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Bigger than He Bargained For

Part One

By Shalion

Terry was nineteen, lived in the back of his parents' bakery, had no girlfriend, and had dropped out of college after two semesters. He did not have very many things going for him at this point in life, which is probably why he became interested in demonology.

The young fox rested crosslegged in the center of his bedroom. He was uncomfortable for several reasons. First of all, he had just spent the last hour and a half pushing all the furniture in the small room against the walls to make room for the summoning circle and drawing the damn thing in chalk while crawling around on his knees. Second, the position itself was not very comfortable, or at least, it wasn't anymore... Terry tried pushing his chunky calves closer together as they were forced apart by massive thighs and scratched at some raw stretch marks covering the side of his ridiculous belly as he consulted the laser-printed instructions he had found on the internet.

"Great Devourer, Endless Hungerer, hear me!" Terry cried into the flickering darkness of his candlelit ceiling, but not too loudly. His parents were probably asleep in the other room, or possibly doing it - they always seemed to get worked up in the week leading to Valentine's Day - but Terry didn't want to think about that. "I call upon Belphegor, Lord of Greed, Master of Flesh!"

There... did the light dim a bit? Terry's ample chest was heavy and he was too warm, though that was unsurprising given the physical labor to which he had recently subjected his obese frame. He scratched again at the side of his gut and looked down at his worn sheaf of notes, re-reading the margins. "Fifteenth time is the charm..." he muttered under his breath and then cleared his throat.

"You're... h-humble..." Terry's hand slipped to his burgeoning front as his stomach churned uneasily inside of his bulky midsection. The fox gulped hard, unsure how much longer he could keep doing this if the demon failed to show up again. The youth was uncomfortably aware of the weight of his man-boobs and large double chin as they wobbled unsteadily when he leaned forward and took several deep breaths to steady his aching belly. Terry had deliberately gained almost 200 pounds in the course of the last year and he did not wear the weight well. He had always been rather chubby, but with his current weight pushing 450 pounds, he was very uncomfortable in his own skin. The fact that his threadbare spellrobe was riding high where the sun didn't shine did not help matters.

As the bout of nausea, undoubtedly caused by the two dozen frosted doughnuts he had forced himself to choke down after dinner, passed, he began again, "Your humble servant begs your favor!" He bowed low again, but this time in prayer rather than tummy aches. But even as his head lowered and his gargantuan stomach slid forward in his lap, something gave in the tight fabric constricting his sides, an audible riiiiiip flowed up his right side like someone undoing a zipper.

"Fuck!" Terry cursed, hoping that the demon or evil spirits did not mind the curse as he reached a thick arm towards where his fur was spilling out the side of his too-tight garment. He lifted his head and moaned softly because his mother was cutting his allowance in half until he dropped at least 100 pounds. He couldn't possibly afford another robe, let alone one four or five sizes larger than this one. "Come on, Belphegor!" he said petulantly to his ceiling. "I've already turned myself into this blob to show my devotion, what else do you want?" Terry lifted his arms up, feeling how the flesh coating his upper arms rippled and dangled low, dancing over the wide soft surface of the sides of his tits.

The silence following his cry was deafening and Terry found himself letting his head flop forward, chin sinking into his mass of double chin. Before he knew it, he was crying, and he did not feel at all like a discoverer of the hidden secrets behind the skin of the world. Rather, he felt like a boy sitting in the middle of a messy room, a boy who had failed to become a man.

Wallowing in self-pity, Terry could think of nothing else to do but move on to the second phase of the ritual, a long silent meditation. That suited the fox fine because his eyelids were getting heavy anyways...

Terry stood in darkness. He assumed his eyes were still shut because there was nothing to see around him, but looking down, saw the familiar shape of his curvaceous white chest fur. He wasn't wearing any clothes, which was actually something of a relief because none of his cloths fit him anymore. But around him there was... nothing, just an empty dark void.

"Terry..." said a voice which seemed both near and far away.

The fox whipped around for the source, nearly stumbling on the pliant surface under his clawed feet. Naturally there was nothing to see, but Terry's heart leapt in his chest as he remembered what he had been doing before falling asleep.

"B-Belphegor?" he asked hopefully.

When the voice spoke again, it seemed much closer, as if the fox should have been able to see him if there was more light. "Well, I should hope so, for your sake, little morsel."

Terry was too overcome with emotion to be fazed by being called either 'little' or a 'morsel.' "Oh my god! It finally worked, you're here!"

If a disembodied voice could crack an expression, this one did so. "I'd avoid mentioning the g-word in my presence, if you don't mind."

"Oh my..." Terry stammered, barely catching himself, "S-sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Of course not." said the demon, moving around the fox in a smooth circle. "It's just an expression." As Terry relaxed slightly and shifted his considerable weight to his other paw, the demon went on, "Now, you should probably tell me what you want."

"What I want!" Terry exclaimed, and in the excitement of the payoff of his year-long dive into demonology, he could not exactly find the words to express why he had started down this path in the first place. "What I want..." Terry trailed off, lowering his hands to his fattened sides. "I mean, well, the regular stuff I suppose. Money, power... a girlfriend...?" he added the last hopefully. Despite putting on so much weight in a short time, that hadn't seemed to dampen the young man's 'healthy' libido at all.

"Right, the usual then..." chuckled the voice in the dark as it seemed to take several steps back.

Terry followed gingerly, but stopped suddenly as he felt a hard poke to his soft gut which was not only large, but hanging enough to nearly cover his entire groin these days. "And the ladies are into big, sagging bellies these days, I take it?"

"Ow!" Terry complained, reaching for the sore spot on his tummy. "No, I mean, I wasn't really thinking about that when I started all this." the young man grabbed the side of his liberally hanging belly. "It said online that you respond to people who overeat and gain weight, but I wasn't really expecting to get so... big before you showed up."

The voice in the dark was quiet a moment and Terry was frightened that he had offended it. His fear increased as the voice said darkly, "If you didn't want to be plump, why didn't you pray to some other demon?" Terry could have sworn the darkness rolled its eyes, so he answered quickly.

"My parents run a bakery and, and it just..." he swallowed, "...seemed easier, I guess. I mean, I didn't really want to go around kidnapping sacrifices or cutting off bits of myself."

"Hmph, so it seemed easier, huh?" The voice swirled around Terry and the obese fox felt whisper-soft fingers caressing the fur on his fat frame. "Look kid, this is cute and all, and I love how you've fucked up your life to get this far, but I'm a goddamn Prince of Sheol." There seemed to be a flash of non-light, almost violet, in the darkness and Terry saw just the barest glimpse of unfathomable things around him. "I'm not a hobby, or a quick fix for your dumb life decisions."

The world around him, though dark, seemed to begin to fade. Panicking, Terry cried, "Belphegor! I, I do devote myself to you!" Terry felt his paws land back on whatever soft surface he had been standing on, reality, or whatever this was, coming back into focus. "I get it. You're a god of gluttony, and I'm not going to have abs or a beach body. I don't care! I'll put on another 200 pounds if that works for you!" Terry was wide-eyed as he stared into the darkness, desperate for the only thing in his life he had left to grab onto. The demon saw the hunger in his eyes.

"Well that's a start..." said the demon quietly into his ear. The dark swirled around Terry, growing closer, almost like a giant hand fondling the softness of his body. "Of course, I generally just expect that in the course of things. What do you have to give me in return for the riches of your world... and a girlfriend?"

Terry ignored the soft chuckling of the demon. "Um... give?" the fox murmured. He reached up to scratch the fur on the top of his head. "I thought putting on the weight was the cost."

"Cost? My boy, that chubby little body of yours is a side benefit! A mark of my favor, or at least it could be. No, no, I'm going to need more than that..."

Terry gulped hard, looked down at his naked self, which was mostly boobs and belly at this point. He realized just now that it had been a long time since he had last seen his toes. "Um... how about one of my fingers?" he said, wincing, "Preferably one of the smaller ones..."

The demon snorted, "Nice try, but that's a little outside my domain, kid." the swirling dark landed on the fox's shoulders like the arm of a large man. "Listen, I get that you're new at this and to be frank, you're not that bright either." Terry's ears flicked at this, but he said nothing. "But unlike some places, we're not picky down here, so I'll tell you what. I'll consider your request and all I ask in return is... this."

Terry jumped as he felt an invisible, but larger-than-life hand grab his paunch, holding nearly all of its considerable mass between fingers like fat water pipes and kneading the ample flesh. "My... body? You want to possess me?" the fox spoke unsurely, though he was aware that something like this might have come up.

"Not all of it, just the part I care about." said the demon, still fondling Terry's oversized gut. "I mean, it's not like you value this part of you anyways, am I right?"

Terry didn't. In fact, it had been a little hard looking at himself in the mirror lately and seeing the extent of the damage he had done to himself by acting as the bakery's dumpster for the past year. "So... I give you my flab, and in return, you'll grant my wish?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, young thing." said the demon, letting go finally. "Let's just take this as an opportunity to see if you're compatible with my organization." There was a sound like the clicking of a tongue. "Think of it as an internship."

"An internship?" Terry sighed as he screwed up his face into an expression of mild disgust. He had eventually been kicked out of every internship he had ever had, though an internship with a demon sounded considerably cooler than any he had tried before.

"A trial run, a probationary period, whatever..." said the demon, handwaving... somehow. Its attention returned to the naked young fox. "What do you say to that?"

Terry considered the vague proposition offered by the formless demon. He also considered the state of his life, his health, and the fact that his parents now thought of him as the obese loser who lived in the spare room of their bakery. "I say there's only really one way to go from where I'm at now." said the young man.

"Not the sharpest tool in the shed, but one has to respect a willingness to try new things." the demon cooed, "Now, for the price of admission..."

The presence seemed to recede into the infinite black surrounding Terry. At the same time, he felt a tugging on his body, not unlike the invisible hand which had groped him a moment ago, but this time the tugging was harder and not just on his belly. There was a force pulling at the plump fleshiness that covered the large fox's entire body and the pulling eventually became a tearing even as Terry watched his skin lurch ahead of him as if he were suspended by the skin of his back. The soft bulk of his front stretched forward like taffy while his plump back and ass ran like water towards the front of him. The skin emptied and flowed all over his frame like running water, gathering into an orange and white furred mass directly in front of him. "Ughn..." the fox groaned as his fat literally tore itself free of him in just a second or two.

There was a squelch, and Terry reflexively wrapped his arms about his chest as he was assaulted by a sudden chill, only his arms missed. Terry was left grasping air to either side of his rib cage while his elbows collided with his forearms, surprisingly painful! Terry lifted his black furred hands, barely recognizing the elongated, skeletal digits. He placed his hand on his hollow chest, easily felt the painfully prominent ribs; Terry had forgotten he even had ribs! And then his eyes moved to the soft mass of blobby fur at his feet. It was a large heap of dense flesh and easily outweighed him now at least two or three times over. It did not take Terry long to realize, however, that more than just skin and fat had been taken from him. He felt weak, in fact his knees were shaking with the effort of supporting his skeletal frame. Much of his musculature, his vitality, had been separated from him as well. Terry had never felt so drained or empty in his life.

"Hmph, if Mom could see me now..." the fox murmured under his breath as he carefully wrapped his skeletal arms about the bones of his rib cage and sunken abdomen which stretched inwards like dry leather on a mummy. But the more time he spent emaciated like this, the less he felt the humor of the situation. He could not have weighed much more than 70 pounds, but his boney legs seemed to have almost no strength in them to keep him upright. The ubiquitous weak feeling was worse than any flu Terry had known and he was already looking down at the blob of his former fat with a craving and envy he never would have guessed he would have a minute ago. He nudged the shapeless mass with his clawed toe... and retreated several steps as it began to squirm and pulse.

Besides his own body and the blob, there was nothing to see in this place, so Terry watched transfixed as the heavy mass of soft flesh warped and twisted on itself, eventually rising like an eel from its oozing form. The blob of fat and skin pulled itself up into a very rough humanoid shape with a rounded head and arms indicated only by fat rolls creasing from the simulated torso. There were no legs and the face was a flat plane of white fur framed by orange. The flesh golem waited before Terry and eventually the fox took a couple steps forward, if only because he would shortly be unable to stand at all.

"Belphegor?" he asked trepidatiously, still shaking both from weakness and being too cold without any insulating meat on his body.

The golem looked at him, though it lacked eyes. Then it spoke, though it lacked a mouth. "Sorry, bud. The big guy is too busy to deal with a shrimp like you, so you're going to be stuck with me for a while."

Terry's ears drooped, but part of him actually felt a bit relieved that he would not be possessed by an actual prince of hell... "What, what did Belphegor call it again?" the fox wondered, only to realize he had not been paying close enough attention earlier. Well, it did seem at least that the demon-lord intended for his literal fat to be possessed rather than his entire body, and that seemed easier to deal with despite how terribly he felt at this moment.

"A-and who... are you, exactly?" asked Terry, fumbling his words as he forced his rail-like frame to remain upright.

The fat golem snorted. "Your partner, of course!" The golem huffed and crossed its arms, though the appendages more or less rolled across its surface like a wave. It spoke again as it studied Terry's expression "What, did you want more than that?"

"A... a name would be a good st-start." said Terry and realized he was feeling rather faint. He gripped his empty ribs to keep his cold hands from shaking.

"A name!" the golem exclaimed, seemingly without pity for the fox's poor condition. It leaned forward, the torso bending bonelessly and folding at the fatty base where it rose like a pillar. "You ought to be more careful going around asking for people's names. Folks might get offended."

Terry stood still for a long awkward pause, taking deep breaths as he gripped his sharp ribs as firmly as he could. "Are... you offended?" he breathed finally. Terry found himself slipping forward slightly, but managed to rebalance himself with his long tail.

The golem took a moment to react, but then it lifted the lump of its head, the 'face' becoming a friendlier looking concave indent. "Nah, bud. I mean, we're gonna be working together and to tell you the truth, I'm new at this too. Call me Beel."

"Alright, Beel." said Terry quickly as he struggled to remain upright. He carefully unfolded a stick-like arm and gestured at himself, the golem, and the surrounding dark. "So, like, am I going to be a stick when I wake up or..." his voice weakened and trailed off. Terry took another breath, "...I don't really know how this works."

The golem composed of 'healthy' meat of his body chuffed. "Don't worry, you'll be feeling 100% here in a minute, better in fact. You don't even need to think too hard about this whole arrangement."

That sounded really suspicious, but Terry was not really in a state to consider it as his blood sugar plummeted. At least the promise of feeling better sounded good, though the silence lengthened between them. Terry placed his hands on his pelvis, feeling the sharp bones there through the skin for virtually the first time. He leaned forward slightly, breathing harder than ever as his legs shook like mexican jumping beans from trying to hold himself up. "Yeah, how about that... that feeling better... thing...?" he said stupidly.

"Just another minute or so..." said the golem and Terry lifted his eyes up to see it towering over him, even though they were exactly the same height.

"I feel like I'm... dying over here." Terry gulped.

"Welp, that's the point really." said Beel.

"What... point...?" the fox huffed and then placed his hands on his uncontrollably shaking knees.

"It's important for you to know."

"Know what?" Terry gasped.

"Exactly what you are without me." said the... whatever that was in control of his former flesh.

Terry tried to straighten back up, but lacked the strength. His bony non-ass tilted backwards and eventually even his tail couldn't help him regain his balance. The fox fell back, and kept falling into the black.

Terry awoke with a gasp, flailing all limbs against the floor of his bedroom. The young fox clutched at his chest, neck and belly, quickly confirming that all 450 pounds of himself was still there. He had never been so glad to confirm that he was a humongous fat ass. Looking around, Terry saw the smudged chalk and the burnt-out candles. The light in the window indicated that it was early in the morning; his parents would probably begin firing up the bakery soon. The fox rolled onto his belly and got up, feeling surprisingly good for having collapsed and slept on the hardwood floor all night.

As Terry worked to get his bedroom back into order, he realized that he really did feel good, unusually so, in fact. Having put on so much weight in a short time, Terry had become extremely adverse to manual labor, so when he was able to push around his dresser and bookshelf easily and without getting out of breath or developing a cramp, he noticed right away. In fact, his whole body felt rather invigorated, slightly tingly even, especially around his calves and lower back.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" said a voice which caused Terry to jump and toss an armful of clothing up and onto the ceiling fan.

"Ah! Who's there?!" he said, whipping around as fast as his fat frame allowed. A pair of 5 XL underwear fell from the ceiling fan to drop onto his head which in turn caused the fox to bark his hanging belly against the frame of the bed.

"Easy, tiger!" said the same voice, and Terry realized that it was not in his head, but rather coming from just beside his ear.

Ripping the undergarment away, he used his free hand to reach for the plump flesh beside his thick neck, almost expecting a gruesome mouth to have formed there, but there was only soft fur and skin. Terry sighed as he relaxed from his vexed state, taking a seat on the hardwood chest at the base of his bed; it groaned under his bulk as he rubbed at the bruised flab on his lower belly.

"So it was all real?" he said to no one in particular, half hoping it was a dream and half desperate for it to be true.

"As real as it can be." said the voice near his ear.

Terry slapped at his shoulder again, as if he could catch the transformation of his fatty shoulder, but he only succeeded in smacking the dense flesh of himself.

"Hey, easy on the goods!" said Beel. "You did a number on the gut as well, and I'm not too happy about that..." and as the spirit spoke, Terry felt something ripple in his lower belly which currently sat on his right thigh, a thigh thicker around than his waist had been in his emaciated state.

"Ugh, don't do that!" cried the fox who was definitely unused to the sensation of his fat moving by itself.

"You better get used to it, Terry, cause we're in for the long haul. You're good and possessed now." said Beel.

Terry poked at his sizable man-boob with a clawed finger. "But just the fat..." he began, but started again when the smooth surface of his fat breast rippled visibly, like someone pressing a finger up from the inside.

"Just the fat..." Beel mocked, "I'm three-quarters of your body now, kid, lest you forget that, and we still have a long way to go."

"Go?" asked Terry uncertainly, but with a sinking sensation in his adolescent heart.

"Weren't you the one who suggested putting on another two-hundred?" said Beel snarkily into Terry's ear. "You really shouldn't say something like that to a god of gluttony unless you mean it."

"Oh boy..." Terry sighed as he placed a thick hand on the swollen rise of his belly in front of him. It felt just like ordinary flab, at least until it didn't. Terry's eyes felt suddenly itchy and he wiped at the corners of his snout.

"Hey, hey..." said the spirit possessing the majority of the mass in Terry's body. "It's not going to be so bad. You'll see. We're not actually in the business of ruining people's lives, you know."

"You're... not?" sniffed Terry, embarrassed to be acting half his age, yet unable to control the sense of despair he felt.

Beel sniffed, or at least simulated the sound. "You really ought to have studied more into the matter if you wanted to be a proper demonologist. But hey, I know some stuff and we're stuck together now so I'm willing to help you out."

Terry dried his eyes and let his neck sag into the fat ruff lightly framing his face. "And how do I know I can trust you?"

Beel let out a curt laugh, "Terry, it's a bit late to be worrying about that, don't ya think?"

And Terry was suddenly assaulted by the sensation of hands on his shoulders, not actually on his plump, furry shoulders, but on the muscles below them, inside his body. The hands massaged him very deeply indeed. But this time, Terry managed not to jump or even shudder at the supernatural contact, though he tried not to look at the actual fat to either side of his head.

Now that his body was no longer running on fumes, Terry found he could think more clearly and he took the spirit's meaning plainly. "I suppose it is a bit too late, huh?" he smiled grimly.

"Terry, for real, this isn't Poltergeist, and with any luck, we're both going to live for a good long time. You might even get your wish from Belphegor." Beel tapped Terry firmly on the back, again into the interior of his body. "You'll see that I'm the person you can most trust in this world, cause our interests are aligned now. If you die, I die. It's as simple as that."

Terry found himself wishing he had read more of the demonology book he had found online, but he realized that it really was too late to back out now. He still was not sure what exactly Beel even was, but perhaps that did not really matter too much in the immediate short term.

Terry opened his mouth to start asking the spirit inhabiting his bulky body more questions, but was interrupted by the sounds of footsteps on stairs outside his room.

"Terry, you better be getting that big butt of yours out of bed to help make the bagels!" his father boomed from the stairway. Terry's ears fell out of habit.

"Hey, buck up." said Beel immediately, "Today's the first day of the rest of our lives."

Terry stood up straight, noticing the lack of effort or even the sound of his joints popping, and took a moment to stretch his legs and even bend over as much as he could; his spine did pop that time, though, with a hundred pound sack of fox lard dangling from his front. "I guess it is." said Terry before he stepped out of his bedroom.

The obese fox worked in his skivvies in the back of the bakery most of the day. That was not a regular uniform naturally, but Terry's folks had given up trying to find suitable clothes for their son once he could no longer find large enough clothing inside the 'Big & Tall' section of the local department store. But Terry preferred to walk around bare chested and belly wobbling rather than cram himself into too-tight clothing anyways. So, it was not too long before the orange fur edging his mostly white midsection was dusted with flour and powdered sugar while he sported a few pink and yellow frosting stains on the otherwise blank canvas of his front. But the adolescent fox hardly noticed, he was having the best day working for his parents that he'd ever had.

Since he had put on so much weight in the past year, Terry had been getting very tired working in the bakery. In fact, since his fat ass had topped 450 pounds, he had been finding the manual labor almost impossible to perform for more than an hour at a time. His back and paws would hurt and he would develop cramps in his calves just from standing because he was so heavy. Now though, those aches and pains were totally gone!

It did not seem to matter at all that he still felt the same weight on his feet, Terry moved around the back of the bakery like he weighed 300 pounds less than he did. "Haven't felt this good in years!" Terry remarked when he had a spare moment and his mother and father were out front hawking bagels and breakfast sandwiches.

"What did I tell ya? Belphegor wouldn't leave you hanging." said Beel, again whispering into his ear from his shoulder. Terry wiped his smudged forehead with a thick forearm and the spirit spoke again, "Of course, now that you've had a taste of what this'll be like, you can give me a little reward as well..."

"And what's that exactly?" asked the obese fox as he lowered his arm.

His belly rumbled audibly, almost uncomfortably loud in fact, but the noise was not coming from the fox's stomach so much as his abdomen itself. Beel continued rumbling ravenously into his ear as he said, "Breakfast!"

Terry swallowed, but his own reserves were weakening at this point, already somehow adjusting to the way things were going to be now. Really, it did not seem so bad considering his deliberate bad habits from before. Terry carefully rolled an extra tray of bagels and placed them into the oven. He'd need to replace the ones he was already gathering into his fat hands.

"Don't forget the butter!" Beel snapped and Terry waddled obediently over to the refrigerator with a sigh.

"Of course." he said, rolling his eyes. What else was he expecting? Although... one never really could pass up the taste of a bagel fresh out of the oven, or two or three or a dozen...

"Terry..."

The fat fox looked up from his video game console, an apple strudel dangling from the side of his mouth as his father approached. He could have put the pastry aside, but instead he forced it down with a hard swallow, mostly out of habit; The fox's overfull stomach churned inside of him and he could not help a hiccup.

"Hic! Oh hey, Dad, what's up?" Terry stammered as he paused the game and brushed crumbs out of the valley between his swollen man-tits. He tried to sound nonchalant, but was terrified at the conversation his father might want to have with him. It had been a week since being possessed by Beel, and as expected, it had not done his waistline any favors. In fact, he had already gained another nine pounds! Terry had been hoping that, with as fat as he already was, it wasn't too noticeable.

Terry's father, who weighed less than half of his prodigious son at this point, took a seat beside him. Actually, he took a seat on the couch's broad arm because Terry took up pretty much all of the space on the two-seater. He clapped his hand on Terry's round, plump shoulder. It was a little weird since the obese fox still wasn't wearing a shirt, but everyone in the house was not pretty used to seeing a lot of fox fur on display. He rubbed the soft flab of his son's shoulder thoughtfully, pausing as if searching for the right words.

"You know, we've been hard on each other since you came back home, and I don't know if we could have done things different. I should'a talked to you earlier this week... its not good that we stopped talkin'"

Terry's ears perked in surprise. He'd once had a decent relationship with his father, but that had quickly changed with his repeated failures at college and starting a career. "Dad, it's... alright." He struggled to say. It wasn't really alright, but Terry would have given anything to have that easy affection and support he had once enjoyed from both of his parents.

His father nodded slowly, looked down at the ground and then back to Terry's face, seemingly bouncing off of the low swell of belly fat welling between the fox's knees. "Son, you've put us in a tough position. We've talked about that, but that's not what I want to say now." The older fox's large ear twitched and he pressed his canine lips together. "I don't really know what's got into you this week, but I just wanted to say its good to see you finally busting ass, an'... an'" he screwed up his expression just a little, "Since we weren't talkin' I haven't told you, you was doin' a good job, an' I want you to keep doing a good job for the bakery."

Terry's father exhaled and pulled his hand back with a final pat to the padded shoulder. Terry barely felt it. That was the nicest thing he had heard his father say to him in almost a year.

"Dad, I..." Terry swallowed, stifling a belch that would have ruined the moment, "I want to keep working hard. I mean..." He looked away, unable to keep his eyes dry again, "I want to show both of you that I'm not a waste of space.

The older fox bit down on his finger, took a couple paces back and drew another breath. "Well you... you just keep working the bakery like you have, and things'll work out, alright?"

"Yeah." Said Terry, looking up, but he only watched his father's back as he left the living room and went upstairs.

In the silence that followed, Terry's shoulder spoke into his ear, "Well, how about that? Dad's coming around already."

"He's not your dad!" Said Terry reflexively, grabbing at the side of his paunch.

"Hey, this body is as much mine as it is yours." Said Beel and Terry's fat folded over his own paw, gripping it in turn and surprising the fox. "So he kinda is, in a sense."

Terry pulled his hand back, but the grip of the fat was surprisingly strong and his belly weighed a lot as it resisted his tugs. "Urgh! Let me go!"

The flab relaxed immediately, wobbling to a stop on his thighs like his gut hadn't just tried to eat his hand. Terry flexed his free hand worriedly, but could not help but notice the ample chunkiness coating his forearm below the wrist. He let his arm fall back to his side. "Beel, why would you want my dad? He's kind of a jerk anyways, and don't you have your own past?"

"Yeah..." sighed the spirit into Terry's ear, "That is where things get a little complicated. Things get a little... mushy there on the other side."

Terry raised an eyebrow, "You mean you don't remember your past?" His ear twitched, "Like did you used to be alive, or were you always a demon?"

"Spirit, if you don't mind." Beel sniffed, "And... I don't really know, kid. I think I was alive once... but I can't tell how long ago that was." Terry's shoulder fat rippled, "And even if I was alive once don't mean I was a person, if you get my drift." Beel subsided into a soft chuckle.

Terry decided that he would ask Beel more about that later. The spirit usually liked to deflect direct questions and kept telling him that there was plenty of time ahead of them for answers. "Well, I guess you can call him 'Dad' if you really want to." Said Terry, getting back to the original point. "But I don't know how happy he'll be once he notices how fast we're putting on weight now... He can't stand the sight of me now."

"Give the man some credit, Terry!" Said Beel and gave the fat fox a push from behind with his own flab. "And quite staring at that idiot box for a while! Go for a walk, or better yet, go get a nice, fat cheeseburger!"

Terry got up, if only to escape the feel of phantom hands on the muscles and bones of his back, his belly wobbling on top of his meaty thighs. He chuffed indignantly and placed a hand on his expansive middle. "God, I've been eating since sundown! My stomach hurts!"

"The g-word!" Beel complained as Terry waddled out of the back door of the bakery and out into the cool moonshine. He reached up to his head and smoothed down his ears and the fur there as the spirit bristled. "And I didn't say you weren't doing a bad job, kid."

Terry walked slowly down the back alley behind the bakery, consciously aware that he was barely legally dressed in just his skin-tight boxer-briefs. He hoped he would not encounter anyone before he reached the end of the block and turned back. But the night air did feel good on the fur stretching over his ample form. Surprisingly, the walk did seem to help his churning stomach settle a little.

Eventually, Beel spoke again. "Nah, you're doing pretty good actually. We've got quite the butterball thing going here. Lots of room for expansion too..."

"Ugh, don't remind me that I'm going to be an even huger fat ass..." Terry moaned.

Beel poked his fat flank. "Hey, you're going to need to own this, all of this, sooner or later cause I'm not going away." The fox sighed again, but then Beel said more reassuringly, "Besides, kid, the girls dig confidence."

Terry paused in his tracks, gesturing down to his still-wobbling belly with both hands to no one in particular. "You think girls are going to dig this?!" He cried and grabbed at the side of his paunch. "I'm a freaking whale!" He threw his fat belly down carelessly but grunted as it hit his shaft a little too hard, maybe even by accident.

"I said, take it easy on the goods, big guy!" Said Beel as Terry groaned and leaned against a cinder block wall. The fox reached between his thunder thighs and pushed up his paunch a little so it was not resting directly on his prick. As Terry was catching his breath, the spirit went on, "As for the girls, man, you know there's one for all types, more than one in our case." Terry felt Beel pat him on the back again as he collected himself and started moving again towards the end of the alley, "You'll find that there are way more girls into huge blokes than are into, say, amputees, heh, heh."

Terry continued to have a healthy dose of skepticism, but he did feel a bit more hopeful than he had a moment ago. All things considered, Beel was not too bad of a guy to have as a roommate in his own body... even if he had just smacked him in the groin with his own belly. When Terry reached the end of the alley, he stood in the shadows to hide his mostly naked form and looked out at the streetlights across town. "Not even tired." He sniffed. Just a week ago, a walk to the end of the block would have had him wheezing and likely smarting from cramps in both legs and his lower back.

"Just goes to show what a tiny dose of power from the Master of Flesh can do." Said Beel and strangely, the alien spirit seemed a little in awe himself.

Terry considered his transformation, realizing that he had been pretty much in shock for most of the past week. He gripped his sizable belly in both hands, feeling its shape and heft. He had been thinking the ten pounds he had picked up had simply vanished into his already-engorged frame, but he felt a difference now, and it was not just the extra millimeters lower down his gut sat on his dick either. He let his belly go and glanced at his upper arm, reaching across his broad chest with some effort to grasp at the upper portion. Pushing his fingers into the soft flab, Terry felt his left bicep, flexed it. He nearly gasped at the difference as he felt an almost unrecognizably large muscle respond to his command. He had noticed a drastic change in his strength, but hidden under all his tubby softness, the sheer increase in muscle mass had not been visible, still wasn't really visible and could only be felt by pressing down hard.

"I think I can see it..." Terry breathed, imagining similar changes to his legs as well, but he'd have to wait until he was home again to examine himself more carefully.

"I'm tellin' ya. This is going to work out good for both of us." Said Beel easily.

After a few more moments of enjoying the night air, Terry's belly growled loudly again, and once again, it wasn't really him.

"I know that's you." Said Terry flatly, his hands flying to his big belly. The rumbling was coming from deep inside, so the fox actually felt the vibrations brushing against and jostling his insides; the gastrointestinal grinding was very convincing, even with a bit of a hollow echo to it. But Terry could clearly feel the phenomenon occurring outside his abdominal wall, where the fat rested.

The growling boulders inside Terry cut out instantly, "Well, just think of it as my way of communicating to you that you need to step up your game. We can't always been seen talking to ourselves in public anyways."

The fat fox planted a fist on his hip. "Step up my game?" He said incredulously. "This is more weight than I've ever gained in a week!"

"Yeah, and I've let you slide so far because of that, Terry, my man." Said Beel, "But you're dealing with the literal Lord of Gluttony now, kid. Your regular fare isn't going to cut it. You're going to have to start working out that iron stomach of yours."

Terry threw his head back. "Of course..." he frumped in silence for a little while, kicking at the ground with paws he couldn't see around his giant belly. And while it was true that it was really nice being able to move around easily again, the fox could not help but think that if he had gone on a diet a year ago instead of a bender and winding up doubling his previous body weight, that he would not have needed this favor from Belphegor in the first place.

Beel seemed to take his silence for complacency because he said after a while, "Hey, there's that Italian restaurant right across that parking lot isn't there?"

Terry could feel his neck fat pushing lightly at the side of his face until he turned his head to the darkened parking lot. If he crossed behind the buildings there, he wouldn't have to expose himself to any street lamps. "Yeah?" Said the adolescent unsurely.

"How about some pasta to top us off, eh?" Said the insatiable fat of his own body.

"Beel, I don't have any clothes on." Terry sighed.

"Pssh, that don't matter if we take a quick peek at what got thrown out for dinner!" Laughed the spirit inhabiting Terry's abundant flab.

The fox recoiled, leaning his broad back against the cinderblock wall. "Ew... Ew!" He said in utter disgust. "You want me to go root around in their dumpster for trash?"

An undulation passed through Terry's midsection, like a roll of the eyes. "Terry, you should see the stuff they throw out, practically whole dishes uneaten!" The movement of Terry's fat inside of him was like hands brushing up against the buried muscles of his flanks. "At this time of night, right after dinner, all the leftovers are probably sitting on top..."

The way that Beel spoke, it actually did not sound entirely unreasonable. Probably poor people resorted to that kind of thing all the time, and Terry certainly counted as a poor person, hell he could not even afford a single shirt to cover his back! But he shook his head fiercely, clearing his thoughts. "No way, Beel. That's crossing the line. I'm not rooting around in garbage like a literal pig."

"Heh, if only you knew, kid..." the spirit laughed.

"Knew what?" Said Terry pouting as he crossed his arms over his fat chest. "And when are you going to stop calling me 'kid'?"

"When you're not a kid anymore, kid!" Beel growled back and Terry found himself again leaning back against the wall for support. The fox took a couple breaths to calm himself down. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Beel was even a part of him, but it was also easy to remember that he was currently hosting some kind of underworld spirit he knew practically nothing about. When Terry's heart rate had slowed somewhat, Beel spoke again. "I get it. This is weird for you. This is my first gig upstairs too, at least... I think it is..." the spirit trailed off, "But regardless, if you half-ass this shit, I guarantee you will not end up happy. There's no down-button on this elevator and there's no rewind switch for the needle on the scale. You're going to be a great big fat ass no matter what as long as I'm here, so what you need to decide is if you're going to go all in with me and reap the rewards or if you're just going to be the 700 pound, no-name baker everyone feels a little bit bad for because he can't keep from stuffing his face with the doughnuts every once in a while."

Terry swallowed, really thinking about Beel's words. "So... there are rewards for going all in on being a fat pig?" The fox never thought that he would say anything like that with a serious tone of voice.

"The only way to get more power from Belphegor is to appease or impress him." Said Beel. "Otherwise, you've already gotten all that you're going to get from him." Terry's fat rippled jovially around him, "Unless you really enjoy my charming, fucking company that much!"

"Eh, I could take it or leave it." Said Terry mildly, playing at being cool. But it didn't seem to faze Beel for a moment as the fox felt a soft jab to his ribs. His right hand flew to the spot, only to be stopped half a foot or so above the impact site by the thick padding of his moob.

"You'll take it whether you like it or not!" Laughed Beel.

Terry snarled playfully and gripped both sides of his paunch. "Don't make me start thinking about throwing myself downstairs."

"I'll make sure your bones cushion the fall." Beel snorted, and Terry blew a raspberry into the empty night air.

Still chuckling a little, Terry relented, throwing his thickly padded shoulders up and down. "Look, I didn't start studying demonology without understanding that things might lead to dark places." Said the fox, "And I don't want to tap out now. It's just... eating out of a dumpster, man... that's a bit much for me right now." He let his hand settle onto the bulge of his belly which jutted out between his thick tits. He was surprised to feel an almost sensuous purring underneath his fingertips, but he didn't move his hand right away this time.

"Okay," Beel relented, still whispering into the fox's ear. "I get it. This is a big change for both of us."

"You can say that again." Terry chuckled as he turned around to waddle back home. He reached behind himself and hitched his briefs back over his tail. They really were too tight. As he walked, he felt his gut jostling left and right on top of his thighs, a thick, meaty pendulum. His stomach was hardly bothering him anymore. To no one in particular, Terry said, "Dad probably won't mind having a few less day-old doughnuts to sell tomorrow..." In the night air, the fox's belly growled softly.

The number on the scale broke "500" without pausing, that is, the scale in the bakery that they used to weigh pallets of flour. There wasn't any way to hide this amount of extra pudge and the hopeful remarks that Terry had been receiving from his parents that the extra work he was putting in would help burn off some of his excess weight died down quickly. So it was inevitable that Terry would find himself sitting on the edge of his bed, struggling to pull up his sole remaining pair of 6 XL briefs from a pack of 3 he had ordered online before his mother had taken away his credit card (well, their credit card technically, he supposed). They had already ripped in two places, but the underwear was literally the last piece of clothing he could hope to fit into given his incredible girth. They were still really tight, but that was not so much the problem at the moment as they lay around his chunky cankles.

"Urgh..." Terry groaned as he reached down, but it was the thickness of his torso more than even his gargantuan gut that blocked his efforts to lean forward towards the ground. The tips of his thick fingers were just an inch or two away from the waist band. Sighing, the fox flopped backwards onto his bed. "Beel..." he groaned, "A little help?"

"Yes, Master?" The spirit quipped, affecting an Arabian accent.

Terry rolled his eyes and just slapped the side of his thick belly, causing it to rock back and forth where it still sat heavily on his thighs, even while lying on his back. "Underpants..." he groaned. "Help..."

"You'd think a man who's going to be twenty this year wouldn't need help getting his britches on!" Beel laughed. and Terry sat up with effort, feeling those extra fifty or so pounds on his spine. The obese fox strained forward again.

"Wouldn't need the help if... urgh... you weren't in the way, Beel!" The fox grunted as he squirmed this way and that.

"I guess I owe you something for keeping up a good pace on your gains..." said Beel and something shifted in the fat of the fox's ankles. "Though I still think this is a gross misuse of my abilities."

"Duly noted." Terry grunted as he felt the fat shudder within his cankles, well past where he could actually see. The fat at the bottoms of his legs bulged suddenly and the bulge rose several inches up the leg on either side, carrying the waist band with them. Terry caught it on his outstretched fingers even as the fat lost its surface tension and melted into the surrounding thickness of his fat leg. Despite the weirdness of this event, however, it barely even crossed the fox's mind as he pulled up his briefs in triumph. "Yes!" He cried in satisfaction as the tight fabric pulled across his now sagging rump. The waist band pulled hard into the crease under his overflowing love handle, but Terry was used to that by now. He was not even thinking about when, inevitably, he would have to beg his mother or father for new clothes, but he probably should have.

rrrriiiiiiip!

One step. Terry took one step from his bed and the entire seat of his last piece of clothing split right down the seat, in between the massive globes of his ass, and not even anywhere close to the two other rips. Terry froze in shock and horror. He really ought to have thought of this before, but the fact really did not fully hit him until now that he had literally nothing to wear any longer.

Beel's comment of, "Woo, way to go, butterball!" Did not help matters as Terry felt the sudden breeze behind him under the flapping tatters of the extra, plus-sized undergarment.

Terry ripped the remains of the cloth carelessly from his thighs, the worn-out waist band snapping in half almost without effort as the fox tugged at it. "I can't believe this shit. I can't even go to the store to use the cash I've saved up and I don't have a card anymore to order anything online!"

"Au natural, my friend." Said Beel unhelpfully. "It's the new craze, and better for your fur really."

Ignoring him, Terry threw the rags into a corner of his room. "This is all Mom's fault and her weight-loss crusade!"

"You're right. She's got to go. Want I should feed her to a hell hound?" Said Beel into his ear.

Terry shuddered and sat down, bare ass, onto his bed again; his oversized tummy pushed his knees apart a little. "You can do that?" He asked trepidatiously, "I mean, not that I want you to feed Mom to a hell hound."

Beel snorted, "Kid, you'll really believe anything, won't you?"

Terry scowled. "Well, it's not like you're giving me any context to know what's true and what isn't!" Over the past month, the fox had had ample time to question the spirit of his flab at his leisure. However, Beel liked telling obviously tall tales and even contradictory facts about the spirit world, how supernatural forces operated on Earth, and even the place where Belphegor lived, the dark pit of Sheol. The spirit seemed to derive pleasure from watching Terry struggle to retain information and sort out the possible truths from the impossible nonsense. Well, perhaps he should not have expected more from a demon, or whatever Beel was in truth.

"You've learned tons!" Said the spirit, patting Terry on the back again, "And with any luck, you'll gain a tone as well, fat boy."

Terry chuffed out the side of his snout. "Well, we're well on our way to that, now aren't we?" He ran a furred palm down the side of his huge, protruding belly. Fifty pounds did not sound like too much, considering where he was at before, but Terry felt the difference, especially in the size of his belly and man-boobs. Add to that the fact that he had not gotten any stronger since the day he had made his deal with Belphegor and Terry was acutely aware of how much extra meat rested on his frame, or perhaps, how much bigger Beel had gotten.

"What? This?" Beel yapped and Terry saw the wide surface of his belly quiver. "We're barely a quarter of the way to 200 pounds, boy. You can whine once you've got some real meat on your bones!"

Actually, a quarter of the way to 200 sounded like considerably more than fifty pounds... Terry lifted his hand to his mouth and chewed on his claws.

"You're not pussing out on me, are you, Terry?" Asked Beel.

"No!" Answered the adolescent immediately and he let his fist fall onto the surface of his quivering belly for good measure; of course, he did not really try to hit Beel anymore because the spirit always hit him back harder, and obviously where there was not any padding to cushion the blow.

"Good." Said the spirit. "'Cause nobody's been stuffing doughnuts into your fat hole after hours except you." Terry's entire front seemed to rock side to side once in a pensive movement. "In fact, now that you've got some cushion under your belt for gaining, I was meaning to bring up again how we might get Belphegor to give us some more juice."

"Can't this wait until later, Beel?" Terry moaned, "I'm in the middle of a crisis here, or did you not notice how I just burst out of my last pair of skivies just now?"

"Hey, I already gave you props for that." Said Beel. "And you're still not getting the bigger picture. With power from Sheol, you could, like materialize any clothes you wanted!"

"Really?" Said Terry, curiosity peaked, "Like, 'poof!' Magic clothes?" He snapped his chubby fingers for effect, though the sound was dulled slightly by how thick they were getting.

"Well..." the spirit hesitated, "I'm not sure about that exactly. But you could probably force your folks to give you whatever you wanted with the right mental nudge and enough power behind it."

That did sound more like how supernatural forces worked in the material world. "Okay." Said the obese fox, sitting up and slowly getting to his feet, "I'm willing to start working on that. But it sounds like it's going to take time to get Belphegor's attention, and I need something to wear now!"

"Wear, schmear." Beel chided, and with gently prods to the fox's waist and thighs, maneuvered him over towards his mirror. "Just look at your gorgeous self. You're practically modest."

Beel had a point. Along with some serious adjustments to how he used the restroom, Terry had been forced to get used to the sight and feel of his paunch pressing more and more heavily down on his groin. With fifty extra pounds tucked under his belt, as it were, Terry now found that the lowermost swell of his gut almost completely covered his junk now. He'd been aware that his furry flab was pushing down on the entire length of his penis all the time now. But he was a little shocked to see that he could barely even see the bottom of his ball sac now; and he had gotten into the habit of tugging them out of the crevasse between his thunder thighs.

Terry sucked in and let out his gut a couple times, watching in sickly fascination as he had barely any effect in the size of his belly now by working his abdominal muscles or in how low it hung. His sack rested tautly against the bulging surface of his thighs, most the give needed to force his balls out from between their girth.

"You might have a point." Said Terry unsurely, and completely sure that his mother would have a different opinion on his 'modesty' entirely.

"Here, let me..." said Beel, and the fox's fat thighs parted slightly of their own accord and swallowed his testicles.

"Woah!" Terry exclaimed, immediately reaching for his crotch - and it was getting to be quite a reach now!

"Easy now, buck." Said Beel and the skin folds parted again, revealing his anatomy. "Just a party trick." He laughed as the fatty flesh closed on him again, and not too tightly.

Terry rolled his eyes, "Har, har har." He breathed. But then footsteps on the staircase alerted him that his time for fooling around with his fat self was almost gone. He paused to look at himself again in the mirror, twisting his chunky hips this way and that. "I guess this will have to do..." He sighed, and muttered aloud. "She can't really expect me to walk around naked, right?"

Terry worked in the bakery until three in the afternoon, passing his mother several times, in fact, before she first commented on his nudity. It just so happened that the fox was bending over to pull out a tray of croissants from the lowest oven when he heard his mother exclaim, "Terry! What are you doing without any clothes on!?"

The obese fox sighed raggedly as he straightened up, feeling those extra pounds on his lower back, and set the hot tray on the counter. As he turned to face her, the vixen's eyes flew towards his crotch area, only to be met with awkward surprise and a faint look of disgust that hurt Terry more than anything she had said. But the pain transmuted to anger in the adolescent's heart.

"I'm not wearing anything because I literally don't have anything else to wear!" Terry shouted at his mother. The fact that it had even taken this long for her to notice seemed like a further outrage in spite of the measures he had taken that morning to conceal his genitals within his own overflowing flesh.

Seeming to ignore his comment entirely, his mother said, "You can't just walk around the kitchen naked!"

Terry suppressed a growl in his throat. "Listen to me, Mom. I don't have anything that fits anymore!"

Her expression told the youth that her first instinct was not to believe him and order him back to his broom cupboard of a room. She did a doubletake, however, actually taking a step back to absorb the sheer width of his frame which was pretty much three times as wide as her slender one.

"...or haven't you noticed me walking around in my underwear for the past month?" Said Terry coldly into the pause.

"And who's fault is that?!" His mother quipped as the look of disgust on her face strengthened with the realization that this was more than a case of teenage angst. "I told you we aren't buying bigger clothes, so you're going to have to drop all of that weight, Son."

Terry swallowed, his nerve wavering. He never liked arguing with his parents, his mother especially. Every look she was giving him now was like a dagger stabbing into his soft body. Part of him wanted to cry, but now that Beel was in his life, what she wanted was now literally impossible. "You can't just... just dictate my weight away, Mom!" Said the fox, placing a hand on the side of his hanging belly. "Do you think I like being naked all the time?! I don't even feel like a person!" Ok, now he was crying, but he kept looking at his mother, lips trembling over teeth clenched hard.

Terry's mother gritted her teeth also, fur bristling on her lavishly up-kept tail and between her ears. Terry just knew that she was about to say something extremely hurtful, but she swallowed her words. "T-Terry... this," she gestured as the young fox's sagging belly, "just can't go on. I can't believe how fat you've gotten already." She scowled, "Y-you go to your room, I'm going to have to talk to your f-father about this!"

Terry hunched his shoulders. He was about to be twenty years old, but felt as powerless as he had been a decade earlier. He was stripped of almost everything other than the basics of life himself, including self-determination and he clutched his fat fist at his side as he hung his head, turning in the direction towards the back of the bakery. "...fine!" He spat out.

As Terry waddled across the kitchen, his stomach growled and he instinctively reached towards the platter of cooling croissants he had pulled out earlier. The young fox had not even really thought about the movement of his hand, so it came as a shock when his mother slapped it away. "Hey, what the hell?" Terry cursed, as he held his hand.

"No more of that!" Said his mother, still scowling at her engorged son. But she lowered her voice slightly as she added, "I'm putting a stop to this right now, Terry. I'm serious this time!" Her voice lowered into a hiss, "And don't think that I don't know what happened to all of the sugar cookies after Valentine's Day." She looked up and down her quarter-ton son again, "Now get going. I don't want to see you again until after dinner."

The tears ran hot down either side of Terry's snout as he stumbled away and hid in his room, his bed groaning under his gargantuan bulk. The fox was not sure that he had ever felt so hideous and alien in his own skin as he did at that moment.

The fox's flab stirred, but before Beel could even speak, Terry snapped, "I don't want to hear it!" The adolescent threw himself back on his bed which he filled almost entirely despite it being a full size, and an audible crack from the frame alerted him of the need to be more gentle with the furniture.

To Beel's credit, the spirit left him alone with his self-pitying thoughts for several minutes. After a little while, Terry found himself dozing off mostly out of boredom...

Terry again found himself standing in a dark place, but this dark, rather than feeling like the empty abyss at the bottom of an ocean felt rather warmer and more friendly, like when he had hidden in his closet as a small child. In fact, the floor squeaked a little under his feet like the familiar wooden boards in his room. Taking a moment to look at himself, the fox realized that he was once again incredibly skinny, not quite the skeleton as he was before, but still gaunt. At least he did not feel like he was about to fall over just now.

Looking up, Terry saw the familiar pile of orange and white furred fat. This time, however, the golem had shaped itself a little less abstractly. A vaguely canine snout rested on a head with the hint of large triangular ears. The arms were actual appendages this time, though with mittened hands like a snowman, and when Beel moved them, it was with the same boneless quality like a cartoon character from one of Terry's favorite shows, "Adventure Time." It was not surprising at all to see the spirit sporting a rather round pot belly on his overall thick frame or that he was noticeably larger than the last time they had met like this.

"So what's this place?" Asked Terry nonchalantly as he crossed his boney arms over his rib cage. The fox's chest felt uncomfortably hollow and flaccid. It would have been completely flat save that the ribs showed through the skin and fur, even on the front of him.

"Already rolling your eyes at the supernatural, eh, kid?" Said the roughly-shaped, fat fox, and Terry found it a little surprising just how big and obese Beel was able to appear, considering that at least 70 pounds or so had to have been removed to account for his boney frame. Beel took a few steps to the side, his whole body rippling softly with each step. He shook his clay-figure head slowly. "What is this world coming to when you millennials can't stop and wonder at a thing?"

"Cut the crap, Beel." Said Terry impatiently as he tapped a boney foot on the floor, the impact jarring and uncomfortably on the bones there. "And I'm not a millennial."

"Then what are ya?" Snapped Beel as he cocked his head around in a way that would have broken his neck if he'd had any bones in his entire body.

Terry shrugged, "Gen... Z, I guess?" After looking down for a moment, he came back a little stronger with a small chuckle, "But I know I'm too young to be a millennial, man."

Beel was usually cool with most things, but at the fox's response, he seemed a bit agitated. "Yeah... whatever..." The obese fox golem threw his arms down at his sides, rippling the heavyset form again, "That generation business is a buncha crap anyways."

Terry watched the fat of his body for a moment, grateful again that he wasn't feeling so awful. In fact, just having the empty space to let his arms down at his sides was something of a relief. It crossed the young man's mind to wonder again what exactly Beel was, and to a larger extent, what he was doing with his life, but the answers to both of these questions remained beyond his grasp.

After releasing a frustrated grunt, Beel relented, as though he had never deflected in the first place, "As for where we are, we're in your own head." The roughly shaped cheek of the fat fox twitched, suggesting a smirk, "So no place special, really."

"Thanks for that, Beel." Sighed Terry.

"Damn, is it empty in here or what?" Laughed the fat golem as it stepped closer.

"Jeez, can you give it a rest for a minute, man?" Terry snarled and turned his back on Beel, stomping off into the dark. Behind him, the fur on his back and tail stood on end. Not looking over his shoulder, he shouted, "I don't need you insulting me when my own mom can't stand the sight of me." The anger rekindled in Terry's breasts and his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides as he walked unsteadily, unused to both not having a huge amount of weight strapped to his front as well as there being space between this thighs. Around him, the empty dark mutated, filling with a dull red as Terry fumed. It became warmer.

"It's not my fault! Why can't she just support me like any regular mom would!?" Terry raged as he paced. He threw himself down instinctively, his boney butt landing on a firm surface that he recognized immediately as the old apartment bedroom he had lived in before his folks had purchased the bakery. It was stiflingly hot in the child's bedroom and a late summer sun filtered in through grimy windows. It was a time when the cheap a/c unit had blown out and they had had to wait for three days before it was repaired. Terry sweated now as he had then, and he looked up and realized where he was.

Beel stood in a corner of the room, though Terry must have been walking for at least a good five minutes. "This is my own head, isn't it?" Said the young fox looking across the small room at the greater bulk of his body. Clothing and small toys littered the ground of the room. Terry had never been very organized. "I always hated this place." He said and the room seemed to grow even more stifling.

"Did you now?" The fox golem breathed. He at least seemed unaffected by the sweltering heat.

Terry rose, his sweat leaving a visible stain on the Phneas-and-Ferb-themed sheets. "Yeah." He said, wiping at his forehead. He spread his arms, a more meaningful gesture on his gaunt frame. "Look at this place!" He placed one hand on the near wall, then leaned over without moving his paws, eventually hitting the far wall with his other hand. "We were poor. I think my bedroom was supposed to be a walk-in closet, but got converted." He moved to the window, rubbed at the grime there with the fur of his forearm, "Everything in my life was shabby." The presentation of his memory in this recreated, unreal detail was just making him more angry. "I never got a chance!"

Everything in the room was cast in a warm glow like that from a furnace. Terry could have sworn that some of the plastic figures on the shelf were beginning to melt. Beel grunted as he shifted his great bulk away from the wall, walking with a rolling gait on thick, clay-man legs. It bent and picked up a toy truck, squeezing it for its sound effect in his fat, mitten hand.

"You know, I bet a lotta kids would kill for this room... toys..." he tossed the truck aside and it began to pool against the ground as if it were a griddle, '...three squares a day."

Terry had heard this line before, however. "Yeah, just because I wasn't living in a third-world country doesn't mean I didn't have problems. But I've got even bigger problems now!" He made a slashing motion with his arm and started as the room vanished as if blown away by a hurricane. In its place was a much more recent memory, an identical copy of his room in the bakery. The fox would not have known whether he was awake or asleep save that he was still a rail and now Beel was sitting on the side of his bed. The obese fox left barely enough room to sit himself, so Terry remained standing.

"What is even the point of this?!" He cried, waving his slender arms at the flesh golem. "Why did you bring me here?"

Beel snorted. "Ain't nobody brought you here. You brought yourself here... Or else you never left." He added with another snort, "S'your own head after all."

"I think I would have known if I had a holo-deck in my head, Beel" said Terry tapping his foot.

"Hey, I don't have all the answers, kid!" Said Beel, snapping his snout up, "And you don't have to be dragging me into your head just cause you're having a row with your folks."

"If it's anyone's fault my own mother hates me, its yours!" Terry shouted. The heat from his old apartment had not left him, in fact, it was even worse. Tears streamed down the sides of his snout but evaporated in trails of steam. "Y-you did this to me, you fat fuck!" And in Beel's obese body, he could see too much of his 500 pound living self, so much of himself was just skin and fat now.

The bed collapsed under Beel suddenly, splintering jaggedly as the curtains blazed into an inferno. The head and base board of the bed crunched inward, just so happening to form jagged points directed inward at the suddenly trapped blob fox.

"T-Terry! Get a hold of yourself!" Said Beel, now in a sudden panic for some reason. "This isn't the end of the w-"

"Shut up!" Terry cried, clutching his aching head. His forehead was almost hot enough to burn his fingers, but he only wanted to smash, to destroy something, anything. The cabinet burst into flames behind him. "Everything sucks!" He cried blindly, stumbling backwards against the smoking wall. "I can't... I can't..."

"Terry, listen to me!" Said the fat fox trapped in the burning bed. "You've got to calm down."

"Why should I?" Said the adolescent, shaking with his impotent rage. "None of this is even real!" He threw his arm out and fire traced along the ceiling in an arc, wood splintering as it went. "This is just a nightmare."

"Maybe for y-you." Said Beel, his voice shaking like it never had. "B-but, I'm really here."

"Is that so...?" Said Terry and he rolled his shoulders, the blades standing up through the fleshless skin. He grabbed a bit of the broken bed frame, not caring how it scalded his boney fingers. He lifted the point to the flesh golem's thick, tire neck. "So, like, can I kill you right now?"

Beel looked up at the gaunt fox defiantly, "You can hurt me, bad, but you won't like happens when you wake up."

Terry waved the burning wooden spike around flippantly. "And what would happen? Would I wake up with a puncture wound in the side of my big, fat gut?" He said sarcastically.

"Worse." Beel intoned. "You'll wake up alone, and all your same problems will still be there."

Terry's first reaction was rage and he gripped the wood spike in his hand hard, intending to drive it into the face of the... the thing he hated most of all, the fat smothering him in the waking world. But the more he thought about them, the more Beel's words had a chilling effect. He paused long enough to spit. "You?! You're the cause of all my problems! You're just going to make everything worse by making me gain even more weight!"

"Terry!" Said Beel desperately, "If you banish me, everything you've done already will just be a burden dragging you down for years or even the rest of your life." The golem swallowed, "If you go back now, you'll have nothing to look forward to but bariatric surgery and a lifetime of dieting." Beel lifted his chin, thick neck swaddling wobbling fiercely, "But there's a way through! To build on what you already have, if you just trust me!"

Terry felt the power in his hand and in his head. Maybe that was why he was sure that Beel was not lying to him this time. He could really make the spirit go away if he wanted to, never mind that both he and Belphegor had told him the possession was permanent. Part of him really wanted to kill Beel here and now, or at least send him back to Sheol. But...

The fox let his arm fall and with it, the flames extinguished instantly, leaving the room cracking like a cooling ember. "I'm... not..." Terry started, each word a conscious effort, "...keeping you... because I... like... you." He took a deep breath, steadying his slender form, "But you're my only tie to the larger world."

Terry threw the splinter away and turned his back on Beel, the bedframe finally collapsing to ash as he did so. He drew a shuddering breath that stretched the ribs of his chest. The temperature in the room began to drop fast.

Beel pulled himself up fluidly and approached the slender fox slowly, cautiously. "Yeah, I don't mind you using me, kid." He said, "Just like I'm using you." He shrugged, "That's really how this thing is supposed to go... it's how most relationships work downstairs also..."

But as Beel came to the young fox, frost was forming on the ashes of the bedroom and the tips of his fur. Terry heaved a shuddering moan. "I don't want to use or be used by anyone, though!" The flesh golem drew its hand back from the biting cold emanating from the fox as he lowered himself into a crouch on boney knees. "Can't you just leave me alone? I don't want to do this anymore!"

The flesh golem stood motionless as it looked down at the trembling fox. It seemed to take a long moment to reach some kind of decision. It took a step forward, kneeling beside the fox as he rocked back and forth on his heels. Beel ignored the stinging frost splashing across the soft flab that composed his body.

"Terry, this isn't just about about fighting with your folks or having nothing to wear." Said Beel, and it clearly was not a question.

The young fox shook his head. "Why... why..." he muttered, shaking his snout side to side. "Why would she do this to me? Why can't... Why can't..."

Beel touched Terry's naked soul, "Your mother, right?"

Terry shifted his frost-covered snout, rimed with salty snow. "Why can't she just love me?" He moaned and behind both of them a spear of ice erupted from the frozen ashes of the floor. A visage of a tall, but coldly indifferent vixen was clearly visible inside the crystal as it sucked all the remaining heat from the room. The ice began to spread over Terry's lean body, threatening to engulf the fat fox as well.

Beel plunged his play-dough hands through the thickening ice, wraping them around Terry's painfully thin shoulders. "Terry, she does love you! I don't even know her and I know that!"

"But... she..." Terry began to weep, but an apendage of fat oozed from Beel's rapidly freezing body to lightly slap the teenager across the face.

"You dumbass! Can't you see that she is doing this to you because she cares?!" Beel shouted at the younger fox.

"She..." Terry started and behind him the icy pillar cracked loudly.

"She doesn't understand our situation, but you still haven't given her a chance to understand, or your father!" Said Beel as he struggled with his half-frozen body.

"I can't tell her I'm possessed by a demon!" Terry yapped, but the ice cracked a little more.

Beel huffed, leaning his crudely formed forehead against the back of Terry's skull because his arms were frozen in place. "And that might not be the right way to explain things, Terry, but you have to give them something. Something so they don't think you're just sick and need help. You need to tell them this is a life decision you're making!"

"I... I..." said Terry as lumps of ice began to fall to the ground.

"Oh, grow a fucking pair and take responsibility for your life, you little shit!" Beel roared and behind them, the ice exploded into a million shards. Beel took the brunt of the blow as they were thrown forward, protecting Terry's slender form with four-hundred pounds of soft bulk.

Terry gasped for breath as the scene dissolved around them, ending in the familiar black like the inside of a closet, or a skull. The young fox got up, but Beel remained as a puddle of dense lard on the ground. "Beel!" He cried and plunged his hands into the molten mass of fat and fur. But it remained as formless as a lump of dough. "Beel!"

Terry stood up, clutched the side of his head, "Ah, fuck!" He cursed, belatedly realizing the psychic power of his own roiling emotions. But that was just like him to damage things around him without a prior thought, wasn't it? He crouched down again near the pile of fox lard, hugging his knees. "Beel, please come back. I'm sorry." He muttered into the fur of his forearms. "I really don't want to try to do this alone."

"And you'll never be alone, kid..." groaned the heap of flab from beside Terry, though it did not resume a humanoid shape right away. "Just as long as you don't go pulling more shit like that... ugh..." the fat pile groaned again, "...and do you think you can let me outta here now? I'm tired of playing therapist."

"Hmph," Terry snorted, standing up on boney legs. He walked around the fat heap slowly, toe-claws clicking on the hardwood floor. "World's worst therapist, you mean."

"Hey!" Beel cried, reforming a rough fox head in the molten pool of himself. "Now that you've had a good cry, aren't you feeling better?"

Terry turned his head to the side, too proud to admit anything of the sort. He crossed his boney arms over his empty ribs. "Well, it still doesn't do anything to fix my situation now does it?"

"The problem isn't with your situation, Terry. It's with your attitude!" Said Beel pointing his nose up at the skinny fox from the pool of himself. "Tell your folks that you're going to be a giant fat ass and they're just going to have to accept that!"

Terry threw his arm down at the puddle fox. "How can I tell them that when I don't accept it myself!"

Beel sighed, "I told you a month ago, you've got to own this sooner or later."

"I..." Terry started, but the fires in his chest had gone out. He just felt... empty. He hugged the ribs of his chest with claw-like fingers.

"Terry." Said Beel and the young fox turned his head. "You had the chance to get rid of me just now and you didn't. You know you already've made the choice." The head shifted in the bean-bag-like body, "Probably, it's time to wake up now and plan on what you're going to say to your folks."

Terry opened his mouth to argue further, but had no words. He looked down at the molten bulk of fat sitting on the floor, the furry blob that would cover his bones again the moment he woke up. He took a moment to reach between his skinny legs, to remember the feel of his dangling organ before it was smashed permanently back into the warm flesh of his swollen body. He sighed, "Well, if I knew how to wake up..."

"Have you tried pinching yourself?" Beel suggested.

Terry rolled his eyes. "My hands were literally on fire earlier!" He said, even as he reached towards his upper arm, took hold of the empty skin there. "Like something so dumb would actually-" But Terry pinched his skin hard enough to smart and that pain was like a crack splitting the universe in half. Terry opened his eyes.

He awoke laying facedown on the abused mattress of his bed, chin mostly supported by the welling moobs under him. He pushed hard into the mattress with his palms, lifting his upper body, though the sagging flesh of his chest draped clear down to his wrists and the surface of the bed regardless. Terry expected his heart to be racing, but he felt surprisingly fine, refreshed even, as if it had all just been a dream. Well, it was at that, but Terry would need to redefine his definition of dreams moving forward.

With effort, he reached over to his nightstand and grabbed the small battery-operated clock there. A quarter till six. Terry grunted as he wrestled with his quarter-ton frame until he was sitting up. He lifted his flabby arms and ran his hands through the fur on top of his head, sighing even as his belly quivered on top of his thighs. The image of his parents glossed over the surface of his mind, the space between his ears feeling like a roiling mix of molten lead and liquid nitrogen. It was fortunate that his stomach sat empty inside his big belly, otherwise, he would have started getting nauseous.

"Beel?" He said, the syllable cutting through the silence filling the small room.

The spirit didn't answer, but Terry felt something shift up against his insides and then there was the distinctive stomach growl that wasn't really him. Terry let a thick arm rest on the gut spreading out ahead of him. He figured that Beel must have been weakened by damage sustained within his dream. He only hoped that his companion would recover with time as he patted the enormous stomach gently. "Well, I guess this is something I should have done a month ago anyways..." the fox sighed to himself as he got up. The steps to the door of his room were the longest he had taken in recent memory, but Terry summoned the strength to cross them regardless. There was no point waiting in his room any longer. He'd have to face his parents on his own terms. Then he opened the door.