In an experiment-gone-wrong, a chubby little dragon might become a much chubbier, BIGGER dragon. The invention of a machine that endlessly serves food will certainly see to that.


I chose to put Zag through this fun little scenario, it's not canon or anything but he's a good bean

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“It can instantly procure just about any food you want.”

“Out of nothing?”

“Almost.”

“Doesn’t that… break science or something?” Zag asked. The pale gray dragon’s chubby fingers fidgeted with a combination of interest, and nervousness. The Food Bot was supposed to revolutionize dining. But could endlessly creating food become dangerous somehow?

The slightly taller dragon, Ronden, waved dismissively. “You’re acting like it’s breaking the laws of physics or something. It’s more like teleportation, but to transform matter.” Before Zag could butt in with any more questions, the blue dragon touched the bot, instantly bringing it to life.

The robot—or Food Bot, as Ronden had affectionately named it—was mobile on its own, meant to replace the need for servers. It could find the user by drifting along on its hoverpad, and then produce food from a dome-shaped metal container that Zag did suppose looked kind of like a teleporter. He had to admit It was a pretty cool invention. Why go to the kitchen when a little bot could track you down and give you any food you want?

“This is just a prototype, obviously, so let me know anything that goes wrong.” The blue dragon nodded at Zag. “So I can keep making adjustments and work out the bugs.”
“Okay.” Zag watched as the other dragon confidently strode out of Zag’s office. It was nice of him to let Zag be the first to try it out. Zag was located pretty far from the kitchen, and led a pretty sedentary lifestyle that made long treks through the building a chore. He was the perfect candidate for someone who could use a fun little bot to serve him.

Looking down at himself, he figured Ronden also thought he looked the part.

His lack of exercise, and rather hearty appetite, had caused a bit of a potbelly to grow on his middle. He kept telling himself to diet, but it only ever grew rounder. He already had a bit of a broad frame, but it was coated in soft chub, folding at every crease of his limbs and padding out his figure. The doughy slope of his chest melded into his pudgy gut and the rolls of adipose on his sides, curving over his tubby thighs and rump. He folded his pale wings into his back shyly at being reminded how far he’d let himself go.

He returned his attention to the bot to avoid thinking about it. There was a little touch screen on the front where he was supposed to type in his food order. He wasn’t particularly hungry at the moment, but curious about how it worked. And he could always go for a snack. His pudgy fingers danced over the pad as he tried to think of something simple. Alright. Let’s try pizza.

At first, the bot didn’t do anything. Zag wondered if he was supposed to be more specific. He’d imagined it would produce a slice of the most generic, cheese-and-sauce pizza ever, but did it expect him to specify?

There was suddenly a whirring noise from the metallic dome, and then it slid open. Inside was a basic cheese pizza. So, it works. It was actually an entire pizza, but Zag figured it was his own fault for assuming it would be a single portion. He reached in to grab it, taking note of the fact that it was perfectly warm. This seemed too easy. Would it taste good? His question was swiftly answered by the flavor of cheese exploding through his mouth as his teeth sank through to the doughy crust. It was actually better than he could have imagined. How did the bot know how pizza was supposed to taste?

Too many questions. Zag realized that now that delicious food had been placed in front of him, the rich smell wafting into his nostrils, he was actually hungrier than he’d thought. He picked up more of the slices, taking a seat at his desk. He found himself bolting them down one after another, each with overwhelming flavor. He was startled when he realized he’d eaten the whole thing, nothing left but crumbs dotting his snout. Even more surprising, he realized he didn’t actually feel full. He wondered if there was some quality to food procured out of nothing, that made it less filling. He’d have to let Ronden know.

He patted his belly, feeling it slosh with the weight of the pizza inside. Well it certainly looked filling; the gentle dome of his belly was a little more bloated than usual.

Zag stood up to leave, although he noticed the bot follow him to the door. He hadn’t called it to come or anything, but it seemed perfectly content to follow him down the hallway from his office and into his private living quarters. No one else was home, leaving the couch and TV free. He quickly got comfortable, although he couldn’t quite ignore the Food Bot taking up residence quietly in the corner. His mouth watered at the thought of his endless possibilities. Despite its size, the pizza hadn’t really been all that filling. And now that he’d started eating and awakened his hunger, his belly was starting to rumble.

“Heh… alright,” Zag muttered to himself, leaning forward on the couch to get up. Before he stood, the bot flew over, as if already anticipating his next move. Zag was impressed. And maybe a little weirded out, but mostly impressed. He hovered his finger over the touch pad. “What do I want next…”

It turned out, the bot was more than capable of making tacos. And nachos. And burritos. And more. And all in sizes that were probably meant for multiple people rather than one, Zag soon realized. When he typed in something like ‘nachos’ it would produce an entire, massive bowl. A word like ‘quesadillas’ summoned a full platter. He tried to be more specific, but it didn’t seem to register size preferences.

Still, since the food was less than filling, it was a while before he realized he’d overeaten; there was no uncomfortable, stuffed feeling to give any indication. It was as he finished gulping down the second half of a massive burrito, on top of all the other platters he’d finished, that he felt something brush against the front of his belly. He looked down to see that his middle was so distended by this point that it had bumped the side of the bot sitting in front of him when he bent forward. Zag was no stranger to gorging, but was shocked. He was very visibly putting away more food than could ever seem reasonable, and yet felt like he could eat more. He reached down to press his paws into the round mass, hearing it groan.

I have to call Ronden. Surely, it was some kind of glitch. Something wrong with the food. Maybe collecting matter to mimic delicious food, didn’t quite give it the same qualities that made the body recognize it had eaten. Or maybe the matter was denser than real food. Or any other million possibilities. Zag pushed himself to his feet, struggling for a moment with the new weight in his gut. On the outside, it certainly felt like real food packing his belly, sloshing and weighing over his thighs more than usual. The heft was there, and pressing a chubby paw into the squishy bulge yielded the familiar feeling of adipose absorbing his fingers. He wondered if the calories were real.

His question was almost immediately answered by the realization that when he took a step, the pudge of his thighs pushed his stance wider apart, and his heavy tail moved more ponderously than usual. The calories were real enough to make him gain weight, it seemed. Was the transformed matter he’d eaten, already transforming into lard? Hefting his belly again, he tried to gauge if it felt any softer than it had several minutes ago when he’d first noticed the problem. He couldn’t tell.

He shook his head to himself, feeling a second chin squish with the movement. He was wasting time. Ronden had to have a fix for this.

Zag ponderously made his way to his computer, the Food Bot drifting behind him as if to mock him. Without really thinking about it, he plucked a forgotten chip from a near-empty bowl of nachos. He’d already dug himself into a hole. It didn’t really matter if he finished the snacks. And his hunger was really starting to amp up, maybe now that his body was expecting to have eaten, and yet didn’t feel as if it were full of anything.

After dropping into his much comfier swivel chair and logging onto his computer, Zag felt the bot accidentally bump into his side, indenting the plush roll of fat above his hips as if to emphasize how wide he’d gotten. He absentmindedly took another fistful of chips into his paw, stuffing them into his mouth without tearing his eyes from the screen. He was ready to write a message to Ronden, but wanted to say something more specific than Your Food Bot sucks, it made me fat and hungry. Were there any specific details he could add? He hadn’t done anything wrong, as far as he could tell.

His ear twitched as a new whirring sound came from the bot, and he turned to see it extending a tray toward him with mechanical parts that emerged from inside. It could just… present food from a distance? Instead of making Zag lean over, it could have been placing dishes directly in front of his snout? Zag shook his head to himself. It probably had a dozen cool features he hadn’t even explored. Too bad he’d never find out, since he needed to get rid of this thing. He looked down at his expansive potbelly, which reminded him of that. He was pretty sure he was right about the calorie thing, too, noticing that it was saggier than it had been only minutes ago, and his doughy body was looking suspiciously softer in the meantime.

He looked back up at the screen, only to see the bot extend a plate in front of his snout. It had a tray of pizza, similar to the one earlier. Did it have some sort of saved search history? He’d stopped eating the nachos, so it was looking for something else to make him happy?

He waved it away. Nothing about this was making him particularly happy. But the Food Bot didn’t back off, and Zag’s stomach simultaneously let out a growl. He sighed. Maybe he could munch on a slice while writing. Surely, that wouldn’t hurt.

By the time he was done writing a message and pressing send, he realized he’d somehow managed to snack on half the pizza without noticing. Now he was annoyed at himself; that part had nothing to do with the Food Bot, that was all his own bad habit. While waiting for Ronden to reply, he absently massaged his gut with a paw. His other paw was still holding a slice of pizza. He took a bite, fully aware of it this time, paying attention to the way the perfectly melted cheese stretched away from his snout. He felt guilty, but also defeated at this point. No shame in finishing up the meal that had already been placed in front of him.

Of course, when the last of the pizza had disappeared into his gut, the bot hummed to life and produced more food. Zag blinked. A platter of sandwiches stacked high, were waiting for him enticingly. He hadn’t ordered that. The Food Bot was just making stuff up now. It was glitched, for sure. He turned his chair and leaned forward to see if he could find the off switch, before the thing could keep giving him trouble, but the scent of the sandwiches wafted into his nose. He wondered how sandwiches made by the bot would taste. As good as everything else, probably. He pushed away the thought. He’d never know, because he definitely didn’t need any more food. Although, as his stomach grumbled with hunger, he supposed that it didn’t make sense to let them go to waste, however fake they may be.

He scowled. He knew he was just coming up with excuses to let himself overeat, as usual. I’m turning it off before it makes anything else to guilt me—in addition to eating what it had already provided, of course. The sandwiches already existed, so why not? He definitely wouldn’t let it make anything else, though. He reached forward, but felt himself suddenly halted by the arms of the computer chair pinching his sides. He hadn’t even noticed them pressing in more tightly as his love handles encroached upon the padded supports. He tried to lean forward again, but his hips and sides had expanded to fill the space between them, overflowing with too much flab to squeeze out of the way. Zag felt his face flush with embarrassment at his predicament. At least no one was around to see him. Well, Ronden would see him when he arrived, but at least he’d have some sort of fix for all this. For sure. He had to have anticipated something like this, right?

Zag’s thoughts inevitably wandered back to the sandwiches sitting on the platform of the bot, slightly out of reach. Then, as if reading his mind, the bot’s mechanical arms whirred from within to stretch the food closer to Zag’s pudgy muzzle. Zag tried to push it away with his pudgy paws. Eating was the last thing he wanted to do right now.

The bot could apparently tell he was lying. It didn’t help that Zag’s stomach gave out a huge growl. Okay, I’ll eat the sandwiches and then turn it off, Zag conceded. He didn’t feel as guilty about that, since it was what he’d already decided earlier. He leaned forward again to look for an off switch, and was abruptly reminded of why that plan hadn’t worked the first time, the unrelenting arms of the chair buried somewhere in his rolls. Dammit. His weight was getting a little absurd by now, mostly focused on his middle, although he noticed the arms of the chair constricting his fattening thighs and rump as well. Even having stopped eating several minutes ago, he was still expanding as his body converted the empty calories into more blubber.

He parted his jaws in exasperation, but it only made him aware of the way his chin pressed into the soft rolls of his neck. He gave himself a little wiggle to see if he could ease some flab out of the chair, but the way that his gut flopped on his lap did little to dislodge him. He put his paws on the soft surface to calm the jiggling that lasted for a few extra seconds afterward. When they pressed into the surface, he realized that the chubby limbs couldn’t even reach all the way under his gut anymore to heft it. This is getting out of control.

As if that wasn’t enough, he’d no sooner had the thought than the Food Bot, apparently impatient, suddenly extended one of the sandwiches from the plate directly into his snout.

“Mmph!” Zag’s protest was quickly plugged by the sandwich filling his jaws. Apparently, the machine was somehow taking into account the idea that its user might not be able to reach it. And it was designed to serve. Not that Zag had asked it to.

He’d barely finished chowing down the sandwich before another was presented to his face. He tried to push it away with his increasingly heavy arms, but the metallic parts could not be deterred. Turning his head away didn’t help either, as the flexible arm still managed to find his muzzle. He was forced to accept another sandwich into his jaws. He’d been right, it was delicious, but he knew it was making his situation worse. Never mind that he still felt hungry, he definitely needed to stop this nonsense before things got worse. Well, more than they already are.

Another platter of sandwiches, though, and Zag hadn’t made any progress. With his arms increasingly soft and stubby in comparison to the layers of adipose sitting upon his body, he was out of ideas. Just when he was sure he’d hit a roadblock, though, the chair holding his doughy body collapsed beneath him. It wasn’t dramatic; there weren’t creaks, groans, or cracking noises as it split apart. Instead, the release of pressure on his body was sudden, allowing the layers upon layers of lard to finally spill out around him to their more accurate size. He was taken aback to see how large he’d actually gotten, unrestricted by armrests that contained his mass like a soft prison. The jiggling seemed to last forever, although jostling his flab whenever he moved definitely didn’t help.

The Food Bot had temporarily stopped, as if confused trying to sense its user’s new whereabouts, and Zag took advantage of the lapse to grab hold of the side of his desk and push himself to his feet. He realized it was hard to even get his feet under himself, weighed down so profoundly by drooping rolls of bulk. Surely, he couldn’t be that big, too fat to even stand. Though, the more he tried, the less sure he felt.

He was finally able to haul himself up by sheer willpower, wobbling unsteadily with poundage that nearly spilled past his knees when standing straight. His fat arms lay upon his fat sides, rolls lying upon more rolls as they fought for real-estate on his still-growing form. He waddled forward only a step or two, the swinging of his vast belly making it hard to keep steady when he moved. His thick thighs strained to press up into the blubber of the overhang. He’d never imagined being this fat before. Hadn’t even known it was possible.

He’d barely taken another step before the Food Bot found him again, this time presenting desserts. Zag hadn’t realized he’d finished the sandwiches, stuffing him full of carbs. Not that he felt full, but the pounds were still piling on even as he stood. He tried to put up his paws to block the bot’s access to his mouth, but the way the soft rolls of his chest bunched up between the bulging blubber of his arms kept them too far apart to do much good. Delicious pie was shoveled into his mouth, relentlessly.

It all went downhill from there. The constant swelling eventually made Zag sit down, lest he end up falling down with the exhaustion of his legs trying to hold the growing weight. It would have been a very padded landing, but he was pretty sure he couldn’t have taken another step in his current condition anyway. He couldn’t even reach the desk anymore to brace against to push himself back to his feet. His rump was planted firmly on the soft carpet, the dimpled lard of his thighs spreading around him, almost absorbing what was still visible of his stubby tail. The sprawling blubber of his gut sat upon them, curving into expansive love handles that hosted the smaller rolls up his sides that pushed his arms away from the bulges of his soft chest. The way it sloped into his belly only created more bulges on his frontside, the largest of which was still packed with calories from the endless feeding.

Just when Zag was beginning to think this was just his life now, the desserts suddenly stopped. The machine was still whirring, clearly unfinished, but Zag felt a spark of hope regardless. He leaned forward, squirming inside the soft, encompassing mass of his own body. I can’t walk at this point, but I’ll crawl if I have to, as long as I get away. To hell with dignity at this point. He was just hoping to get out.

And that’s how Zag managed to lean forward and beach himself on the round pile of blubber that made up his middle. He hadn’t realized that the situation was so far out of control that none of his paws would be able to make contact with the ground anymore.

He squirmed helplessly, sending ripples through the layers of lard that made up his body but doing little else. Every part of him was shrouded in adipose, even the joints of his pale, fuzzy wings that fluttered uselessly atop his back. The mass of his doughy body made for a comfortable resting place, but pretty much any chance of escape had been stolen from him.

He startled as the bot drifted back into view. This time the ‘food’ it procured was concealed by a container, but Zag saw a hose stretch toward his mouth. He hung his head in defeat, not having any way to protest. When it planted itself firmly in his muzzle, the sweet taste of thick cream coated his tongue. He felt his swollen belly jiggle as it was pumped full of endless fat and sugar.

The door burst open, revealing Ronden standing with a confused look at the sight before him. After taking a moment to process the situation, he walked quickly to the bot and turned it off. The hose retracted from Zag’s mouth, and he found himself gulping for air as he licked the last of the cream off his snout.

“I see there’s been some problems,” said Ronden uncertainly.

“Hell yeah there’s been problems!” Zag scowled. “Look at me!” When he even tried to move, all it did was send ripples through the lard. The jiggling cream that had been pumped into his belly certainly didn’t help, making his flab even softer.

Ronden put a paw on his chin. “Yeah, I’m not blind, Zag.” He looked over the plumped up dragon. He looked at the Food Bot, then back at Zag, scratching his head.

“Well? How do you fix this?” Zag interrupted.

Ronden looked away awkwardly. “The bot? I need to make a few… adjustments. Obviously.”

That was an understatement. Zag would have crossed his arms in annoyance if he could. “Maybe choose someone else to test it next time.”

“For sure.”

“What are you going to do about me?” Zag asked next, clearly the biggest problem in the room—no pun intended. “If you can transform matter, how do you, uh, untransform matter?” Zag hoped it wasn’t ridiculously complicated, although he’d do anything to get out of this mess.

“Oh, I’m not sure I can.”

The two dragons stared at each other for a second. Finally, Zag flattened his ears, the reality sinking in. “What?”

Ronden looked away awkwardly again. Zag realized maybe a bit guiltily. “The machine made the food, but your body genuinely turned it into fat.”

“So… what are you going to do?”

“I mean… it’s nothing a strict diet and exercise regimen won’t fix.”

“Ronden,” Zag said, exasperated. “I can’t just… stay like this. I’m at an absolutely absurd size. I can’t even scratch my own nose if I wanted.”

“If you can’t reach your face, it’s the perfect time to start your diet.”

“RONDEN.”

“Okay! Okay,” the other dragon held up his paws defensively. “I’m sorry. But other than accommodating your current size, there’s nothing much we can do. Your body has to process this naturally.”

Zag let out a long sigh, realizing he would have to resign himself to his fate. Until he shed all the accumulated weight, of course, and went back to his normal life. It just looked like it might be a while.

“I mean, if there’s anything you need in the meantime, I’ll be happy enough to help provide it,” Ronden promised. “I feel awful about all this.”

Zag snorted. Even that simple movement, though, jostled the roll of his double chin, which sent even more ripples through the pounds of flesh that constituted his body. His limbs rested uselessly atop the expanse of his sprawling gut, his own blubber pooling around him like a giant bed he was part of. He knew it would be quite a while before he could even sit up again without help, let alone stand. He’d have to just rely on Ronden’s word.

To his credit, the blue-scaled dragon seemed serious. “How do you feel right now?”

Zag thought for long moment, his body finally reaching stasis as the last of the empty calories finished spreading adipose across his body. He pawed the doughy mass, feeling the way it sloshed and jiggled beneath his paws. He glanced back at the other dragon. “Hungry.”