plokishmok3-1545872941.plokishmok3 taking charge TITLE Taking Charge FAID 29878702 | Home | EquiBooru (2025)

Taking Charge by plokishmok3

Author's page: https://www.furaffinity.net/user/plokishmok3/
Picture page: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/29878702/ (EBFAID29878702EB)

Tags: Digimon, Impmon, Fit, to, Fat, Weight, Gain, Obese, Immobile, Demanding, Role, Reversal, Spoiled, Eating, Stuffing, Lazy, Belly, Crushing

Category: Story | Theme: Fat Furs | Rating: General

Published: 2018-12-27 01:09:01

Impmon is sick of being run ragged with his training and finally gets his tamer to give him a single chocolate bar. After just one bite, something awakens in Impmon that quickly spirals beyond his tamer's control...

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A commission for addylad featuring a softening Impmon.

Enjoy!

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“I still can’t get over how nice it is today!” Ben said as he closed his eyes and let the sun overhead warm his face as he walked along the park sidewalk.

“The perfect day to go to the park!” Impmon said, walking beside his tamer. The digimon flicked his purple ears, turning them to hear the laughter of children playing Frisbee in a nearby field. Impmon slowed to watch the kids running back and forth, but when he turned back, he saw that Ben was a few steps ahead of him. Impmon quickly ran to catch back up with his tamer even though his legs were a little sore from their training session earlier that day. Though he was in good shape, the warm afternoon air caused a bead of sweat to form on his brow and his breath to quicken ever so slightly. When Impmon saw an empty bench up ahead, he tugged on the bottom of Ben’s shirt; Impmon only came up to his tamer’s torso, a little higher if you counted his ears.

“Can we sit down?” Impmon asked.

“Sure thing, bud,” Ben said, veering to toward a bench along the edge of the walkway. Impmon hopped up next to Ben as the two stared ahead toward the small pond before them. The water was crystal clear and they could see a few other tamers and their digimon taking a refreshing dip. Impmon sighed as he relaxed in his seat; this was the life. Looking around, his gaze fell upon a small picnic across the walkway from them where two tamers and their respective digimon were chowing down on a platter of sandwiches. The sight elicited a gurgle from Impmon’s belly, reminding the digimon that he hadn’t eaten lunch yet.

“Hungry, Impmon?” Ben asked with a smile.

“A bit,” Impmon said, clutching his middle.

“Well, lucky for you, I packed the perfect recovery lunch for you,” Ben said as he took off his backpack and began to fish around the center pocket. Impmon was excited about food but that excitement was tempered. He and Ben had been in the midst of a tough training regimen, one that included skills training, exercise, and a fairly strict diet. Impmon had been eating baked chicken and spinach for so long that he felt like he had forgotten what other food tasted like. This wasn’t to say that he didn’t enjoy the chicken, just that he wished he had some variety in his life. He knew that it was important for his training, as he felt stronger than ever right now, but it was that fact that lied the problem; what were they training so hard for?

The local digi-tournaments had just finished a few weeks ago. This was supposed to be a time to relax and recover! They had done well in the tournament, winning a solid sum of money that would help support the pair over the next few years if necessary, but Ben was acting like they had come in dead last; it was getting on Impmon’s nerves. He wanted a break. He deserved a break. He wanted to relax. He deserved to relax, at least a little! Yet here he was, going for an afternoon walk in the park after a morning of practice waiting for his tamer to pull out lukewarm, flavorless chicken that he was supposed to enjoy. Impmon tried to remain positive as he watched Ben fish around in his bag.

“It’s got to be in here somewhere,” Ben muttered but after a few minutes he stopped rummaging and turned to Impmon with a guilty look spread across his face. “I’m so sorry, bud! I must have forgotten your chicken on the kitchen counter!”

“Oh,” Impmon said, “that’s okay.” As if on cue, his stomach rumbled loudly again.

“No, it’s not okay,” Ben said. “You need to eat something. Let me see if there’s anything else hiding away in here.” Ben fished his hand back into the bag and a few seconds later he pulled out a pair of chocolate bars. Impmon’s eyes suddenly lit up. Sugar!

“What about those?” Impmon said, trying to not sound too eager.

“Candy?” Ben asked incredulously. “I don’t know; these aren’t exactly the healthiest things in the world…”

No, no, no! Impmon thought. This was his one chance to break away from his diet; he needed to pull out all the stops. As Impmon’s stomach growled again, he doubled over, groaning dramatically as he clutched his middle.

“But, I’m so hungry!” Impmon whined, giving Ben a set of puppy-dog eyes as he held his gloved hands up to his chest, pleading.

“Oh, okay, but only one,” Ben said, handing Impmon one of the candy bars. Impmon aggressively swiped it from his hand and tore the wrapping off. The smell of chocolate wafted into his nose, causing his mouth to salivate; this was going to be good! The digimon slowly brought the chocolate bar to his mouth and took a small bite off the end. Instantly, the inside of his mouth was coated in a layer of chocolate. The sweet flavored pounded his tastebuds, practically overwhelming them after months of bland, “power” food. He quickly chewed and swallowed the bite before stuffing half the chocolate bar into his mouth.

Ben watched Impmon suckle down the treat and though he was happy that Impmon was getting something to eat, he was a little worried just how quickly he was chowing down on the candy bar; he never ate his chicken or veggies like that! It only took a minute for Impmon to polish off the treat, finishing it off by licking his fingers and the corners of his lips of any smeared chocolate before placing his hands on his stomach with a content sigh.

“Feeling better?” Ben asked.

“Much,” Impmon said as he slouched back on the bench. The two sat there for a few more minutes, relaxing in the sun before Ben stood up to leave. Despite a subtle grown from Impmon he hopped up and followed his tamer as they continued down the sidewalk; the digimon’s legs felt even more tired now than before. As they round the pound and came across the playground, Impmon spotted an Agumon sitting on a swing with three twizzles sticking out of his mouth. The sight of the carefree grin on the swinging digimon’s face and the dangling candy practically calling to Impmon made his mouth water. He instinctively smacked his lips as a sudden craving for more sweetness welled up inside of him. Then he remembered there was a second chocolate bar in Ben’s bag! As Impmon’s mind wandered toward the sweet treat just within arm’s reach, his stomach growled again, garnering the attention of Ben.

“Are you still hungry?” Ben said; here was Impmon’s chance!

“Yeah, so hungry,” Impmon said, once again dramatically clutching his middle. “Can I have that other candy bar?”

“I don’t know,” Ben said tentatively as Impmon groaned loudly again. “I guess if it’ll tide you over until we get home.” Ben paused and took out the other candy bar and handed it to Impmon. Continuing on their way along the sidewalk, Ben could hear Impmon suckling the candy bar down as if it were the last bit of food he would ever eat; maybe he really was super hungry. Ben’s mind wandered toward the clean meal he had planned for Impmon for dinner that night, one that seemed especially necessary after the afternoon’s treats. Ben was so caught up thinking about steamed broccoli and Brussel sprouts that he didn’t notice the content grin spreading across Impmon’s face; something had awakened in the digimon.

He had gotten a taste for what he had been missing all those months and years and it as going to take far more than Ben realized to keep those unearthing cravings at bay.

~~~~~

“I don’t know, Impmon…” Ben said warily.

“Come on, it’s just one corndog,” Impmon pleaded as he stood with his arms crossed to the side of the corndog cart set up in the middle of the park.

“But we need to head to the gym to practice,” Ben said.

“What if we just skip practice today?” Impmon said.

“Skip practice, but...” Ben started to say, taken aback slightly.

“But, the tourneys aren’t until NEXT YEAR!” Impmon interrupted, his tail flicking back and forth, frustrated. “Skipping one cardio session isn’t going to hurt anything. Let’s enjoy ourselves!”

“I guess you’re right,” Ben said. He paused for a second, taking a deep breath as he stared at the pleading face of his digital companion. “Fine, we can push back practice until tomorrow.” Ben pulled out his wallet and walked up to the corndog stand.

“What do you want?” the gruff attendant asked.

“I’ll take one corndog,” Ben said.

“Two corndogs,” Impmon said, tugging on Ben’s shirt.

“Errr uh,” Ben said a little flustered, “make that two.” The attendant grunted as he grabbed two corndogs from under the heat lamp and handed them to Ben who immediately handed them to Impmon before turning to pay. When he got his change back, he turned back to Impmon and saw that the digimon had already bitten off the tops of both corndogs. “Oh,” Ben muttered under his breath. At first, he had thought that they’d each get a corndog, but as Impmon munched vigorous on both morsels, alternating bites as he worked his way down the wooden sticks, it was clear neither were meant for Ben. Ben shrugged and opened up his bag; he had brought a sandwich from home anyway. In fact, he had a high protein peanut butter and flaxseed sandwich for Impmon too, but it was clear that Impmon wasn’t going to touch that after his greasy, breaded hot dogs.

Ben had been finding it difficult to get Impmon to eat any of his usual power foods over the last week and a half, ever since he had given the digimon a taste of those candy bars in the park. At the dinner table, Impmon would simply push food around his plate or grumble as he chocked down his chicken and broccoli. After dinner, the digimon would beg Ben to give him another candy bar or some other sweet. Ben didn’t normally have many sugary treats or junk food in the house, but he always managed to find a small bag of chips or a sleeve of cookies somewhere. He would give Impmon his desired morsels, hoping the reward would have motivated the digimon to finish his future meals, but that plan seemed to be backfiring.

Over the last few days, he had noticed Impmon eating less and less of his dinner and instead indulging in his after-dinner treats; he was filling up on sugar, fats, and salts! It had gotten to the point that yesterday, Impmon had come right out and refused to eat his usual Wednesday night rice and beans! He said that it tasted bland and gross, even though he hadn’t taken a single bite. He had thrown such a fit that Ben had caved and given him a box of cookies to placate him. Impmon had promptly gobbled down the sweet treats like he had been starving in the desert for a month.
Ben had kicked himself afterward for caving to Impmon, just as he was doing now as he watched his digimon gorge on his corndogs. Ben was so caught up in his head that he barely noticed that Impmon had finished corndogs and was now running toward the ice cream stand up the sidewalk.

“I want a chocolate-vanilla swirl!” Impmon said giddily, pulling Ben out of his train of thought abruptly. Flustered, Ben followed the Impmon. He wanted to tell Impmon no and that he’d spoil his appetite for dinner but by the time he caught up to the cart, the attendant was already handing Impmon his cone; it was too late now. With a sigh, he handed the gruff man a handful of bills. He sighed again when he saw the content face on his digimon as he licked up the entire length of his towering ice cream cone. Ben had to admit, that Impmon looked adorable when he was happy.
We’ll just call today a cheat day, Ben rationalized. Yeah, just a cheat day… Tomorrow, he’d put his foot down and they’d get back to training again, or so he hoped.

~~~~~

“I’m out of lemonade!” Impmon called from the living room the moment he lowered his now empty glass from his lips. He wiped the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand and let out a slight hiccup. With a lazy grunt, he sat up and slowly leaned forward, trying to put the glass on the coffee table in front of him though he just couldn’t reach. He tried kicking his legs forward, but with his short stature they barely grazed the edge of the small wooden table. Ben walked in as he saw Impmon struggling. In a flash, he pictured the digimon dropping the glass and it shattering like, well, glass, sending shards into the living room carpet that would never leave even with the most powerful of vacuum cleaners. Ben rushed forward and grabbed the glass from Impmon who merely smirked and settled back into his lounging position.

“Grab me another one,” Impmon said bluntly as he slowly slid down the back of the couch into a relaxed slouch as his eyes refocused on the television before him.

“Isn’t this your third already?” Ben asked.

“And I want a fourth, what’s wrong with that?” Impmon demanded, glaring up at Ben who felt his heart flutter in his chest; why’d he feel so nervous?

“Well… uh,” Ben stammered.

“Well if you can’t come up with a reason, then maybe you should spend that time grabbing me another glass,” Impmon suggested. Ben knew why he felt nervous around Impmon, a reason that was apparent now just as it had been becoming more apparent over the last week or so: Impmon was becoming spoiled, and the digimon knew it. Impmon had come to realize that despite the fact that his tamer had sent him through a rigorous training schedule all those years, Ben was actually rather weak-willed. It was a fact that Impmon had only just started to realize as the digimon had never pushed Ben before. After seeing how easy it was to convince Ben to give him those chocolate bars all those weeks ago, he realized that when pressured, Ben always caved. That meant that Impmon could get just about anything he wanted when he wanted, and what he wanted right now was another glass of lemonade! It had been raining all day and the humidity was getting to Impmon; he needed some way to cool off!

Of course, he could have gone to the local pool to swim his usual laps, but Impmon had thought otherwise. Rainy Sundays were meant to be spent indoors on the couch watching movies or playing video games and that was what Impmon was going to do. Ben had tried approaching him three hours into his sci-fi movie marathon but Ben had come up short when arguing the merits of taking the day off. They had just worked out yesterday, didn’t Impmon deserve a break, even if that workout had consisted of just running a few laps around the park before demanding an ice cream cone to cool off? Just like he had more and more over the last few weeks, Ben had caved and Impmon had once again settled back into his lounging position feeling accomplished and vindicated; it served Ben right for not giving him any breaks over the last few years!

Now that Impmon was advocating for himself, he was so much happier. Impmon had more time to relax and he could enjoy some of the delicious foods that he had been denied for so long. Of course, he had been almost exclusively eating those fatty sugary foods he had come to love and he had been sitting on his butt all day every day for the last week; could he help that it was the rainy season? He had never felt more relaxed and indulgent in his life, and he loved it, a fact that anyone could have noticed having given the digimon one glance over: Impmon had put on weight.

With all those excess calories flying down his gullet, calories his body wasn’t used to, and his meager adherence to his training meant that all that excess culinary energy had no outlet except adipose. Ben could see a thin layer of fat that had accumulated across the digimon’s entire frame, dulling his toned physique. His arms and legs look slightly thicker, with his elbows and knees forming slight creases in the new soft layer as the digimon shifted positions on the couch. The Impmon’s once angled jawline had softened as a small pocket of pudge had started to form beneath his chin. Ben wouldn’t have called it a second chin, but it certainly was a newly acquired accomplice along with the digimon’s thicker neck and puffier cheeks; his handkerchief had been looking a little tight recently. Impmon’s torso had taken on a new shape as well as it had taken on a new rounded demeanor. A layer of pudge had accumulated around Impmon’s middle and though it only made his torso jut out a meager inch or so, it was enough to cause his midriff to jostle slightly when he made too sharp of a movement. It was clear that Impmon had gotten a little chubby.

Ben knew he should do something about it, but he still found himself walking out of the living room and refilling Impmon’s glass with fresh lemonade. He knew he was going to have to intervene at some point, but right now a content, lazing Impmon was better than a raging, unhappy one...

~~~~~

“Hurry up!” Impmon called as he jogged along the sidewalk ahead of Ben. Despite the pleas from his digimon, Ben maintained his walking pace. He knew Impmon was going to get far, a fact that was clearly evident just looking at the digimon: Impmon was downright chunky. Ever since Ben had first noticed pudge accumulating on his digimon’s frame, Impmon just couldn’t seem to keep the pounds off, no thanks to Ben.

Over the last few weeks, Impmon had only grown more demanding and as such Ben had grown even more passive and enabling. When they had run out of candy in the house, Impmon had made Ben go to the grocery store and buy more, along with more junk food, pastries, and other savory treats. Where once the fridge had been filled with soy milk and asparagus, it now housed bottles upon bottles of soda, leftover pizza, and takeout boxes, and even a multitude of half eaten cakes and pies that would not exist long in this world; Impmon would devour them soon enough.

Not only had Impmon been eating less and less healthily, but his sweet tooth was prompting him to steadily eating more and more with each passing day. While it was normal for anyone to want a second slice of decadent pumpkin cheesecake, they often had the self-control to keep themselves from indulging. Impmon either didn’t have any self-control or wasn’t apt to use it. When he finished a slice of cheesecake, he immediately asked for another from Ben. Ben knew that he had all the power to say no to his digimon, but he’d eventually find himself giving Impmon another slice, and another and another.

Each time he did, he reinforced the notion that whatever Impmon asked for, he could get and as such, a sense of entitlement and greed had been steadily bubbling to the surface; he was becoming a spoiled brat of a digimon. One slice of cheesecake would become four just become the digimon knew he could get them. Even when his stomach was straining after the third slice he’d power through and eat another just because he knew that Ben would get it for him.

Because he was stuffing himself to the brim every meal, each day his stomach, and appetite, seemed to expand ever so slightly, allowing him to cram more calories-incarnate down his throat fueling the snowballing cycle. Thus, since the digimon did little more than sit on his rump at all waking hours of the day, it came as no surprise as the pounds packed on.

As Ben stared ahead at the jogging Impmon a few sidewalk squares ahead of him, he could see the digimon’s purple plump rear as it bounced up and down with each of his plodding steps. His hips had rounded considerably, corresponding to his thicker haunches and plumper calves. Ben could see the hefty layer of pudge jostling along the digimon’s lower limbs as he pounding away on the pavement as well as his tail which looked more like a stuffed sausage than a combat assistant. The set of love handles that had formed along Impmon’s sides also jostled violently, only partially distracting Ben from the bulging edges of the small gut that jutted out of the digimon’s torso. It splayed wide enough to the sides that Ben could see it bouncing up and down even from behind.

Though Impmon was facing away from him, Ben could still hear his deep reverberating wheeze, a product of the set of moobs that were starting to weigh down his chest but also because the digimon was already starting to tire. Though he still sported the athletic confidence of a digimon primed for competition, Impmon was anything but. Lugging around the sixty or so extra pounds on his frame would have been exhausting, but couple that with the fact that he had been sitting on his rump for the last month or more, consequently causing his once proud musculature to atrophy, and the digimon was truly struggling.

Impmon’s jog looked clumsy and slow, as the extra weight had thrown off his usual sense of balance for the motion. Couple that with the burning sensation growing in his legs and the digimon was soon slowing ahead of Ben. Impmon stopped and hunched over at the knees as Ben walked up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. The digimon had his tongue lulled out of the side of his mouth as he caught his breath. Eventually, Impmon straightened back up, and as he did so Ben noticed something else. Had Impmon grown taller?

While before the digimon had barely come up to his torso, his head now lingered around his tamer’s chest line. Ben considered the observation as he looked up and saw their destination: Carol’s Quinoa. Ben had told Impmon he was going to take him out to eat and the moment he mentioned food, the digimon had been up and off the couch faster than he had seen him move in a long time. Of course, Ben hadn’t mentioned they were going to a vegan restaurant, but he figured he’d deal with that surprise when it came. As they approached the eatery, Impmon suddenly took off again ahead of Ben. Was he really that excited for grilled vegetables and salad? Suddenly, Impmon veered into a door just before Carol’s Quinoa causing Ben to raise a momentary eyebrow until he saw the sign: Big Boy’s Burgers.

Ben audibly sighed as he rushed in after Impmon, finding the digimon already standing in line. Ben walked up to him and Impmon gave him a sideways glance and scoffed.

“Took you long enough,” Impmon said.

“I actually had a reservation next door…” Ben started to say.

“Well we’re already here, aren’t we,” Impmon said dismissively.

“Do you really think you should be eating here?” Ben asked meekly.

“What do you mean? The burgers here are supposed to be amazing!”

“Don’t you think you should be cutting back on burgers and fries and going on a…”

“On a what?” Impmon turned with his arms across over his chest. Ben could see his chest splaying slightly around his thicker arms, highlighting just how soft the digimon had become in recent weeks; even his handkerchief seemed to sink into his softer neck.

“On a diet,” Ben said.

“Psst,” Impmon scoffed. “A diet? Get real. I’m not going on a diet and starving myself just so you can get rid of all the rotting spinach in the fridge.”

“But you might…” Ben started to say before Impmon stepped forward to the counter where an unamused teenager stood behind the cash register. “… lose some weight...”

“I’ll take two number 4’s and a large milkshake,” Impmon said.

“Will that be all?” the teenager said.

“I’ll take the Burger-Salad combo,” Ben said, eliciting an eye roll from his digital companion as Ben handed the cashier his credit card. After grabbing his receipt, the two stepped over into the pickup line. After just a minute, Impmon began to tap his foot impatiently on the ground, the shockwave of which caused his rounded torso to jostle slightly.

“What is taking so long?” Impmon demanded.

“We just ordered,” Ben said, trying to console his impatient digimon.

“Well it’s a fast food joint, that means the foods is supposed to come out fast!”

“It’ll come out soon enough.”

“Well, I want it now!” Impmon huffed. Not ten seconds later, another weary-eyed teen brought a large red tray to the counter and called Ben’s order number. Before he had a chance to step forward and grab the tray, Impmon rushed around from behind him like an excited child on Christmas day. The digimon must not have been fully aware of his broader size and incidentally hip checked Ben causing him to stumble to the side before he caught himself. Impmon didn’t seem to notice as he hoisted the tray up with a grunt and turned to find a table.

“Grab the milkshake,” Impmon said sternly as he strode passed by Ben, motioning toward his tower cup of sweet cream still on the counter. With a sigh, Ben grabbed the milkshake and his own empty fountain drink. He moseyed over to the soda machine and poured himself some unsweetened ice team before turning toward the seating area. It took him a second to spot Impmon sitting down in the corner and before Ben had even walked across the room and sat down himself, Impmon was already stuffing half a double quarter pound cheeseburger into his maw. A stream of grease ran down the front of his chin as he chewed vigorously, swallowed, and shoveled more of his morsel into his mouth. As Ben went to put the milkshake down, Impmon ripped it from his hand and took a long, loud slurp from his straw; washing down the grease with icy sugar-incarnate.

Ben scoured the mound of fires and cardboard burger containers, spotting his own small hamburger and the accompanying salad. He grabbed the Caesar salad first and began to pick away at its sterile lettuce, sparse cheese, and spongy croutons, hoping that Impmon would take notice. A part of Ben hoped that Impmon would see him eating the healthy assortment of greens and would start a trend back to his once nutritious diet. Then he could steadily shed that extra layer of pudge and get back into fighting shape. Instead, as Ben crunched away at his salad, Impmon took the opportunity to snag his tamer’s burger. Before Ben could pipe up and complain, his burger had been crammed between the now bloated cheeks of his digimon who continued on to one of his heaping pouches of fries as if nothing had happened.

In just the span of five minutes, Impmon had down the entirety of his first double quarter pounder meal, Ben’s burger, and half his milkshake, enough food to last a normal digimon at his size an entire day but Ben could still see a ravenous look in his eye. Without skipping a beat, Impmon reached for his second burger and began to chow down on it one massive bite at a time. Ben could hear the digimon’s belly growling, though he couldn’t imagine that they were still the echoing songs of hunger. Despite the massive bites Impmon was taking, he looked like he was forcing his jaws to chew and struggling to swallow more hardy mouthfuls; he was stuffed. He was full but he was still eating; his tongue just craved more!

Having finished his own salad, Ben just watched as Impmon slowly demolished his second course, ironically feeling his own belly rumble from his own meager meal while his smaller counterpart gorged. Impmon began to huff and grunt as he stuffed the last dozen fries into his maw. His movements were reserved and his stomach seemed to bulge to ever so slightly more out of his torso. Ben didn’t know how many thousands of calories that Impmon had just shoveled down his gullet, and though he wanted to think that maybe the digimon just need those calories to fuel this recent growth spurt of his, Ben knew that come tomorrow, all those calories were going to make their way onto his digimon’s frame. He was going to have even more pounds to worry about shaving off Impmon, not to mention cementing even further the digimon’s growing gluttonous habits.

Tomorrow, Ben thought. That was when he was going to put his foot down and get Impmon back on track. Tomorrow…

~~~~~

“I want that, and that, and, ooo… and that!” Impmon said as he and Ben plodded through the carnival freeway. Impmon was pointing to one food stand after another, each tossing out candied apples, fried dough, and onion rings out of their windows to hungry customers faster than seemed humanly possible; Ben spotted a few digimon helping out their carny tamers. Ben didn’t want to keep giving Impmon all the sugary treats he was asking for, but he didn’t have a choice.

Impmon would veer into the crowd and be snacking on a bloomin’ onion before Ben could say anything. He’d then have to fish out his wallet and pay and by the time he turned back around, Impmon was half across the freeway grabbing a box of popcorn or soda. It was a seemingly never-ending process as Impmon indulged in all the fair food he wanted and though in any other circumstance, Ben would have been shocked at the amount of food his digital companion was packing away, he wasn’t; binges like this had become commonplace.

It had been over a month since Ben had first truly noticed Impmon’s growing gluttony at Big Boys Burgers and though he had vowed to take charge and get Impmon back on his diet, he had done no such thing. No matter how determined he was in his mind, Ben just couldn’t seem to follow through; Impmon always managed to rope him into enabling the digimon’s lethargy and greed. When he was cooking, Ben found himself making larger and larger portions of marinated meats and potatoes to satisfy Impmon’s growing appetite. When he was ordering out, he found his wallet hurting more and more as Impmon demanded not just one burger but three, not just one pork fried rice, but four, and not just one medium pizza, but two larges all for himself.

The digimon had even started grabbing food from his tamer’s plate, taking whatever food he wanted that was within reach because he could. Ben never did anything about it. He’d meekly complain but all he’d receive in response was a belch from Impmon as he continued to stuff his face. Even now, while they wandered about the carnival, as Ben went to stuff his Italian sausage into his mouth, Impmon reached up with surprising speed and ripped the morsel out of his tamer’s hand began to much on it himself.

Just a few months ago, Impmon would have been hard-pressed to be even able to reach up to Ben’s mouth, but along with his growing appetite, the digimon himself had been growing; not just outward. Whereas the purple imp had once stood around waist level, he now stood up by Ben’s neck, just a few inches shy of the two seeing eye to eye. The Impmon was the biggest of his kind that Ben, and most people, had ever seen and Ben figured that his digimon’s excessive eating had something to do with it; the calories had to go somewhere. Of course, most of the calories found their way onto Impmon’s frame, making the once lithe digital fighter into an almost unrecognizable bulbous version of himself.

Though Impmon was still shorter than Ben, he was easily twice as wide, sporting a broad waist as a consequence of his thunderous thighs. The scrawny, toned legs he once sported were long gone and in their place were a set of swollen lower appendages caked in fat. The inside of his thighs pressed together while their drooping bulk had started to engulf his knees. That along with the thick ball of pudge that was his calves had begun to make it difficult for Impmon to bend or move his legs in any nimble fashion. His movements were clumsy and slow as the digimon had to grunt as he lifted his legs; he wasn’t use to lifting and maneuvering their weighty bulks as he plodded along. The ankle weights he’d wear during training didn’t even compare. It didn’t help that he was sporting a plump rear that had begun to sag to the ground under their own weight and a gut that had bounced against the front of his upper thighs.

While part of the gut’s one foot bulging out of the digimon’s torso was due to the cramming of all the carnival foods he had been gorging on all afternoon, most of it was the fatty remnants of all of his prior feastings. His belly looked more like a large, partially deflated beach ball than the midriff of a once competitive digital fighter, as it rounded both to the front and laterally, pinching off along his sides as a growing number of love hands and fat folds that ran up toward his sagging chest and puffy underarms. Impmon’s shoulders were broad and soft, the toned definition he had spent years developing through his training long gone. The same was true of his biceps, triceps, and forearms, all which appeared as one single mass of pudge that was starting to appear dimpled along the large crease forming over the back of his elbow as even his arm fat had begun to sag. His fingers had grown chubby and plump, looking more like the breakfast sausages he ate by the dozen every morning than his once dexterous digits.

Impmon’s neck had swollen too as it now harbored a second and third chin which billowed down from his nonexistent jawline and the pair of chubby cheeks jutting out the side of his rounded face. When he wasn’t busy chewing or suckling down another tasty morsel, the digimon’s lips looked pursed and formed dimples in the side of his face where often times chocolate, sauce, grease, and sometimes just flecks of drool when he was salivating before a meal, accumulated. Impmon wasn’t just chubby, he was downright fat if not more. His girth forced other carnival goers to make a wide berth around him, but he didn’t seem to care as he munched on candy floss and guzzled liters upon liters of novelty soda.

Impmon took a long, gurgling swig through the straw of his drink and when he was done he simply dropped the cup on the ground. Ben stopped and picked up the cup but as he stood back up he paused staring at his digital companion as he shuffled ahead. He remembered a time when Impmon had moved with a notable nimble grace in training and on the battlefield, but now, with his extra bulk, his movements were looked simply cumbersome. His frame tilted back and forth as he swung his heavy legs forward and around his jostling gut; a waddle in the truest sense of the word.

Eventually snapping back to reality, Ben went after Impmon, picking up a cheese stained box that had once housed a half pound of nachos that the digimon had tossed as well. As he approached Impmon, Ben could hear the digimon wheezing, his atrophying muscles tiring from lugging around his massive bulk.

“Tired?” Ben asked as he tossed the trash in his hands into a bin, hoping that the digimon would want to head home.

“Yeah,” Impmon blubbered, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow.

“Okay, awesome, alright,” Ben said, excited. “The parking lot is just over…” Ben started to say before Impmon began to tip back toward him. With a grunt, he caught the digimon and tried to push him back up but the digimon wasn’t cooperating.

“Carry me,” Impmon said.

“The car isn’t far…”

“CARRY ME!” Impmon demand. With a sigh, Ben spread his legs and bent his knees as he wrapped his hand around the digimon’s waist. Impmon then tipped backward, picking his feet off the ground, and immediately the veins on Ben’s forehead began to pop. Impmon was even heavier than he looked! Ben, grunting, took a tentative step forward, hoping he wasn’t going to run into anyway as he couldn’t see over the top of the bulk cradled in his arms. He then took another short step then another and another. After just going a few feet, Ben felt exhausted. He was starting to sweat and his arms and legs were starting to burn, but that didn’t’ seemed to faze the content smile on Impmon’s face as licked away on an ice cream cone that Ben had no idea how the digimon had procured; he had stopped at some many concession stands it was hard to keep track what the digimon had and hadn’t eaten yet.

“Pick up the pace, slowpoke!” Impmon called down.

“I’m… *grunt… trying,” Ben huffed as he veered slowly off the main walkway toward the parking lot to the left.

“Well, try harder,” Impmon said. “I want to get home in time for the movie marathon which means you’re going to have to make me popcorn. Actual popcorn this time with extra butter! I’ll have none of that Smartfood crap!”

“Okay,” Ben said softly, his tone defeated.

“Good,” Impmon said a smirk. “I don’t want to have to say it again, but let’s get a move on! Impmon smacked Ben’s back like the digimon was ushering along a workhorse or an ox. That’s what Ben felt like in Impmon’s eyes. He was no longer the tamer of his digital companion, he was merely a beast of burden to do what Impmon pleased. Ben knew he needed to put an end to this reversal of roles, but at this point, he just didn’t know how…

~~~~~

This was it. He was going to do it! Ben was finally going to stand up for himself and confront Impmon. It had been many months in the making, but Ben knew he had to stop being so timid and passive with Impmon and finally law down the law like a tamer was supposed to do with their digital compatriots.

After hyping himself up in the kitchen he had stormed into the living room but to his surprise, Impmon wasn’t there; he almost never moved from the couch. He then heard a thud down the hall and knew that Impmon was must have been in his bedroom. He turned and began to march down the hall ready to lay down the law with Impmon, but as he passed the bathroom, he felt the floor start to vibrate. He paused as Impmon slowly plodded out of his bedroom and into the hallway. Though his feet barely moved a few inches with each of his meager, shuffling steps, all the confidence that had been building up inside of Ben instantly vanished: Impmon was huge. He hadn’t seen the digimon not sitting on his rump in front of the television for weeks, and it was clear that he had grown substantially bigger.

Ben stood paralyzed as Impmon slowly stomped his way toward him, the digimon’s enormous waist and billowing stomach nearly simultaneously touching both walls of the hallway at the same time. Each step caused the digimon’s bulk to jostle violently, with each fatty fold along his side slapping up and down and the front of his dangling stomach slapping over the top of his knees and dangling near the floor. His chest bounced on top of his belly while the tops of his doughy shoulders and his chubby cheeks slapped together as the digimon’s head seemed to have sunken into this torso. His handkerchief had long since been shredded from his weighty bulk and his gloves were not far behind. It was amazing that Impmon was even up and mobile at his size, a fact that became all too clear as Impmon came to a stop directly in front of Ben. The Impmon glared down at Ben as he now stood nearly half a foot taller than his tamer.

“Move it!” Impmon blubbered.

“N… No!” Ben stammered, clenching his fist.

“What?” Impmon asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’ve had enough!” Ben said, his recent confidence returning. “You’re going on a diet!”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Ben said. “You’re going on a diet and you’re going to start going to the gym and you’re going to lose all this weight.”

“Oh really?” Impmon asked.

“Yes, I’m putting my foot down,” Ben said, stamping his foot on the floor. “I’m your tamer and you have to listen to me!”

“Is that so?” Impmon said. For a brief moment, Ben thought that the for the first time in months that Impmon was actually going to take him seriously. Just as an accomplished smile began to creep across Ben’s face, he saw Impmon take a step forward. Before Ben could react, Impmon took another step forward and swung his bulk around.

All at once, Ben felt the warm, malleable mass press against him and force him back up against the wall. Impmon took another few shuffling steps as he positioned himself directly in front of Ben, pressing more and more of his bulk into his tamer. Ben grunted as the pressure of the flab crushed his lungs. He tried to move his arms, but they were pinned to his sides. As Impmon stepped forward, a sea of undulating purple crept in closer to his face, surrounding him as the mass jostled and rippled. He looked up and saw a wide grin spreading across Impmon’s face.

“I appreciate your faux gumption, Ben,” Impmon said. “It amuses me, but let’s be clear, you are no my tamer anymore; I’ve outgrown you. You’re powerless next to me. I could take one more step forward and completely engulf you in my pudge. You are nothing, Ben compared to me. You are nothing unless I tell you that you are something.” Ben tried to wriggle himself free and as he writhed, Impmon suddenly took a step back, causing Ben to flail to the floor, sputtering.

Before Ben could catch his breath, he looked up at the looming mass above him as Impmon raised his barrel-sized leg into the air and brought his pudgy paw down onto Ben’s midriff. The meaty appendage nearly covered Ben’s entire torso with his plump toes squirming and digging into his chest. Ben knew that Impmon wasn’t putting his entire weight down on him, but his leg was heavy enough to cause Ben to grunt. Impmon merely chuckled.

“Putting your foot down?” He blubbered. “That’s rich. Well, here’s me putting MY foot down. I will not be going on a diet. I’m not going to start working out and training again, and I’m not going to be taking orders from you ever again. I’ll be the one giving orders. Do I make myself clear?” Ben vigorously nodded his head. “Good.” Impmon lifted his leg allowing Ben to grunt and collect himself. Ben quickly rolled up against the wall as Impmon plodded by toward the living room.

“Call Pete’s Pizzeria and get my usual order. I haven’t eaten for an hour and I feel like I’m wasting away!” Impmon called back over his doughy shoulder.

~~~~~

Impmon let out a belch as he scratched the side of his gut. His eyes were half shut as he watched yet another episode of the reality show blaring on the television. He had been watching the show all day yet despite that he could hardly remember anything that had been happening on screen; hence the point of a mindless show. He had instead concerned himself more with the growls from his gut that had awoken in the first place in the morning, a deeply seeded hunger that Impmon knew he wasn’t going to truly satisfy; he still enjoyed trying though.

He had chowed down on nearly three dozen pancakes and waffles for breakfast, washing it all down with two gallons of orange juice. He had then snacked on three jumbo boxes of donuts from the coffee shop down the street and then demolished basically everything left in the fridge and pantry for lunch; he had essentially eaten everything in the house. As such, Ben had left to go to the grocery store for the third time that week and it was only Wednesday, leaving Impmon behind on the couch, not that the digimon could have joined him anyway.

Impmon’s rear splayed across the entire length of the couch beneath him burying both his tail and the cushions under a sea of purple bulk. His stomach billowing forth and resting on the ground in front of him, burying his tree trunk sized legs beneath an additional blanket of flab. His stomach splayed over the arms of the couch, forcing his arms out to the side as they were barely capable of going from the small food shelf that was the dome of his stomach to this greedy mouth. A ring of fat had formed around his head, blocking his chubby cheeks and oval-shaped head from the encroaching fat from his pillow sized moobs and broad shoulders. Impmon was beyond fat now: he was immobile.

A sea of empty chip bags and cookie wrappers lay strewn about his hulking form, all casualties from the morning’s feast. A steady flow of crumbs slowly worked their way down the cascade of fat rolls along his sides, occasionally getting caught it pockets of fat before being jarred loose by a sudden, sharp movement on the digimon’s part as he reached for another morsel to cram down his throat.

Impmon turned his head side to side, not that he was able to turn it far, in search for something to munch on. He didn’t know when Ben would be back and he was already starting to feel hungry. Then, between an empty takeout box and an old instant ramen package, Impmon saw the plastic remains of a pastry container; from Ralph’s Goods across the city. Though Impmon thought he had polished off all the boxes from Ralph’s yesterday after Ben had returned home with a literal carload of the delicacies, but he must have been mistaken: there was still a chocolate cream bun remaining.

With a grunt, Impmon rocked back and forth, working his way up to a sitting position before he twisted his bulbous frame to the side. He stretched his meaty arm toward the corner of the coffee table, an acrobatic move that the digimon had developed as his bulk had gradually hindered his movements. When his fingers grazed plastic, Impmon huffed and leaned forward a bit more, pressing his gut into his thighs just enough so he could grab the box with his pudgy digits.

An accomplished grin grew on Impmon’s face as he opened the packaging and immediately popped the treat into his maw, not paying much mind to the intriguing orange powder faintly sprinkled of the chocolate cream bun’s surface: it was probably just orange flavoring. Though Impmon didn’t taste anything citrus in his mouth, he immediately let out a moan of pleasure as the sweet chocolate coated his tongue; he loved Ralph’s. With just a few quick chomps of his jaws and swallow, the pastry disappeared down his throat, just like every other one had, and Impmon licked his fingers.

Impmon was about to turn his attention back to the television went he felt a strange tingling emanating from his middle. With a few seconds, the tingling had spread across his entire body, making the digimon pause with confusion; he had never felt this sensation before. He likened the sensation to that of his stomach when it had already reached its capacity but he continued to scarf down more grub anyway, but just under his skin across his entire body. The sensation was strongest around his belly so he put his hands on his gut and began to knead them around the soft flesh, hoping that maybe that would ease the tingling. After a few seconds of rubbing, however, Impmon stop. He focused closely on his digits; it felt like the digi-lard beneath them was moving!

He grabbed a handful of pudge and instantly he could feel a pressure forcing his fist open as if more fat was instantaneously appearing on his frame. Impmon gasped and released his gut only now noticing that his belly was slowly rising in front of him. Not only that, but he felt his own head slowly rising up to; he was putting on weight! Steadily faster and faster, the pounds seemed to materialize on his already immobile frame. His belly spilled more and more over the sides of the couch and pressed forward along the floor. When it bumped up against the coffee table, his pudge merely pushed it forward along with it; nothing was going to slow it down!

“Ben…!” Impmon called, his already blubbery voice garbled as fat from his chest pressed up against the bottom of his jaw, squishing his multiple chins and making it more difficult to open his maw to speak. Impmon heard a creak beneath him as the couch suddenly gave under his rapidly increasing girth, though his body didn’t seem to fall. Instead, his rump seemed to expand in tune with the collapsing furniture, growing broader and taller with each passing second.

In a panic, Impmon tried to find something to grab onto, to steady himself, but his arms were thickening up to, to the point that they could no longer bend. The pudge from his torso seemed to be swallowing them up, covering his shoulder and elbow rendering them useless points of articulation. He could feel the same thing happening to his legs. Even though there were already too massive and weak to support his bulk, they swelled with pudge beneath his gut, forming single stalks of fat that would have taken industrial hydraulics to bend or mobilize. Impmon whimpered as his head approached the ceiling and stomach began to press against the television stand in front of him.

Just when he thought the gaining would never stop, the tingling sensation subsided, leaving the digimon not only immobile but effectively the size of a blimp. He tried to move but the motions were futile and only served to caused his thick flabby exterior to slosh and jostle violently from side to side. Just then, he heard the front door open.

“Ben…!” He blubbered. Impmon could just barely turn his head enough to see the entryway to the kitchen and saw Ben walk in and freeze. “You need to help me!” Impmon said. “I’m too big! I can’t move!” Impmon saw Ben walked forward and felt a sense of relief wash over him; Ben would figure something out. That relief quickly vanished when Ben fished around the plastic bag in his hand and pulled out a small plastic container. Impmon’s eyes went wide; it was from Ralph’s!

“What’s the matter, Impmon?” Ben asked as he began to climb up the digimon’s side. Impmon grunted s his pudge gave way to his tamer’s hands and feet as he pulled himself up to eye level with the digimon. Ben held up the plastic container with the familiar chocolate cream bun inside; complete with the same orange powder finish as before. As Ben opened the box and the smell of chocolate hit Impmon’s nose, his stomach instinctively growled.

“Hungry?” Ben asked.

“No, I’m fine,” Impmon said trying to recoil as much as his suffocating flabby neck would allow as Ben pushed the pastry toward his mouth.

“But you’re always hungry,” Ben said. “You’ve never turn anything that you could cram down your gullet before. You always just keep eating and eating and eating and though I blame myself for enabling you, I’ve come to accept you for who you are: a spoiled blubber bottom. I figured that if you wanted to indulge, why not indulge to the extreme? Luckily our friends over at Ralph’s have just the thing for that, for digimon like you!” Before Impmon could react, Ben opened his jaw and stuffed the chocolate cream bun into his maw. “Now eat up. I found us a competition across the city for the biggest digimon by type.” Ben slid down Impmon’s side as he heard the digimon’s belly start to rumble as he began to swell again.

“If you’re going to be a pig of a digimon then you’re going to be an awarding winning pig!”

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