Game 3Game 3 Outline| Game 3 |
Game 3 Outline |
You wake up from your nap a few hours later, judging from the light coming from outside the cave, and breathe a sigh of relief - the dragoness has stopped moving in your stomach, and the pain of filling your gut to near the breaking point has given way to a sense of comforting fullness. You struggle to shake off the itis from the largest feast of your life, and decide to take a moment to just take in your surroundings.
The first thing that strikes you is the warmth. Despite the cold outside, you feel enveloped by unimaginable, comforting warmth all around you. It's rather like being wrapped in a heavy blanket on a cold night, but innumerable times over. The feeling is profoundly soothing after the ordeals you've been through, and you bask in it unthinkingly for a few minutes before continuing your inventory.
The second thing that strikes you is just how immense you are. You were already far too fat to move prior to your last-ditch reversal of predator and prey, but having now eaten a dragon, and quite a fat dragon at that, you've reached a whole new level of obesity. Your body spills out in all directions, defying comprehension. Your enormous butt looms over you from behind like a pair of grey-furred hills with a diminutive sprig of a tail between them; your legs and arms form gigantic doughy mounds pushing aggressively out into the cave around you; and to top it off, your mountain of a stomach towers over you, distended to the size of an small office building all by itself.
It occurs to you that stomach is still tight as a drum from your last meal; you've only just started digesting the dragon. You can only imagine how profoundly fat you'll be once you've actually finished digesting your former master. Amazingly, the prospect excites you - while you realize you will eventually have to lose the weight in order to leave the cave and eat again, you relish the idea of seeing just how bountiful your immense body can get.
Suddenly, you feel a tickle in your throat, jerking you out of your reverie. The tickle grows into full-on gagging - it can't be the dragon is fighting back again, you think. No, the object in your throat is far too small, you realize. With that, you let nature take its course and spit the object out onto your rolling expanse of chins. It turns out to be...
Written by an anonymous author
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