gazelle neck

"You. Can you help me?" The gazelle asked the man behind the desk, hands braced on the edge as she leans in to him.

"With… what, ma'am?" The man, a plastic surgeon and cosmetic surgery expert asked, brow perked. The German Shepherd seemed a bit confused but curious.

"I'm a gazelle. Right? Gazelles have long, slender necks. Like mine!" She says, gesturing to her neck. It was indeed slender with a hint of its strength to it. That's just how gazelles were.

Before giving him a chance to speak, she continues, "I don't WANT a slender neck. I… I want a bigger neck."

"So… a neck extension? I can do that, it can be somewhat painful and takes several months as you have to-"

"No! Not a longer neck! I want… a BIGGER neck. Fatter. Doctor, I want the world's… fattest neck."

It was clear he couldn't believe what he was hearing. He'd heard people who wanted to graft fat from their bellies onto their backsides, and other things like that, but a fatter neck? No less, the world's fattest neck. It… would be possible but not something through surgery. Normally, this would be out of his scope, but some morbid curiosity grabbed a hold of him and he was already visualizing.

"Come. Come around here, through this door. And follow me down the hall…"

The two go on through the halls before approaching a door. They enter and he closes it behind them. A fairly standard operating room with lots of tools and machines.

"This isn't something I would… normally do, Miss Underwood. But… I have to say, it's something I want to be a part of. It's not something I can do through surgery directly, but I can do a few things to help… guide it. Sit, please, sit."

Lydia sat down where a standard operation would begin. A rather cushy chair with a light overhead. The doctor stood over her, looking her over, before using a caliper to feel at her neck, as well as measuring the length and diameter. All while ideas ran through his head on how this would work. His mind rolled through a number of scenarios and possibilities as he looked her over and took various measurements.

“I definitely think your goals are attainable. But not quite exactly in the way you had in mind. It will require some more general weight gain via, well, the more typical means. But there are medications and stretches and a few other tricks of the trade to help move plenty of weight to that neck of yours.” The doctor explains, rubbing his gloved paws together.

This was not the exact answer she wanted. She narrowed her eyes at him and pondered for just a moment before piping up, “Well, why isn’t there a better way to do this? I’m telling you, I need this. And I need it now. As soon as possible.” The look on her face showed that she was serious. The doctor can only sigh.

“Nothing like this has ever really been… tried before. This is something pretty much unheard of. Most cosmetic surgery and treatment is for… losing weight or getting bigger breasts or what have you. But- ah- a larger neck, and not a longer one, isn’t exactly something that has been researched.” He continued to explain, her impatience palpable in the operating area.

There was little room to argue, despite her strong desires getting her fired up. This was what she wanted more than anything else. Such a bizarre wish, but it was one that has been tossing around in her mind for as long as she could remember. The gazelle gives one last look to the doctor, eyes narrowed. Ultimately, though, knowing there was no other option, she gives him a confirming nod. “But I want it done as fast as possible. No matter what. Got it?”

“It’s a lengthy process because… well, to gain weight, your caloric intake must be higher than what you expend. Meaning… eating and not losing the calories through exercise or work or whatever else.”

“I’m not stupid, I know how that works. How fast can I put on weight? I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Her eagerness was almost enough to set him back some, but he gives her a glance as he approaches a computer nearby. Plenty of research and other documents to search and rummage through. The german shepherd mumbled to himself as he starts looking into what it would take to really pile the weight onto her. Of course, there were plenty of studies on how to do the opposite. His eyes flit back and forth as a few small, obscure documents are brought up on screen.

“Well, Lydia, uh… there’s a few things we can do, but, it might not be totally kosher, and you’ll have to sign…” He glances towards the computer screen and grimaces. “A few liability forms.”

“I told you, I don’t care. Doctor, look, there’s nothing I want more than this. I’ll do whatever it takes. I said that. What is it? What do I have to do?”

“Well, you’ll need to make sure you clear up your schedule for a time. You’ll need to stay here for quite some time to make sure everything is tended to, as you’ll not be doing much except… eating, really. Of course, we can take you out of the operating room proper until any sort of procedures or treatment needs to be done. As long as you’re able to… pay for everything, the staff here can take care of it. But I will be doing most of it, as you are my client, and I’ll be overseeing this project of ours. It’s doable.”

“So, what you’re saying… is I’m effectively going on a very expensive vacation inside a hospital. And all I have to do… is eat. And you’ll be SURE I have the world’s fattest neck. Right?!” Her eyes practically bulged out of her head. She wanted this. Needed it. The doctor could tell. It almost brought a smile to his face. Some part of him… itched. Like maybe this was wrong. It was wrong. But she was a very valuable client, who could provide very valuable research. Effectively a science experiment that pays for itself. Her next question shook off that itch.

“So when do I start signing? I’m serious about all of this. Money isn’t an issue. Really.” Lydia insisted, leaning forward in the surprisingly comfortable operating chair she was sitting in.

✛✛✛

Things went fairly smoothly, albeit a bit awkwardly. Lydia was set up in a room set up to be as cushy as possible. Entertainment to some degree, a surprisingly comfortable bed for a hospital, and plenty of food available at every opportunity, stocked personally by the doctor’s decisions for her caloric needs. 2,000 calories per day is the average person’s needs. He was hoping to work her up towards nearly 6,000 per day, if not more, as per her request to move things along as quickly as possible. At first, she had trouble adjusting to eating so much, and frequently went to bed early with stomach aches, harshly reducing her intake for the day. It occurred to him, however, that he could add whatever he needed to help the patient adjust. Things to slow her metabolism, aid digestion, increase appetite; all chemicals and supplements available to him without much issue.

Most of the staff was not let in on the dog’s personal project and he insisted on taking care of most of it himself. He would restock her food. He would be the one to come in and take measurements. He would be the one to apply the brace on her neck, to administer the injections to influence the surrounding tissue to be more susceptible to housing, expanding and multiplying fat cells. It was becoming a very personal project for him; one he had much more interest than he should. It was beyond his profession that drew him to this gazelle with bizarre, unheard of interests. In fact, the german shepherd gave up all other potential projects to spend more time and focus on this gazelle that sucked up all his attention… and food.

The days continued to roll by and this new project continued to take up more of the doctor’s life, all while Lydia was more than enjoying her new setup. Food whenever she wanted, which was almost always unless she was stuffed to bursting. This was a more and more frequent occurrence as her desire to further develop her neck drove her crazy, to the point that she dreamt about how it might look in time. Images of a neck resembling a stack of progressively smaller pancakes that encircle and support her head roiled through her mind when she slept. Her stomach capacity continued to increase at an incredible rate, both by natural stretching and the chemical supplements provided by the german shepherd.

Lydia was in a constant daze, given that her body diverted most of her energy to her digestive tract to process the unnatural amount of food that passes through it as she stuffs herself and grazes throughout the day, that her body simply wasn’t used to. It certainly didn’t help that these foods were often incredibly rich, saturated with grease, loaded with sugar, or some combination of the above. It left her body ironically craving nutrition despite all that she ate every single day, and Lydia grew progressively more lethargic, not aided by the weight piling onto her body. Despite all the new sensations her growing body was given her, some pleasant, some not so much, she was in her own personal heaven. It pleased her particularly well when the doctor took his weekly measurements of her neck. Seeing that number tick high, even minutely, sent shivers up her spine and made her hooves clack together. Her neck was not the only part of her that continued to swell with layers of fresh fat; her natural pear shape was not spared the onslaught of calories packed into her guts on a daily basis. In fact, natural shaping was heavily exaggerated as her hips widened, the swells on each having their own definite wobble. Not much, though, compared to the hefty cheeks that hypnotically jiggled behind her whenever she decided to get up and about her comfy little living space. Even her belly was beginning to fold over her waistline. They were all developments that even the german shepherd found himself fond of, spending a little extra time with her every time he took her various measurements.

✛✛✛

These frequent and ever growing feedings only continued to develop with quick and rather drastic results. An assortment of measurements all expanded before her very eyes; the doctor would weigh her on a scale, he would measure the girth of her neck, take her waist measurements, check body fat percentages, among a number of others that he took weekly or even daily on some accounts. Things were changing quite quickly for Lydia, in more ways than she had expected. Who knew putting on dozens of pounds of naught but pure fat in such a short time span could have some unintended side effects? The first noticeable one was having to replace her clothes after her cream-colored belly began to hang out of her top and her jeans simply weren’t making it up her chunky thighs anymore. More comfy clothes made of a soft, stretchy material were brought in so she wouldn’t have to go nude, even though the doctor has seen her nude dozens of times prior when taking measurements.

The gazelle spent more and more time nestled in her comfy little bed that began to squawk and groan beneath her newfound bulk, protesting her new lifestyle, much like the gurgles of her guts did. The few times she did find herself up on her hooves - to visit the restroom, when she was feeling restless, or just to get up and grab the snacks from her well-stocked pantry and fridge - she found that her thighs grazed against each other and actually had to be worked around to accommodate her gait. Her bottom heavy figure certainly granted her a prominent waddle, setting all her newfound poundage jostling with each awkward step. She found herself working up a sweat just from the waddle to the fridge and a trip to the bathroom, then to her bed. All that doing nothing and eating all the junk she could physically stomach has more than taken its toll on her. To her, though, there was no cost too high to achieving her goals of having her neck reach unseen sizes. Sometimes, as she lie in bed popping treats into her maw for the fourth hour in a row, she would think about the silliness of the idea - to think someone would want the world’s fattest neck. It would embarrass her if it didn’t excite her so much.

Of course, it goes without saying that she was not the only one enthralled by her bodily developments. As he inspected her or fed her, his eyes would trail down her comparatively small breasts, frequently unsupported by a bra as they were “too much work” in her eyes; then down to her gut which had folded upon itself at her deep navel to sag over her crotch which, to her surprise, had plumped up a surprising amount as well; however, her lower body stole the show. Her flabby middle widened out into the impressive swells of her hips, saddlebagged on the sides, forming creases as it hangs over her similarly blubbery thighs. They lead back to a rear end so hefty it actually increases her height some when she’s sat down on it, and it spreads out around her when she does as well, making her look even bigger. It causes some issues, particularly the stretchy material of her pants riding up and wedged up between them. A price to pay for perfection, she always figured.

What pleased the gazelle and the doctor the most, though, was just how much her neck had taken to various treatments and injections that would coerce the development and growth of fat cells there. Replacing her formerly pencil-like neck were two rolls resembling doughnuts, a smaller one supporting her head that rested on a larger one that was just a few inches away from drooping against her breasts. She could actually feel it ever so slightly when she took a deep breath. Almost as if it were beginning to put pressure on her windpipe. A daunting but exhilarating sensation. Just talking or even walking made it jiggle or quiver faintly, but she could feel every tiny movement and they were all so perfect.

“Doc, I have to say… I am loving this more and more. This is incredible.”

“Good, good. I have to ask, though… are you fine where you are? Or do you want to continue?”

It was a question she herself didn’t really have an answer to. It took her by blindside even. Did she want to continue? She felt more lethargic than ever, and being so heavy was uncomfortable at times. Lydia knew that it would be nearly impossible to turn back if she decided to keep going down this path. A few idle pats and squeezes of her neck, though, convinced her otherwise. She had to keep going. This wasn’t nearly record breaking and she wanted to absolutely shatter that world record, and then blow right past it. Lydia wanted the fattest neck in the world, and then some, no matter what. Determination welled up in her chest! Or a belch, either one. A belch that she could feel in her neck, even. Another shudder up her spine.

“I don’t want to continue. I NEED to. More than I’ve ever told you before. I want to go until I can’t.”

✛✛✛

The day had come. This was it. A celebration for both of them. The doctor had achieved greatness in some backwards, twisted way that made him anxious some nights. He would be remembered for this, without a doubt, and all thanks to this gazelle he had before him. Now, though, he was preparing himself and his client for the big visit. The two had finally reached a point where they believed they could more than safely contend for the official record of “World’s Fattest Neck”. Faxes, phone calls, and emails were exchanged between Guinness and the doctor. The doctor was sure to include as many photographs as he could to prove that they had obliterated the world record for fattest neck held by a dragon. The record observers were floored by what they had seen and were almost certain that the photographs were doctored or manipulated. The two agreed to a meeting, the doctor more than eager to show off his project to the world and beyond now that they have achieved their goals.

The observers, both dressed in a simple suit and tie, and equipped with various recording equipment, from cameras to tapes, calipers, rulers, among other things. Despite looking prepared, they had no idea what they were going to be walking into as they made their way into the facility. They ducked the wandering eyes of more typical patients wanting to see their doctor and walked down what seemed like endless, sterile white hallways until they reached a nook that did not seem to see much activity, and was almost separate from the rest of the building. With a swing of the door and hurried gesturing to get inside, the observers were taken back in every way imaginable.

Within the room, dominating it by sheer size alone, was the gazelle from those months ago. A gazelle who had achieved her dreams and then some. Now unrecognizable, buried as she was beneath the hundreds upon hundreds of pounds that smothered her diminutive frame from head to toe. Pictures of her progress line the walls, and one could barely tell that a picture from just two years ago was here - the smile on her face, slender neck - all of it squished and loaded with blubber. The bed was no longer an option and hasn’t been for quite some time. At least, not with a frame. Two mattresses sit on the floor beneath her to accommodate her massive bulk; even with both of them sat side by side, her immense hips threaten to spill over the sides of them. If she were to keep this up, they would need another mattress. Or two. Rolls upon rolls cover her body, sagging in one direction or another, as her body has stored fat as rapidly as possible, even if it isn’t fully coherent. What was once a wobbling pendulum of a double gut is now a pile divided up into four - sometimes five - rolls, with her navel long buried deep in a crease between the second and third. Stretch marks line it, easily seen where the fur has thinned out on particularly overgrown, far reaching rolls of fat. The rest of her body was not spared this fate, either, as her hips, rear, thighs, and even her arms were marked with trophies showing off her gluttony. Her pear shape is heavily distorted by just how fat she had become, but it was certainly present and wasn’t hiding anywhere. With her back to the wall, her ass, which rose in two wobbling, jostling peaks, smooshed against the wall and pressed up against her back fat, which developed particularly heavily around her shoulder blades to give the appearance of a separate set of breasts upon her back.

These stacks of back fat, however, pushed up against something else. Her neck was her crown jewel, the part of her body that shined to her and stood out among the rest. Her slender neck, small enough around that one could wrap their thumb and forefinger around it at one point, could hardly be recognized as such. Tiered into four full-sized rolls, with the lowest sagging halfway down her chest and resting atop her breasts and over even her shoulders, and the topmost putting pressure on her skull and jaw, making talking a bit of a task. Her head was fully supported by the heaving, concentric rolls surrounding it. The original shape of her neck was so entombed in the remnants of millions of calories that the muscles within no longer found use. The doctor suspected that if, by some extremely unlikely miracle, the gazelle was to lose weight, she would be unable to support her own head without a brace. Not only was it obstructive and made certain, very simple tasks such as looking around or even talking difficult, but it was so oppressively heavy that it placed burdened on her windpipe and turned her usually heavy breathing into a strained, whistling wheeze that required outside support with oxygen being pumped into her snout.

The observers nearly dropped everything they had with them, so caught off guard by the sights, sounds, and smells of this gazelle. The two men mutter to each other, not taking their eyes off of Lydia for even a single second. They simply could not believe what they were seeing. The gazelle before them was bigger than anyone they had ever seen. Just by looking at her, they believed that only had she more than claimed the record she was aiming for, but she very well may have snatched up “World’s Fattest Person” as well. In morbid curiosity of similarly morbid obesity, the two observers approach, and can feel the body heat radiating off the veritable mound of gazelle. Sweat trickled in and out of the deep folds lining her body, forming a circle of dampness around her. As if to welcome their arrival, a heavy, guttural belch escapes her maw, accompanied by the usual groan of relief. The raucous belch was enough to send a sluggish wobble across the entirety of her body - rolls of fat slap against each other wetly. One hell of a welcome.

“Do forgive her. Given her… stature, specifically regarding what I’ve called you for here today, her neck, it is a bit difficult for her to speak, so I’ll be representing her this evening.” He spoke with a heavy confidence and a smug grin on his face.

"How did she get like this?" One of the observers queried, which made the doctor's grin grow even wider. The gazelle smiles too, heavily dimpling her fat, jowly cheeks. It bunched up her neck fat like an accordion.

The four rolls of her neck scrunches up into several, rolls and creases forming from the pressure of moving her head atop them. Closer inspection showed that the fur was thinning on her neck as well, which revealed the dimpling of cellulite which had grown quite prominent, aided by the doctor's injections to increase the number of fat cells present.

"She wanted it. She came to me and told me it was what she wanted more than anything else. And I helped. It took a lot of food, supplements, injections… but we did it. Now look at her, she's incredible."

Now closer to her, the could see that her neck rose up behind her head, almost acting as a pillow, just as much as it propped her head up. Her cheeks sagged onto the topmost roll and pooled out from there. The amount of fat on her face scrunched up by her neck distorted her visage to an extent. They could see the deep folds that separated the rolls were very damp with sweat, trickling down alongside the radiating stretch marks.

"Well, sir. While my colleague here begins to take measurements merely as… a formality at this point, I have some news for you. Not only have you and your gazelle friend here broken the record for World's Fattest Neck, but for World's Fattest Person. Without a doubt. Obviously, we'll be taking measurements and so on to include the information in our records, but… she's simply massive."

The gazelle catches their attention with a low, husky moan, their words exciting her to no end. All it really succeeded in doing was making her strained breath even more of a struggle.