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Yet another older work in progress I finally got around to completing! This one focuses on object vore, and sees a rare return of August's original goat form.
A cute deer convinces August to show off how easily he can swallow baseball equipment...
Storage Locker Goat
By: Indi
The handle to the locker room door jiggled as it was clumsily unlocked. Two figures stumbled in, activating the automated lights as they laughed. One was a rather drunk gray goat dressed in a red baseball uniform, who couldn’t help but bleat as he giggled. With him was a far less tipsy deer.
“Told ya I could—hic—get us into the locker room,” the goat—August—gloated. He spread his arms out, almost falling over in the process.
“I expected nothing less from the star pitcher of the Columbia State University Trojans,” the deer—Aaron—said, cozying up to the goat. He looked around the room. “School must’ve thrown quite a lot of money your way. Looks brand new—and all your equipment is here, too.”
“Yup! They’re remodeling the storage area so we’ve been keeping everything here. Pisses off Coach cause I keep snacking on gloves and baseballs before games.” August seemed oddly proud about the fact.
Aaron chuckled. “So you’ve said.”
“It’s for good luck!” August insisted. “Plus for a goat like me, a lot of this stuff tastes delicious as Hell.” His gaze was drifting towards a few things laying about.
“What, eager for a midnight snack?” Aaron asked.
“Maaaaaaaybe.” August hadn’t taken his eye off a bin of baseballs. “Coach wouldn’t like it, though.”
“Coach isn’t here,” Aaron said, already dragging August over to the bin. He picked out one of the pristine baseballs, looking it over as if it was produce at the market. “Hmm, seems nice and ripe to me. But I’ll let the expert decide.” He gave the ball to August.
August squeezed the baseball, a mock look of seriousness on his face. Then he tossed it into his mouth and swallowed it whole. “Damn, leather always tastes great!”
“Then have another.” Aaron held out a second ball.
There was hesitation in the goat, but only momentarily. He looked around, as if Coach would jump out of hiding at any second, then accepted the snack. He gobbled it up just as swiftly as the first. There were already two more in Aaron’s hoof, awaiting his approval.
“I don’t know, four might be a bit—urrp—much,” August said, his gaze never leaving the baseballs.
“What, don’t think you can handle them?”
“Of course I can handle them!” August snatched the baseballs and downed them together. His flat middle bulged slightly. It didn’t take much convincing for him to eat four more, each one landing in his stomach with a muffled thunk.
“So,” Aaron asked. “What else do you want to try at this private buffet?”
There were racks on the nearby wall, filled with more equipment. The drunk August glanced over, and smiled. “Gloves are good.”
Aaron led the drunk and hungry goat towards the racks, until they were right in front of the gloves. August grabbed one, folded it tight, and shoved it into his mouth like a sandwich. It made a larger bulge in his throat than the balls had, and his middle pushed out further, too. He was still sighing in satisfaction when Aaron pushed another glove against his lips, nudging until the goat opened wide and accepted it. The gloves tasted too good to refuse.
Each glove swelled the goat’s middle up more, the buttons of his jersey straining as he started to gain a lumpy pot belly. He moaned as he felt the tightness around his middle, but didn’t stop swallowing the gloves. All the booze in his system made his head swim, the goat unable to consider the consequences.
Eventually, the buttons started to creak, and one popped right off, causing August’s belly to wobble and bulge as it was partially freed of the restrictive jersey. One more glove was enough to knock out two more buttons, causing a chain reaction that left his gut exposed.
“M-Maybe that’s enough,” August mumbled. He gently rubbed his gut with a hoof, amazed at how big it looked thanks to his gluttony. He’d always been slim, thinner than anyone else on the team. His temporary belly looked comedic as a result.
“But you haven’t even tried a helmet yet. I bet those taste interesting.” Aaron grabbed August’s hoof and started off, pulling the goat along.
August’s belly bounced as he went, causing him to blush. “Just one. There are still calories in this stuff, ya know.”
“Oh, I bet you could burn those off in no time. Think of it as a cheat day,” Aaron said with a smile. August nodded in reply.
Baseball helmets were larger and more rigid than the gloves. And yet August had no trouble opening wide enough to swallow one. It was obvious he’d done so before, probably as a bet or just to show off to the team. But Aaron doubted he’d eaten two. Or three. Or four. Each helmet made the goat swell out, his belly becoming rather unwieldy fast. His face was red, growing a deeper shade every time he felt the equipment shift within his stomach.
“You’re starting to resemble the mascot.” Aaron pressed a hoof into August’s gut, flustering him.
“I’m not that huge!” August insisted. Their mascot was a horse with a pink mane, a foul demeanor, and a belly wider than any August had seen before. The fact it was considered good luck to stuff the mascot before any important game probably had something to do with that.
“Yeah, but I bet you could at least swallow enough stuff to look that huge.” Aaron held up a pair of cleats, dangling them in front of the goat by their laces. They were practically fresh out of the box.
“I really shouldn’t. What if—mmmph!”
Aaron had shoved the cleats into his open mouth as he talked, and the goat had no choice but to gulp them down.
“No, really, I—mmmph!!”
Another pair went in. Four more followed, August’s gut swelling further, growing heavier. He burped when the last went in, huffing. Before he could say another word in protest, Aaron gave him a shove. The goat bleated loudly as he toppled back, plopping down on a bench and belching so strongly one of the cleats flew back out. It was expertly caught by Aaron, who fed it to August again.
“Dude I’m—urrrp—stuffed. If I eat too much more of this stuff I really will get fat!” August attempted to stand back up, but the weight of his gut kept him down. He blushed as he realized he was effectively immobile.
“Well the whole point of feeding you is so you’ll pack on the pounds, pitcher~” Aaron said with a smile. He walked over to a rack of equipment and rolled it over, pulling out a large bag of baseballs after.
“But if I get fat I won’t be able to play!” August let out a nervous laugh, hoping the deer was just joking. All the equipment in his gut had sobered him up slightly.
“Exactly. Turns out people will pay big bucks to sabotage a rival team,” Aaron said. “Hope you enjoyed being thin, because after I’m through with you it’ll be a miracle if you can even waddle.”
Aaron forced the end of the bag into August’s mouth and tilted it up, dumping a couple dozen baseballs down the goat’s gullet. August flailed a little, his belly spreading out. He was already more stuffed than he’d ever been in his life. He hadn’t even gotten that big showing off at his first frat party freshman year. Being so full made him feel woozy, and yet the cute deer he’d been swooning over the last week seemed hell-bent on filling him up more.
“I’m so glad I’m getting to stuff a goat again. Gives me the chance to really experiment, you know?” Aaron asked as he steadily pushed five bats down August’s throat. “Last year I fed some nerdy goat in the library. Emptied nearly an entire aisle of history texts into him. From what I hear he’s still too heavy to fit in the local game store and rant about card games.”
August had heard about a student chowing down on books at the library. How they’d needed to remove doors to lug him out afterward. He’d gotten a good laugh at the incident at the time. Now he was going to end up just like that other goat—stuffed until he became a blob. He squirmed harder, not that it did him any good.
With a few more helmets, August’s belly became so massive it caused him to tilt forwards. He flailed and bleated, rolling onto his gut. The pile of equipment within him clanked and clattered. Again he tried to lug himself up, but the weight of his belly was too much to overcome. The goat was truly helpless.
“Shit,” August groaned. His belly was big enough for him to sprawl upon. He felt massive, yet Aaron didn’t seem done with him. The deer grabbed a rolling bin and looped around the locker room, dumping everything he could into it. Helmets, uniforms, gloves, bats, balls, bags. He loaded it until equipment was tumbling over the edge, then brought it to August.
“You’re going to eat like a king tonight,” Aaron said, holding up a baseball. “A spoiled, gluttonous king who’s as big as his kingdom.” He shoved the baseball into August’s mouth, forcing the goat to swallow. It was swiftly followed by more balls and gloves.
“This may be my funnest job yet,” Aaron said as he continued to stuff August. “Fattening people is fun in general, but blimping up an athlete is just divine. All that hard work staying in shape. Exercise. Strict diets. Building muscle. I assume you spent years honing your skills becoming a star pitcher. And I’m going to ruin it all with a single meal.”
Aaron pulled out a full duffel bag. August cringed as it was brought towards him. His jaws were forced open, and he was fed the bag as if it were an oversized sub sandwich. His gaze drifted once he finished swallowing. “P-Please dude, no—braaap—more,” he groaned.
“More?” Aaron said, grinning wickedly. “If you insist~” He crammed a catcher’s chest pads down the goat’s throat. “The nerd I filled with books was barely conscious by this point; your capacity is admirable. Maybe getting fat is your destiny? You might wake up tomorrow morning and realize you love being big and doughy and blubbery. Which would be good, since I was paid to make sure you can’t even waddle around the bases anymore.”
August’s eyes widened at the prospect. With how much Aaron was feeding him, he really was going to get huge. How long would it take him to lose the weight? Would he even be able to before he graduated? Or ever, for that matter?
He’d heard Coach tell stories of players gaining weight while out on injury, the pounds steadily piling on as their appetites grew and they failed to keep their gains in check. Shortstops becoming short stacks. Record-breaking base runners ending up weighing over three hundred pounds. Outfielders too wide to enter the dugout.
Even Coach had once been lean and trim if the old photos of him back in college were anything to go by. Hard to believe, considering he had to be about five hundred pounds and growing.
While August became lost in hefty woes, Aaron continued to diligently stuff the goat. He fed him every last piece of equipment in the place, leaving no locker or storage closet untouched. August gradually rose atop the growing boulder his belly had become, drifting into a food coma. He swelled against and over the bench, causing it to creak and bend from his bulk. A few stray pieces of equipment were lost beneath the behemoth goat belly, but Aaron found more than enough to feed him.
One last ball cap finished off the feast. August moaned weakly, practically unconscious. Aaron patted his lumpy gut and smiled. “That was a lot more work than usual, but I can’t exactly funnel-feed you a locker room. Well worth the effort in the end. Well, August, this was a lovely week, but I’m afraid it’s time for me to go. There’s always someone in need of a good fattening out there. I’m looking forward to seeing the new, blubbery you in the news tomorrow once the team finds you. I’m sure it’ll be the talk of campus. Goodbye~”
Aaron strolled away, waving behind him as he left the locker room. August promptly passed out. The mountain-of-a-goat would need the whole night to digest the locker room of equipment he’d glutted on.
A cute deer convinces August to show off how easily he can swallow baseball equipment...
Storage Locker Goat
By: Indi
The handle to the locker room door jiggled as it was clumsily unlocked. Two figures stumbled in, activating the automated lights as they laughed. One was a rather drunk gray goat dressed in a red baseball uniform, who couldn’t help but bleat as he giggled. With him was a far less tipsy deer.
“Told ya I could—hic—get us into the locker room,” the goat—August—gloated. He spread his arms out, almost falling over in the process.
“I expected nothing less from the star pitcher of the Columbia State University Trojans,” the deer—Aaron—said, cozying up to the goat. He looked around the room. “School must’ve thrown quite a lot of money your way. Looks brand new—and all your equipment is here, too.”
“Yup! They’re remodeling the storage area so we’ve been keeping everything here. Pisses off Coach cause I keep snacking on gloves and baseballs before games.” August seemed oddly proud about the fact.
Aaron chuckled. “So you’ve said.”
“It’s for good luck!” August insisted. “Plus for a goat like me, a lot of this stuff tastes delicious as Hell.” His gaze was drifting towards a few things laying about.
“What, eager for a midnight snack?” Aaron asked.
“Maaaaaaaybe.” August hadn’t taken his eye off a bin of baseballs. “Coach wouldn’t like it, though.”
“Coach isn’t here,” Aaron said, already dragging August over to the bin. He picked out one of the pristine baseballs, looking it over as if it was produce at the market. “Hmm, seems nice and ripe to me. But I’ll let the expert decide.” He gave the ball to August.
August squeezed the baseball, a mock look of seriousness on his face. Then he tossed it into his mouth and swallowed it whole. “Damn, leather always tastes great!”
“Then have another.” Aaron held out a second ball.
There was hesitation in the goat, but only momentarily. He looked around, as if Coach would jump out of hiding at any second, then accepted the snack. He gobbled it up just as swiftly as the first. There were already two more in Aaron’s hoof, awaiting his approval.
“I don’t know, four might be a bit—urrp—much,” August said, his gaze never leaving the baseballs.
“What, don’t think you can handle them?”
“Of course I can handle them!” August snatched the baseballs and downed them together. His flat middle bulged slightly. It didn’t take much convincing for him to eat four more, each one landing in his stomach with a muffled thunk.
“So,” Aaron asked. “What else do you want to try at this private buffet?”
There were racks on the nearby wall, filled with more equipment. The drunk August glanced over, and smiled. “Gloves are good.”
Aaron led the drunk and hungry goat towards the racks, until they were right in front of the gloves. August grabbed one, folded it tight, and shoved it into his mouth like a sandwich. It made a larger bulge in his throat than the balls had, and his middle pushed out further, too. He was still sighing in satisfaction when Aaron pushed another glove against his lips, nudging until the goat opened wide and accepted it. The gloves tasted too good to refuse.
Each glove swelled the goat’s middle up more, the buttons of his jersey straining as he started to gain a lumpy pot belly. He moaned as he felt the tightness around his middle, but didn’t stop swallowing the gloves. All the booze in his system made his head swim, the goat unable to consider the consequences.
Eventually, the buttons started to creak, and one popped right off, causing August’s belly to wobble and bulge as it was partially freed of the restrictive jersey. One more glove was enough to knock out two more buttons, causing a chain reaction that left his gut exposed.
“M-Maybe that’s enough,” August mumbled. He gently rubbed his gut with a hoof, amazed at how big it looked thanks to his gluttony. He’d always been slim, thinner than anyone else on the team. His temporary belly looked comedic as a result.
“But you haven’t even tried a helmet yet. I bet those taste interesting.” Aaron grabbed August’s hoof and started off, pulling the goat along.
August’s belly bounced as he went, causing him to blush. “Just one. There are still calories in this stuff, ya know.”
“Oh, I bet you could burn those off in no time. Think of it as a cheat day,” Aaron said with a smile. August nodded in reply.
Baseball helmets were larger and more rigid than the gloves. And yet August had no trouble opening wide enough to swallow one. It was obvious he’d done so before, probably as a bet or just to show off to the team. But Aaron doubted he’d eaten two. Or three. Or four. Each helmet made the goat swell out, his belly becoming rather unwieldy fast. His face was red, growing a deeper shade every time he felt the equipment shift within his stomach.
“You’re starting to resemble the mascot.” Aaron pressed a hoof into August’s gut, flustering him.
“I’m not that huge!” August insisted. Their mascot was a horse with a pink mane, a foul demeanor, and a belly wider than any August had seen before. The fact it was considered good luck to stuff the mascot before any important game probably had something to do with that.
“Yeah, but I bet you could at least swallow enough stuff to look that huge.” Aaron held up a pair of cleats, dangling them in front of the goat by their laces. They were practically fresh out of the box.
“I really shouldn’t. What if—mmmph!”
Aaron had shoved the cleats into his open mouth as he talked, and the goat had no choice but to gulp them down.
“No, really, I—mmmph!!”
Another pair went in. Four more followed, August’s gut swelling further, growing heavier. He burped when the last went in, huffing. Before he could say another word in protest, Aaron gave him a shove. The goat bleated loudly as he toppled back, plopping down on a bench and belching so strongly one of the cleats flew back out. It was expertly caught by Aaron, who fed it to August again.
“Dude I’m—urrrp—stuffed. If I eat too much more of this stuff I really will get fat!” August attempted to stand back up, but the weight of his gut kept him down. He blushed as he realized he was effectively immobile.
“Well the whole point of feeding you is so you’ll pack on the pounds, pitcher~” Aaron said with a smile. He walked over to a rack of equipment and rolled it over, pulling out a large bag of baseballs after.
“But if I get fat I won’t be able to play!” August let out a nervous laugh, hoping the deer was just joking. All the equipment in his gut had sobered him up slightly.
“Exactly. Turns out people will pay big bucks to sabotage a rival team,” Aaron said. “Hope you enjoyed being thin, because after I’m through with you it’ll be a miracle if you can even waddle.”
Aaron forced the end of the bag into August’s mouth and tilted it up, dumping a couple dozen baseballs down the goat’s gullet. August flailed a little, his belly spreading out. He was already more stuffed than he’d ever been in his life. He hadn’t even gotten that big showing off at his first frat party freshman year. Being so full made him feel woozy, and yet the cute deer he’d been swooning over the last week seemed hell-bent on filling him up more.
“I’m so glad I’m getting to stuff a goat again. Gives me the chance to really experiment, you know?” Aaron asked as he steadily pushed five bats down August’s throat. “Last year I fed some nerdy goat in the library. Emptied nearly an entire aisle of history texts into him. From what I hear he’s still too heavy to fit in the local game store and rant about card games.”
August had heard about a student chowing down on books at the library. How they’d needed to remove doors to lug him out afterward. He’d gotten a good laugh at the incident at the time. Now he was going to end up just like that other goat—stuffed until he became a blob. He squirmed harder, not that it did him any good.
With a few more helmets, August’s belly became so massive it caused him to tilt forwards. He flailed and bleated, rolling onto his gut. The pile of equipment within him clanked and clattered. Again he tried to lug himself up, but the weight of his belly was too much to overcome. The goat was truly helpless.
“Shit,” August groaned. His belly was big enough for him to sprawl upon. He felt massive, yet Aaron didn’t seem done with him. The deer grabbed a rolling bin and looped around the locker room, dumping everything he could into it. Helmets, uniforms, gloves, bats, balls, bags. He loaded it until equipment was tumbling over the edge, then brought it to August.
“You’re going to eat like a king tonight,” Aaron said, holding up a baseball. “A spoiled, gluttonous king who’s as big as his kingdom.” He shoved the baseball into August’s mouth, forcing the goat to swallow. It was swiftly followed by more balls and gloves.
“This may be my funnest job yet,” Aaron said as he continued to stuff August. “Fattening people is fun in general, but blimping up an athlete is just divine. All that hard work staying in shape. Exercise. Strict diets. Building muscle. I assume you spent years honing your skills becoming a star pitcher. And I’m going to ruin it all with a single meal.”
Aaron pulled out a full duffel bag. August cringed as it was brought towards him. His jaws were forced open, and he was fed the bag as if it were an oversized sub sandwich. His gaze drifted once he finished swallowing. “P-Please dude, no—braaap—more,” he groaned.
“More?” Aaron said, grinning wickedly. “If you insist~” He crammed a catcher’s chest pads down the goat’s throat. “The nerd I filled with books was barely conscious by this point; your capacity is admirable. Maybe getting fat is your destiny? You might wake up tomorrow morning and realize you love being big and doughy and blubbery. Which would be good, since I was paid to make sure you can’t even waddle around the bases anymore.”
August’s eyes widened at the prospect. With how much Aaron was feeding him, he really was going to get huge. How long would it take him to lose the weight? Would he even be able to before he graduated? Or ever, for that matter?
He’d heard Coach tell stories of players gaining weight while out on injury, the pounds steadily piling on as their appetites grew and they failed to keep their gains in check. Shortstops becoming short stacks. Record-breaking base runners ending up weighing over three hundred pounds. Outfielders too wide to enter the dugout.
Even Coach had once been lean and trim if the old photos of him back in college were anything to go by. Hard to believe, considering he had to be about five hundred pounds and growing.
While August became lost in hefty woes, Aaron continued to diligently stuff the goat. He fed him every last piece of equipment in the place, leaving no locker or storage closet untouched. August gradually rose atop the growing boulder his belly had become, drifting into a food coma. He swelled against and over the bench, causing it to creak and bend from his bulk. A few stray pieces of equipment were lost beneath the behemoth goat belly, but Aaron found more than enough to feed him.
One last ball cap finished off the feast. August moaned weakly, practically unconscious. Aaron patted his lumpy gut and smiled. “That was a lot more work than usual, but I can’t exactly funnel-feed you a locker room. Well worth the effort in the end. Well, August, this was a lovely week, but I’m afraid it’s time for me to go. There’s always someone in need of a good fattening out there. I’m looking forward to seeing the new, blubbery you in the news tomorrow once the team finds you. I’m sure it’ll be the talk of campus. Goodbye~”
Aaron strolled away, waving behind him as he left the locker room. August promptly passed out. The mountain-of-a-goat would need the whole night to digest the locker room of equipment he’d glutted on.
Category Story / Fat Furs
Species Goat
Gender Male
Size 100 x 100px
Oooo this is so good! Love some casual fun with eating stuff! Especially when you’re indulging yourself!~
I don't see object vore around much but I must say, this was a very good read!
I love the image of all those baseballs piling up in his growing belly. Object vore is great.
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