Mammoth Misdelivery [STORY] (Patreon)

Break out the party poppers, you're throwing a celebration! But you've had one mammoth misdelivery and are now left with way too many peanut-butter muffins. Yet something tells me you'll find a way to pack-yderm those parcelled treats away and throw a party that nobody will forget~

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“We’re so very sorry for the inconvenience caused by our delivery team. We’ll be sure to remind Drake n’ Orde’s to double check their bulk orders before sending them our way. We understand time is of the essence so we have fired up our ovens, prioritised your redelivery, and it should arrive to you in the early evening. As for the misdelivery, we obviously cannot take back fresh batches so consider it on the house! We hope this experience hasn’t soured you on our service and hope to hear from you again. As further compensation, please accept a free year-long ringleader membership card on behalf of Big Top Bakery! Check our website for available discounts and offers with your card! Hope your day is the Tops!”And just like that, they hang up. You look over at your table, four large red and white striped boxes stacked high tower over you. You know each one is filled with a dozen delectably decadent muffins which you hoped were ready for your party tonight. However, when you look back at another fifth box already opened, all you see is a waste. Not that they weren’t quality or pristine, in fact they look quite delicious, but unfortunately you’ve invited a party of peanut allergists and guess what the main ingredient is in each and every one. Phant-astic Fudger Nutter they call it. Even with your starved appetite, you could only manage one a day and you have about 58 more to get through before they go stale. Where would you even store it in your already cramped living space? At least, it’s free?

You take a deep sigh, and pluck the smallest one from the already opened box. Can’t even balance it on your palm, it’s so large. You first notice the peanut pattern on the grey-navy wrapper. Has a nice hand-designed charm to it, one that can only come from a lot of love. That same love is evident in the muffin itself. A high-domed muffin-top with a generous amount of fudgey and chocolatey chunks. It has marvellous marble effect with dark cocoa browns swirled with a bright peanut tan and atop and a generous dollop of sticky fudgy peanut butter icing glistening like a snow capped mountain. Your mouth is already watering from the salty sweet aroma coming off of it. Perhaps you’ll have your one a day now instead of later on. Might as well treat yourself for the inconvenience today…

As you take a bite, it is quite predictably delicious. A crisp dry crumb cracks into a dense soft sponge that is sweet with sugar, bitter with cocoa, and salty with peanuts. With another bite, that toffee-like icing coats your mouth with sweet nuttiness. A third chomp, hearty chunks of dark chocolate and fudge break the sponge with a velvet smoothness. Then, when you bore your way to the middle, you are met with a surprise of creamy peanut butter baked right into the middle. Every nibble sustains the bliss of sweet nutty heaven, almost transcendentally so. As you pop the last morsel in your mouth and savour the flavour one more time, you like your lips of any lingering crumbs. That was truly satisfying. You pat your stomach expecting to feel that heavy fullness that comes with something so decadent but you find no weight. Yes, you can feel it with a firm pat on your middle but there is no tautness or a bloated sensation from within. In fact, you feel quite empty. You even feel a pang of hunger, punctuated by a small whine that reverberates from your stomach. Huh, you didn’t even realise you were starving. Probably worked yourself too hard. Maybe you need to grab some lunch from the fridge. Yet maybe, your hand has already relieved a second muffin from the opened box.

Part of you winces at being so indulgent. You have plenty of groceries with limited dates ready to be eaten, with a much more balanced calorific intake. Yet another part of you thinks it’s been a while since you’ve properly indulged yourself, just like when you were younger. Id beats super-ego, as you fill your mouth with more chocolatey bliss. It even tastes better this time. Taking such dainty bites only allowed you to appreciate the individual elements but now you experience them all at once with a full quarter stretching your palette out. You feel your belly purr with satisfaction, feeling fuller than before. Finding a surprise third in your other hand, you don’t think twice to nosh down again. Rotating those flavours around your tongue and ceiling of your mouth like a flavour typhoon you don’t want to escape. As you scrunch the decorative paper in your palm, you pat your slightly-bowed stomach.

All that sponge must be filling you like an over-stuffed plushie but you strangely feel numb to it. You feel its presence both with your hands on your tauter belly and the munched muffin pressing against the walls of your stomach but it only translates as warmth to your nerves. You should be collapsed back on your chair, stifling trapped air with your mouth and hand but you feel quite nonplussed more than anything else. Bewildered by your hunger for more, your face flushes when your belly lets out an even louder growl than before. It feels near painful when your tummy creases itself in violent protest. You’ve never had a powerful craving like this before. Even your mouth is moistening itself in anticipation. In spite of your better judgement, you swallow your pride, plant yourself on your kitchen table bench, and pull that ¾ dozen towards you.

You find yourself panting excitedly as you raise another to your lips. Your id is screaming over your ego; logic losing the battle against ravenous instinct. As you feel that dense crumb give to your closing jaw, you fall right back into that nutty nirvana. Like slipping into a tub of hot chocolate, nothing outside of the sensations can reach, except for one. Ignore it all you like, you can feel the rim of your shirt sliding up. Not an unfamiliar experience, but it still brings red warmth to your cheekbones. It feels so naughty, even as a grown adult but it also feels quite fun to truly indulge. You rub your thighs together euphorically as you savour another landslide of peanut-buttery goodness, your pants clinging tighter against your waist. As you ride the nutty wave, you see you’re now down to the last two. Ten large muffins, my goodness. You think that you must be feeling full now, as you go to slap your distended middle but you find your palms hit paunch much sooner than you expect.

Looking down you see the bottom of your belly slipping under your shirt which struggles to cover the spare tyre around your middle. This no longer looks like just fullness, this is actual gains but there’s more. Spreading from your navel in faded blotches was thick wrinkled nut brown skin. You swallow that last mouthful of muffin in concern only to feel a sudden contraction in your abdomen which follows with a muffled gurgle and your shirt riding over your belly button. You notice the same dried creased patches of skin in the back of your hand as you press your digits into your thicker tummy. Pinching it, it feels dry but malleable like a gooey meringue. That thought brings on another excited grumble from below. There are other oddities you feel like your lobes sitting lower on your head, your top canines stroking against your bottom lip, and your trouser cuffs riding above the rim of your socks. You stifle a belch which decides to exit through your nostrils, with a noticeable honk. You tried to reflect more on these changes but suddenly you feel your tongue being pressed with the second-to-last muffin.

That one went away in only a few bites. After that, you now begin to feel a distinct warmth pulsing from within. It was barely noticeable before but now it’s quite prominent. Along with the mouthful of muffin, the centralised heat soothes your bowed middle with titillating pleasure, coming in waves. Pushing that last muffin past your lips, it comes again with amorous potency. You hear a creaking under your developing overhang as an uncomfortable tightness begins to set in. Stroking past wrinkly pudges, you unbuckle your pants, letting a button loose, whilst letting your zip unfurl naturally. The waves of pleasure start to dissipate. In surprise desperation, you finish off that last bite of muffins, lettering the ecstasy wash over you. Stretching back quite loutishly and feeling your form relax outward with a satisfied moan. Feeling the tide of titillation pull out, you know what to do. Grasping another box off that tower, you clumsily set it down in front of you and near tearing the lid off in greedy lust. These ones seem to fit in your palm better, though your grip feels strangely restrained a bit. Almost like your palm has gotten wider but you shake off such an unlikely notion. Once again, you indulge.

They seem to be going down in fewer and fewer bites but it doesn’t take away from their deliciousness. They even seem to taste even better, thanks to the heat travelling across your body. Wiping sticky icing from your lower cheek, you feel the collar of your shirt digging into your neck. You can feel your belly jutting out from the increased intake, though you quite enjoy the sensation like you’ve stopped sucking in for a long time. As you feel your thighs tingle with heat, you hear popping coming from the seam edges at your side. The taut fabric seems to be continuing to bunch up around your groin, your shins feeling a tad exposed, and the material at its tautest around your seat. Even your short sleeves are tightening, wrinkling and cutting into your flesh. It crosses your mind that perhaps it is you who is getting bigger but after another soothing tingle you it feels like it matters less and less. You feel a stir in your core as you swallow that last morsel. A sudden lurch rocks your middle as a forceful burp propels from your crumb-clad mouth. Your belly mumbles dizzily to yourself as you take yourself in.

Looking down at your hands, they have indeed grown much wider with hardened pale nails topping stubby digits. The grey flesh has travelled up your forearm which was swollen considerably like a mighty tree branch all the way to the shoulder. Your shirt is looking more like a bra now only covering an inch of your spherical stomach and your boldened chest is doing no favour to the already abused clothing. Concentrating on your face for a second, you feel your nose has grown quite inflated, sticking quite fair from your, and twitching with new muscle. Still just a stout but it’s on its way. Your cheeks way heavily on your face, feeling all the wider with a bunched up set of chins stretching your collar. Rolling your tongue around your mouth, you feel your top canines have moved up your palette and are engorged with a forward growth only outmatched by your schnozz. Rocking your head side-to-side, you feel your ears clapping at your neck and dragging with considerable air resistance. Finally, your lower-half has blown up quite considerably. Thunderous thighs that welt out the split seams of your pants, are unable to be parted due to their bulk. Feet that you now realise have stretched your socks into near tatters, developing similarly to your overgrown mitts. Lastly, your rear hangs precariously over your bench, easily taking up the space of town people with each cheek. It sits quite comfortably even on a hard bench like this, with only the taut fabric of your trousers keeping them from idly jiggling. Pressed between the top of your crack you eye a developing nub with worry short hair growing from its tip. You thought enters your head, one that concerns and excites you at how easily it comes to you.

“I’m only halfway done.”

And with that, another box lid pops open with a squeeze of your hammy mitts. It takes a second for you to grab with your fat and flattened palms but you take a hefty half away with a chomp of your jostling jaws. You‘re amazed to feel that entire enjoyed mouthful travel in one whole lump down your gullet where it thumps down into your gut with a triumphant bulge of new weight. Seams continue to unravel at your sides as more naked flesh is exposed and the tightness is relieved. Your softer chest weighs heavily in the confines in your shirt as you watch a hole begin to make itself between your pressed pectorals. You feel the zipper on your trousers widen as your paunch bloats further outwards, your love-handles spilling over your waistband as they gain more rolls. A further itchiness wriggles your new dwarfed tail as you feel your buttocks bulge over the rim of your pants like baking dough spilling over its bread tin. That last swallow brought back up some air which stretches your widening cheeks before trumpeting loudly out of your elongated nostrils. It feels like your bugle call to binge ever more, and your tusked mouth is more than willing to answer.

That box disappeared even more quickly than before. You also notice that your grey tank of paunch has pushed your table up off the floor and it has precariously jostled the tower of two to the edge. Standing suddenly in a panic, your head bumps into your ceiling whilst the table legs slam into the floor. You rub your sore head with your rounded hand, wincing as you look to see a domed indent with a webbed crack in your apartment ceiling. Your flap your bat-winged ears nervously thinking of the repairs, but a relief sets in when you see your precious cupcakes have not taken a tumble onto your dirty floor. In fact, one has been knocked in front of you, already open. You rub your barrel of a gut, already grumbling at you as you find no reason to deny destiny. You sit your wide ass down, hearing an ominous creak from the usually solid bench as your cannon-like thighs hug the overflow of your belly and go to grab another peanut-flavoured piece of ambrosia.

You have very little grip now, as you are reduced to holding a muffin with both flattened mitts. However it fits just right in your mouth as you savor the moment when you let your tusked jaws close. Crushed and pressed by your palette, that intoxicating flavour practically explodes in your mouth all at once whilst sending an intense tidal wave of pleasure across your synapses. You had only sampled heaven before, but now the gates are truly open. With a rapacious swallow, you feel a prominent layering fat spread from your belly button, up your torso where your proud heavy rack bursts from its once tightened confines. The clap and jiggle atop the curvature of your stomach as the thread-bare tatters of your shirt are only able to cuff around your armpit and shoulders. As that torrent of adipose heads south, it’s like an overstuffing of a sausage as your grey flabby thighs blimp from the torn skin of your pants. Finally, the strained waistband barely covering the lower-half of your cheeks parts easily like wet tissue paper when that flow of flab pools into your posterior like rushing water in a pair of balloons. The only remains of clothing on you is your lucky pair of briefs, stretching over but not cutting into or tearing from your mass. You snap the band against your hips, letting your muchness jiggle salaciously as you feel your pachydermic apotheosis nearing completion. All that’s left is filling out just that little bit more.

Your poor bench is beginning to crack under your pachydermic pressure, creaking more and more as you feel your ass spill over its sides. Planting your cylindrical feet to the ground and letting out a brass snort from your trunk, you pull across the last box. You are now hunched more than ever over your comparatively diminutive table, pressing it tight against your titanic tum as you let your dexterous trunk relieve the container of its lid. Using your tusks to hold the box open, you finally give in to the most gluttonous urge that has been building before you’d even opened that first box. You dive face first and begin mindlessly chomping on the contents like a pig in a trough. Large grey lips are splattered with tan-brown icing as you bite and gulp whatever your maw can engulf. You feel your throat bulge with large helpings of peanut-chocolate crumb and frosting, flowing down like a fire hose. The front of the cardboard box is crushed by your chins as you use your tongue to lap every last sweet nutty morsel and hold it in your mouth. Licking only paper, you retract your large flabby head to see only empty muffin casings and a flattening muffin box. You bask in that all too familiar flavour and feeling for the last time, your ears fluttering daintily like butterfly wings as you savour the moment. Sighing through your trunk, you say farewell to flavour town and swallow your last helping of muffins. And as that bulge of dessert falls heavily into your now full stomach, your body starts to rumble uproariously.

Your entire form jiggles as you try to hold back this final and most turbulent of waves. You press hard into your belly, sweat on your wrinkled brow as you hope your tubular arms can at least ease the explosion of muchness rocking through your form. Although you’d love nothing more than to let go, you cannot ignore the creaking of your kitchen seat and the groan of your floorboards and how this sudden influx of weight could impact it. Your thighs tighten and press against each other, stretched underwear garrotting your crack and around your hip joints. Your tail stands on end as your rear jiggles like jello. Suddenly, as your flattened palms sink into your doughy middle, that building pressure releases all at once. What was once resistance on your palms is now full propulsion as your belly shoots outward with bulge, throwing your table forward against the opposite wall. As your trunk-like arms are launched up from your propulsed paunch you feel them smack against your chest, blooming and puffing up like fresh pillows up as the momentum smacks against your chins. Your ears unfurl outwards like batwings as your trunk throws you head up into the loudest and most euphoric toot since you were able to. Your calves and shins flood with fat, weighing heavily on your heavy wide feet as your thighs plump and seal any remaining thigh gap. Lastly, you feel the stretched thongs that is your underwear slip, thin, and disappear into the fatty folds of your hips and cheeks as your ass blossoms outwards with the rest of your form. With a sudden crunch and ceasing of wooden moaning, your astronomical ass crashes into your apartment floor.

Large splinters of aged wood and chunks of bent beam fly outward and up from the meteoric impact of your mass. You feel twinned craters form into your floorboards as that crash of momentum rocks and rolls the rest of your pump pachydermic form. Soothing your wobbling seat with your palm, you lurch back and forth trying to throw your immense weight forward so you can stand up. Stumbling forward with heavy quaking steps you settle yourself into an upright position. You are immense, having to hunch over to not scrape your scalp and ears on the ceiling. The only thing that competes with your height is your width; in a narrower building, your hips would be scraping and/or bending the walls. Arms and legs are now wrinkled bulging cylinders, pendulous and soft as they press and fold against their own joints. Feet and hands turned to padded circles, wider than dinner plates and decorated with pearly white nails. Face rounded and trunk-heavy with long pointed ivory growing above the upper lip. Your ears flap and droop idly with each head turn, hanging large and loose like sheets on a clothes line. A long and squishy trunk flexes with nimble dexterity, as well as snorting with large volume and brassy timbre. A large domed paunch wobbles just above the ground with a large plump rack sitting heavily atop. Finally, a gloriously gargantuan grey moon bounces over thunderous thighs with a ropey brush-tipped tail pressed firmly at the top of the crack. Suddenly, you feel one last rumble…

“BWUUUAAAARRRP!” It bellows around the room, shaking the foundations of your apartment. The relief of released pressure washes over as your stuffed gut at last settles. A few obligatory pats both front and back confirm the reality and the sheer weight of it all. If it wasn't any more obvious, you are now a prime and plump specimen of an elephant and you may be loving it.

Nearby, your phone begins to ring. Carefully and quickly you softly stomp your way over, curving your widened waist around precarious furniture not knocked by your earthquake of a landing. Using your trunk, you press the icon to answer.

“Hey, hope you’re doing well,” answers your friend, one you invited to the party. “Heard you had a mammoth mix-up with the delivery. Bad luck, pal. Maybe you forgot to check a box, but it ain’t like you to forget. Perhaps they should pay their workers more than peanuts! Anyway, I’ll keep an ear out for recommendations for other bakeries for next time. Don’t let it weigh you down, I’m sure it’ll be a ton of fun even with a less full table!”

You give a tusked smirk and respond with, “I’m not worrying about it. An empty catering table isn’t gonna be the biggest elephant in that room, trust me~”