Spyro, the World's Fattest Dragon

         Spyro grinned widely to himself as he lay on his back. The lush green grass of the artisan world was enough to keep the purple dragon at peace, more-so that he had defeated Gnorc and returned the elder dragons back to their home-worlds. Spyro lifted a hand towards his belly patting it; it gurgled with satisfaction. The dragons weren't a materialistic species, but as thanks many of the artisanal dragons, along with those from other worlds, would present spyro with all sorts of gifts. The little purple hero had to admit, the artisans knew how to bake. He grinned, rubbing his yellow tummy, feeling the slight bulge of the binge he had earlier on a gift-box of tarts. He could relax now, there weren't any adversaries around.

         Just as he was falling into a slumber, he heard the heavy footsteps of one of the elders he'd saved approaching him. Opening an eye, Spyro gave an approachable grin.

         "Hey Spyro! Thought I'd stop by with some gifts, you really pulled your weight and saved us!"

         This was at least the 10th time he'd heard something along those lines. Spyro didn't consider himself vain but all this reciprocation and pampering felt flattering. He got up and looked excitedly at the couple of boxes the elder held above him.

         As the dragon left, Spyro nuzzled the boxes open to reveal what appeared to be a selection of full-sized cheesecakes, a deluge of chocolate muffins and what appeared to be a cake the size of himself laden with frosting that read "Thank you for releasing us!". Spyro smirked. This was far more than any of the elder dragons would have in one sitting, let alone himself.

         He happily munched on one of the muffins, rolling his eyes with pleasure. It tasted incredible! Of course, that's what millennia of perfecting an art will do to your baking skills. Before he knew it, he'd finished the whole thing. Spyro's tummy gurgled with satisfaction, and just as he was about to sleep, he found himself reaching for another.

         He couldn't help it. He was under the impression that he earned this. He's saved his and several others' world after all! Scooping the second muffin towards his maw, he eagerly took larger chomps, accompanying them with "Mmms" and tail-flicks. He was truly addicted not just to the cakes themselves, but to the notion of being pampered in such a way. Maybe he was being impressionable, but he didn't care as the second muffin disappeared into his belly.

         Looking around the hill which he slept on, he kept an eye out for any of the other dragons, before going for a third, then a fourth... then a fifth...

         If he was going to treat himself, he was going to do it right. Left in privacy with him and his own greed, he decided he was going to eat like a king. No-one else was watching, he wouldn't have to explain himself to anyone. So Spyro ate and ate and ate, dipping his head into the large box of muffins and allowing whatever fell into his maw to be gulped down. He stood in front of the box, tail occasionally waving back and forth as he continued to stuff himself.

         As with any dragon, greed takes its toll in many ways. For Spyro, it did it that much quicker. While it wasn't entirely visible to him with his pre-occupied head deep in the box, things became much more apparent with his body. While he fed, his belly distended with passing time. All Spyro felt was bliss as he continued to eat himself into a heavier state. The dragon by now was getting chubby (a small representation of how active he had been since his adventures). While previously the yellow bulk of his belly curved inwards to keep his body agile and streamlined, this certainly wasn't the case now. Instead, it had become bloated with spyro's gluttony, rounding out around his flanks and getting closer to the grass he stood on. It gurgled loudly as the greedy dragon continued to stuff himself, gradually getting larger and larger as Spyro finished the muffins and instantly dived his maw into the cheesecake.

         By now the purple dragon's gut resembled a yellow barrel as it bulged outwards on his sides and flanks, eventually reaching the ground as the grass teased the underside of the dragon's growing gut. Still, Spyro ate and ate, his arms thickening as his hindquarters started to blimp. Being quadrepedal was starting to get hard now as he grew more and more obese, finishing off the cheesecake with a huge gulp, a couple of excited pants, and an instant head-dive into the massive cake. Once again, Spyro's weight started to rise.

         Spyro's rump at this point had bulged outwards; two orbs of purple, wobbling mass as he continued to pile on more flab. Each cheek had reached the size of one of the gnorc enemies he'd so frequently slain, and showed no signs of stopping in growth. He'd never eaten so much, and never gotten so big. It clearly wasn't enough as he continued to binge faster and grow fatter at a concerning rate. Things got trickier when he found his curves would bounce off of each other, preventing the heavily overweight dragon from reaching past himself. Of course, that didn't stop him from tipping the box towards himself and greedily gulping down anything his needy muzzle could reach.

         His belly had ballooned outwards in all directions; outwards from his sides, between his front and hind legs, expanding across the grass as he had truly let himself blimp up with more and more dragon flab. He had increased his weight by at least 8 times it previously was, and had sent himself into a gluttony-fueled rampage as he ate and ate and ate. As his enormous gut started to lift him off of the ground, he realized that perhaps he was getting too greedy, eventually finishing the entire cake, and struggling to move from his spot.

         Spyro sluggishly looked around himself. GOD he had gotten fat. So fat that there wasn't a single part of his body that he could move without part of him wobbling, or pressing in against himself. He rubbed and groped and patted his many curves, a blob of purple and yellow atop the hill, relishing in what he had done to himself. Leaning forwards, his entire mass moved, pressing his large yellow moobs against the ground and giving Spyro some traction with his front hands. In an attempt to maneuver himself around onto his back, he gripped hard into the grass and dragged to the side. With a lot of effort, gritting of teeth and loud grunts, he eventually gained momentum as his whole body slowly rolled, his enormous belly jiggling to the side and eventually rolling on top of the massive dragon, wobbling like a huge yellow dome. Spyro couldn't believe he ate those entire cakes right away, they easily could have lasted him several weeks, but he had to admit it, eating like this and spoiling himself was rather fun. Groping his gigantic waist by the sides to wobble his bloated gut, he smiled. His eyes lulled as he gently fell asleep, his glutted body providing a comfortable cushion with which to sleep as his insanely bloated rump and belly settled, and his huge, thick limbs rested. As the dragon snored, his belly gurgled so loudly it could be heard across the artisan fields.

         While he slept, a large group of 20 or so elder dragons carefully gathered around to discuss their bloated hero and what he'd apparently done to himself. The silence was broken by a sheepish whisper, coming from the dragon who'd gifted spyro those cakes.

         "I hadn't expected Spyro to eat them all in one go, that was to keep him for months!"
         "Well I mean, he has earned it, I guess this is how he celebrates."
         "He's a hero! I say screw it! Let him eat! Bahahahaha!"
         "Hmm, you know we've never had a volunteer for taste testing before on account of looking          after weight, I think we may have one..."
         "Yes! He'll wake up to a feast of a thousand dragons!"

         Spyro felt bloated as he slept, but dreamed of more. Of course, he wouldn't expect that exactly that was just about to happen.

         The obese dragon slept through most of the day, his rolls wobbling as he snored loudly. It wasn't until the evening when the lazy, fat blob woke up. Slowly coming to, Spyro shuddered his head, feeling his warm, soft chins and neck rolls doing the same. Clearly he'd let gluttony control his actions, patting that same huge gut of his. Unexpectedly, he then noticed he was surrounded with boxes!

         Reaching above his head, he pulled a small note carefully marked with calligraphy. The artisans.

         "Greetings! It appears you've been rather fond of delicacies in recent days, as it shows on your portly figure!"
         
         Spyro blushed. Looks like they'd found out.

         "Safe to say we thought we'd use this as an occasion to try our skills. Perhaps you could take a retirement for adventuring and be our resident taste-tester for the year! It'd add to your weight-problem, but just leave that for the magic-crafters, I'm sure they'd make light work returning you to normal after gaining such beastly amounts of bulk! Eat up Spyro, we're all counting on you!"

         "Taste tester, huh?" Spyro said to himself, briefly burying his muzzle in between his huge moobs. "Looks like they've found the right dragon..."

         The first box Spyro grabbed was just beside his shoulder. A box spanning his wing length that seemed full to the brim of fudge. This would've been more than enough to fill at least 50 of his elder dragon brethren, but Spyro merely thought about the idea of just how large he might get. It seemed as if the others were encouraging him to eat so much, and grow even fatter! Literally, they were enabling him to grow immense. The familiar smell of irresistible, thousand-year trained baking flooded his nostrils as that addiction inside him came to the forefront again. Spyro recklessly tipped the box over into his maw, and started gulping whatever landed inside.

         From a distance, some of the elders watched for his reaction. Of course, they wanted to gauge Spyro's reactions to their particular creations. While they were enthusiastic, the endeavor was going to prove entirely worthless with Spyro ready to eat anything and everything. Never-the-less, hushed, excited discussions were had in reaction to the fatty dragon's increasing moans of pleasure at the various tastes assaulting his maw. The dragon was glutting himself so rapidly that his body was visibly fattening now, his belly starting to rise upwards, 7 feet... 8 feet above him. It seemed as if he was only getting hungrier for more too as he tore apart another box and stuffed himself with the contents, barely caring what was inside, only knowing that it consisted of more food.

         Spyro was barely recognizable from his former self now, constantly stuffing himself, allowing his weight to skyrocket past an entire ton as the other dragons looked on and enabled him, watching the rising mass of purple and yellow continue to blimp fatter and fatter, eager to hear more of Spyro's satisfied food-groans. He just couldn't stop eating, and no-one was going to stop him from doing so.

         Spyro's rump was now rivaling the size of many of the elder dragons entirely. One of them standing next to the dragon's tremendous rear would have to look up to see Spyro's hind legs wobbling above while he binged. Beyond that, Spyro's belly was getting out of control, roll after roll forming on him as he ate himself into more and more ridiculous proportions. He was easily too fat to fit inside one of the portal gates or tunnels now, his belly would make sure of that. In fact, if he were to roll to his side he'd quite easily crush some of the hedge-maze beside him with that titanic belly. Still he continued to eat. Still he hungered for more as his gut let out a monstrous growl. Spyro was gigantically fat, and his weight gain was starting to become uncontrollable. Still, this didn't stop the elder dragons who wanted to keep him eating more.

         "Wait, that noise he just made was for my pavlova, right?"
         "No no no, he was trying my buns!"
         "Fools! It was my cookies! Watch!"

         One of the elder dragons lifted a hand towards Spyro's face from the distance, as suddenly a box lifted itself and hovered over Spyro's face. The purple dragon, surrounded by soft, pudgy neck rolls, could only look on in confusion as the box slowly tipped itself over and fed its contents to the colossal fatty. Even if he wanted to resist, Spyro would likely be unable to being the size of a cottage, and not being able to reach past his gargantuan belly. The gooey consistency with the oh-so-sweet taste of the cookies caused Spyro to grunt excitedly with satisfaction and a greed for more.

         "See? Those were my ones!"
         "No that was different. Let him try the pavlova again!"

         The dragon lifted his hand, before another did so beside him.
         
         "Wait, he hasn't tried mine yet!"
         "Put your hand down, fool, wait your turn!"
         "No YOU wait, you've been feeding him for the whole hour!"
         
         Spyro could hear the arguing going on in the background and turned his head to look (or at least tried to, it's fairly difficult to do when you weigh a few tons). That was before his head was forced back by a barrage of boxes pushing themselves towards Spyro's face! He barely had time to react before one of the boxes shoved their contents into his maw, followed by another, then another, barely giving the dragon time to breathe. He barely even knew what he was being fed now, only that it tasted sweet, indulgent, and incredible. He closed his eyes and allowed the boxes to fight with each other over which was feeding Spyro next as he blimped and blimped. Hundreds of them soared around Spyro's belly as it very quickly became the largest landscape on the Artisan fields.

         As the elders watching couldn't get over their argument, Spyro's body expanded at a worrying pace as he continued to swell with bulk. His rump rose higher and outwards as it effortlessly flattened the hedge-maze one barrier at a time, and crushed the portal underneath. His belly bulged massively, yard by yard, second by second as he continued to let himself be stuffed with millions and millions of calories. The ground rumbled as his expanse only continued to take over more of it, his huge, soft self blocking the entrances to some of the tunnels, his flab bulging against and through the entrances as they cracked. Fountains and hills were decimated within half a minute as Spyro very quickly realized he was going to consume every single confectionery within this world if they dragons didn't stop. He was becoming mountainous, unable to do anything about it, and glutted beyond all belief. Still, he continued to eat, groaning at every ton he packed on as the hills and walls quaked with the arrival of his oncoming abundance of bulk.

         Spyro let loose a titanic belch as suddenly everything stopped. The empty boxes dropped onto either Spyro's endless appendage, or the very minimal grass that wasn't covered by his many tons. The dragons simply looked on in shock at what they had done to Spyro. No wonder too, Spyro was likely the fattest being any of the dragon worlds had ever seen.

         He had grown so incredibly obese that his body had filled the foremost field of the Artisan world. The landmass he had flattened with his bulk easily exceeded an Olympic pitch as his unstoppable gut gurgled powerfully enough to shudder the land the elders stood upon. Walls cracked, unable to resist the expansion of Spyro's cliff-sized rear, which had blimped to the point where it resembled a soft, purple fortress wall rather than the ass of a dragon who got too greedy for his own good. Some of the elders took flight above Spyro to see what the damage was around him. Thankfully none of the dragons were flattened, though he'd eaten himself so gigantic and soft that such an experience might have been pleasurable. Considering Spyro now weighed several thousands of tons, perhaps not, as he felt his colossal moobs jiggle with any head movement he made. It'd be a while before he lost any of this weight.

         Some of the dragons flew against one of Spyro's chins like a landing strip, as they sunk up to the thighs in his flab. They approached Spyro's face apologetically, one scratching the back of his head.

         "Spyro! I uh... we're all sorry. It may take those magic crafters quite a while to find a spell that will deal with something of this... expanse..."

         Spyro wasn't even mad. He let out another belch and grinned lazily, cheeks massive and bloated.

         "You can make it up to me... fetch me some sheep. I'm still hungry..." he said in his cocky demeanor. It's a lot easier to be confident when you're the size of an island.