As the months of cold weather wore on, Gulli’s willpower faded more and more. Day after day, he would wake up to a belly that was a little bigger, a little harder to move. Soon he sluggishly swung his legs off the edge of the bed and pushed his belly over that cliff just to help himself get upright.

It took all the leverage he could muster with that massive belly to wrench his equally enormous ass off the broad mattress he used. Every day it grew a little more difficult, the waddle to the shower, then into the rest of the house without a stitch on growing longer and longer. Eventually he stopped even going to the fridge, settling onto the couch instead and letting the magic Toner had taught him bring the food to his lips.

On his last mobile day, he never reached the couch. The food began floating toward his fat snout before he even left the hallway and by the time his floor-dragging belly finally stopped him, he was merely halfway into the living room, right beside the kitchen door.

The neighbors thought perhaps a macro fur had sat down nearby a little too indelicately but it was the hybrid’s thighs surrendering to the load his body had become. Even as his mass finally stopped wobbling, more and more food was floating to his snout. Hours and hours passed but the food wouldn’t stop, he didnt want it to anymore. By that evening, his rear had grown so enormously large that standing, even without his belly, was out of the question. In front of him, his belly sprawled like some immense beanbag chair being filled with jello more and more, expanding slowly, unstoppably outward while his ballooning thighs and calves held his feet well off the floor…