Chilihogs 2/2

Hope you enjoy the finale to our tale of entrepreneurship and hotdogs!

--- Fighting Over Flavor ---

Through the hard work of Rouge and Amy’s growing team of experts that Rouge invested in, Chilihogs was finally opened to the public. It boasted a full menu to serve all but the most strict of palettes, seating for the largest of mobians, and several challenges for the influencers to boast to their followers about completing. The inside was trendy and hip, crafted as only a restaurant with a team of visionaries could. Humans and mobians alike came to the store, shelling out for the good food and atmosphere. Some, like a certain rabbit mother, almost had to be forced out at closing time. Things were going perfectly for Amy’s fledgling store, with the only true chore being counting the stacks of cash at the end of the day. She managed to find time between her taste testing of heaps of chilidogs. As any concerned owner would be, Amy wanted to make sure that her product was as good as could be. 

“Mmmgghph. . .well. . .BBBBOOOOORRUUUP. . .thissccch bassccht is. . .perfect!” Amy said as she pulled the ladle of chili away from her mouth. Her stomach gurgled happily, once again filled to the brim with meat sludge. Though most had made it into Amy’s mouth, some dribbled down her chins and spilled onto the large apron that was struggling to cover her belly. “Hmm. . .actually. . .mmmgghph. . .” Amy dunked and slurped from the ladle quickly, pulling more of the meaty goodness into her mouth. “Goscch. . .maybe it. . .mmgghph. . .needsch more. . .sscccccluuuurrup. . .more onion!” Amy thrust a flabby arm up in an attempt to grab the missing ingredient. What would have been an easy move for anyone was a supreme struggle for the hefty hedgehog. Success and good food had made Amy resemble the name of her restaurant more and more, making her into a “chilihog” to beat all the others.

“Hoooo there. . .whew. . .tampering. . .with. . .the magic. . .bbblooorruup. . .formula?” there was an electric whine as Rouge rolled her way into the kitchen. Thanks to her deal, she had been harvesting profits in money and food. Such vast quantities of the latter had gone into Rouge that her mobility was a thing of the past. Her padded asscheeks now rested within the confines of a triple-large mobility scooter, with her breasts fighting her hands for control of the steering. The scooter moved in halts and jerks, the motor unable to power over half a ton of bat fluff. If Rouge minded, it was not evident. Rather, she seemed to like the feeling of sinking into her vast and ever shifting blubber. 

“It’s missing. . .something!” Amy backed away from the shelf, no closer to reaching the onion but having sweated through her apron. The chilihog rested an immense ass on the counter, her stomach sagging past her knees. The only thing which had, thus far, kept her from a mobility scooter was the need of overseeing the restaurant. Now, with more money coming in than ever, that was less of a concern. Soon the day would come when Amy retired to immobility and fatness, letting her workers handle the day-to-day operations. Investigations like the current one, only helped hasten her immobility. 

“You. . .tell. . .me!” Amy wheezed as she lumbered across the kitchen, holding a full ladle for Rouge. Amy’s gut bumped squeezed into Rouge’s equally exposed waterfall of flab. Cream and pink colored fat meshed together as Amy offered the taste. Rouge gulped the chili down quicker than the eye could follow. 

“Hmmmm. . .uuuuhhm. . .too hard to tell. . .” The scooter-bound bat struggled to shrug her immense shoulders. “Not a. . .BBBBLOOOOORRUP. . .big enough. . .uuuggh. . .sample.” Rouge spoke slowly, plump lips belching and pushing words out. Her body shook in slow and languid movements with each word or breath of air. Amy could feel the words almost as much as she could hear them. 

“Oh. . .you!” She squeezed Rouge’s softball sized cheek. “Always. . .hunting. . .for. . .uuggh. . .treasure!” She pulled back and waddled her way towards the simmering pot. It was a silo of calories, big enough to feed a platoon of mobians. Amy hooked a finger through a funnel and grabbed the chili tanker. Rouge would get her taste, with Amy taking her own portions to help freshen the “debate”. As greedy as she was, Amy enjoyed seeing other people enjoy her cooking as much as she enjoyed eating it herself. 

“Mmmgghph!” Rouge burbled as the chili pot started to be emptied into her mouth. Wave after wave of wonderful, fattening chili was stuffed into her mouth. “Ooomgghph. . .thassccch. . .scchooooo. . .” Rouge deliberately waited to give her sentencing, hoping to be pumped ever fuller with chili. Her belly and throat undulated as one as she gulped the food down. She leaned back, hands appearing from under her wall of cleavage. The immobile bat sunk further into her own mass, letting her many chins and neckfolds coddle her heavy face. The chili continued to be dumped into her, stomach flooding out over the control console of her scooter. Amy leaned into the feeding, practically laying on the mass of belly blubber. Their folds hugged each other, cozy and warm. After the large bowl was halfway emptied, Rouge gave her pronouncement. “. . .isscch good. . .BBBBBOOOOORRRUUP. . .no more. . .additionsccsch!” 

“Your. . .uuuggh. . .tongue is broken!” Amy pulled back, needing another taste herself. She lifted the kettle up to her mouth. Rouge had drank enough such that Amy could lift it fully, though with a bit of trouble. Amy’s flabby arms, biceps now comparable to small bowling balls, shook as she started to chug the chili. Already filled from some previous experiments, the pink hedgehog’s belly was soon pushed to extreme tautness. Her apron was splattered with chili and grease, further stained. The less than perfectly white cloth was rolled up and tucked under her breasts as she continued to slurp down the food. The chili was seemingly endless within the pot. Amy’s only clue that she was reaching the end of the food was that the metal pot was growing lighter. She continued to slurp and drink the food down, searching more for the bottom of the pot than for the answer to her questions. 

“BBBLLLEERRRUUUP. . .I think. . .oooorrruup. . .it needscch. . .more.” Amy wheezed, throwing the emptied pot away. It banged as it was rolled across the floor.

“Well. . .you. . .will. . .BBBBOOOOORRUUP. . .haf to. . .uuurruup. . .add it.” Rouge wheezed as she slumped over her breasts, now lulled to sleep by the impromptu feeding. She sunk into her flabby arms, which in turn sank into her voluminous breasts. Boats might have been able to sail on the twin cleavage oceans that the scooter was forced to lug around. Little bubbles of drool and residual chili slipped from Rouge’s mouth as she began to slumber. “Asscchuming. . .WHOOORRRUUUP. . .you can. . .scchtand.” She huffed before finally falling asleep. 

“Schtand?” Amy asked before realizing she had slumped to the floor. All around her spread out pink and blubbery fat. At some point in her chili chug, she had traded standing for sitting. “What the. . .” Amy asked as she tried to move, finding her body slow to respond. It was dreamy, the realization that her feeding had been so intensely pleasurable that her body had moved without her command. Her conscious mind had been ignorant of what the rest of her was doing. The feeding had required comfort, so Amy’s legs had sought it out. “Rouge. . .when did I. . .” She started to ask, but stopped as she heard the snores from the bigger woman. Rouge rumbled and snored in an undignified manner, creamy fat hanging down towards the floor. “Aaah. . .whatever. . .” Amy gave up the question in her own hazy food coma. She could ask about it after a small nap. 

--- Big Ass Pool Party ---

Time passed and Chilihogs continued to build up steam. Menu items were added, customers flooded in, and both owners raked in profits. The little restaurant was a smash success through mobian society, taking its place within the pantheon of fast food locations. Besides the first location, others began to spring up rapidly. Branches and franchise openings dotted cities and towns. Yet, at the center of it all rested the original. Chilidogs were pumped out daily in increasingly vast numbers to a public clamoring to scarf them down. Amy and Rouge watched the restaurant by way of gobbling down as many treats as possible. Despite having enough money to eat pretty much anything, more of their expansive diets became Chilihog related. 

They were postergirls as much as they were managers, a unique synthesis of owner and advertiser. They threw parties and social gatherings to wine and dine the most influential mobians, as well as reward their biggest fans. No party was grander than the Summer Splash ‘n Bash, a pool party and eating competition hosted at Amy’s mansion. Those who had supported Chilihogs the most, as well as every press outfit available, were invited to the soiree. The guests were often as eye-catching as the meals being served. . .

GOOOOSSSH! The moving landmass known as Blaze wobbled her way towards the mansion. It was less walking and more letting the tidal forces within her waterlogged body pull themselves forward. She had to summon the power to lift a leg and the wobbly water within her would take care of the rest. Her leg slammed down, breaking the concrete underneath her. Another “step” took her closer to the mansion. A constant series of nuka-dogs and floods of water to quell the heat within her had forever altered Blaze. She was bigger than many houses, rising high in the air on a stretched and water-inflated body. Though nominally a cat, she functioned more like a stomach residing within a vast water balloon. BOOOOOSSCCH! Blaze’s hefty steps carried her around the side of the house. She passed like an elephant, between the fences which separated Amy’s lawn from her equally wealthy neighbors. It mattered little how careful she was, her watery bulk bent the wrought iron anyway. Though the fence was 10ft tall, it rose only to her middle. She peered over into the garden and pool area, seeing a host of people around a pink blob.

“BBBBOOOORRRAAAP!” Amy’s belch shook the ground and the surrounding houses. Waves sloshed over the pool next to her fluffy mass, stirred up by the seismic activity and chili-flavored winds of the burp. If Amy had any indication of how monumental her belch was, she gave no indication. Her fat was always jiggling, with or without her gaseous expulsions. The most she felt was one of her massive buttcheeks slipping into the pool. The hedgehog was a mountain of fat, made artifically tall by the padding underneath her. Save for Blaze, who was peering over the fence in anticipation, Amy was the single largest entity within the party. Her arms had long since transformed into a series of brightly colored innertubes, with her hands lost in the center of them. Her backrolls might have been used as a stepping ladder to reach the pillowy neck rolls where her bulbous cheeks languished. Amy’s body spoke of the richness of indulgence and fun of resounding success. She tried to run the pool party from her bulky throne, but that was difficult given her inability to see anyone. . .save the purple cat.

“Ooooh. . .BBBBOOOORRUP. . . Blaze!” Amy greeted her guest. “Wonderful. . .hoooorrrruuup. . .for you to. . .uuurrruup. . .make it!” Amy’s fat face and especially plump lips flapped as she spoke. Piles of chili dotted her face and many chins, showing how much she had already eaten. Whole platoons of soldiers might have been fed on the food lost within her blubber. As a force of habit, Amy tried to wave one of her buried arms. It shook within the caves of arm blubber that the wealth of a restaurant empire had created. Blaze understood the greeting and waved one of her own inflated arms. Amy took the motion as a sign that the real festivities should start. “BBBBBLLLOOOOOORRRUUP! I think. . .hoorrup. . .our firssccht. . .contessccht should. . .start!” Amy’s voice grew more indulgent and lispy as she tired from speaking. 

“Contest?” Blaze backed away from the wall, her water-expanded rear cracking and crushing the neighbors one behind her. “I wasn’t prepared. . .I mean. . .” Resistance proved futile as even Blaze’s stomach turned against her. A wet rumbled issued out of both women, matching a thumping that could be heard in the sky. Special precautions had to be taken in order to deliver the immense mobians’ food. Blaze watched as two immense drones, built by Rouge’s R&D department, floated down towards the pair. “Oh lord. . .” Blaze commented as she watched the mechanized feeding machines doing their work. 

Bigger than school busses, the drones hovered several feet above either woman. Their sophisticated targeting systems were locked on the large mouths of either mobian. Bright yellow, inflatable slides unfurled from the innards of the drones. They rolled down through the air, each landing gracefully before their targets. Before either woman could turn back, not that they would, food began to roll down the inflatable ramps. It was a rain of chilidogs for either woman. Each woman was provided a seemingly endless supply of their favorite menu item. Amy was pumped full of extra large, deep fried chilidogs whilst Blaze was given the painfully addicting heat of the nuka-dogs. They suck and slurped the food down, their bodies undulating as they were filled to the brim. As the pair ate, a digital readout of the pounds of food eaten was displayed. 

“Mmmmgghph. . . come. . .bbboooorro-on. . .Blasscche. . .BBBOOOORRUUP!” Amy couldn’t help but tease her competitor. Another wave of food silenced her. Even though she was little more than a pink blob, even she had to concentrate to keep up with the amount of food being shoveled into her. The pair were turning into food balloons, their stomachs stretching and expanding as they took on hundreds of pounds of chilidogs. Blaze found her waterlogged, balloon body wedged even tighter between the two walls. The towering mountain of fat, water, and now undigested chilidogs grew ever bigger; her butt and belly testing the walls around her. Meanwhile, Amy’s fat began to leak ever more into the pool. As her stomach widened, growing tauter than it had in many months, her fat needed more room. Other guests cheered at the same time they moved to safe distances. 

“Oooooohmmmph!” Blaze had begun to struggle with her meal. The radioactive fire of the nuka-dog burned in her voluminous stomach. She was building a bonfire of heat within her belly, such that the water she naturally stored now was turning to steam. GALOOOOOSCH! Blaze took a step forward, fumbling over the concrete and mortar wall. She burst through it like a kaiju, oceanic stomach bulging through the cracks. The drone recalculated as she moved, making sure that the yellow ramp could stuff her further. Blaze fumbled her two stories worth of blubber and liquid towards the pool, taking on more and more dogs. Amy had bloated her way into the shallow end, fat hips and bulging stomach twisting and crushing the steps. Yet, there was plenty of room in the deep end. It was an olympic sized pool, the largest amount of water that Blaze had ever attempted to swallow. Yet, it was that or face self-immolation from the dogs. 

Her face plunged into the drink and she began gulping down water. Chilidogs rained down on her still, the drone unable to accept that she had lost the contest. People cheered, some going to scoop up the wayward nuka-dogs. Blaze’s turgid middle grew as she blimped out further. Each swallow turned her more and more into a circus tent sized water balloon. It mattered little that the water was chlorinated. Blaze could take on any liquid to fill her changed biology. Besides, anything was useful in quelling the heat and burning in her stomach. “Blrrbbbrlrblblb. . .” The cat bubbled and simmered as she drained the pool.

“UUUURRRUUU-OOOOOOP! Guesscch. . .bbooorrrup. . .I. . .win!” Amy powered through the last of her food. Her face wore a mask of chili residue so complete that she might have been disguised. Amy basked in her win, feeling the pool being drained and Blaze becoming an even bigger balloon than she had been before. The party goers cheered, celebrating the first of many events. The sounds of the party were muffled by fat rolls which had covered her ears. Amy tracked things more though the vibrations through her fat. She enjoyed the party by feeling people bump into her blubber on their way for refreshments. Water draining from the olympic pool told her that Blaze was still trying to cool her belly off. Amy smiled, knowing everything was progressing as intended. She merely had to wait until the proper signal was given. When she felt the pool run dry, Blaze completing her change into a fully house sized balloon, she knew it was time to go on to the next festivity. The second owner of Chilihogs needed to make her own entrance to the party. 

“Everyone!” Amy called the party to attention again. “Isscch. . .been a. . .bbbbooooorruup. . .amascching. . .year. . .” Amy huffed and wheezed, more used to eating than speaking these days. However, she did her best to address the crowd. Her butt sloshed and clapped along with what she said, adding bassy undertone. Likewise, breasts that were bigger than couches pooled on the ground. “I love. . .BBBBOOOORRUP. . .your continued. . .scchhhupport.” Amy licked her lips. It was so hard to speak, but she needed to introduct her final guest. “However. . .there. . .issccch. . .schomeone who. . .BBRAAAAAAP. . .lovescch it. . .even more!” Amy spat the final words out. Just as she did so, darkness covered the party. 

 Guests looked up as a hum filled the party. They saw a fluffy shape covering the sun, stealing light as an eclipse might. The blocking of the light was complete and perfect, just as the descent into the party was. The mechanical whine and hum grew ever louder, drowning out all noise. The drones which had fed Blaze and Amy were outdone by these new contraptions, just as the woman they held up out did either of the ladies’ size. Rouge made her slow entrance into the party, gliding in a way her fat no longer allowed for. Regal, abundant blubber dripping with sweat and chili was flown towards the pool. The roar of the crowd competed with the hum of the drones. Cameras flashed as the most immense blob the world had ever seen was brought to rest within the now drained pool. 

Rouge outshone Amy and Blaze, matching their raw tonnage and exceeding it handily. She was mansion of fat. Were she to get any bigger she would start to rival Eggman’s various airships in size. There was no discernable arms or legs on the woman, having long since traded them for more ample fat. Her wings, now rendered tiny and inert, were tucked away under back folds that could have blanketed sailing ships. The chords which held here were tucked into dimpled blubber, only becoming visible as they reached up to the drones. Music played from the drones as Rouge was lowered down into the pool, making her blubber jiggle relentlessly. She filled and then overfilled the olympic pool, taking any and all freespace. The concrete around the pool shattered as her fat pushed outward. Her creamy fat flowed to meet the guests, since its owner was too stuck within her own rolls. People hugged and slapped Rouge, testing if she was even real in the first place. Finally, the chords were disengaged and the large drones flew off. Only one remained, projecting a vision of the immense bat’s face. 

“Oooohmmph. . .HOOOORRRRRLLUUUUUURRRUUUP!” Rouge’s belch was so large that it forced Amy and Blaze back. Rouge spoke, but it came more from her cavernous rolls than her mouth. Her breasts each were the size of Amy, whilst her buttcheeks were bigger than Blaze. “Isscch. . .oommgghph. . .scchoooo. . .nicssche. . .to. . .BBBBBBBOOOORRUP. . .schee. . .you.” Rouge wheezed, unable to see anything other than her own cream colored fat. She had prepared a speech for the assembled guests, but now lacked the ability to deliver it. Her stomach had started to rumbled as she smelled the food all around her. She could eat several party’s worth of food and come back for more. She was an endless pit of hunger, her rolls a testament to the wealth she had raked in through the restaurant. “HUUUUH-BBBBLLLOOOORRUP. . .” She belched again, fumbling for words to speak to the crowd. Rouge could feel their energy, their desire. It wasn’t to hear her or Amy speak. It was for something else entirely. They wanted a show. “Amy. . .lessccch. . .eeeaaaaat!” Rouge said, her stomach gurgling. The roar of the party was lost in the oncoming hum of feeder drones. It was to be a celebration no one forgot.