Audience with The King

"C'mon, there's plenty of guestrooms in the castle that just sit empty all day. Nobody will have to know~." Wolfgang says to Aspen, lewdly shaking his still exposed belly at him.

"Except for those two." Aspen replied, referring to the two guards still standing in front of the doors to Gabriel's office still as statues.

"Aw, what do they care? Ain't nothing wrong with two dukes engaging in 'diplomatic exchange' is there?" He grins and bucks his hips crudely "It'll really help get that stick out yer ass~." He laughs.

"Tch, you really have no concept of romance do you?" Aspen replies coldly, turning away from the lecherous pig in wolf's clothing.

"Aw, c'mon, don't be like that. I know you need it more than I do." He said as he grabbed a soft handful of the deer's ample ass, causing him to stand on end. "Just imagine me pushing you down on the bed and grabbin' those antlers as I p-" He stopped on a dime the moment he heard the door open as Gabriel escorted you out of his office. You weren't sure why, but for some reason Aspen's face was beet red and had a suspicious bulge in his pants.

"A-ah! You're back!" Aspen blurted out, unusually flustered "I trust everything went well with Sir Gabriel, yes?"

"Y..yes," his over-enthusiasm perturbed you a bit, "everything went just fine. He said I was good to meet with the King finally."

"Ah, good! Sir Gabriel looks intense at first but he really is quite a nice man." He rambles. You notice Wolfgang smirking at his flustered demeanor. "Well, we really shouldn't keep his Majesty waiting any longer, let's get going now." Quickly he rushes you both back towards the stairs to return to the ground level of the castle. He pushes you both up the stairs and through the halls surprisingly fast for how heavy he is and before you know what's going on you're standing before the colossal doors to the throne room.

Your heart pounds with anticipation, this is what you've been waiting for since Wolfgang first picked you up from your modest cottage on the outskirts of town. Meeting with King Porter II is a great honor known only to a select few of your social status, you have no doubt this moment will be etched into your memory for the rest of your life. Aspen notifies the hefty guards of your identity and business here and they nod and begin to open the monolithic entrance before you. Slowly the massive doors part and you're left in awe by what you see before you.

The throne room was as luxuriant as you imagined, a cavernous room lined lined with opulent marble pillars and royal banners but none of that mattered to you as your attention fixated on the immense figure seated at the end of the room. Words could not do justice for the sheer enormity of King Porter. He resembled an undulating mountain of cascading rolls and folds of soft buttery fat, barely recognizable as any known species. The only way you could tell he was white tiger was the extremely stretched out black stripes which marred his snow white fur and accentuated every bulging, quivering curve. His gargantuan form was beyond any form of traditional clothing, not that he needed any to remain decent as his flab did quite a good job at covering his sensitive areas, so he was draped in a few luxuriant silken sashes of the royal colors pinned together with golden jewel encrusted buttons. They weren't clothes so much as decorations that served to demonstrate and celebrate the great King's overflowing divine obesity to all who witnessed it. More than two dozen servants were dotted around atop the billowing rolls and curves of his Majesty's ocean of adipose. Half of them seemed to be employed to worship and massage his blubber full-time while the other seemed to be devoted to shuttling food up the mountain of a tiger from the constant flow of kitchen hands bringing massive platters of food out from the kitchen to his obscured maw behind his barrel-sized cheeks.

The whole sight took your breath away, leaving you frozen in place before an encouraging hand pushed you forward. You stumble towards the goliath King, every clumsy step you take he makes him grow bigger and more massive until you can't even fit all of him in your field of view. You have to crane your head up as far as it can go just to glimpse the titanic cheeks hiding his face. You don't know how to address him or if he even knows you're here but a few servants take notice of your presence and send a message up the chain of bodies to his head.

"WHO GOES THERE?" A deep powerful voice booms forward from between the billowing cheeks that dominates the entire cavernous chamber.

You take a knee and bow before your majestic king at the foot of his mountainous gut. "I am ______ ______, a humble farmer from the outskirts of Tallowford. I was-"

"COME CLOSER SO WE CAN SEE YOU." He commands you from the summit of his obesity.

You think for a moment, you have **** but to scale the mammoth tiger. You gab a hold of a roll, pull yourself up and begin to climb. It's awkward trying to climb the King's belly. His soft fat shifts endlessly and constantly feels like it's going to give away beneath your feet but it feels so good to grab and press your body against like the worlds largest pillow. You just barely manage to get past his colossal moobs but you finally make it to the summit of his Majesty where a pair of servants leisurely recline on each side of his massive cheeks. Once they see you, the spring to action, gabbing the giant mounds of adipose and pulling them back, revealing the sunken face of his majesty, King Geraint Porter II, sitting atop no more than three dozen chins, his pure white fur stained a reddish brown from all the food constantly being packed into his insatiable maw, and an opulent crown seated upon what little part of his head that wasn't completely swallowed in lard.

"State your business." He says at a much more reasonable volume.

You try to take a knee again for a proper introduction but the jiggling of his fat knocks you off your balance and you fall over, eliciting a booming laugh from the King. You pick yourself up, face red with embarrassment and decide to introduce yourself more casually, "I am ______ ______, A humble farmer. I received an invitation to appear before you, your Majesty."

King Porter takes a moment to remember, "Ah yes. You were the one that delivered us those exquisite pumpkins!" he says gleefully as a massive platter of roasted griffin legs, smothered in a delicious looking sauce, came up the chain of servants and was set before the King's sunken face. "Please, help yourself to anything you like!" He says as one of his servants picks up a large meaty leg and brings it to his mouth where he makes quick work of it. "We must say, the pastries your pumpkins made were absolutely divine! Never in our 200 years as king have we tasted such wonderful gourds." He slurps and slobbers as he's fed another leg. "We would like to reward you for such excellence by offering you one royal favor. Anything you desire we shall grant you to the best of our ability!" He says joyously.

"Anything?" You repeat in awe.

"Anything." He replies with absolute seriousness.