Demon Hunters Part 11

As Tom glutted himself at one table, Bianca sat one table over. This was because no table could properly hold all the food they both consumed, so they had to be separated. At least that’s what Bianca told herself as she sat seated sideways in her chair.

Truth was, Bianca was now too wide to sit on her chair properly (at least for the majority of the time, she usually sat on it normally when getting up or going down). She had simply gotten far to wide, which any fur could tell if they were paying attention. Most weren’t, so this understanding went out the window as Bianca wobbled around.

Her attention was no longer focused on proving Zendra was a demon; that went out the window when the fox misjudged just how big her rear was and sat on her tablet, crushing it beyond repair. It had barely registered with her as her ass had accumulated so much fluffy fat that she didn’t even feel a thing. She was annoyed when she did realize what had happened, taking her anger out on a few ice cream sundaes and pies at the diner an hour later.

Since that moment, Bianca had been more agitated than usual, which, judging by her new temperament since arriving in town, was quite a lot. Anything and everything seemed to bother her these days, even something as simple as Tom going through the apartment door first; she had to go first in her mind since she was in charge and more important. A fact she constantly told Tom about.

Her personality had shifted dramatically in the 6 plus months since getting into town; her shy, but still friendly personality had evaporated, replaced by an angry, selfish, and somewhat cruel one. She berated many people throughout the day, typically Tom for taking so long to walk and waiters and waitress’ if they took to long to bring her her food. She would bark at them for the delays, telling them to bring out another serving even before she had started on her current one, just because she knew they’d take forever (her words to them). They’d just groan and take the order down and return to the back, not wanting to be anywhere near the demanding fox.

Bianca would have sensed something was off if she had been thinking properly but she definitely was under the influence of something. Her personality had changed, her appetite was uncontrollable, and her demonic senses were dampened drastically. Sure, she needed the tablet to really sense demonic energy most of the time, but, even without it, her eyes should have picked up on an evil aura or two. Now, even if a demon walked by her, she’d be unable to see it. Her mind was just too clouded by thoughts of food and anger.

This anger made it tough for people to be around her outside of Tom, and even he didn’t want much to do with her at the moment. She had freaked out on him a couple of weeks ago, when the poor horse was trying his best to waddle from their apartment to the diner, but his all encompassing gut was crashing against his thighs with each shuffle of his bloated feet, taking the wind out of him quickly and making him a sweaty mess.

At first, Bianca groaned loudly and stopped (also because she needed to catch her breathe a little), but when Tom was taking longer and longer breaks, she had enough. She waddle around the desperately out of shape and overweight horse and yelled at him.

“Christ Tom. If you’re going to take this long to walk to the diner, you’re either waking up earlier or I’m just going without you from now on. Jesus!”

Tom said nothing as he watched her elephantine rear bob and quiver in front of him before she was far enough ahead and out of ear shot range.

“Go-good. Go, huff, on ahead. I don’t, gasp, want to hear you yelling anyway.”

From that moment three weeks ago until now, Bianca was going to the diner without him. She’d get there first, drop her enormous and cellulite ridden on a chair, and begin feasting for the day. She seldom got off her rear; one it was too tiresome to get up, and two, it also meant she couldn’t eat as much. So, she would only get up if it was absolutely necessary.

As a result, her frame continued to widen and expand, going beyond the 300 pound marker, then 400, and now resting somewhere in the low 500s. She was still comparatively small to furs in town, but not for a fur of her species. The fox was having some trouble with door frames due to her vast hips, and anything with arm rests outside of sofas was a big no-no.

But, like most furs, she was not concerned with her weight with so much good food around. Even now, as she sat with her ass hanging over the sides of her chair, Bianca was ignoring the discomfort. She just angrily glared at a waitress, hot dog in hand wondering.

“Is this bitch going to remember to bring my fucking Philly Cheesesteaks or what?”