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Grief groaned as he stirred from his sleep, aware of how early it was before he even opened his eyes. He immediately tried falling back asleep, going so far as to cover his head with his wing, but the growling in his stomach told him otherwise. With a grumble, he tried to ignore it and force himself back asleep, but his appetite wasn’t having any of it. “Fine!” Grief grumbled as he slowly unfurled his legs from beneath his soft middle, lazily drawing up to his full height. Once standing, Grief had to fight off the urge to collapse back into his nest (even if it was getting a little snug lately). The light shining into his cave was dim, telling him that it was hardly dawn, yet he knew his stomach wouldn’t wait much longer. Even with his cozy nest calling out for him, Grief slowly stumbled outside his cave, too tired to be aware of how the edges rubbed against his sides. While he was quite annoyed at the prospect of waking up early, the dragon couldn’t help but swish his tail excitedly as he strode towards the construction site, his stomach gurgling hungrily.It seemed Grief had made quite the impression on the construction workers, for when he came back the next day after frying the tractor, they had gathered another pile of food twice as big as the last. The pile was comprised mostly of raw meats and berries, much of which Grief disregarded or ignored; he was completely capable of catching his own prey, after all! Fortunately, the anthros somehow managed to figure out the cause of Grief’s annoyance, for on the next day their offering mainly consisted of the one thing the dragon couldn’t get enough of: pastries. “We, er, had to dig a bit into our budget in order to grab so many pastries for ya, Mr. Dragon. Luckily our insurance covered the tractor you destroyed, so hopefully we’ll be able to afford our rent to you for the next few months or so!” The chubby weasel told Grief on the third day, although the drake was too preoccupied to notice. Instead, his focus was devoted solely to the delicious, heavenly, scrumptious baked goods before him. Without thinking to check for poisons or sedatives, the dragon plunged his muzzle into the large food pile and began to wolf down the treats. He was vaguely aware of some of the workers staring at him as he glutted, his eyes flickering towards them from time to time, but he mostly paid them no heed. If there weren’t enough pastries to satisfy him, he could always move onto the anthros. However, much to the relief of everyone watching, Grief began slowing down his ravenous rate of consumption halfway through the food pile. Soon, the dragon was merely nibbling on the pastries until he finally reared his neck back and burped softly, his muzzle stained purple. “That was… adequate,” Grief muttered to the chubby weasel, feeling rather blissful after eating so many delicious pastries despite knowing the anthros had been staring at him the entire time. With no further words, the dragon scooped up the rest of the food with his wings and walked off, carrying the treats over his back. From that day forward, Grief made sure to regularly visit the construction camp to receive his daily ‘rent,’ as the workers put it. While it was somewhat painful to watch as dozens and dozens of trees were cut down a day, slowly being replaced with the foundations of what would later be houses, he still had the pastries to look forward to. However, as the new village was slowly being developed, many anthros noticed that their dragon landlord was sporting a few developments of his own.Grief panted softly as he walked through the forest, his belly swaying softly with every step he took. It had been two months since the dragon first discovered the construction camp, and in that short amount of time he managed to put on quite a bit of weight. The piles of high-calorie sweets he gorged on every morning in addition to his sedentary lifestyle caused Grief to more closely resemble an overfed cow than a sleek predator. What was once a flat abdomen was now a rounded gut, the edge of which sagged towards his knees and rippled with the slightest movements. Similarly, his limbs had acquired a bit of additional weight as well, which now resembled four squishy cylinders holding up one larger, squishier cylinder. Even his angular, beak-like muzzle was looking significantly less menacing due to his soft second chin and wide cheeks. If it weren’t for the permanent scowl, he would have looked downright cuddly!“Hrrrf,” Grief grunted as he hauled himself over a fallen oak tree, the edge of his stomach brushing against it. To think, merely a month ago the drake could have cleared that obstacle with a single leap. Now, he had to resort to awkwardly swinging one chunky leg at a time over the tree, his knees digging into his belly. “If only it weren’t so damn humid,” the dragon muttered in between pants, his gut heaving in and out. He always had trouble flying when there was too much moisture in the air; it made him feel so heavy…Just then, Grief heard a scraping sound at a distance, the sound growing louder as it approached. With fight-or-flight instincts kicking in, the dragon growled at the source of the noise and arched his back, attempting to look as large and foreboding as possible (which was relatively easy, given his size). “Show yourself!” he called out, narrowing his eyes. Soon enough, someone finally appeared from within the foliage, although it was the last thing Grief expected. Standing before him was a portly canine, one who was somewhat larger compared to the other anthros. It was difficult for Grief to gauge what species the canine was, for his ears were pointy like a wolves, however his black and white fur pattern and curled tail more closely resembled a domesticated dog. The dragon didn’t spend too much time thinking about it, however, as that was not what surprised him. The dog was dragging along a container twice the size of an outdoor kiddy pool, piled high with all kinds of pastries. Grief gulped back a wave of saliva as he focused on the canine, hoping the anthro wouldn’t notice his nose twitching. “You there, identify yourself at once!” The dragon glowered in a commanding tone.Unfortunately, his attempt at intimidation didn’t quite pan out, for instead of shaking and quivering before him, the dog simply looked up at the dragon with a kind smile. “Oho, you really are a big one, arentcha?” He exclaimed, his eyes flickering towards Grief’s middle. Grief ignored that comment, although he made an effort to try and suck in his stomach before responding. “I’ve made it quite clear to your anthro friends that no one is to step foot into my forest without my permission. Explain to me at once what you plan on doing here with your… cargo.”Much to Grief’s annoyance, the dog chuckled as if he were being threatened by a small child with a toy sword. “Now, now, no need to get testy. The boys back at the camp got a bit, er, distracted every time you came your rent, y’know, being the big and intimidating drake that you are. We’re a bit behind schedule because of it, so I volunteered to bring you your food myself. Granted, I wish I borrowed a tractor or somethin’, this is a lot of food!” The dog chuckled again, rubbing his muscular arms sorely.“I can see that,” Grief snorted, now looking back at the food pile hungrily. Honestly, it wouldn’t have mattered if the dog had told him he was out to feed the birds; the dragon would have taken the pastries for himself anyways. Casting a furtive glance at the canine, Grief stepped around the dog and lowered his head into the pastries.Soon, all of his worries immediately evaporated as he started gobbling up massive mawfuls of food at a time, his tail swishing idly behind him. It didn’t matter how much or how often the dragon had a chance to eat his favorite food; it was almost never enough. He didn’t even mind that there was a dent in the food pile, as if someone had scooped out a large portion for himself (now that he thought about it, the dog’s muzzle did look a little purple-ish), just as long as no one interrupted him from his feast, he was set for life. In between his usual noisy smacking and swallowing, Grief heard occasionally heard the dog trying to make idle conversation with him. “My name’s Shiro, by the way. Shrio Takeshi. Would you happen to have a name, by the way? Or do you prefer Mr. Dragon, as our boss keeps referring to you has.”“Call me Grief,” he snorted, his voice slightly distorted by the pastries inhabiting his cheeks.“Oooh, intense name. Who named you that?” Shiro asked, his bright green eyes widening. When he received no answer, the dog sat across from Grief and observed quietly as the mound of food slowly diminished before him. “Say, I can’t help but notice you look a bit uncomfortable standing up while eating. I don’t mean to –uh, you got a bit of jelly on your cheek. No the other one. There ya go- Anyways, if you want, you can always lay down and I can feed you your food my-“Grief growled. “If you so much as breathe on my food I will personally dismember you in a manner so painful you will go deaf by your own screaming.”“Weeeeeeeell let’s just forget I said that then.” Shrio folded his ears, his smile wiped clean off his muzzle.With a satisfied grunt, Grief returned to his feast, albeit at a slower rate. As far as his meals went, this one was much larger than usual, even for a dragon’s standards. He felt his stomach fill steadily with pastries, his gut rounding out just a bit more. With one last hearty swallow, Grief sighed and pulled his head out, nodding softly. “I must admit, I actually prefer your services,” the dragon said, and Shiro perked up. “It allows me to enjoy my meal without having to walk across the forest and see the damage you anthros are doing to my home. I expect a similarly sized tribute to be delivered here tomorrow at this time.” With that said, he turned around to leave.“You mean you’re not going to finish it?”Grief snorted and turned around, staring at the confused dog. “Why would I? I’m perfectly sated as is.” Truth be told, he was feeling somewhat bloated, and judging by how his belly continued rippling even after he stopped moving, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to cut back just a bit. “O-oh, I see,” Shiro mumbled, looking rather crestfallen. “It’s just, we put a lot of effort into making your pastries-““Don’t care”“Right, right. Well, I expected someone as big and powerful as you would have an equally ferocious appetite, ya know? It’s not often us anthros get to see something as graceful as a dragon devouring its prey. But if that really is your limit, I completely understand…”What really infuriated Grief was just how bad of a liar Shiro was, the dog’s ears turning a bright pink. Nevertheless, he felt compelled to show off just how much better feral creatures were than anthros. With an indignant snort, the dragon laid himself before the remaining feast and plunged his muzzle within, eating with even less restraint than before.From the corner of his vision, he could see Shiro perking up excitedly, although that was the last of his concerns. The dragon felt himself bloating out further and further, his taunt belly spreading across the grass as he ate. His muzzle was covered in jelly and crumbs, some of which made it onto his wobbling second chin. With every swallow, the dragon grew heavier and fuller, his stomach splayed out on either side of him. He was eating more in one sitting than he normally ate in three days (at least prior to encountering the anthros) yet he felt compelled to surmount this challenge, if nothing else than to humor the dog who was wagging and hopping around happily. At last, with one last gulp, Grief managed to finish off the entire pile. Panting with exertion, the spherical drake felt himself literally rolling onto his side against his will, his bloated grey gut bulging out before him like a hill of its own. It was humiliating, revealing his (rather large) weakspot at another being, but that paled in comparison to how absolutely full he felt, his legs weakly clawing at his gut.“I-I can help…” Shiro murmured as if in a trance, his eyes locked onto the bulbous belly.Grief growled again. “And why should I let a filthy anthro like *hic* yourself touch me?”“B-because it’s my job to help you… you know,” the dog said, staring longingly at Grief’s enlargened middle yet standing still.Grief considered the situation for a moment, his claw lightly rubbing along his chest before finally sighing. “Very well, but only after you’ve properly bathed yourself. Fortunately I know a good river nearby.” ................
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