Randomized Voretober final day! Prompt 26 - Desire

The last of the four collab pieces done by me and Saro / S32 We worked together on the prompt idea, I wrote the story and he did the art. A day late coz I was tired and lazy, also prepping for Halloween. Had a good time tho. Hope you all like this story of a grandfather grappling with his urge to eat his kin.

Art by My friend Saro / S32 Story by Me!

Comments are welcome and greatly appreciated :creepycommentswelcomeicon:

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Harold had a problem. A fat, youthful, plump, tasty-looking problem. His grandson.

By all accounts, he was a stand-up boy! In fact, Harold was more than proud to know they were related. He was smart, funny, charismatic, had the body of a proper bear, and was great company. His only problem was that he looked like his mother. Harold had no problem with the woman, may she rest in peace, but more a problem with how he’d wired his own brain.

You see, he’d grown up with a real nasty glutton of a father. He was always eating, whether it was food or other furs, that man was cramming it down his gullet. If you couple that with his plentiful brothers and the hunger of a predator, you wind up with Harold as an only child by the time he turned eighteen. He’d only escaped by the skin of his teeth, fleeing the old family home before midnight. His father’s shouts as he ran out the door and down the road haunted him to the very day. He was sure that if the old codger hadn’t died of a heart attack the very next day, he’d have been stewing in that gut eventually.

He’d sworn to NEVER be like that man. Despite the fact he’d inherited his same hunger, he trained it for those that didn’t look like family. It had worked for him. Harold had fathered many an amazing son. He loved them all dearly, and when they started fathering kids of their own, he loved them all just as much. It had been going perfect! There was just one little flaw. Jeremy.

The day he first saw the young bear he’d know there would be trouble. The cub looked nothing like Harold, or his own father, or any of his uncles, brothers, or cousins! He’d pulled his son aside that day and asked if he really was his son?


“Don’t worry dad, I was skeptical too, but Mary agreed to a test, and lil Jeremy is 100% mine. He just looks like her side of the family. Genetics, am I right?”
He’d been brushed off with a casual laugh, but this was no laughing matter. He swore then and there to distance himself from the boy as much as grandfather could. He saw the boy grow up through cards and photos, but the lack of contact helped. The boy was 18 now and off to college. Harold couldn’t have been happier. With him all brown, he could start making more excuses. It was easier to dodge an adult than a kid after all.

The first blow to his carefully constructed house of cards came when he heard that Jeremy was going to the college in the very same town that he lived in. An issue, yes, but he would always move. He’d been thinking of taking his retirement to the coasts anyways. Some tourist town with lots of fresh meat coming in every day sounded great to him! The second came in the form of a phone call from his son. He’d managed to guilt him into letting Jeremy stay with him while he went to college. He tried to get out, but money woes and a harsh talking to from his son about how distant he’d been with the boy sealed his doom.

Harold really thought he could do it. It was just a couple of years he reasoned, two at the most. Then Jeremy would find his own apartment, and he’d be free to leg it out of the town as fast as he could. He truly thought he could survive it all, but having Jeremy there was torture!

It was tolerable at first. Eventually, Jeremy got more comfortable around Harold and began emulating him. He stopped wearing shirts in the house. He strutted around the house, inadvertently showing off like a big, furry, tantalizing piece of meat. After that his freshman fifteen had turned into a freshman fifty. Normally he’d have been so proud one of his own could pack it on like the best of 'em, but it only made Jeremy jiggle that much more enticingly. The worst of it came when Harold stopped wearing deodorant to try and mask the boy’s smell with his own. That worked for about a week until Jeremy asked him about it. Harold made up some nonsense about how he got tired of hiding his natural scent, and that a bear should be free to smell like a bear. He didn’t give two shits whether he smelled like lavender musk or his own BO. Somehow, his little speech inspired the younger bear to follow suit.

This all came to a head on an unseasonably hot week in May. The AC was busted, so he and Jeremy were sweating like a couple of pigs in the hot seat. The house was practically bursting with their musk. Jeremy had a few days off his classes, so he was home ALL day. No amount of gentle persuasion worked on him. He couldn’t blame him. He didn’t want to be outside in the weather either. Finally, when he felt his stomach growling for something big and filling, all of his usual delivery places were backed up with orders! Harold knew he couldn’t be bothered to try and figure out these new-fangled apps on his phone.

The old bear had made his way to the kitchen, hoping to potentially clear out the leftovers in the fridge. He just needed something to hold him over until the food got here. Maybe he could snag a delivery boy too if he was desperate enough.

He waddled his fat bear butt into the kitchen, clad in only his boxers.

“Oh hey, grandpa! The heat’s got you hungry too? Man do I get that. There’s still some good leftovers in the fridge, I think… Heh, hope I didn’t get 'em all!” Jeremy was sitting at the dining table. Empty food containers were scattered across the table’s surface. He was currently digging into some Chinese food carton, the sauce seared across his muzzle.

He ate the food? He thought, He ate the food. His stomach gurgled audibly as he stared at his grandson. He could feel the need to be full growing within him.

“What’s up grandpa? Got something on my face?” He licked his fat chops, mainly just smearing the sauce around.

This kid… he didn’t have any of the family markings, nor was he quite the right shades of fur as the rest of them. Harold began to drool.

“Grandpa?”

His face, so familiar yet so foreign at the same time…

“Oh, fuck it.”

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Harold stumbled back out of the kitchen, heading towards the living room. He felt so full! He paused to lean up against the extra wide door frame. All this new weight took some adjusting. Harold hadn't had a meal this big in a LONG time.

He shoved at the wiggling fat footpaws sticking out of his mouth. The last of the delicious meal he still needed to get down.

“Rrr, get in there!” He tried to say, but all that came out were muffled angry grunts. With one last firm shove, coupled with a heavy forceful swallow, he felt the bulge of the paws sliding down his throat to join the rest of his ursine meal. He gasped in a deep relieved breath. Harold was left panting from the effort it took to get down Jeremy.

He could vaguely hear muffled talking coming from his current occupant, but he ignored it. He struggled over to his recliner and carefully sat down in it. He didn’t need to break another one. The piece of furniture creaked and groaned in protest under the combined weight of the two bears.

“Oh yea~” He sighed in utter relief as he settled in, “Fuuuck me, boy! I think you’ve gotta be the biggest thing I’ve ever eaten! Feels so good being this full.” He grumbled happily as he rubbed over his squirming gut. He could still hear the faint shouting from within. Harold couldn’t make it out through all the padding he had, but he guessed it was the same as all the other food he’s ever eaten.

“Listen, kid, you’re food now. Food only leaves my body one way. Just let this big bear tank take care of ya.” He thumped his belly a couple of times before reaching for the remote. He clicked on a random channel. Harold couldn't really see the TV over his wobbling gut right now anyways. He just needed some background noise to drown out his meal.

Harold felt gas building up. He thumped on his chest a few times before letting out a burp that drowned out the TV.

“Oops, hehe, excuse me there!” he said to no one in particular. Harold’s belly continued to groan and gurgled around its big catch as the minutes turned to hours. All the while he kept gulping down air to keep his fat meal squirming, and he kept rubbing over and groping his belly. He was enamored with how absolutely big Jeremy had made him. “Heh, kid you are gonna make me one hell of a fat bear!”

He would occasionally wrap his arms around as much of his belly as he could and squeeze. He loved how that made his meal’s squirms and struggles ramp up. He always loved to tease his prey like this. All their useless fighting was like one big inner gut massage.

In the back of his mind, his sane voice was still trying to remind him he ate his own grandson. His base bear voice, meanwhile, was telling him to just enjoy being a fat bear stuffed to the brim with food. He’d figure something out when it came time to tell his son. Also, as far as he cared now, Jeremy wasn’t his grandson. That test was probably wrong. Not like any of it mattered now. Jeremy was food, and food churned into gut sludge. No other way about it.

Harold eventually slowly nodded off;. He could faintly hear the cires of “Grandpa! Grandpa!” His sleepy mind filled in the blanks and imagined his grandsons all cheering the big bear on.

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