need a butcher’s knife to cut through it, and the eight eyes all around followed the same objects as it flew across the cheap, plastic surface in between them. With a soft clatter, the two dice rolled from one side to the other, their thrower eagerly awaiting the result of their twenty-sided luck… and then immediately going crestfallen when the closest equivalent of snake eyes happened.

“That’s a crit fail,” the snow leopard behind the screen sighed, double checking the stats they had noted down, “and I don’t like the odds of you making it through that pit.”

“Oh come on, I just re-rolled this one!” the wolf cried out, having to hold himself back not to pound his fist on the table.

“Yes, and you decided to turn what was a perfectly fine barbarian warrior into some kind of weird Japanese kitsune hybrid that has to pass strength checks every time she wants to take a step!” the GM grumbled, giving a once-over to his friend’s character sheet and trying not to make any derisive comments, “You’re lucky I’m not making you take those, otherwise we’d be here all night.”

“It’s not my fault she’s pudgy, dude.”

“She is literally, and I quote, ‘nine and a half tons of pure, hand-filling, overflowing, oft-sweaty flab’, in accordance with this piece of paper you asked me not to reveal to anyone.”

The ensuing bout of giggling was enough to force the wolf to slip underneath the table, practically melting off his chair before his own rotund belly got stuck halfway through. It was no secret that Tom had put a lot of his… “best be kept secret” desires into the new character after their previous one met an unfortunate end at the hands of a butcher carrying more cleavers than brain cells, but everyone at the table politely pretended like it was a genuine attempt at character creation as opposed to some weird sort of self-insert thing.

This was, of course, thanks to literally everyone else doing much of the same.

The adventure had started off normally enough, with the group using a bunch of premade characters with generic backstories in an effort to speed that part of the game along; while their group leader had ample experience in running tabletop games like those, his friends most certainly did not. It was a favour on the leopard’s part to hand out simple characters like those just to prevent his closest acquaintances from immediately losing interest in the game, figuring that after he got them hooked, it’d be easy to convince them to take the time required to actually develop their PCs.

What the snow leopard hadn’t expected was his closest friends turning out to have a laundry list of fetishes far longer than he had anticipated, and the complete lack of self-restraint required to keep said kinks away from his meticulously crafted and plotted-out storyline. Even for a seasoned veteran like himself, it was difficult to make an epic adventure in the sword&sandal style when the PCs he was dealing with happened to include a nine-and-a-half-ton vixen, a gigantic half-centaur type creature with a weird fixation on feet, and what had to be the biggest “big bear gay” stereotype he had ever seen in his life; damn bastard had enough hair on him that he felt like brushing every time he picked up the character sheet, to say nothing of the oddly-appropriate dad energy he exhuded in every single NPC interaction.

Still no clue how he passed that persuasion roll with a -10 due to his “pec hug”.

Nonetheless, he couldn’t bring himself to hate it. He was annoyed, sure; everything he had planned had been derailed and he as the GM had been forced to resort to his seldom-used improvisational skills, rusty from years of being ignored. It wasn’t his strongest suit, nor even his tenth-strongest one; anything that involved coming up with things on the fly inevitably led to his players running laps around him without even trying, stressing his ability to react to unpredicted events to the absolute maximum. It wasn’t an easy style to work with, and he was well aware of it, but he thought that it would be a good introduction to the world of tabletop games until they could find someone else to run something a bit more open-ended and narrative-based.

Meanwhile, he had to contend with three people who were far more interested in living out their self-insert fantasies than searching for the lost treasure of Amagarr, or even so much as speaking to the local elder for directions on how to walk out of the desert without dying of thirst. He had to constantly remind them that no, they couldn’t just live off of the kitsune-hybrid’s milk because that wasn’t how physics worked, and neither could the massive taur creature walk on sand like it was nothing when the sun was up and temperatures reached high enough to boil eggs. In fact, the short time they had playing with these “characters” had been riddled with so many faulty assumptions about how things worked and blatant abuses of rules as written that their GM had to enact a desperate control measure in the form of the “Error Jar”: deliberately break a rule to fulfill a kink, throw a dollar in the jar.

Things quickly got back on track after that.

Despite this, he continued to enable his friends to a degree that even he found surprising; he’d never given anyone half as much leeway as he did them, even other acquaintances who were starting out, which made it especially worrying that he found himself constantly nodding along, even if he told himself it was just for the sake of getting them into the game. He kept saying that long after it was applicable, even when he caved in and allowed the vixen to milk herself for five gallons of a “smooth, refreshing drink” every day without writing it down, cross-checking with their weight stat or just bothering with the realism of it, really.

It was weird. He wasn’t sure if he liked it, but he did it anyway, and by the gods did it confuse him every time they left his dorm and he was alone for the night. Lot of weird thoughts swimming in his head.

“Maybe your fat ass will be wide enough to plug the hole,” the snake by Tom’s side suggested, “you can’t fall somewhere when your hips are caught on the side.”

Tabitha’s comment was spoken in jest, but both the leopard and wolf’s ears perked up the moment she uttered those words; the GM because he knew his friend would actually take that suggestion seriously and demand an extremely complicated dice roll, and Tom because… well, that. His eyes lit up at the mere mention of him being able to use his character’s immense body to their advantage in one of the more classic of ways, but before he could even get a single sound out, the leopard lifted a finger and preemptively shut everyone up.

“I’m going to allow you a single re-roll. This one time, because I’m genuinely afraid of what you might come up with if I force you to make another character.”

“Maybe he can make the next one fifteen tons with five pairs of tits that lactate so much we have to go check if any system has rules for breast pumps.”

Much like the snake girl, Samantha’s comment had not been spoken in earnest, and the badger’s tone was very clear in that regard; if she had the capacity to smile, rather than being stuck in a perpetual, entirely-artificial scowl, she would be grinning like a maniac at the chance of poking fun at Tom’s kinks. As it stood, she delivered those words in the most monotone tone of voice possible, prompting their GM to have to lean over the table and bap Tom across the muzzle to get the idea out of their head.

“You have no right to complain, Sam,” the leopard snapped back, “least I have to remind you of the time you asked me if you could ‘milk my Bara pecs for daddy milk’ back in Samera.”

It was time for the other two to start giggling at the goth badger, who somehow developed the faintest hint of a blush despite their seeming inability to express any emotion but blank apathy. Her eyes scanned the table and then fixated on her lap, where her two hands crossed and held one another so tightly their knuckles turned white. She wanted to tell them all to shut up and go away, but to do so would be to give away how much their words were affecting her; an impossible prospect.

“And before anyone says anything,” their GM added, turning towards the snake, “you, madam, are going to let me curate your search history from now on, because I am not going to have targeted ads for foot porn thanks to you constantly being on your phone. And yes, I know you’re on your phone, and that’s incredibly rude to everyone else at the table.”

There were no giggles that time around, just dejected faces and a very sad snek slithering away to place their phone on the nearest table. By the time she sat back down, coiling her body underneath the chair, the leopard was rubbing his temple and trying extremely hard not to just make the fall happen.

“Uhm…” Tom spoke up, mumbling for a bit before his words became comprehensible, “I’ve been rolling nothing but critical failures all night, do you mind if I… do something about that?”

“... do what?” the GM sighed.

“Well, I brought these dice with me, you see…”

Everyone’s faces perked up at those words, including that of the snow leopard, whose never-ending headache at his friends’ shenanigans had just been given an “out” in the form of some mutual nerding out over a cool dice set. He even forgot about what they were doing when he excitedly asked for his friend to bring them out, allowing Tom the reprieve he needed to get his thoughts in order.

In truth, the dice in his pocket were a very special set for him; he had cast them himself using a 3D printer that was absolutely his and not at all swiped from work for the express purpose of following some instructions he found online about “infusing” dice with luck via a very precise series of steps that, while obtuse, promised to give every roleplayer the best possible luck they could ever need. Being the oddly superstitious type, Tom bought into the whole thing immediately, ordering up enough resin to print himself a custom set of 20 of those bad boys.

It didn’t occur to the wolf that the reason the dice would make him lucky was probably because their weighting was deliberately modified so that higher results were more likely; all he really cared about was that they looked really cool, and the instructions said that he could then paint them however he wanted, giving him something to do for a few hours while he waited for a separate set to print out, this one meant as a gift to his GM friend once the adventure was over.

The other three sitting around them gawked at the brilliantly-crafted and expertly-painted dice case, with Tom looking incredibly embarrassed at how much they were staring at something he’d made with his own hands and stolen equipment.

“Those are probably fudged, but I don’t care,” the leopard declared, “roll for agility.”

Tom nodded and grabbed one of the d20s, rolling it across the board and silently hoping that all the work put into them would pay off. And, just like in the movies, time seemed to slow down as the small thing teetered on the edge of giving him a result that would doom him to character creation… just before tipping over into an all-natural 20!

“Lucky bastard…” the GM mumbled, smiling like an idiot while the table erupted into laughter and cheer.

“Lucky dice! Lucky dice!” Tom kept repeating, laughing his ass off and slamming one hand against the table, “Oh god, that was beautiful!”

The miniature celebration served as the perfect distraction for the four people at the table, with none of them noticing what had just happened to the wolf’s body right after rolling the nat 20. With him used to being on the chubby side, it wasn’t all that surprising that his shirts had a tendency of running up his torso; but what wasn’t normal was for his baggy stuff, normally reserved for informal meet-ups like those, to suddenly feel so tight around everything. Tom didn’t give it a second thought, not even when he absentmindedly scratched his belly and found fur instead of fabric… and a lot more fur than used to be there as well. Even while sitting down straight on his chair, his rotund belly still bumped against the table, and the only person to notice it, the ever-taciturn badger, was too busy trying not to be aroused to say anything about it.

With the jump over the chasm complete, it was time to move onto the next leg of the adventure. More out of courtesy than anything else, their GM allowed them a perception roll, if only because he wanted to take the opportunity to teach them a lesson about not trying to waste time in a literal desert. Surprisingly, Tom rolled another natural 20 with his special dice, and while the leopard had to take a couple of minutes to come up with anything of worth to note down, head buried in his papers, the sudden increase in weight that strained the wolf’s chair became noticeable to the other two when Samantha, in a rare instance of her emotions getting the better of her, let out a small squeak! This drew both Tabitha and Tom’s eyes to the latter’s body, who had very clearly ballooned with enough extra pudge that he had been pushed away from the table and had his chair scrape along the floor hard enough to leave marks. 

The wolf sat there staring at his immenseness, wondering just where all that belly had come from… before making the mistake of bringing both of his hands to it, feeling how his fingers sank into his softness, and flustering the goth badger so much that she failed her willpower check and brought both hands to her mouth, having to stifle so many moans and lewd comments that her façade of uncaring apathy completely broke apart. Tabitha wanted to say something in order to tease her, but figured it was better to see what their GM would say once he looked up.

“So, you see a bunch of vultures out in the distance, circling in the air,” the leopard made up on the spot, throwing his notes behind him, “so you think there might be a… cor…”

His words trailed off when he saw what had happened to his friend Tom. He was very easily twice his original size, maybe even more, openly groping his flabby rolls and enjoying it far, far too much. To his side, the goth badger was clearly rubbing her legs together, and on the other the snake girl was obviously trying to come up with a snarky comment.

“You need to lay off the milk, dude,” the GM chuckled, causing Samantha to belt out a short-lived moan that forced every eye on her. The blush was luminescent enough to be seen through both the hands she used to cover her face, and so uncharacteristic that it held everyone’s attention until she waved them off, “anyway, let’s keep going.”

The game progressed as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened; Tom continued to use his special dice, growing wider and heavier every time they landed on a nat 20, which was so suspiciously often that their GM began wondering if he shouldn’t be doing something to stop it. The dice were either deliberately fudged or just poorly-balanced, and the resulting slew of unnaturally good results was threatening to completely derail a story that was already straining to remain in the same country as the railway company itself… but everyone was having such a great time that the snow leopard just couldn’t bring himself to stop it. Tom in particular was loving whatever it was that was happening to his body, Samantha was consistently failing to hide how much her friend’s fattening was arousing her, and Tabitha just hung out by the side, occasionally taking a peek underneath the table to check if her friend’s chubby paws happened to be gaining mass in an equal measure to the rest of him.

The snake wasn’t at all disappointed.

It became obvious as time passed that the wolf was becoming a reflection of his own PC; gaining weight was one thing, but Tom’s fur colour was steadily changing to match the “radiant, golden-hued, silky-smooth” fur of the hybrid vixen he was so happy to play. The badger by his side was just barely keeping her hands away from it, occasionally sneaking them a few inches closer in the hopes of grabbing a handful right before the special dice landed on a 20 again, and she had to flinch not to have that rotund belly overflow from her timid fingers. It was obvious that Tom would outgrow the table they were sitting against. Barely half an hour had passed since he brought his special set out and his chair had already snapped, forcing him to sit on his considerably-sized ass; it was a testament to how wide it was that the wolf was still eye-level with everyone else, even ending up a little taller after a few more rolls.

With the elephant in the room growing ever more impossible to ignore, it was down to whoever broke first to call attention to the fact that their friend was turning into their self-insert. It was probably no longer correct to even call him a he at all, not after his moobs swapped their “m” with a “b” and started to leak profusely, streams of pure white running down their sides and onto the ground, pooling by their immense thighs and threatening to start flowing out of the door. Their tail as well had split into multiple identical copies, each far fluffier than it had been before and long enough to wrap around their owner’s gigantic belly; not that they’d be able to in practice, as they seemed to inherit the same kind of excessive pudge that permeated every other layer of Tom’s body. Tom himself (or was it Cynthia, the vixen-kitsune?) was unashamedly enjoying himself to the fullest, openly groping his new breasts and trying to stuff them in his face, only failing thanks to it being more or less buried in his bulging neck fat.

Any outside observer would probably put their money on Tabitha or their GM being the ones to do something about their friend taking up a good third of the room and having become immobile thanks to their vast girth, but it was Samantha, whose carefully crafted exterior had collapsed like the cheap coat of paint it was, that finally put an end to the shenanigans… by reaching out to grab the special dice herself. It was obvious what was happening, and she wanted some of it, even if no one at the table quite knew how the hell it was all working.

“M-mind if I use these?” she sheepishly requested, paws hovering over a couple of the dice. It was hard for her to look Tom (Cynthia?) in the eye, their mere presence being enough to make her want to change her underwear, “I-I think they’re lucky…”

It was a nonsense excuse, they all knew it, their GM it, and yet they all allowed it anyway. Tabitha was too busy trying to play footsie with the growing vixen, the snow leopard was desperately attempting to keep his growing erection from showing, and Sam… well, Samantha was the one starting the whole thing. She probably thought she’d be allowed to pick up the dice of her own accord, and thus wasn’t ready for Cynthia to give her a special treat; the badger had expected her to be too far gone in her own little world to react to any outside stimulus outside of rolling for more fat, and was therefore quite surprised when one of the kitsune’s tails slammed against the table, very nearly breaking it in half when its full weight was brought to bear. The bloated appendage still somehow wrapped itself around the set of dice and plopped itself onto Samantha’s lap, also straining her chair’s ability to stay up and turning the badger’s face so red that it was probably burned into her from that point forward. She got to experience the tubby roll slithering off of her, its heft leaving her experiencing some kind of existential drain when no longer in contact with her; for a moment, she knew heaven, and its name was Cynthia.

She needed some of it.

Contrary to any proper etiquette, the snow leopard decided to continue the adventure-turned-self-indulgent-fanfic; unbeknownst to the three players, their GM wasn’t as stoic as he liked to pretend to be, and beneath the harsh admonishments and occasional jabs at his friend’s competence (or lack thereof), there lay a mind that contained just as many hidden desires as everyone else’s. Granted, his were… probably not as exaggerated as his friends’, but they were still there; nothing better in his imagination than to take a few traits from the opposite sex and blend them with his own, crafting for himself the perfect fusion of the best of both worlds. It would come as a surprise to the folks at the table that his own search history was chock-full of search queues with the word “herm”, and part of the reason for him to carry on with the session was the distant hope of getting to play with the magical dice himself.

His players came first, though. The snow leopard was the one to suggest that Tabitha start using the specially-crafted set as well, mostly out of curiosity for how a snake would turn into a dragon-taur with paws big enough to fill the whole room; would be interesting to see how that would play out when Tom-Cynthia was approaching the “half of the room in volume” milestone.

The adventure continued and so did the dice rolls, nat 20 after nat 20 resulting in all three players being increasingly morphed into a form approaching that of their characters. Samantha, being the only one whose self-insert matched her species, merely had to grow an extra couple of feet in both height and fur depth, their hirsute self overflowing the table and covering everything in their immense tufts of hair, giving her (him?) the perfect excuse to sink their paws into it and have them vanish, conveniently being able to turn her breasts into her character’s “big buff Bara daddy pecs”... which were still completely covered by their floof, an astounding feat considering how much bigger they themselves were becoming, probably getting closer to Samantha’s dream of producing her very own “daddy milk” than she had intended. Underneath the table, the snake girl in front of them had to contend with a cock that insisted on intruding upon her personal space, long enough to poke at her coils and already throbbing so hard as to shake their miniatures off the table. Any other sane GM would’ve ended it then and there, but seeing as how the leopard was already taking the opportunity to give that massive rod a good rubdown with his paws under the increasingly-unstable table, sanity was no longer a concern for anyone involved.

All that was left was for Tabitha to experience some of the goodness herself, which came far quicker than they could’ve imagined after the snake girl all-but yanked the dice away from the Samantha-turned-Bill, having to power through the immense desire to succumb to the enormous Bara hunk’s voice when he weakly protested against it; it seemed like the massive badger’s rumbling tones resonated just perfectly with everyone’s most sensitive spots, sparking such lust-crazed thoughts in their heads that even the normally-composed GM was openly groping his friend’s thick coating of fur, all concern for the story gone out the window and the previously-railroading leopard now more interested in indulging his friends.

Taby’s own series of unnaturally lucky rolls provoked the greatest, most drastic change yet; while the kitsune-vixen only needed a split tail, extra weight and a new coat of paint, and the badger only really required about half a ton of muscle and three warehouses of fur, the snake girl had to change into a radically different species and completely alter her bone structure to fit with her character’s tauric design. Her friends worried that it would turn out too painful to bear, but the sounds that came out of their throat whenever she threw a 20 around were far too obscene for them to hold onto that thought; with her long coils thickening and developing the muscle required to support her weight, as well as four powerful legs sprouting in two pairs, Tabitha made her arousal known to everyone when she upended the table and scattered the board and the pieces on it over the kitsune’s fat rolls, effectively ending their session there and then.

For a moment, everyone looked at the snow leopard, whose busy, cock-rubbing paws became visible for all to see. The three players probably expected him to put a stop to their little orgy of self-indulgence, but rather than complain, the leopard instead leaned forward and wrapped his upper body around the badger’s engorged shaft, it having grown enough that their GM could very literally hold onto it with his whole body and still have room to spare, something he was happy to test in practice.

With Tabitha free from any interference, and without the need for a story to justify rolling any dice, it was down to her throwing those things around with abandon, her body shifting and changing into a form unrecognizable to anyone but the snake girl herself: large enough that it barrelled through the wall behind her and the ceiling over their head, sufficiently heavy to cave the floor in and have her fall a couple of stories before her colossal paws found solid ground to work with. Despite how far she’d fallen, her head was still on the same floor as her friends, except obviously it took up enough space to actually be most of the floor in and of itself; this gave the other three a perfect view of her eyes rolling into her skull when the combined sensation of her hulking taur body rubbing against the building and the four truck-sized paws feeling every last bit of the debris she had created all conspired to overload her pleasure centers and send her careening off the edge and into what had to be the most powerful climax of her entire life. No one had even gotten near her nethers; hell, with her hands being even bigger than the paws she was shamelessly rubbing against one another, Tabitha knew that they were more than able to pleasure themselves to a degree most people wouldn’t even be able to understand. But the sheer act of being, of having that body, was in itself enough to make her legs quiver and her lower lips to erupt in a veritable geyser of her femcum, taking care of whatever was left of the building behind her. By the end, if they thought the kitsune was massive, they’d have to redefine what that word meant when the taur-dragon ended up blocking the sun and easily picking up what was left of the building in her two colossal hands.

But amidst the ruins of their old place, there was one person that hadn’t gotten into any of the fun. Samantha became her Bara-Badger, Tom was happily milking himself for even more fat and Tabitha… well, Tabitha was special, and would probably need someone of equal size to stop her from moaning loud enough to make windows shatter. But their friend, their GM, was still the same-old leopard he’d always been. Sure, he was happily rubbing himself against a cock that was bigger than him, but it felt unfair for all of them to have turned into their perfect selves while the person that enabled all of that remained as mundane as ever before. It took the badger forcefully ripping him from his member and plopping him down on what was left of the floor for the snow leopard to fall back to reality, after which it was a simple matter of shoving the dice onto his hands for him to know what had to happen.

To his credit, their GM had retained enough of their composure to aim for exactly what they wanted and nothing more. Only a few dice rolls were required to bring them to where they needed to be, filling out their curves below the waist, thinning their shoulders out a bit and redistributing some of that mass to their chest; with their shirt thus filled out and the bulge in their pants at least three times as large as it had been before, the newly-minted herm handed the dice back to kitsune… and went right back to giving the Bara daddy’s cock all the love it deserved.

The badger, meanwhile, got up and turned towards the kitsune-vixen, eager to finally cut loose and give both their bodies a test-drive, all while the looming giant of a taur-dragon continued to rub her paws together after collapsing onto her side, gently placing the building’s wreckage on the ground so her hands could go be busy elsewhere where they were more needed. It was only about five in the afternoon, after all.

Plenty of time to have some more fun.