Have something a little different today. Here's a story introducing my new OC, Metres! He's a construction worker with a big gut and a big heart. I hope you enjoy.

You can find his ref sheet here! - https://twitter.com/bpacc437/status/1743846002761588847

Petey belongs to EaArachnee - https://aryion.com/g4/view/736773

---

Velma had never seen such a large bee before. She’d come out of the kitchen of her little diner at the ringing of the bell to find him sitting there at the counter, taking up enough space for three seats. Her whiskers wriggled softly in the cool wind being blown by the fan above her, and she wondered how such a small stool was taking all of his weight without breaking. It creaked under the newcomer's body, and she made a mental note to charge him if it happened to break. With her mouse’s delicacy, she came to the counter, brought up her notepad, and asked him for his order.

“I’ll just have a dark coffee, please! Dark as you could make it!” the man said cheerfully. “I’m just on my break and need a little energy to get through the day, you know?”

There was something sweet, or even innocent in his voice. Velma looked up into his eyes, and was suddenly much more acutely aware of just how much bigger he was than her. He was the kind of man that made others consider their scale and size compared to him, a calculation that usually spat out on the calculator of mental math, “This man could do anything he wanted to you, and there's nothing you could do to stop it.” If it wasn’t for his apparent sweetness, there would be something ominous about it all.

Velma suppressed a shiver, and nodded. “Got it. And what’s the name for the order?”

It had been a silly question - he was the only one in the classically-styled diner. It was the kind of thing you saw in the old movies, all red cushions and blue walls and low ceiling lamps. He seemed almost oblivious to where he was, as if he could operate and do what he pleased regardless of the circumstances, which was probably true. The man cocked his head and said, “My name’s Metres! Good to meet you!”

He held out a hand, and Velma considered for a second before shaking it. She moved back to the coffee maker, and brewed up the darkest roast she could. His shadow loomed over her, as it probably did with anyone who met him. She’d noticed a construction vest hanging off the back of his chair, pressed firm against it by his immense weight. Metres had to be as heavy as he was tall - that is, heavy enough that most scales, when attempting to register his weight, would show up with “???” and nothing else. Her mind found itself pondering him without fully knowing why, and she calmed her delicate nerves.

“Alright, here’s your coffee sir,” she said as it placed the cup down on a saucer in front of Metres. Velma steadied her breath, finding herself equally frightened of and compelled by him. She watched his hands carefully.

In a flash, the cup disappeared. By the time her eyes caught up with it, Metres was already downing the entire scaldingly hot thing. Her mouth fell open, and a hand reached to grab the phone to call 9-1-1, but all Metres did was sigh satisfactorily as he finished the cup. He put it back on the table, along with a $100 dollar tip, and headed for the door. “Thanks so much for the coffee, it was really good! I gotta get back to work, but I might stop by later!”

Then he was gone, leaving Velma with her jaw almost literally on the floor as she picked up the $100. Her white fur was all standing on edge, and the pink end of her nose jittered nervously. She collected herself, and said the only thing one really could say upon meeting Metres.

“What in the goddamn?”

—

Metres flung his construction jacket back on as he made his way down the block to his jobsite. They were supposed to set up this single-family two-story house, but little progress had been made. His manager, Carver, had been trying to get everyone else to work harder, because “You don’t want to see what’ll happen to you if he gets fed up,” but Metres hadn’t known who the he being referred to was.

He rounded the corner, and heard the sounds of argument coming from the construction site. Everything had been blocked off and cleared out, to make room for the new building, but Metres noted that not much had been changed while he’d been out on break. He scanned the site as he approached, noting multiple workers just standing around, doing nothing at all. Metres cocked his head curiously, entered the site proper, and was met immediately with the familiar sound of Carver yelling at someone.

Carver was a large-bodied, intimidating man. Being a shark-person made someone that, just on principle. He a black-and-white striped suit and pants, and a too-large bowler hat. His tail, big enough to knock a man over, hung out a hole in the back of his pants. His pointed snout and sharp fangs made him look eager to bite anyone who came near, though Metres had never seen him do that.

“You’re a bloody idiot, Peyton, that’s what you are!” Carver shouted, pointing a finger accusingly at a large green-scaled lizard man, who had his arms crossed defiantly.

Peyton heaved his shoulders in a shrug. “What? Because I’m not scared of some busybody? Come on, man. Me and my boys will work at our own pace. We’re waiting for some more stuff to be delivered before continuing with-”

“Ugh! Don’t you get it? You and your boys won’t live beyond the hour if you don’t get working NOW!”

“Look man,” Peyton said, “there’s nobody I’m afraid of. I saw your friend, Meters or whatever his name was, and he’s a big softie. Don’t try and intimidate me, unless you want me to walk off on my first day.”

A heavy shadow loomed over him, and Peyton turned around with a sudden feeling that he’d crossed some ironic narrative tripwire. Metres looked down at him curiously, and Peyton realized just how little he was compared to him.

“Is this guy giving us trouble, boss?” Metres said, a little darkness lurking under his sweet tone now.

Carver shook his head. “No, no, of course not. It’s their first day, so cut ‘em some slack, eh?”

Peyton shook himself back into sense. “Hold on! What is this all about? You trying to intimidate me again? You know there’s a dozen of me and my boys, and only two of you, right?”

“I only need one of him,” Carver said, nodding at Metres. “Now, I’d really suggest you cool down, before you do something you’ll regret.”

Peyton, much like anybody being told to calm down, did not, in fact, calm down. He whirled on Metres, aiming to teach the doughboy a lesson, and decked a firm punch straight in his gut.

The punch landed without impact, vanishing into Metres’ fat and hurting its target exactly none.

“Oh Gods,” Carver said, rubbing his temples. “You’ve done it now. You’ve really gone and done it, good Lord.”

A further shadow fell over Metres’ face as he stood unmoved. Peyton tried to move his hand back, but Metres grasped it and held it in an iron vice. His voice was an iron block. “I didn’t want to say this, but you’ve been really mean today.”

“What…?” Peyton said, trying to jerk his hand away without success. He looked pleadingly back to his friends, who had to muster their courage before moving to surround the two of them.

“I know I’m silly, but I’m not stupid,” Metres said, tightening his grip. “I know a bunch of slackers when I see them! I was gonna let you and your friends go, but bullying my friends and trying to hurt me? That’s where I cross the line.”

The real frightening thing, Peyton thought as Metres opened his mouth into a vengeful, grinning maw, was how sincere he was. There was no irony or self-awareness in that voice, or in what he said. He was strong enough to do whatever he wanted, and it was only his kindness and sincerity that kept him from hurting others. Peyton had lost the second he’d gotten on his bad side, and given him a justification.

His friends moved in to save him, but it was too late. Metres’ shoved Peyton into his mouth with one strong, swift movement. Metres was large enough to fit the lizard into his maw with no issue, and he swallowed heavily, sending Peyton terminally down to his gut. In just a few moments, his entire body had been stuffed down into Metres’ belly, and it had hardly seemed to fill him up at all. He turned with hungry eyes towards the rest of the surrounding men. “I knew it was a good idea to skip lunch,” he said, lunging at the nearest one.

Carver sat back against a brick wall, and cracked open a beer, taking a long drink while he watched the chaos unfold. “They can’t say they weren’t warned,” he said with a groan.

Screams and chaos engulfed the field in front of him as Metres set off to work. He grabbed a couple of portly construction men, squeezed them close to his fat chest and gut with his arms, and then swallowed both with just one fat gulp of his gullet. Another man tried to flee, but was hounded down by Metres in a matter of moments, and tackled to the ground, Metres’ weight crushing his bones as he clawed at the ground in a desperate bid to escape. He ended up like the rest, easily swallowed and sent to digest.

The number of men in the yard fell drastically as the seconds rolled on. Within just a couple minutes, Metres has almost completely cleaned up. He was strong enough to grab even the burliest of the men by the scruff of their necks, flinging them into his mouth like they were his missed lunch. It seemed impossible to resist, though some of the men tried, punching and kicking at his fat in the moments before vanishing down his throat.

His stomach was filled with a cacophony of screams and gurgling sounds and struggles as the number of men inside reached a dozen. Metres hardly seemed winded after eating the last man, and due to his height, was able to stand upright and grope his belly as the men inside melted. He let out a fat belch, which was Carver’s que to finally look up from his phone.

“You missed one,” he said, pointing to the corner of the yard where someone notably smaller than the other men was cowering behind a truck bearing supplies.

The boy scurried out as Metres came near, holding his hands up in appeal. “hold up! hold up! it’s just my first day!”

Metres looked him over. He certainly looked like a novice, and he certainly didn’t look blue collar. Metres' innocent curiosity returned, and he cocked his head. “So you’re a fish or something? You don’t look like a construction worker.”

“y-yeah, i’m a piranha,” he said, holding his hands out. “my name’s petey, and i just took this for a summer job! i didn’t sign up for any of this!” He emerged fully from behind the truck, still nervous but knowing there was no reason to hide.

Now that he could see him fully, Metres let out a little gasp. “Oh wow, you’re adorable! Get over here, you!”

“wait wait no not really i’m-” Petey’s cries were smothered as Metres hugged him tight, pulling the fishboy close against his fat. Petey was pretty sure he felt a few of his bones break again as he was pushed against all of his struggling coworkers, who were quickly being dealt with by Metres’ belly.

Metres broke the hug, and Petey clattered to the ground. Yep, he’d definitely broken something.

“Alright, since I’m pretty sure it’s your first day, and you seem nice, I’ll let you off the hook!” Metres said. “Now you go on and get out of here! I just gotta sit down and let my legs rest from carrying all this weight…”

Without even waiting for Petey to leave, Metres began to sit down. Petey tried moving, but his bones refused to comply. Metres promptly sat on Petey, his ass so fat he didn’t even realize the fishboy was there, breaking all of his bones.

Petey tried struggling out from under Metres, but considering the bee at this point weighed at least a literal ton, that was impossible. Instead he was pinned there, his face between Metres’ asscheeks as the weight grew heavier all around him, his coworkers being digested and turned into soft assfat.

Carver came over and whispered to him with a chuckle. “Count yourself lucky, boy. This is the first time I’ve seen him let a slacker go.”

For some reason, this wasn’t much consolation to Petey, who was currently having his bones crushed into dust by Metres’ massive ass. Metres’ stomach gurgled and groaned loudly as the many men inside of it began to digest, their bodies being melted down and churned and glorped until nothing was left for them but to be pumped away into more soft, squishy fat.

Petey felt this firsthand. With each pump of Metres’ heavy guts, and with each heavy clench of his stomach, Petey felt the assfat that surrounded him grow heavier, denser. His face was firmly between Metres’ asscheeks, and the weight around him only seemed to surround him closer the more his stomach worked away its meal.

Metres rested back on his ass, oblivious to Petey’s entrapment. He rubbed his hands on his belly, wherein the screams and struggles of the defiant men had begun to wither away, and turned to Carver. “Don’t you worry, boss. Once I finish my meal, I’ll have more than enough energy to get this done today!”

“That’s why I pay you the big bucks,” Carver said, sitting down next to him and taking another swig of beer. He placed a hand on Metres’ stomach and sighed. “Just wish these kinds of poor bastards would listen to me for once, though.”

“Hey, it’s not so bad!” Metres said, shifting his weight and thereby grinding Petey between his asscheeks. “I’ve worked well with plenty of crews before! If they couldn’t keep up, they didn’t deserve to work with you anyways.”

His stomach gurgled and let out a large sloshing sound as several more men died inside of his gut. Metres had done this often enough that his body knew how to deal with such large servings. Within the hour, they’d be all gone, and he’d be back off to work as if nothing had ever happened.

The sounds of gurgling and churning filled the yard as his stomach contracted, squishing the few poor remaining souls in his belly into an even more dire situation. His body swelled with new weight, his thousand-pound gut gaining additional hundreds of new pounds with each man it consumed. His hips increased to the point where even a quadruple-width door would almost certainly fail to admit him. And, as poor Petey could attest, his ass was gaining countless new pounds with each passing minute, squishing him further against the ground.

Not too much more time had to pass before Metres’ stomach had dealt with the unruly construction workers. It sloshed and wobbled, carrying an immense amount of thick gutsludge. Only a few struggles from miserable survivors remained, and they wouldn’t last too much longer at this rate. Metres shifted his weight again as he accepted a soda from Carver, and the movement crunched and cracked Petey under him. The poor fishboy’s head was still deep between his ass, surrounded on all sides by that hot, sweaty fat.

“Alright,” Metres said as he stretched, moving to get up before falling back down on his ass from all of his new weight, crushing Petey again. He grunted, planted his hands on the ground, and forced himself up to his feet. Carver whistled as he took in just how large his subordinate had become. He was at least a couple feet taller, and had grown fat and wide enough that he could probably take up most of the space in one of the rooms they’d be constructing.

Metres took a few steps, carefully balancing himself as he got used to his new weight. Then, energized by his latest meal, he sprung into action, moving across the yard to grab timber and nails in the space of time it took Carver to take a single swig of his beer.

Petey laid crushed flat against the ground where Metres had sat on him, a notable indentation on his face and upper body from where his ass had pressed down the hardest. Carver came up to him and tossed down a few thousand. “There we go, that should cover the worker comp claims.”

“t-thank you sir…” Petey said sardonically as Carver lifted him up off the ground, dropping him a few moments later just outside the perimeter of the yard. The only other thing he said was asking Carver for his phone so he could dial his significant other, Azali, to come pick him up. Carver obliged, impressed that this fishboy had survived all of that weight at all.

It took maybe twenty minutes for Azali to get there, and by the time they drove away with Petey in tow, Metres was just putting the finishing touches on the house. He was moving around like a very fast thing on legs, laying down piping and nailing down floors and setting up doors and wiring electricity and whatever else goes into the making of a house.

After finishing, Metres collapsed in a heap outside the front door of the now-completed home. It was madness to think that, just an hour ago, there was nothing but a cleared dirt field here. This is why Carver kept him around, despite the whole “eating everyone who underperforms” aspect of his personal character. When he was energized, he could work faster than an entire crew of men.

“Fine work today,” Carver said, slapping a hand on Metres’ stomach that sent ripples moving across much of his midsection. “You go on home and get some good rest, you hear?”

“Yes sir!” Metres said with a salute. “I think those guys gave me enough energy that I could do this all week!”

“Good man. I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

“Of course! I’m gonna head home here, I just wanna stop at this diner first. They have great coffee, you should try it sometime!”

“Yes, I should,” Carver said, taking another chug of beer.

—

Velma heard Metres approaching this time, though she didn’t quite believe her ears. His approach sounded like a kaiju was approaching her location at speed. She rushed up front, sure some rampaging bull was going to come crashing through the doors, only to find Metres squeezing his way through the entrance with a great amount of difficulty. It was only with a great deal of gut sucking, luck, and minor architectural damage, that he was able to make it inside. He grouped up three chairs together and sat on them as one to hold his rear, and it didn’t work very well. Velma could hear them groaning and creaking and bending, but not quite breaking.

If he’d towered over her before, now Metres completely overshadowed her. She felt like she was looking at the side of a building, with how large and wide he’d become. Beads of sweat formed on her white fur, and she calmed herself. “Welcome back! You seem a little, uh, different?”

Metres giggled. “Me? No! This is just how I look at the end of a rough workday sometimes. It’ll burn off over the next few days of work I think.”

“Oh, okay,” Velma said, as if that actually answered the question. “Now, what can I get for you?”

“I’ll just take a coffee, and a ham sandwich to go.”

She stared blankly at him. “A ham sandwich?”

“Yeah, I just don’t feel full yet, y’know?”

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