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pangtasias-atelier · 2 months ago

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Sumo-sized Elyosians

Another commission for @dragonitemaniac this time featuring Dia-mant, Bo-uchero-n, and Mau-vier alongside his OC Ben, turning into some sumos after being summoned to As-kr. Had a lot of fun writing this cause I forgot how good like writing mind alteration is and I need to do more now ajsbjbjs

Also featuring some other kinks (flattening) at the end after the last line break

“Ahhh,” Boucheron sighs. Stretching his well-developed arms, he raises both of them above his head, two defined biceps framing his as he simultaneously cracks his back. “That was a good training, wasn't it? And we're even back in pretty good time,”

“I must admit, finally having a fourth member from our world makes a tremendous difference,” With the once tumultuous Tempest behind the group of four, Diamant happily gives Boucheron a pat on his back —both figuratively and literally. Not that Boucheron stumbles from the force.

The usual dark gray clouds that seem ready to rain down lighting upon any that approach it now resemble the usual dim yet cheerful pale clouds after a storm. And with their work done calming the monthly Tempest Trial, the four men begin to head out.

“Yeah, you did great Boucheron. Especially for your first time on the field. Took you long enough to make it to Askr,” Ben high fives him, the two bulkiest of the group loudly clapping hands.

Mauvier chimes in, hand on his chin. “Yes, but it must seem rather distasteful to those of other worlds that our team is solely made up of our own,”

“Yes, but for something as long as the Tempest Trials, it is best that we fight with comrades we already know,” Diamant responds.

“Besides, it's just the four of us from our world here in Askr. I think we have some leeway in our team. We only just got Boucheron here after how long? And after how many new heroes from Fodlan?” Ben rubs his wrist, right where he once used to wear his bracelet back in Elyos, back when he was most often the one wearing the strange bracelets. Not that the emblem residing in said bracelet was strange. Anything but, the Bracelet of the Samurai gifting Ben a well enjoyed companion. And now one of numerous companions missing in Askr, the Emblems also unsummoned like the rest of the army.

Boucheron simply shrugs his shoulders with a small chuckle from Ben’s rhetorical questions.

“These sacred seals did seem to ease the burden of the Tempest,” Mauvier comments upon noticing Ben’s fixation on his wrist. Holding up his hand, Mauvier examines the thin, yet expertly crafted ring gifted to him by the Summoner, Mauvier’s fashioned like Diamant and Boucheron’s own.

Boucheron begins to examine his own ring. “They didn’t do much though. At least, they sure didn’t feel like it,”

None of the men bother turning their backs as the serene clouds dwelling above the Tempest begin to loom behind them. White clouds turn into their once gray hue. The clouds swell in size, potent magic swirling through them.

“Perhaps. But I do sense magic dwelling within these,” Mauvier replies. “The Summoner gave you these as our assigned leader. What did they tell you about them?” Resting his hand back at his side, Mauvier —as well as the others— fail to notice the smallest hint of a glow to their sacred seals. Or the way the full, large clouds slowly drift away to leave a clearing in the center as they make a ring.

About to immediately respond, Diamant closes his mouth, eyes wide for a few seconds. “Hmmm… They said nothing much. Only that these will help us feel better in the future. At least I think so. I didn’t think too much of it at the time but how odd…” Diamant’s eyes glance at the ground, as if expecting some divine jolt of memory to remind him of something else the Summoner said.

“Well- huh?” Ben is promptly silenced with the bright addition of a portal behind them all. His biceps shielding his eyes, he slowly lowers his brawny arm to gaze at the sudden intrusion with wide eyes.

As do the other three, all of the men completely silent.

The portal much larger than all others the group has seen —especially in sheer width alone— the usual bright sky blue coloration takes on a darker cobalt tinge. The flowing bundles of magic crackle through the portal as it struggles to maintain its shape. The unstable portal calls for all the magic in the area. Magic that continues to be flowed into the portal by the clouds hanging above it. And the sacred seals as well.

Perhaps too late —no, clearly too late— Mauvier finally notices the trail of magic. “The seals! Take them off, now!” He commands. Not that he can do anything to remove it; his fingers tug at the jewelry that now refuses to budge an inch. Unlike his body that begins to slowly get dragged towards the portal.

“I got you Diamant!” Ben holds onto their leader with both hands. Feet digging into the ground, the cruel brick refuses to give him much hold. Ben’s entire body tensing. He holds on strong. Even as Boucheron and Mauvier end up swallowed into the tempest. And the two of them follow not long after, Ben’s own strength unable to do much against the raging tempest of magic.

“Hey! Wake up already. Man… waking up Diamant was way easier than you. You’re practically a log,” Boucheron slowly shakes Ben.

The Tempest calms down soon after, the portal disappearing shortly after.

Boucheron the first to get dragged into the portal, the axe fighter is the lone conscious man in the clearing. Both Ben and Muavier lay on the floor. The trio are thankfully safe for the meanwhile. Though so far, the group has little to worry about when it comes to animals, none heard through their guttural growls or the rustling of leaves from those hidden. The secure yet sizable clearing provides enough secrecy for them with the numerous trees blocking all but one pre-built, worn out path. A path that Diamant already went down to scout ahead for people.

“Maybe this’ll help…” Boucheron whispers to himself, slowly straddling him before placing his hands on Ben’s pecs, Ben’s chest an appreciable size larger than Boucheron’s own. Boucheron does get a good view at least, the plunging neckline of Ben’s wolf knight attire leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination when it comes to his abs and pecs. “Wake up! This is serious, man,” He squeezes Ben’s tits, fingers groping and massaging his rack while shaking him up and down.

To which Ben does respond to. First with a soft moan, and a certain pressure placed on Boucheron’s ass for a brief second before he immediately pushes himself off of Ben. And secondly, by actually waking up. Ben’s eyes slowly flutter open. The warm rays of sunshine greet him as he wakes up as well as the tree line above him, the sight clearly different from the tower housing the Tempest.

“Where are we!?” Ben jumps up, standing on his own two feet as he draws his knives. Except his hands meet nothing but the leather fabric of his belts.

“We don’t have weapons. The portal must’ve taken them away,” Boucheron sighs. “Now help me wake Mauvier up,”

The older man groans, as if hearing Boucheron’s words —or knowing what awaited him if he didn’t wake up promptly. Mauvier stands up slowly. One hand resting on his forehead, he simply scans the area around them. “I take it our best bet to find Diamant would be to take the path then?”

“Wait, where’s Diam-”

Boucheron places a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “Relax, you two. Jeez, you guys just woke up. Diamant went scouting ahead while I woke up you two logs. It’d be no good if I went on my own, right?” Besides, everything seems pretty pleasant here so far. So why don’t we just- Finally you’re back!” Boucheron waves over Diamant.

“Everything looks peaceful here,” Diamant plainly states. “We should head down the path now that everyone is awake,” He motions for everyone to follow with his hand as he heads back down once more.

The four of them walk in silence. The only sound accompanying them is the occasional bit of gravel being kicked around beneath their boots. The rest of the environment is under a still hush; not a single bird or beast makes themselves known. Their walk goes on for quite some time. One step followed by another, they simply walk down the single path laid out in front of them.

“So…” Boucheron is the first to break the silence, speaking up after the group walks around yet another curve of the path that must be coming down from some sort of hill. “Did you manage to find a way out of here? This place doesn’t look too bad, or even dangerous at all, but this is still weird,”

“I might have found a way out,” Diamant walks down another short curved bend, the path still not diverging once as it follows the landscape of all the greenery.

“Might? You didn’t confirm this supposed exit?” Mauvier’s brow curves upward.

“There must be something dangerous there then. We should be able to take it on together. But we don’t have weapons,” Ben continues to search through his multiple belts once more. And even his pockets, but he ends up empty handed just the same.

“No. Nothing like that. It’s just, it is a rather strange sight. Though nothing to be worried about, I believe,” Diamant sighs. “You three will understand once we get closer,”

And the three of them listen and follow him. They keep on with their uneventful trek down the path. They only begin to pause their trek upon hearing a couple grunts and loud movement, the noises distinctly masculine. A break that Diamant quickly has them continuing on from with a brief glance. The noise gets louder as they begin to reach further down the path, the path widening out finally as well as offering different paths. To which Diamant simply keeps leading them. Closer and closer to the loudening cacophony of noise, a couple of conversations now made out between the noise. The group walks down the wider road in silence for a couple of minutes. They only begin to talk upon finally reaching the first point of interest ever since being suddenly warped.

“Those are some… rather big men,” Mauvier stays silent afterwards. His eyes simply take in the scene in front of him as they shift their focus to and fro between the myriad of husky sumos in the near distance.

Though big seems too inadequate of a size for the rotund men, Mauvier’s words a disservice to the large, hefty men in front of him. Especially with them all naked save for their mawashis, so much strong yet flabby skin exposed. All a variety of sizes, even the smallest of the sumos make the group of four built men look rather average sized, their bulging, pudgy bellies jiggling as they move all their girth, their well-trained muscles —the strong, muscley arms and legs clearly not just for show— seem just as broad as the team of four’s own built selves. Meanwhile, the largest of the sumos that they can see make them look downright puny in comparison. Despite all their monumental girth —the sumos larger than any man any of them have ever seen in Elyos— they manage to maneuver all their tremendous bulk. Their bloated figures are far more blubberry than the average person; each tree trunk wide thigh is coated in a generous portion of lard which hides the almost as generous musculature underneath it all. The same is true for their beefy arms that they move around with a semblance of ease despite all the lard in the way.

Which they need to do as they fight, a large chunk of men in some sort of competitive match, others watching while even more gorge themselves or train away.

Ben stays silent as he watches them. Unlike the other three who continue to gawk and stare at the scene in front of them, Ben takes furtive glances at the hefty hunks of men before him. A good deal of his focus is placed on adjusting his tightening pants. And not thinking too intently about the men's sizes: the amount of food they shovel into their mouth, the way they flaunt and show off their size, the easy excuse to grab and gripe other equally large men, and the way they all seem eager to grow still. All of it is too tantalizing and alluring for Ben. Plus, the idea that pops into his mind as he glances at Diamant, Boucheron, and Mauvier, his imagination getting the best of his as he adjusts his now far too snug pants.

Boucheron's eyes finally widen after squinting for so long at the spectacle. “I think I've read this before. All those men have to be sumos. Kagetsu even talked about it to me before. Something about it being somewhat common where he comes from,”

“We can't possibly be in Solm. I doubt even the Pale Sands would be filled with such vegetation,” Mauvier’s eyes squint as he takes a closer look at the sumos.

“Mauvier's right. Besides, if we were in Solm, there wouldn't be a portal for us to get back to begin with. As long as we head to that building and take the portal inside, we'll be fine. I've already spoken to some of the men. This is just a vacation spot from the way they make it sound,”

“So, they're from the Order, then. Perhaps this is what the Summoner meant by that cryptic message.” Mauvier mentions. His mind is already made up as he spots those from other worlds.

“Even better then. I've always wanted to try some sumo with the way Kagetsu talked about it. Though even I might be a bit too weak for some of these men,” Boucheron gently elbows Diamant’s arm, chuckling to himself.

“Perhaps, but we should still-”

“Let's go into the building!” Ben joins the conversation, interjecting Diamant as he stands up. “I saw an emblem and he went right into that building,” Ben points right where the other three were once staring at, the door now open as a broad, massive man slowly lumbers his way through the doorway. His flowing mane of brown hair swishes behind him as he struggles to maneuver his legs with his gut draping down to his knees. Despite the distance —and how much of the width the man's ass takes up of the doorway, so much fabric clearly needed for his mawashi— the azure blue light manages to peek through the door.

“I agree. Let's be sure of our way back before we see more about this place,” Diamant starts walking once again, leading his teammates closer to the practicing sumos and more importantly, where the portal back to Askr should be. He also keeps quiet on the way Ben's attention has been fixated less on the portal and more on the supposed emblem waddling inside.

As the group make their way closer, their concerns are immediately dispelled upon the first person who spots them; well, two, Askr and Eikþyrnir stop their match with each other to greet the quartet of newcomers. The two of them come lumbering over, both enormously engorged men wobbling as they slowly waddle their fat asses.

“You're back! And you brought your friends,” Askr greets them all. His focus is mostly on Diamant as he slowly raises a flabby yet beefy arm at them. Far more tits than ass, Askr’s upper body is heavily caked in lard. Though his chest has scant amount of definition to it, the slight lack of sag despite his plump chest giving away his hidden musculature. His hefty swaying gut sags past his crotch, the flabby ball of lard for a stomach obscuring a good portion of his mawashi. His bulging love handles help cover another good portion of it. His lower half still filled out as well, his mawashi fits him well; only a small amount of the uppermost bits of flab from his thighs squish against it.

“Portal's that way if you want to head back. Though I'd say you all should train here instead,” Eikbyrnir points towards the building with a big, meaty arm. Unlike the mostly butterball that is Askr, Eikþyrnir's figure shows off more of his dedication to the craft of working out. Especially in his legs. His legs well worked out, his bottom heavy figure moves around with complete ease despite the large gut Eikþyrnir sports along with the flab swathed over his body. His legs still jiggle as he continues to stretch during the silence, already getting ready for his next match. Same for his broad, flabby biceps that flex with each arm stretch, the meaty biceps covered in a smaller yet still sizable coating of lard.

“Well, I guess we should enjoy ourselves and train first then,” Boucheron eyes Eikþyrnir. Most prominently his arms and legs.

“Or help yourselves to the food instead if you'd prefer. Everything you need will be in the building,” Askr adds, a satisfied couple of pats to his gut.

Ben tries his best not to stare. Not that he can help it; his eyes simply wander back and forth from both Askr and Eikþyrnir. He appraises both massive figures. “We could do both,,,” He trails off, grateful for the other three men to be talking amongst themselves. Though Askr and Eikþyrnir smile at him.

“We can all decide together after we find the portal. At the very least, we now know we can leave whenever we want,” Mauvier starts heading back to the building without another word.

“Let's go, you two,” Diamant follows right behind Mauvier. And Boucheron and Ben follow them as well.

“It's been some time since we had newcomers,” Askr opens up a portal once the four’s attention is not on him. He plops pieces of sugary, buttery bread into his mouth.

Eikþyrnir crouches —his body tenses as all his bulk presses up against itself— getting ready as he looks up at Askr. “They'll make fine additions, now get ready,”

The two resume their sumo wrestling as the newcomers continue on their way.

“There are a lot of men here,” Ben points out as they almost reach the building.

He specifically points out one of the larger men he's seen, Raphael gorging on food along with Lukas. Raphael certainly larger than Lukas, the once absurdly beefy man clearly has been affected by the amount of food provided. Not as large as Eikþyrnir, Raphael is one degree removed in size. Especially in musculature with Raphael much more blubbery. And Lukas more petite than Raphael, Lukas’ body has an even higher proportion of flab compared to him. His body is much flabbier, his girth wobbling as he stuffs more and more food into his mouth. Though the two men are still small next to the absolute lard asses that are Stahl and Sylvain. Both cavaliers absolutely enjoy their food. Stahl much more as he shovels another piece of butter cake into his mouth, another followed shortly after before he can properly finish chewing that one. Rather bottom heavy, Stahl’s mawashi is tight on him, his figure clearly not taking advantage of the training areas provided. Sylvain much the same, his lazy self has somewhat more muscle than Stahl but not by much. He does weigh less than him at least, Sylvain More top heavy with his large breasts and dough, flabby arms with only a scant amount of muscle underneath it all

Despite not being far from the new quartet, neither of them make any motion to greet the other two. Nor do they even say much to the other besides a few grunts and words.

“Yeah. And they sure are enjoying themselves,” Boucheron watches the closest sumo match, his steps guided by Diamant in front of him.

Saber and Gregor currently wrestling with one another, the two mercenaries no longer resemble the once lean yet built figures they once had. Certainly not as large as most of the other men, both of them have a fine addition of pudge on their bodies, abs replaced by a belly and pecs washed away by flab to turn into puffy yet defined breasts. Their defined legs from traveling and fighting still hold their strength, their legs now simply much broader from their added girth much like their arms. Flab squished against flab, the two refuse to budge against the other. Meanwhile, nearby, Niles watches the two men, not really cheering on either of them. Instead, he watches them in silence. Niles grins at the spectacle in front of him. His figure is also well received by the new environment, his body much more plump than his once svelte body, his belly pooling into his lap while he sits down and enjoys a hefty meal with his show.

Diamant and Mauvier keep quiet. They simply observe in silence at the scenes in front of them, the two of them unconcerned but still confused. The men training at least feel more normal to them, the sight common to Diamant from Brodia’s culture and Mauvier from his own training.

Both Deen and Python training, the two men give opposite ends of effort into it. Python focuses on simple stretches, his more simply pudgy figure enjoying the more nimble and lithe motions followed by the ease of squats and pushups. Not that he puts much effort into those as well, his pudgy body clearly struggling despite his smaller size. Deen enjoys working with the heavy weights provided on the other hand, his biceps lifting the hefty weights with ease. His body is the complete opposite of his former figure. Deen is absolutely massive, his gut getting in the way as he lifts weights. Same as his large breasts do, his broad, bulky biceps squishing against them. And Deen’s efforts are only furthered as Raphael joins him, Deen moving onto bigger and heavier weights so as to not be outdone. Python simply groans as Lukas joins him, Lukas outdoing him as well as mildly lecturing him.

But despite the scenes before the quartet, none of the sumos even bother them, all of them and many more too eagerly absorbed in their training and eating. Which the group is thankful for as they finally reach the building without another disturbance, Askr and Eikþyrnir kind enough to tell them the way out. None of them say anything at the foot of the building, the massive building looming in front of them. Most obviously, the building is incredibly wide, far wider than anything they've ever seen in Elyos or even Askr for that matter.

Diamant simply opens the door, the massive door opening with a simple touch, the door wide enough for all four men to walk beside one another and leave ample extra space. The door promptly closes behind them once they all enter. But more importantly to all of them, the portal back to Askr is right in front of them.

Well, behind a barrier, the translucent sheen of magic fizzling as it protects it.

“What is this!?” Diamant slams his fist against the barrier. “They tricked us!”

“Hmmm, why don't we try the sides of the building? Maybe they'll remove the barrier,” Ben comments. Though his mind is focused on scanning the massive room, his reason for entering not found.

True to Ben's statement, the building only has two other ways to go, one massive hallway stretching out East much like the other stretches West.

“This could simply be a protective measure to stop anyone from entering the area through this portal,” Mauvier quickly whispers something to Diamant, the two speaking back and forth before speaking up again. “Diamant and I will head to the right,”

“That's right. The faster we can be sure of our exit, the better. Besides, Mauvier is most likely right about the barrier,” Diamant begins to walk down the right path with Mauvier, the two brooking no arguing.

“Well, that just leaves us going left then. Hopefully this just isn't boring,” Boucheron shrugs and does as told.

Ben does the same and follows him, the two men walking down the massive hallway side by side —an uncommon occurrence with their broad selves.

“No sign of that emblem, huh?” Boucheron asks.

“No. I swear I saw him walk in here. I promise,”

“I believe you. And I don't mind, it gives us another reason to explore this area anyways. Speaking of,” Boucheron stops.

As does Ben, Ben furrowing his brows before glancing behind himself. He finds nothing but the unadorned walls.

Their conversation cut short upon reaching a wide door —said door being the only possible way out of the barren hallway— both of the men stand before the doorway that is nearly as wide as the hallway itself.

“We might as well try to see if that emblem came down this way. Or even a way to enter the portal,” Ben pushes the door open, the door pushed aside as easily as throwing a knife.

Boucheron follows right behind Ben, the two entering together. And the door shuts behind them the same as last time. But unlike the broad, plain hallway they were once in, the two men end up in a single, more expansive and much more embellished room. A few benches are lined throughout the room. As well as draped clothes and straps of armor scattered around and seemingly left forgotten on the provided shelves. And along with every shelf, a fresh pair of mawashi are lined down them, each basket prepared with one.

“Well, it’s obvious that we found the changing room,” Ben slowly walks forward, eyes scanning the walls for any sort of door besides the one they just came from. But he finds none.

“We got the short end of the stick then,” Boucheron says as Ben shakes his head. With no hesitation, one quick step followed by another, he heads over to the nearest basket. “When in Elusia, right?”

“We should go find the Diamant and Mauvier first though. They’ll probably need our help if their side has more rooms,” Ben’s feet stay firmly planted by the door.

“Who said anything about not helping them? Let’s just change so that way we’re ready for some training once they have the portal unlocked. Come on, don’t think I didn't see you eyeing all those guys back there,” Boucheron sits on the bench, waiting for Ben to join him. When no movement happens, he sighs. “Seriously? The emblem you saw could be back outside there too. Now’s your chance to train with him again,” Boucheron stands up with a smile as Ben turns around.

“Fine. But we’re still helping Diamant and Mauvier first. And then we can train together afterwards,” Ben says as he grabs a mawashi from the basket next to Boucheron. “We’ve slacked off a bit,”

“It has been a while. Last time we trained together was in the Somniel, I’m pretty sure,” Boucheron starts undressing by taking off his shirt first. He slowly shrugs off the orange clothing, the fabric wrinkled up in a bundle as he tosses it onto the bench. Still needing to take off his brown tank top, the low neckline of it strained by his broad chest that spills out the side of the fabric, Boucheron takes his sweet time in appreciating his figure. Especially in his biceps as he flexes all his hard work from lugging around and swinging mighty axes. “I have to make sure you don’t pass me up,” Boucheron squeezes his right bicep as he flexes. His fingers don’t even come close to encircling all of his beefy brawn.

Ben takes his sweet time in unlooping and unbuckling the multitude of belts affixed to himself. The sturdy leather ends up dumped onto the bench while his body thanks itself for the extra bit of breathing room, meaty thighs already chafing against itself no longer having to worry about yet another thing creating friction. With no more straps of leather in the way, Ben tosses off his fur lined coat, his entire upper torso now exposed in an instant. “I am getting pretty close though,” His biceps indeed large, he flexes the two broad arms for a quick second. Before Ben goes to show off his biggest asset with a smirk. “I think I have you beat here though,” His large chest exposed, the two fat pecs jut out with no more tight clothing in the way to hold them back. Ben shows them off, doing a side chest pose as his tits seem to swell up in size, both meaty tits pressed against his biceps. Biceps which are admittedly smaller than Boucheron’s own, throwing knives only able to help keep the definition and musculature at his size so much.

“Alright. Yeah, you have a big chest. I remember how often you did pushups back in the Somniel. But I’m no slouch either,” Boucher pulls off his tank top. Rather slowly. He shows off his chiseled six pack, his firm, defined abs still retaining their definition. As well as his obliques, Boucheron’s abdomen more defined than Ben’s own. The hemline of his shirt slowly lifted off of his skin, his plump chest enjoys the fresh air. Boucheron grabs a hold of his left pec, fingers squeezing against the dense muscle. Not too far behind Ben, the difference between the two men’s chest is still apparent, especially with them being nearly the exact same height. Then Boucheron begins to take off his boots and pants, shrugging off the brown clothes and ending up in nothing but his trunks.

Ben subsequently does the same. His pants and boots end up forgotten somewhere behind him as he strips down to only his briefs.

Boucheron’s trunks show off his shapely ass, the bubble butt created from rigorous training. His two shapely cheeks fill out the back, the waistband just straining enough to reach past them. The low waistline also shows off his six pack and defined v-line, the trunks sitting comfortably at least there. Unlike the lower half which struggles against his big thighs; Boucheron’s large legs fill out the trunks, the material bunched up as it struggles. The pouch of his trunk is also rather filled out like every other inch of it. Meanwhile, Ben’s briefs are similarly tight. The back has little issue containing his ass, Ben’s rear still a nice, perky little butt. But, the lack of material from the high cut shows off a sliver of his ass. Same with the high cut in the front; his large, defined thighs are exposed, his legs free to breathe as they press up against each other. Ben’s thighs have nothing to worry about when it comes to being constrained. Unlike his crotch that stretches and bulges against the extra support provided by the clothing.

“Well, I’d say we’re about tied when you take everything into account,” Boucheron nods as he appraises Ben and himself one last time.

Ben nods just the same, his lips curving upward as he fully disrobes and puts on his mawashi. “Yeah. It just means we really have to train here once we get a chance,”

“You’re on,” Boucheron slides up his Mawashi after taking off his trunks. Though he glances down once the material doesn’t sit the best on his lower half. “Hey Ben, I think we got ones that are too big,” He holds the mawashi up with his hands, the material too large to even sit on him without falling.

“Yeah. Maybe we can adjust them?” Ben looks down at his own mawashi as he simultaneously holds it up, so it doesn’t fall. Properly looking at the object for the first time, he finds no way of easily adjusting it.

Mauvier and Diamant walking down the barren hallway, they continue to find nothing down the short walk before they end up reaching a door. They simply open it up without a single word. And yet again, neither speak up once the door closes behind him much like when they first entered the building.

Though it doesn’t matter as Ben and Boucheron can’t help but moan, both men suddenly red in the face as their transformation begins to take place.

Standing before them is a quaint yet massive kitchen, the room adorned with tables capable of satisfying the number of patrons needed for such a spacious kitchen. Except the kitchen goes completely unused at the moment. Not a single person cooking or baking, even the countertops look unused for quite some time as the two men begin to check out the room. But neither of them find anything of interest. Nor even an exit besides the one they entered from. The two men speak amongst themselves as they continue to search the room for possibly anything at this point.

“This must be where the food they were eating outside was made, but still,” Mauvier wipes off some dust off of the counters, his frown deepening.

“You said you sensed some magic coming down this hallway, right? So, the mechanism for the barrier should be here,” Diamant glances back at the dining area but still finds nothing.

Mauvier sighs. “Theoretically, it should be here. But I sent Boucheron and Ben down the other way in case I was wrong. Which unfortunately it seems to be the case,”

“Well, nothing to do besides head…” Diamant trails off. Brows furrowed, his nose twitches as he begins to sniff the air.

Mauvier’s back tenses, his arms rigid as he goes to grip his lance. Only to find nothing just like when they first warped to this strange place. Immediately turning around, his concern immediately turns to confusion.

“So that’s what I smelled. It smelled too savory to be poison,” Diamant stares right where Mauvier’s eyesight is focused on.

Standing before them on the largest table is a veritable feast of food, countless dishes somehow freshly made if the tempting aroma wafting off of them is any indication. The plates of food barely have any vacant space on the table. With no one else in the room besides them, Diamant and Mauvier reach the same exact conclusion.

“This must be the magic I sensed,” Mauvier takes a couple of slow steps forward.

Diamant follows behind him, his paces a bit more rushed before he overtakes him. “So, this has to be how the food is made here. It makes sense with how large everyone is here and why the kitchen looks to be unused,” Diamant stops before the table; he stares at the massive spread of food provided, mouth beginning to salivate at the myriad of dishes right before them, dishes waiting to be enjoyed.

Mauvier takes a few steps forward so as to stand slightly behind Diamant. And he places a hand on his shoulder, his extra height making it easier on him. “We don’t know if this food is meant for anyone else. Someone will most likely be coming for it soon considering how eager everyone outside seems to be eating,”

“You have a point,” Diamant relents with a groan. He shakes his head, clearing his thoughts and remembering about the portal. “If the mechanism for the portal isn’t here then” -Diamant smells the tantalizing food laid about before them once again. “Why don’t we wait and see if anyone comes for the food?” Diamant’s mind begins to grow fuzzy, his brain becoming clouded with thoughts of the food before him. But he does patiently wait as he said he would. He instead simply remains standing as the time slowly goes by.

“It would be best if we head back the other way,” Mauvier places his hand back on Diamant, this time gripping the man’s arm, squeezing his bicep. Glancing at the door, he lets out a sigh of relief as everything else looks completely normal. Mauvier winces as his stomach growls, a guttural sound emanating from the sudden yearning abyss forming in his gut. He places a hand on his stomach, as if to quell the intense cravings he begins to feel.

“It’s been hours since we’ve eaten anything, Mauvier. We pretty much haven’t eaten all day,” Diamant plops himself down on the bench provided —the area well equipped and accustomed to much larger figures using the room. The magic working on the far more susceptible to magic Diamant than Mauvier’s staff wielding self, Diamant decides to waste no time in enjoying himself to the food provided. He takes a bite of some fried chicken first, the crispy skin ripping apart as he tears into it. Then he helps himself to the grilled and steamed vegetables laid out next to it, all of it coated in a hefty helping of butter. Diamant still has his table manners at the least. Only after he finishes his plate does he move to a smaller second plate, grilled beef served over a bowl of rice. “Help yourself, Mauvier. It’s delicious,” Diamant says after finishing his current forkful of food, his stomach still gurgling in hunger as he continues to partake in the food.

Food that Mauvier stares down at, his face wincing as his stomach continues to crave food, his body no longer simply asking anymore, his body begging to be sated as he finally caves in and sits down. “We’ll leave after we have enough,” He says, his voice more so a faint whisper as he reaches for the bowl of clam chowder. And he begins to take his first mouthful, chunks of potatoes and onion mixed with pork and onion practically dissolving in his mouth. Mauvier takes his time, nursing his soup as he takes occasional bites from it. He waits to finish his current bit of food before going back for more. He only drinks the soup once he finally reaches the tail end of the dish, much faster than he normally would.

Ben and Boucheron struggle to remain standing. Their knees shake buckle as their entire bodies begin to be enveloped in a blanket of warmth, the caressing sensation quickly feeling like the sweltering heat of Solm as they continue to warm up.

Mauvier reaches for another plate of food, his pace quickening along with Diamant’s; both men begin to grow flushed in the face, increasingly heavy panting and moaning escaping their lips as they begin to eat faster, their transformation beginning.

And as their bodies begin to swell.

Boucheron holds up his mawashi with his jittering right hand —his left hand no longer able to hold onto the far too big clothing as it now caresses and fondles his newfound belly. A small, petite, little thing, Boucheron’s new addition reminiscent of his bulking days gone a day or two too long. Until it continues to expand, his gut slowly taking up more space as it bulges outward in front of him; his belly swells up before his very eyes —squinting from pleasure as he tries his very best to not fully tilt his head back. He shifts his left arm to under his gut, his also growing arm put to shame from its much more stagnant growth. Even despite the extra size it begins to sport not just from fat but from muscle as well, Boucheron’s biceps now larger than his head and easily capable of putting anyone from Elyos and even the Order of Heroes to shame. And yet, it struggles to hold up Boucheron’s stomach as it simply keeps on growing. Once it’s large enough to smother an entire chair does it begin to sag in earnest, his stomach drooping far past his crotch and midway down his expanding thighs upon him letting go of his engorged gut. His thighs thankfully grow sufficiently large enough to properly fill out his mawashi. The white fabric even begins to squish against his blubbery self, ass and thighs still growing.

Ben doesn’t fare much differently. His body expanding, his figure begins by putting muscle on his already adonis figure. He fills out at a more even rate, arms and legs both becoming rather brutish in the pure strength they contain as they grow and fill out with more and more muscle, Ben’s biceps capable enough to tear a bundle of spears while his legs begin to vie for more and more space against each other as his junk starts to get pushed forward from the growing lack of space. It doesn’t take long for his mawashi to be properly filled out, large tree trunk thighs that struggle to be close to each other from their shirt girth pressed up against the fabric as his once bubble butt which seems to jiggle from every slight movement Ben makes firms further up and becomes further pronounced behind him. Every labored breath he takes seems to add more muscle to his frame, his well-defined pecs filling up and jutting further out as they press up against his biceps, and his abs grow more defined, his glistening washboard abs seemingly bulging from as he continues to expand with muscle. So much so that he starts to struggle with moving. His over swollen biceps struggle to be lifted up when the rest of his titanic body is pressed up against them that makes even the most dedicated of warriors or berserkers seem downright pathetically puny, next to Ben.

Both of the men simply continue growing and swelling. The two of them muttering to themselves and to each other, the words come out choked by moans as they grow. Boucheron and Ben are barely aware of themselves. Only able to enjoy their growing figures, the two men don’t even realize the changes to their own minds. Not that they even can, old, distant memories of themselves warped and distorted. Memories become hazy. Boucheron’s memories of being a retainer become fuddled, of his time as an avid reader or his time simply training his muscles, and Ben’s memories of living in the forest, of following his own path rather than being a knight, of finding and encountering the Bracelet of the Samurai, those too begin to distort, both men’s experiences are washed away under a torrent of new information, their old muscular selves now replaced with memories of always being so large, of being so massive. The two become quite aware of their true size they were always meant to be as they grow, Ben and Boucheron’s minds filled up with false memories and experiences as sumos. They also begin to fill up with the not so false feelings of their true emotions, well controlled, hidden feelings about each other and the rest of the team bubbling up to the surface of their minds.

Eventually, the rest of Boucheron’s body slowly fills out as well to be something resembling catching up to his enormously bloated gut. His thighs continue to swell and grow, legs blimping with both muscle and fat, but mostly fat from the way his body continues to lose most definition.

But it lags far behind his immense gut; where bulbous thighs would press up against each other, they instead press up against Boucheron’s enormous gut, his stomach swollen enough to fully blanket another man with more than enough room to fit another. Boucheron’s growing tits —tits that are fatter than his own bloated, hefty face— use his enormous couch crushing stomach as nothing more than a platform to rest on, his bulging breasts diminutive next to the cascading wall of lard Boucheron has for a stomach. Boucheron’s arms struggle to move around from the lard encasing them. They barely reach past his own tits, tree trunk sized arms only able to move so much with too much of his own size limiting him. And unbeknownst to Boucheron, his mind preoccupied with simply enjoying all his newfound grandeur as he’s always known it to be, remembering just how difficult it is to move at his size, his mawashi begins to grow with him as it changes as well. His formerly white mawashi slowly compliments him properly, the fabric turning an orange shade; gold trims eventually form as well, the bright trimming given a small, nearly imperceptible teal border to it so as to match him.

And just as soon as Ben’s body begins to be too much for him to handle, most flexibility lost and mobility not too far off, his body slowly starts to be coated in a soft layer of flab. It starts off slow like his expansion of muscle, all of his mass cushioned by lard before it grows in earnest as more and more fat expands on his figure. Ben’s musculature is all washed away by lard, like cliffs smashed against by the sea. His figure simply continues to bulge further and further outward, arms and legs blimping up as they start to lose all definition. Ben grows all over, washboard abs quickly turning into a gut that easily makes it past his mawashi, his now a calming cream color much like the fur he once wore. Fur that would now cost a fortune to be enough to cover his expansive form. His mawashi also gains a red trim to it, similar to his old attire he can no longer even remember. And brown cross patterning appears over the trim, the design reminiscent to all his belts from carrying knives, not that a belt can even fit over an over engorged arm that’s larger than a man’s torso, much less his waistline. Ben’s chest fills out further, pecs now completely gone and replaced by two enormous tits that sag and splay down his stomach. Breasts large enough and slathered in so much fat that they still resemble the stomachs of the smaller sumos they saw despite the muscle hidden behind all of Ben’s lard.

“B-Boucheron…” Ben mutters with one eye open, his other closed as his beat red face huffs, a few errant moans escaping him.

“Hnggghh…” Is all Boucheron replies. His own face red, his bloated face jiggles as he heavily breathes. He takes his time catching his breath, unsure as to why his body feels exerted but all thoughts leave his mind as he gazes upon Ben. “You’re… hot as… always…” Boucheron stutters, mind slowly changing Ben’s former appearance to match his current one, all memories of Ben slowly replaced with new ones —memories that Ben’s bloated figure takes up most of the space. Doing his best to take a step, Boucheron’s enormous gut gets in the way of his lumbering waddling. But despite how his gut now rests on the floor, bottom layer of lard grazing and resting on the ground as it juts out a couple feet in front of him, he manages to take a couple of steps towards Ben. A couple steps only needed with how expansive amount of space the two take up by themselves, let alone together. Boucheron goes to grab Ben, but both of their bodies get in the way. “So big…”

“Y-yeah…” Ben’s memories also changing, they easily swap over to Boucheron’s new size. He doesn’t bother questioning a single thing. Ben merely enjoys Boucheron’s presence. And the way their lard squished together, rolls of flab pressed up against not only their own bodies, but up against each other’s. “Your stomach is huge,” Ben plainly replies as he tries his best to reach for it. But he can’t, not with his own enormity getting in the way, both men’s faces standing feet apart from each other as their guts press up and get in the way. But the sheer enamorment in both of their faces clearly show their intentions to grab and fondle each other.

Boucheron’s mind slowly begins to clear up, brain no longer addled from all the memories adjusting over. “But you’re big all over,” Boucheron gazes upon Ben’s sheer size. Both of them enormous and around the same size, Ben’s entire body clearly used every last inch of itself to hold all of its lard. Like a complete butterball, every bit of himself is completely massive. Especially compared to Boucheron’s self, his arms, legs, tits, ass, and even his face smaller next to Ben’s own sheer display of girth. And yet, Boucheron’s massive gut still puts everything else to shame, his gut now seemingly capable of filling out and crushing an entire bed.

“Mmhmm,” Ben agrees, his face flushed as he tries and fails to flex his biceps that he barely lifts up an inch before giving up. “Let’s find Diamant and Mauvier,”

Diamant and Mauvier’s asses are still firmly planted on the bench. The only time either men even merely rise a few inches up from their seat is to grab another plate of food.

And despite their sizes, the two men somehow manage to still move, two walls of lard slowly lumbering down the building as the door opens up for them and walk down the massive hallway that now barely struggles to contain them, flab brushing up against the walls that tremble from their steps.

Diamant’s mind a bit further along than Mauvier’s, he eagerly grabs at whatever food that tempts him. Which happens to be meat, meat, and more meat. Diamant occasionally grabs and eats sides of vegetables that tempt him, but the buttery roasted sides are nothing more than a simple stop to his true journey of indulging in meat. He still manages to eat with something resembling decorum. Especially for his Brodian heritage, the festy warriors of his country never the most courteous when it comes to table manners. But even his fervent eating comes close to surpassing the usual maximum of what is allowed. Diamant nearly begins to shovel more food into his mouth before he can truly appreciate and savor the taste. Or properly wash it down with ale. Diamant simply takes another bite the near instant he finishes swallowing the prior one. Diamant grabs whatever he craves from whatever plate is in front of him, wishing to sample and satisfy himself.

Mauvier still takes his time eating, or at least something resembling it. He savors all of his food before going onto the next plate. He does let out a few choked moans, however, his face a bright flushed red. Much like Diamant, Mauvier immediately gravitates more towards the meaty plates of food —of which there are countless. Though he takes his time in indulging them as well as enjoying the soups and vegetables provided. But no matter how he tries, Mauvier’s gut still continues to feel like an empty black hole; his stomach demands and begs for more and more food. And Mauvier obliges, his pace picking up as he slowly begins to now have two plates of food in front of him at a time, Muavier picking and devouring from both.

So engrossed in their food, neither of them even pay attention to their growing figures.

Mauvier’s figure filling rather slowly, he somehow begins to pack on muscle despite all of his gorging. The food laced with magic does its work on him, Mauvier’s clothes growing snug. A fact that Mauvier pays little attention to. Or even at all as the strap of leather holding his hip guards begin to grow a bit snug, Mauvier preferring to indulge himself with the fine spread of food in front of him instead. Neither does he pay attention to the armor on his arms and shoulders growing more constrained, shoulders broadening and widening as do his biceps, armor and clothing concealing the hulking figure Mauvier begins to obtain as he continues to gorge himself. But no sooner as his brawny body begins to show does he begin to gain a heaping portion of flab on his body. His armor and all the straps of leather that come with it start to struggle in earnest from his increased size. But even the cold metal digging into his clothes are little issue to the magic. The very instant something begins to become an issue for Mauvier’s growing body, his armor comes right off, hunks of metal falling off of him like a coin tossed into a fountain. They dissipate before they clink onto the ground, as if they were never there to begin with. His thighs slowly pool further and further onto the bench, poofy pants no longer as roomy as they once were with a set of large thighs and a large posterior that slowly begins to drape off the end of the large bench.

Which might as well be the case as Mauvier’s brain slowly changes as the potent magic demands it. All of his years of experience slowly fizzle away, memories washed off as magic replaces all his experiences with one befitting his large size. Memories of eating and training, memories of being a sumo. Memories of Diamant and the other men, Mauvier’s own deeply dug feelings slowly drudged up.

Diamant’s body bloats up nicely from all of his eating. With every bite he takes, more flab is slathered onto his body. All of Diamant’s body is coated by a hefty layer as he continues to eat more and more food in a vain attempt to satisfy his hunger. The bit of muscle he gets from all his gorging ends up immediately covered up by lard. Diamant’s stomach begins to pool onto his lap. The billowing gut he slowly starts to sport more and more of is held back by the straps of his belt, the expensive leather acting as a dam for this blubbery gut. His thighs slowly begin to take up more of the bench, pants growing snug as Diamant merely continues to grow as if nothing were happening to him. All the belts he has on his chest grow snug as well as his once broad pecs easily become noticeable moobs that press up against his clothes. Clothes that outline them as well; his chest continues to expand outward, attempting to break free from the clutches of his belts. And it comes far more easily than it should. Diamant’s belts give up. Far faster than the finely crafted leather should, but the magic simply has them snap as if they were made of simple twine. Diamant’s expanse has more room to grow with the belts out of the way, all of it simply gone as his brain slowly fills in new gaps of memories.

Years as Brodia’s prince are picked apart, Diamant’s lavish yet rigorous lifestyle diluted with new memories of training and eating, a rather fitting set of memories for his growing body. The magic works quickly and easily on Diamant from his poor susceptibility to the craft. He quickly thinks nothing of his current size or still growing body. Or anything about his feelings on the other men on his team. Or about how the men feel about him in return, the magic changing all for him as it brings about their emotions into reality.

“Mauvier, try this,” Despite his own now much more frantic pace that he eats at, Diamant no longer even waits to finish his current bite of food before shoveling another forkful into his eager mouth; he begins to hand Mauvier food, eager to help his partner grow. Diamant washes down plates of food with an entire mug of ale, not a single drop of the liquid wasted despite his hurried chugging. And his contented sigh only lasts a few seconds before he continues to shovel more food down his mouth.

Muavier’s mind slowly adjusting as well, he merely nods at the offer of food. And he does eat it as told upon finishing his current bite of food as the ravenous hunger from his gut and brain demand of him. Mauvier tries a bite of everything Diamant hands him, a bite soon turning into the rest of the plate. His figure still growing, the lard blanketing his muscle focuses on his prodigious lower half that begins to slowly tear through his pants, soft, squishy bits of flab exposed past the black pants. His shirt fares a bit better as it only outlines his hefty upper rolls of lard that make up his stomach, but even his stomach puts heavyset men to shame as it begins to sit and rest on his lap. Shortly after, Mauvier’s entire clothes begin to dissipate off of his body. And replacing it all is a mawashi, the black material the same color as his clothes. Along with the material comes swirls of purple patterning, reminiscence of the purple flames on his now old attire.

Diamant no longer having anything resembling decency, his clothes are in complete tatters from his enormity. Despite being the same size as Mauvier, Diamant’s own much more taut clothing can only do so much when he weighs thrice as much —and even more beyond that— as the original figure for them Diamant’s figure takes up the entire width of his already tree trunk sized thighs. The mawashi that magically appears on him upon his clothes dissipating are barely even visible upon his seated form, Diamant’s a muted red befitting of his old clothes, zigzags of black and a vibrant red patterned over it as well. And still, he continues to shovel more food into his eager maw. And most excitedly, he happily eats whatever Mauvier hands to him, the exchanging of food slowly growing more infrequent as both men continue to gain weight and slowdown from their size.

Eventually, the two skip handing food to the other upon feeling each other's own enormity pressed up against one another. Mauvier’s thighs bulge against Diamant’s slightly slimmer ones, while Diamant's enormous love handles ooze and rest on Mauvier’s thighs. With the mobility that they can muster, guts pressing up against the table, the two of them feed the other with the last remaining remnants of food, nothing but pastries left upon the once seemingly endless table of food. All of their girth getting in the way makes the prospect a bit difficult despite their mobility. Mauvier and Diamant lean against the other, lard slapping against lard, as they try their best. And once the food quickly runs out, they grope each other while they can, the magic slowly ending, and they return to something resembling their senses.

Both of the men go to stand up, both of them huffing from lugging around their immense weight. And standing, the two men are practically equals in sheer size and heft. Where Diamant’s entire body resembles one large dough ball, his large face full of breasts squishing against his enormously bloated arms while resting on top of his gut spilling all the way down to his bloated knees attached to enormous thighs, Mauvier’s extremely bottom heavy self leaves the taller man rather pear shaped. His mawashi is nearly hidden underneath all of his lardaceous legs, the over swollen thighs pressed up against each other despite his wide stance. And Mauvier’s ass juts out behind him, his upper half somewhat small compared to the rest of his enormity.

Diamant huffs as he smiles at his partner’s figure. Though he also lifts up his gut with both his hands, what he can reach of it anyways, content with his enormity. “Let’s… get the others…” Diamant groans, taking his first lumbering step at his size, moving with a surprising ease despite all of his girth.

“Y-yeahhh…” Mauvier wheezes as he joins Diamant. Much more muscle than his partner, Mauvier walks off with ease. Though his bulging thighs and ass make it rather difficult to walk with all his flab rubbing against itself.

Mauvier and Diamant reach the entrance first. The two men simply huffing as they wait, they hear Ben and Boucheron’s groans before they see them. And upon seeing them, the two men eagerly watch them slowly waddle their barely movable selves to the entrance. Neither Mauvier nor Diamant pay attention to the portal back to Askr swirling in the background beside them, nor the now missing barrier. And neither do Ben and Boucheron once they reach Diamant and Mauvier. Instead, all four men are simply content to be reunited.

The two men walking beside each other, they eventually have to walk in a single line when they reach the hallway, both of them now far too wide to walk side by side. So Mauvier walks in front, his ass wobbling behind him as Diamant’s gut pushes up against it as they walk down and fill up most of the hallway.

And so is the magic, the last vestiges of the spell taking hold upon the men once in each other’s presence. All together once more, the already barely addled men lose the last bit of their memories, each vision of their past becoming filled with nothing but thoughts of the other three. The group quickly becomes a mess of energy, moans escaping all of them as they begin to grope one another.

Diamant and Mauvier much smaller than Ben and Boucheron, the two men take joy in their ease of fondling the other. They grope at whatever they can, plenty to grab and far too much to enjoy all alone, the room becomes enveloped by the sounds of lard slapping against itself as well as moans. None of them even bother saying much, the magic taking away most of their intelligence.

The door soon opens up behind them. The bright light outside fills up the room as it seemingly waits for their response.

“Outside,” Diamant grunts after some time, eager for more space to enjoy each other. And the other men agree.

Boucheron going first, Ben waddles behind him practically pushing his entire weight against Boucheron to help him move with his enormous gut getting in the way. His gut soon grazes against the grass outside. Slowly trudging outside, Boucheron is already a large mess of moans as he struggles to walk. His entire body begging for rest and some food, Ben’s own enormity pushing him along is the only thing keeping him going. And behind Ben, Diamant and Mauvier stand behind him —hip pressed against hip— and push him as well. The two men push with all their might, their buried under hundreds of pounds of lard clearly not for show as they manage to push the two titanic men outside, a feat only possible from Boucheron and Ben’s own musculature.

“Stuck…” Boucheron grunts as he comes crashing onto the ground, his stomach cushioning his fall as he struggles to move around. He slowly flails his arms and legs, his limbs struggling to move with his bed for a gut in the way. They fail to even touch the ground, all of Boucheron’s enormity pressed up against his gut. His face sinks into his breasts meanwhile, Boucheron getting a face full of them.

Ben comes stumbling behind him. He surprisingly doesn’t come crashing to the ground, but he has Diamant and Mauvier guiding him, both of the men holding both sides of him so as to keep him steady. “Mmmhh…” Ben groans as he tries to lean into their embrace. “T-touch…” Both men oblige, eager to fondle and grope Ben just as eager as they are to keeping him upright. They push more of their weight against Ben, their stomachs and thighs squished up against Ben’s gut that barely grazes the ground at its lowest point. All three of them close enough in height, Diamant and Mauvier are still able to grab a handful of Ben’s bulging tits, his breasts too tantalizing to pass up. Both men push more of their weight against him, squishing the much fatter Ben in between themselves.

Unable to see, Boucheron can plainly hear the audible moans coming from the trio. “ I-I need… touches…” He whines, desperately shaking his arms and legs but still unable to do anything about his predicament. Boucheron remains planted to the ground, anchored by his monumental gut.

Eventually the other men do come to his help at the very least. “Push…” Mauvier groans out, face wincing as he and Diamant stand on one side of Boucheron and slowly push him up. Slowly, they begin to push at him, all of Boucheron’s enormity wobbling as his body goes back and forth. Boucheron moans as his entire body shakes and jostles, his lard slapping against itself. Ben watches close by his eyes lidded as he gropes what he can of his own enormity at the scene in front of him. But eventually, they get enough momentum and with one final shove they get him up off of his tremendous gut and onto his back.

Where Boucheron ends up pinned once again by his far too big gut, all of it pressing down on him and pinning him arms and legs. But his new position does give the other men better access to him despite looking like an overly sized boulder, which he practically is at his size and position.

Ben slowly comes lumbering over to Boucheron, his heavy footfalls sounding out along with his tired wheezes. And he sits down next to Boucheron, arms resting against what bit of Boucheron’s gut he can with Ben's own size getting in the way. Ben thankfully sits close enough to Boucheron’s arm to where Boucheron can grab and paw at Ben’s own enormity, his plumped up fingers groping Ben’s rivulets of ass and copious thigh fat.

Diamant remains standing. He leans against Boucheron and Ben’s enormity, the two of them comfortable cushions he’s always loved. Both of his hands rest on them, his blubbery biceps squished against the two men as he relaxes.

Mauvier kneels on the ground instead. His ass jutting up behind him, his gut touches the floor from his position. He smiles at Boucheron as he begins to caress and pinch Boucheron’s bloated, blubbery face. Boucheron gets an eyeful of Mauvier’s girth, especially of his still sizable tits and belly.

Ben still seated, he gets an idea as he stares too long into Diamant’s stomach. His legs strain as he slowly stands up. Ben uses Boucheron as a base to stand up, arms sinking into Boucheron’s gut. Diamant also helps him by giving him a hand. He takes deeper and deeper breaths before he finally somehow manages to end back up on his two feet. And lumbering over to Diamant, Ben’s huffs turn into moans as he leans into him. “Want… s-umo match…”

Diamant doesn’t move. He simply ends up smothered in between both Ben and Boucheron’s enormity. Not that he complains; his own fervent pants come out rapidly as Ben pushes at him with all his might. He sinks into Boucheron’s stomach; Ben’s own girth covering him as well as the two of them envelop Diamant’s blubbery self.

“N-nooo fair…” Boucheron whines as Mauvier stands up as well. His body wobbling, he huffs as he goes to the other side of Boucheron. He pushes him once more.

Diamant still stuck between them, he bounces off of Boucheron and pushes back at Ben with all his might. Which surprisingly works as Ben moans and steps back. Memories filled with helping Boucheron, he grabs one hand. Mauvier grabs the other hand.

And both men groan as they tug at him.

Boucheron groans as well, struggling with all his might to get a proper footing. Which he eventually does as he slowly but surely stands up despite his gut in the way. Ben knowingly stands behind Boucheron, helping him by pushing him with his hands, but mostly with his own gut, Ben’s entire morbidly obese figure jiggling as he helps.

And they eventually manage to get Boucheron standing, all four men a panting, wheezing mess.

But they start their sumo match in earnest. Which resembles very little to what the sumos they saw earlier doing. Instead, all four men simply treat it as an excuse to enjoy one another’s bodies; all of them are far too big to properly have a match, even Diamant and Mauvier alone, the two of them larger than even Askr or Eikþyrnir, let alone the rest of the sumos.

Mauvier makes sure to constantly squat, his powerful legs enabling him to duck and avoid all of Boucheron and Ben’s poor attempts to grab at him. He lunges at the others whenever he can, his arms trying their best to grab as much of Ben and Boucheron as they can as he gets a face full of their guts. And to Diamant, he has much more of an even opponent, the two fondling each other, Diamant’s hands resting on Mauvier’s ass while Mauvier likewise touches his overflowing tits and gut. Diamant doesn’t bother with a proper stance like his new memories remind him off. He instead simply stands normally and allows himself to be grabbed. He adjusts his own bulk before grabbing the others, pulling up his mawashi and flaunting his large, sagging gut that makes walking a bit difficult with it blanketing his knees. Diamant does refuse to budge as Boucheron and Ben lean against him and fondle him, everything but his face smothering in bulging fat. Boucheron struggles to move with his gut in the way, but he tries his best. His stomach practically keeps him anchored to the ground. He does still manage to get a good handful of all the others. Especially Ben with how massive he is, Boucheron enjoying how massive his arms are, Ben struggling to lift them much more than the rest. Especially as Ben is large enough to take up almost all of an actual sumo ring on his very own, both his gut and ass jutting far out behind him. Though his size doesn’t stop him from moving, his limbs burning up with each movement. But the sheer determination of his three partners keeps him going. As it does to the other three, all four of them completely content.

The four stay together, enjoying their imitation of wrestling. Moving and shuffling around, they practically resemble a massive pile of lard as they try their best to hug and fondle one another at their larger sizes. None of them even notice the doors to the building closing shut. Or how the portal back to Askr slowly dissipates, their only way out now gone. Not that they’d ever want to leave; all four of them are just as eager to stay and enjoy each other like all the rest of the men.

________________________________________

All four of them also fail to notice the figures above them, three men atop of the building they came out of.

“Another successful job,” Askr pats his gut as he gazes down upon the quartet. “If I say so myself,”

“They’re rather big though,” Eikþyrnir comments. His eyes are still appreciative of their sizes despite his comment.

“They must have all really wanted this then. But no matter, it’s time for their proper greeting, don’t you think?” Askr gestures towards the person in front of him.

Ryoma standing at the edge of the building, he simply remains quiet as he gazes upon the four men. His own mind affected by the magic, he enjoys his size if his own groping is any indication. Ryoma only moves upon command.

“Go on then,” Eikþyrnir commands as Askr summons a portal right next to Ryoma, both of the gods offering their magic unto him.

And Ryoma obliges. He jumps straight off as instructed, his own red with gold trim mawashi flowing in the wind as he cannonballs directly into the portal that opens up right below him. His long mane of hair billows behind him as he begins to have an incandescent glow to his entire being. Ryoma disappears for an instant, his hefty figure teleporting as another portal opens up several feet beneath where he disappeared and a few feet in front; the newly summoned portal transports him right above the four men.

And all four of them cushion Ryoma’s fall as their own figures begin to glow where their sacred seals once were. Dust rises off of the ground from the impact. And the glow dissipates with it, Ryoma left the only one once the dust settles. Well, not quite. Ryoma stands atop the now flattened sumos, the new additions as flat as a paper. Their expressions one of minor shock, the blushes displayed on their faces betrays their enjoyment.

Another portal appears beside them as Ryoma slowly steps off of them. And Ryoma heads off upon being dismissed, his brain focused on finding Kaden and enjoying his beloved Kitsune’s own girth.

Askr and Eikþyrnir waddle through the enlarged portal. Eikþyrnir carries a large chest in his arms, the massive piece of seemingly antiquity dropped to the ground.

“Let’s begin,” Askr bends down and reaches for Boucheron, the bovine god clearly eager to hold the new addition with the most massive gut, no matter how flat and squished down his current situation.

Eikþyrnir reaches and grabs Mauvier. And despite Mauvier’s equally same situation as the rest of his partners, Eikþyrnir appraises the man for his dedication to training, Mauvier’s bulky lower half still ingrained in his mind. “Time for your initiation,”

Hanging them in the air for a short while, the two divine beings eventually slowly fold up the two men, their flattened bodies easily obeying their accustomed hands. Bit by bit they fold Boucheron and Mauvier like clothing. Boucheron takes much more time, his body flattened into a bigger pile than Mauvier who ends up gently placed into the chest, Eikþyrnir folding him so as to have his face at the top.

And Eikþyrnir reaches down once more for Diamant, nodding to himself upon seeing the strength Diamant still possessed despite his rather blubbery form. “Can’t have you four be separated now, can we?”

Askr finishes folding up Boucheron, placing him in the chest right with Mauvier before reaching for Ben, Askr’s technique of folding exactly the same as Boucheron’s face ends up on top. “Come on now, I know you're going to take me awhile,”

Eikþyrnir puts Diamant with the rest shortly after Askr begins with Ben. The two obese sumos for beasts work together to fold up Ben, so much of himself to go around when flattened from how massive every single part of him was. They go by quickly, but folding him still takes time, Ben taking up as much time as the rest despite being worked on by the two porcine sumos. But nonetheless, Ben ends up gingerly placed inside the chest as well.

“Welcome to your new paradise,” Askr and Eikþyrnir both say with a smile, the four flattened and folded men content as the chest closes on them, Diamant, Mauvier, Boucheron, and Ben as well in paradise indeed.

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