Fiber Optic Bundles of Joy Pt 11

WARNING

! The following includes weight gain and all around amazing writing !

Once more, written by RabidBadger from FAhttp://www.furaffinity.net/user/rabidbadger

Illustrated by me! Thank you as always, for your continued support <3

This is our last image featuringJoe The Englishman! Thank you so much Joe for the amazing contribution to our campaign and I hope you enjoy your full time position in our crew!

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Joseph woke to a painful cacophony. There were hellishly bright lights shining at his face, he was on his back and unable to move his arms or legs (though he was able to try – which meant it wasn’t Red’s doing – he felt actual restraints on his ankles and wrists this time), loud cheers and shouts battering at his senses from all sides, the painful grinding emptiness of a long neglected stomach, the hot flashes of what might be drugs in his system, and finally his attempts to even ask what was going on were marred by the presence of a thick hose that was shoved into his muzzle – strapped in place and prying his jaw wide open.

Red’s voice was in the mix too – that was almost a relief. At least it was probably a good thing, and if he couldn’t speak with his face at least his Captain could fill him in. So he got to thinking very loudly (which came quite easily right now) ‘what the BOLLOCKS is going on!?’

Ah! You’re awake – excellent. You uhm, seem to have ended up in a skosh of debt, which I’m sure you know is a dodgy thing to have happen in this place.

Joseph could indeed vaguely recall the game of dice, and not being able to process payment as quickly as he liked – but damned was that mink ever impatient. He was both eager to find out what the heck happened, and dreading it. A further attempt at opening his eyes met with no more success than the last though, too damn bright.

“Ah! Excellent! Our entertainment seems to be ready folks! Right on schedule. Now everyone remembers the rules yes?”

The otter squinted hard, eyes watering – but had to figure this out. He saw a few vague shapes – people standing around, something the hose in his mouth went to. This felt familiar, worrisomely so. Joseph questioned again in his mind, hoping Red was listening.

So yeah, apparently you were ‘collected’ after that – you don’t owe so much that they’re trying to claim ownership of you or anything, but they ah – they do want-“

The speaker’s amplified voice – amused and feminine – interrupted once more. Joseph found he could almost make her out – white fur, definitely. That and the hose, the other end of it seemed to be heading up to a tank which he expected.

“Donations feed the client’s wallet, which feeds his debt, and him! PEEP show positions are officially full, so without further ado-“

Joseph felt a loud thunk through the hose, and his long experience in maintenance told him precisely what it was. A pump kicking into gear. Something was moving down that hose, and he thought he could half taste, half smell something sweet on the other end. His vision had cleared enough to see the crowd to a degree – the multicolored rabbit and her draconic pet, the mink, countless others – and the hose definitely looked like it belonged to a larger variant of the nutrient paste dispensers they had everywhere in space.

“Start those donations!”

The otter swallowed, which wasn’t really necessary yet – the paste was still coming after all. But the cold sweat he felt on his neck had demanded it, and as soon as the ‘event’ had started a virtual screen popped up in his field of vision that made it all the more clear why it was justified. There were four numbers on it. Current Debt + Fees read at a couple thousand credits in the red. Current Payout was at zero, and those two he had every reason to expect. The other two being ‘current weight’ and ‘projected weight’ were a bit on the worrisome side. Particularly when he heard three little ‘ding’ sounds, each of which reduced his current debt by about twenty or thirty credits – and then looked over at his current weight. Two hundred and sixty kilos current, two hundred and seventy projected. He was in the process of trying to do the math on that when the first taste of something strongly reminiscent of butter cream, orange creamsicle, and custard flooded into his muzzle.

The taste was really the most unexpected thing yet, he’d figured pirates would be cheap – would be just flooding him with ‘free’ gruel. It did an excellent job of distracting Joseph from the next several pings of money coming in – which in all honesty simply meant the flow wasn’t going to stop. He swallowed reflexively as his mouth filled, specifically he did so via the ingrained urge to do so Red had left behind in him after the first feeding session or two, and made another (half-hearted) attempt at pulling on his restraints while trying to ignore the pleasant clenching in his loins.

“Off to a good start! Our cute otter here is able to host this event for us on account of a few interesting digestive mods he’s sporting folks – that and our high mass gain index cattle bulking goo of course. He’ll be on a steady flow until-“

Joseph was already trying to do the math again. Until the debt was paid in full, plus fees. He knew that much. Already having difficulty moving about he fully expected to be using a maglev plate or two to help maneuver his belly by the time this was done. Freaking pirates.

“-such time as thirty seconds or more go by without a donation.”

That marked the second chill Joseph had felt so far. He’d let his eyes drift shut to simply accept it, let it happen, get it over with – but now they shot open and zeroed in on the numbers. He could feel his throat working even as he took the information in, it would’ve been swallowing out of fear if it wasn’t doing so to eat. The debt was a quarter gone already. The projected weight was up to four hundred.

There was a faint whimper that made its way out from around his muzzle.

Don’t worry too much Joseph, I’ve checked the stuff out and it looks like the stuff is safe to eat – also there are some local contracts about this kind of thing so I think they’re actually going to keep their word and let you go after this. Really, it could’ve been a lot worse.

Joseph looked down a himself – he was plenty fat already, waddling everywhere and feeling bits of himself shaking and jiggling with each footfall, but this material flooding into his gut was wasting no time exacerbating the problem. As the other incidents had allowed, he was able to watch as the puffy wads of fat on his arms expanded slowly – like slow filling balloons. He could feel the faint, greasy tingle of his belly working hard and spreading the rest of it around himself – but so far it was hard to track in most places – the otter was just so far already that the first bit of extra weight was a drop in the bucket.

It didn’t stay that way. The numbers moved a little more – most of the donations were small, but they also came in regularly enough. A few seconds between them, no more – and each one a little twinge in Joseph’s nervous system. A terrified thrill that danced through his over-sensitized rump and his under-attended manhood. Each one of those in turn facilitated someone else in the PEEP show donating again. Slowly, steadily, Joseph started to feel his belly creeping further down his thighs – and his knees. He also felt a pressure on his ankles, which had to do with the tingly fizz of flesh growing into his buttocks, pushing him outward on the panel he was strapped down to. Another whimper escaped his throat, but it was anyone’s guess if it was genuine distress, or just wishing someone was giving him a happy ending to this little show.

Joseph felt something under his arms, which he dully came to realize was the flesh of his sides rising up to meet them as his abdomen swelled in more directions than just out and down. He knew that by now if he were to stop immediately he’d never have his arms at his sides again, the bloated, wobbling trunks of adipose would sit askew on his own swollen body. Somewhere lower down, he knew his legs were undergoing the same fate – the pressure of his thighs pushing on each other was slowly spreading his feet a little wider apart as he greedily suckled on the feeding tube.

He saw the numbers reach a half-way point, and noticed a trend. The amount of money being paid in was increasing steadily, but the weight added to the projected total was slowing down – the card player in Joseph understood immediately. Keep them on a leash, keep them upping the ante – thank Chrome for small favors.

Yeah but you’re still looking at five hundred kilos by the time this thing stops.

That got the otter’s eyes open wider – he was listening! Good. Joseph took a moment to breathe, wishing he could scratch the odd itch on the back of his hand right about then, and tried to order his thoughts into a solid question or two – which Red was evidently a step ahead on.

No, there’s no real way out of this, not without causing much more trouble than we solve. Seriously.

Joseph found himself struggling with that notion, looking around the room frantically – wishing he could see the virtual fox’s face somewhere – but all there were to look at were jeering miscreants. No small number of which had vacant smiles on their faces and were drooling a little. The otter felt his belly begin to spill into the crevice where his legs finally parted, which meant it was now dangling somewhere past his knees, and was still able to track every slowly creeping inch of his ass broadening across the platform he remained stuck to. An attempt to turn his head and see if there was something on the back of his hand causing that itch left him keenly aware of just how much blubber was swaddling his neck now as well, which is to say he didn’t really have one anymore so much as a pillowy donut that had grown in below and was threatening to eat his chin.

There was nothing on the back of his paw apart from fur and a bit of new padding – even his fingers were obese – but he did see a faint green light under his skin, and that prompted the loudest and clearest question of all.

-Captain. Why is the currency chip in my hand active?-

Because mom’s is out of range.

Ping. Joseph watched as a couple hundred credits rolled in via a single donation, driving his expected weight up over the seven hundred mark. He’d never asked just how heavy Agatha was, he hadn’t wanted to know, hadn’t been ready to face the fact that he might be destined for the same – and then he’d gone and walked head first into it happening sooner rather than later. And that cheeky little shite of a fox-

Joseph’s face screwed up in indignant anger, without a face to glare at – to the crowd he simply looked to be raging against his situation. Struggling, trying to heave his great, weighty body side to side as if it would help somehow. All it did was set his colossal pudding mound of a form slowly undulating on the platform for a good damn long while after the four or so seconds of thrashing it took to exhaust him.

That, and it drew in four more donations.

-Come on! The bleeding hell is wrong with your noggin ya light show?!-
Hey! We’ll get it all back if you go over anyway – and you just did – so this is free processing power and data storage!

Six more donations. Joseph knew he was probably beyond moving under his own power already at this point, but as he watched the numbers climb ever closer to the ton he had roughly guessed for Agatha’s weight he knew he was getting alarmingly closer to cresting the line between ‘suspension belt’ and ‘going to need cargo clearance’. He also knew the damned ball of ones and zeroes didn’t have the same perspective on this he did – this was win-win for Red and he’d be the size of a freighter by the time they had the debate it would take to explain himself to the fuzzy AI.

The view of himself was so very obscured, his own bloated moobs were right there below his puffy cheeks, and then of course the horizon of his gut blocking seeing anything below it. What he could still see just fine was how the spread of his torso to the sides was beginning to creep further up his arms, and how the flat panel he was resting on was getting a little less uncomfortable as he steadily became more and more of his own mattress. He knew what this was leading up to, the mouse’s arms were perpetually sticking upward – and everything below the elbow had been devoured by her own fat ass.

There were shouts in the crowd that drew Joseph’s attention back, people yelling something at the auction barker. Enough that it apparently got her attention at least.

“Now now! None of that, this one’s not for sale folks, sorry – didn’t owe that much. Don’t worry though, we’ve got something nice and exotic coming up next and she absolutely is for sale if you’re one of the three highest bidders at the end of the auction!”

Oh Chrome, Joseph thought – the fox looking thing from the dice game.

­-You’re right mate, this really could be worse.-

Yeah, I mean come on – you knew you’d end up this big someday. Might as well embrace it right? We’ll make enough spare to get you some plates, same as mom has, then glue them to your ass and float you around. You might like it!

Joseph tried not to feel annoyed at the buzzing in his hand going off once more, but he still ended up rolling his eyes a little. A loud squelching sound came from deep inside him, crawling out from his stomach to the spaces under his skin, but the aggravation it caused crumbled quickly under the deluge of sweet, fatty cream trying endlessly to fill him and never quite succeeding. At least not in filling his stomach.

He hadn’t expected the restraints to come off until things were done, so the wrist and ankle cuffs popping loose was a bit of a surprise to Joseph. The first instinct the otter had was sensible enough – he tried to heave himself upward and reach for the hose. There was most certainly upward movement when he did this, but Joseph found his arms constricted by something other than restraints – his own fleshy forearms sandwiched up against the phenomenal bulk of his chest, held back by their own staggering weight (like trying to lift them with ten liters of engine lubricant hanging off each one) – and the upward thrust came only from not being pinned down. Joseph’s ass wasn’t squished down under him anymore, and that left his back rising up a little as his body formed its own recliner of sorts.

It was a condition that wasn’t in any way done progressing apparently. Joseph whimpered around the muzzle bit more legitimately this time, struggling valiantly against gravity’s hold on his body. He tried to swing his arms up to his face once more, feeling them smoosh against his moobs and then fall back to his sides and bounce. Tried to swing to the side to roll away from the infernal tube and succeeded only in lessening the pressure on his left buttock briefly, leaving him with a belly rocking to and fro like a jello mold that had been slapped. All it really managed to succeed at doing was work free a pocket of gas, giving the PEEP show a brief window into what his Captain had done to the otter’s tail end.

Worry dispelling physical joy bloomed in him from the rump outward, and the donation tracker immediately shot up several dozen credits.

Joseph’s view of the room changed a little at a time, mostly as he felt the new weight entering his frame start to more visibly favor his lower body. The otter’s ass was flowing outward like molasses running downhill in summer, and rising like warm bread dough – the combination of which pushed up against his deepening folds of back fat and raised him to a slanted sitting position, the same one Agatha was going to be in for the rest of her life.

And he was for the rest of his. The ‘oh bloody hell’ was muffled around the hose just like anything else, lost in an endless opera of gulps and quick breaths, but everyone knew what that moment was. That realization that settled on Joseph’s brow far more securely than the shackles had bound him earlier. He tried to ignore the thought for a moment, tried to lift his arms again even as he felt the greasy crawling sensation of still more weight easing into them. They lifted a few inches, but had little to no articulation to speak of, and he was left breathing heavily after they fleshily slapped back down against his body.

“Oooh, folks we’re getting reports of some nerve modding done in our guest’s cute, not-so-little bum. For anyone who has stuck with us in the PEEP show so far I think we’ve got a treat in store for you!”

Joseph’s eyes shut in anticipation – he’d exhausted himself quite literally trying to take back control of this situation, what was left but to surrender a little? He felt the intrusion gently at first, something slick and hard probing between the massive beanbags his buttocks resembled – then as a thought obliterating rush that left the otter’s sprawled out frame wrapped in its blubbery padding gently rocking back and forth – ignorant of the insult-to-injury influx of more funding and watchers.

The otter lost track of everything else at that point – he knew it was going to go on a while, but it had become painfully clear worrying about it was utterly pointless. He wasn’t allowed any agency in this scenario. Thick, creamy damnation flooding his face and finally starting to give him a nice pleasant tightness around his stomach, some buzzing little bulb nestled between his ass cheeks causing quivers of delight to fire off at random through his body, and the cheers of people around him. It ended up surprising him when the hose finally pulled loose and roused him from the stupor he’d settled into. Joseph’s jaw worked sluggishly, stiffly, tongue trying to clean up his lips as best it could.

-It’s over?-

He couldn’t quite keep himself from feeling a shameful twinge of disappointment. Something about the limitless indulgence of it, the shameless display he was put on as it happened, had been thrilling in a way. The denials and struggles just made it more savory.

Afraid so – good news is the extra after your debt owed is enough to fit you with those maglev plates we need and still go clothes shopping like you wanted. Plus I got another few hundred kilos of processing mass out of it. Score, right?

Joseph snorted at that, but he was having a hard time finding a truly meaningful retort to offer up to the virtual captain of their little ship. Red was apparently sending messages and making purchases even as they sat there, as Joseph watched his vast sea of a belly laid out before him rising and falling on the breath of empowered lungs. He felt fine, health-wise. He just couldn’t move.

“Yer gonna need ta shanghai some new berk here if we’re gonna go back to having someone who can still move about proper ya know. I mean you get a lot done with those hover bots, but if both of em go on the fritz it isn’t precisely like your mum or I can do much about it now ya know?”

You are entirely right about that – and I have just the person in mind.

Joseph was curious about that point, but before he could really get a question formed he saw people approaching. A couple of slender women in silk, carrying curved metal panels that he recognized as the things that kept Agatha ‘mobile’ as it were. The panels could float freely over any metal surface, and could half-ass do so on any planet with a magnetic field. Each girl – he counted six so far – was taking up a place somewhere around him. Two vanished beyond his peripheral vision, two more were at his ‘sides’ as it were, and the final pair were kneeling down by the bulbous, churning lump of belly that was pressing his legs apart and jutting out ahead of the otter.

Then it hurt. Each of the girls slid their plate underneath part of him, the heaviest parts of his gut – his legs – and as deep under the curvature of his ass as they could – and the plates promptly began to burn like lemon juice in an open wound. Joseph winced visibly and instinctively squirmed, which really didn’t do a whole lot other than cause him to wobble – something that drew giggles and a couple fond pats on the behind from the girls. It subsided quickly enough though, and then he felt rather paradoxically light in spite of himself. The otter’s point of view began climbing, rising by steady inches, a little pressure on each of the six plates below him but the spread the load quite neatly all things told. Joseph found himself compelled to say something at least at that point.

“Err.. thanks luvs. How do I ah, how do I steer these things?”

Joseph watched in idle fascination as a bright orange dot appeared on the swell of his chest.

~You don’t actually, that’s on me.~

More giggling. But the girls were already sauntering out, the sight of which left Joseph blushing a bit more than he already was – but Red was already directing his slow hovering bulk toward the nearest double doors. Joseph found himself remembering being pushed round in a shopping trolley by his mother, decades ago, feeling curiously small for the grand expanse of flesh and fur that he really was. The crowd outside paid just a bit more attention to him this time, mostly by way of several people shooting him grins, winks, hoots – even a little applause filtered in from some corners. The otter had no way to know just how many of them had contributed to, or at least ridden on the back of, his descent into helpless immobility and being even further at the mercy of his artificial fox Captain, Red. All he knew was it was definitely more than zero. Joseph let out a slow sigh.

“Bloody pirates. Look, can we go get me something’ ta cover this great, quaking set of buttocks I’ve gone and gotten saddled with now? Like I wanted ta begin with? And would’ve done if you’d not been lazy with the blasted credit chip unlocking?”

His body responded before Red did, starting to drift in a particular direction. Joseph was hardly paying attention to where at that point. Why did it matter? He wasn’t in charge of where he went now, which he’d kind of brought on himself – but, well – how bad was this? He still wasn’t dead, still had a relatively comfortable life to look forward to – right? How much did it matter if he couldn’t exactly touch his toes anymore? Joseph was brought out of it by a slightly crude rendition of Red’s avatar glowing through his fur, grinning up at him a little.

~We’re here. I hope you don’t mind if I put in some input on what to get too? You are dressing for both of us after all, and we want to look our best for what I have planned.~

Joseph blinked down, and then looked up – looming over him was the same damn tailor’s shop he’d gone into to start all this mess.

“Well that’s bloody appropriate. Glad she didn’t waste her time getting my measurements last time I suppose? Alright, show us in mate – but nothing pink – got it?”

~Wouldn’t dream of it.~