Ten Times the King

It was a sad day in the Pride Lands with the loss of both Mufasa and Simba. The lionesses came together with the widowed queen Sarabi, mourning over the loss of her husband and son. A deep gloom presided over the rock, infecting all of the once mighty pride; all except Scar, who couldn’t have been more elated at his plan coming to fruition. Ages of plotting and scheming had all led up to his moment of triumph, securing his place as king, along with all the privileges it held.

The new king traversed around the borders of his domain, getting a feel of everything now in his possession. The hyenas happily made themselves at home per their agreement, swarming the plains to the point of rivaling the wildebeests’ numbers. His new subjects were happy, the herds were complacent, and he made sure to keep the lionesses busy so as not to dwell on past tragedies. Overall, his first week as king had been a good one, and for that, he felt he deserved a delectable reward.

Scar had left his cave for a greater part of the afternoon, allowing the lionesses time to bring him his dinner. He moved with a spring in his step, licking his chops in anticipation of seeing exactly what he had ordered them to bring. They looked at him with bewilderment, waiting for him to reveal his demands as some type of poor jest. But to their dismay, he was serious. Sarabi scowled her face, disgusted that any king would make such a ridiculously selfish request.

Freshly hunted meat perfumed the interior of Pride Rock’s cave, seeping its way toward the cave entrance. The tapping of Scar’s claws reverberated off the stone walls the deeper he entered. Stopping before his favorite lounging rock, his eyes bulged with amazement, marveling at the collection of meat gathered in separate piles before him.

Beside his rock was a mound of guinea fowl, ostrich, flamingo, and stork drumsticks; a delicious appetizer to start his bountiful feast. Across from the mound was a pile of juicy zebra and antelope haunches, and beside it, an even larger pile of haunches from water buffalo. To finish off his feast were two mounds of rhino and elephant steaks, thickly cut and around the size of his own gaunt torso. The assortment of meat could feed the entire pride for many months, causing Scar to salivate at the thought of finishing it all in one sitting.

“It’s perfect,” Scar licked the drool from his lips, “everything I ever wanted. And this time, no Mufasa to tease and ruin my joy. Today, my dream becomes a reality.”

Scar leapt onto his lounging rock, purring with comfort and stretching his thin frame. Picking up his first guinea fowl drumstick, he held it by the end between his digits, stuffing it in his mouth and pulling out the bone clean of any lingering strands of meat. He savored the delectable bird, tossing the bone onto the floor before swallowing and picking up another drumstick. Fervent grumbling erupted from his thin stomach, pleased by what would have made up his daily meal, only to have far more yet to glut. He brushed his paw across his midsection, grinning at what would be its end result once he finished his feast.

For years, Scar had dreamt of enjoying the high life, gorging himself on as much of the Pride Land animals as he pleased. Becoming as large as a hippo and lugging around all that delectable heft, left him in a blissful state of mind, yearning for the day it would eventually come true. But Mufasa would often tease him for sneaking extra scraps of meat, joking about the type of blimp he would turn into with his habits. So he hid his innermost gluttonous desires from the rest of the pride, plotting out the day he’d finally be rid of his brother and be free to live out his dream.

Now that the day had arrived, he fervently shoved more drumsticks in his mouth, holding a bone in each digit of his paw. Finishing off the guinea fowl, he moved onto the much larger ostrich leg. He munched on it from left to right, polishing off the meat from it. The tall-mighty bird significantly filled his gut, causing it to distend outward. With each new leg of meat he devoured, his once gaunt body appeared to rejuvenate with added flesh.

As Scar ate further, he fell deeper into a state of gluttonous bliss. A mass pile of bird bones collected beside him, gradually reaching up to his head before eventually towering over him. Filled with an excessive amount of bird meat, his stomach had grown significantly rotund. No longer the gaunt lion who’d pick at the tattered remains of prey like a scavenger, Scar gleefully sighed at how it felt to experience the lion’s share of a feast for once. Polishing off the last of the flamingo wings, he placed a hefty paw to his gut, feeling the added weight of his fuller limbs squish against his round pudge.

“*Ooourrp*, magnificent,” Scar sighed, pressing his digits onto his belly as he rubbed. “Not even killing Mufasa has made me this happy. *Urp*, oh how splendid, I feel like a new lion.”

Rolling off his resting place, the swollen king groaned as the copious amount of meat roiled in his stomach. It sagged below his haunches, weighing on his back as if an antelope calf sat in his gut. It was surreal feeling it rub against his thicker haunches, glorping with the slightest raising of his hind legs. Even his paws felt more grounded to the cold floor, his body no longer as light as he was used to.

Scar chuckled with sinister glee, proud of the amount of birds it took to grow him such a physique. As selfish and an affront as it was to the circle of life, as king, he deserved to eat far more than his fill. His belly concurred as its growls echoed within the den, directing his attention to the rest of his awaiting feast. The zebra, antelope, and buffalo haunches beckoned; their individual piles stretching twice his bloated waistline, and a head taller than him.

He plodded along like a fat warthog toward his next feast, tongue hanging out of his mouth and dripping drool. For all the joy he felt becoming swollen from all the drumsticks, he could hardly fathom the elephantine countenance he’d gain after this next meal. His stomach rested between his haunches as he sat in front of the zebra mound, plopping onto the floor in front of him. Giving it a hearty squeeze, he let loose a gaseous belch before picking up his first zebra leg.

With the fervor of a hungry hyena, Scar tore off massive chunks of meat from the leg. Quickly, his cheeks were filled to the brim; the large chunks of meat wedged his mouth open to the point his fangs no longer touched. Pushing the meat toward the back of his throat with a paw, his eyes opened wide in ecstasy at the mass of food occupying his throat. The bulge of meat was the size of his head, slowly slithering down his gullet with each labored gulp. His paw patted it down, dropping the load into his swollen gut with a mighty squelch.

Scar huffed at how filling a single zebra leg felt in his gut, sloshing through the mass of bird meat. Leg after leg, his waistline continued to swell with added girth. Sizeable love handles began to form seated atop of a pair of widening hips. His back plumped outward with developing rolls squishing together whenever he leaned forward. Doing so grew increasingly difficult the larger his belly grew, stretching out in front and blorping with each gulp of meat.

After finishing half the pile, his gut grew so large he couldn’t reach for the leg, forcing him to stand up. His stomach erupted in a cacophony of soupy sloshes; the greedy king toothily grinned, murmuring with pleasure at having grown so stuffed. He continued polishing off the rest of the leg pile, picking each clean of meat and skin until nothing but the white of each bone remained.

Tossing the final zebra bone onto the pile, the mound rattled as Scar lazily collapsed his upper body atop of it, hugging it with his broad upper legs. The lion moaned with gleeful satisfaction, his belly fallen flat to the floor and stretched to twice its previous size. Its rich churning caused him to let loose a bellowing belch; the hedonistic pleasure he gained from his grotesque fullness felt greater than he ever imagined.

“*Bwooorp*, oh my. I’m positively, *uuuurp*, stuffed. I never thought my stomach, *orp*, was capable of such gluttony.” Belly glorping as he lugged his way toward the antelope legs, its gurgling enticed him to glut further, despite feeling full beyond what was reasonable for a male lion. “Now, *uurp*, the feast truly begins.”

Lying down in front of the antelope legs, Scar devoured them one by one, same as the zebra. He pleasantly grunted with each mound of meat he wolfed down, feeling them stretch his gut beyond its capacity. This new sensation of continuing to gorge himself beyond his fill delighted him, thinking of all the food he greedily shoved down his gullet and how what he had eaten thus far could have fed the entire pride for the whole day. He was determined to glut like a king, and in time, he’ll have the body to reflect his regal status.

Scar picked up his pace, tearing off chunks of meat from two legs at a time, holding them in a paw each. As his body widened, his haunches lazily sprawled across the floor, thickening with his waistline. The rolls on his back grew larger and more defined, squishing against his hunching shoulders. His forelegs grew as meaty as the antelope legs he ate, and his face plumped with added fat, able to hold more food between his cheeks.

After finishing the antelope legs, he dazedly looked at the water buffalo legs across from him. He lazily remained flat on the floor, not bothering to stand upright to waddle toward his next meal at such a short distance. He rotated his body along the ground before dragging himself toward the food pile. Moaning with ecstasy, his overgorged stomach sloshed and squelched, feeling the pressure of his haughty thighs dig into it as he pushed against it. He reveled in the hefty mass he had attained, clawing at the rock floor just to pull himself forward.

Reaching the food pile, he slumped himself on top of it, contemplating through a haze of pleasure and drunken glee whether or not he was capable of finishing it all. He spent little time hesitating, stuffing the first burly haunch completely into his mouth and cleanly pulling out the bone. Belching and moaning, he was once more lost in gluttonous bliss. Two at a time he’d stuff the legs into his mouth, effortlessly peeling off the meat till his mouth was incapable of closing. With reckless abandon he’d force himself to swallow, eyes shut in pain just to get it down his throat. Immediately, he’d eat another two, intoxicated by the joy of overeating, giving himself little time to rest in between mouthfuls.

With the buffalo legs being much larger than either the antelope and zebra’s, Scar’s swollen form ballooned exponentially with each gulp. His once boney rear had fattened up as wide as a rhino. His body thrived with ample blubber, rounding him out fatter than any hippo on the savannah. Polishing off the last of the haunches, he licked at his teeth and claws for any lingering flavors. Arching his back and balancing on his hind legs, he jutted his massive belly outward, moaning with bliss as it poured onto the floor.

“*Hilp*, *huff*, how delectable.” Scar woozily slumped onto his gut, the sizable roll of neck fat under his mane squished against his rounded cheeks. “Truly, *hilp*, a feast fit, *oouurp*, for a king. And the shape to match it.”

Pushing off his belly, the overgorged king smiled upon inspecting his explosion of added curvature. His paws trailed from his chest down to his bulging waist; his tubby digits unable to fully grope the entire love handle. The fat of his prey added a bulky layer of blubber throughout his torso and hips. He murmured with delight, caressing its supple softness where he could reach. The pressure of his paws caused the food in his gut to blorp as it shifted around, giving a most pleasant inner massage. He gave his waist a wobble, feeling everything from his thick thighs, large rear, the rolls on his back, and his doughy arms squish and undulate in perfect harmony.

“*Mmmff*, such rapture, *hilp*. How is it that being this fat, *hilp*, feels this good? *Huff*, I want more. Need, *hic-hilp*, more…”

Scar looked to the final mound of rhino and elephant steaks, his mouth watering as he murmured. His burbling belly blorped as it diligently digested his current churning gorge, dumbfounded at the idea of being further packed with food. Pleasurable moaning and sloshing echoed throughout the cavern due to him leaning forward, rolling onto his belly just to reach the ground with his forepaws. Now at a crawling position, his massive gut lifted his hindlegs off the ground. Blubber pooling around his limbs, he dragged himself toward the steaks, gleefully excited at what the twin mounds would do for his blubbery countenance when done.

Both heaping mounds of steak towered a head taller than him and stretched half as wide as his waistline. The staggering amount of meat could have fed the entire pride for weeks, many of whom whispered over how wasteful it all was to hunt for more food than they needed. However, none imagined their new king was fully capable of finishing it all. Starting with the rhino steaks first, he popped the first hulking slab of meat in his mouth, grinning at how much space it took up. Gulping it down, he immediately fell back into his voracious rhythm, oblivious to the strain of continuing to fill his impossibly full stomach.

With much labored muffling, Scar wrapped his thick arms around the steak pile, pulling as much as he could into his mouth and swallowing when he could fit no more. He winced as it slithered down his gullet, bulging it outward as if swallowing an entire warthog. A thunderous squelch filled the cave once the meat entered his stomach, violently shoving against the rest of his indigested gorge. His waistline continued to stretch several inches, and the layer of lard coating his body grew vastly more abundant.

As he ate, Scar grew more gelatinous in nature by the second. Rivaling the size of even the largest of animals in the Pride Lands, the lard filled lion continued swelling with the utmost bliss. Every hiccup and belch caused his luscious form to ripple like a stone tossed in a still lake. His burbling stomach roared like a mighty predator, sloshing as each new mound of meat entering it swayed it to and fro like tall grass blowing in a breeze. His limbs rose high off the ground, resting atop of his blob of a belly and sinking deep into its flesh. Fortunately, with an outstretched claw, Scar managed to reach the last slab of elephant meat, completing his bountiful feast.

With nothing left to gorge, the full brunt of his fullness hit Scar like a charging rhino. His face squished between his bulging cheeks and multiple rolls of neck fat as he laid on his belly, grinning with triumph. His blubbery visage bobbed up and down due to his sloshing fat; the rolls on his back enveloped one another and occasionally folded over the back of his head. His hind paws were lost under his thighs, while his elephantine rear towered over him like a wobbling mountain. Full beyond his own comprehension, Scar basked in the ecstasy of his churning gut and feeling his blubber dance about.

“*Hic-hilp*, what a, *bwoooorp*, feast,” he gripped at his bulk, submerging his foreleg halfway into his own furry flesh. “This has been, *hic-hilp*, far better…than I imagined. *Oooh*, I could probably gorge like this, *hic-hilp*, every day.”

“No, you cannot.”

Scar slightly shifted his body toward the cave entrance, sneering back at the scowling gaze of Sarabi. “I’m the king, *hic-hilp*, I can do whatever I, *oooouurp*, want.”

Sarabi paced around the blob king, looking at the pile of bird and ungulate bones with revulsion. “The lionesses and I didn’t understand why you had us hunt so much prey, even after demanding it all for yourself, we thought it wasteful hunting so much for one lion. But I never imagined you’d actually manage to eat it all, and then I walk in to hear you talk about eating like this every day? Look at yourself, you’re larger than any beast in the Pride Lands. It’s grotesque how fat you are.”

“*Ooorp*, it’s a bit difficult, *hic-hilp*, to completely view myself. But this feeling, *mmff*, of being a massive pile of fur and fat, *oogh*, it’s so exquisite. You know, Sarabi, *hic-hilp*, as my queen, you’re entitled to all all you can gorge on as well. Why not join, *orp*, I believe you’ll quite enjoy being a massive matriarch.”

“Become like you? Such a disgusting thought. Look at you, your face looks like it's being swallowed by your body. Your paws are hardly noticeable from how fat your legs have gotten. You’re so burdened by lard you’ve grown completely misshapen, wobbling and pulsating with all that sickening noise from your stomach.”

“*Mmff*, oh Sarabi, *hic-hilp*, you’re such a tease.”

“What is wrong with you,” Sarabi recoiled in disgust, “is all this somehow pleasurable to you?”

“Yes, yes it, *hic-hilp*, is. If only you knew, *orp*, the joys of gorging yourself beyond eating your fill. The rapture of amassing all this weight, *hic-hilp*, kneading your soft-supple form, and feeling your gluttony roil inside you, like a slew of beasts are massaging you from the inside. Oh, it feels so rich Sarabi my queen, *hic-hilp*, so delectably rich.”

“I’ve heard enough of this. You’ll be the doom of the Pride Lands with all your gluttonous selfishness. Perhaps if you were half the king Mufasa was, there might have still been some hope in your rule.”

Scar raised a heavy foreleg, heartily smacking the side of his gut, causing his entire blob of a body to jiggle. “I believe I’m literally ten times the king Mufasa was. And in the coming days, *hic-hilp*, that number will only multiply.”

Grimacing at the sight of his wobbling belly, Sarabi quickly walked toward the entrance, leaving Scar to admire his abundant corpulence. Infatuated by his rippling fat, Scar managed to roll onto his back, moaning from his sloshing gorge shifting around. Lying flat and limbs sprawled out, he sloppily grinned feeling his massive gut roll over his muzzle before wobbling back into place. An intense wave of relaxation fell over him, weighing on his eyes making his limbs feel lifeless. His steady breathing, muffled hiccups, and bubbling gut soothed him into slumber. The last thought before succumbing to rest was how his belly stood over him like that of an elephant peering downward. He licked his chops at the vision that popped into his head. After several more feasts such as this, he’ll be the one towering over elephants, reveling in his mountainous lard laden visage till even Pride Rock could no longer contain him.