She’d done it all. Taming lions, leaping through flaming rings, balancing on a tight-rope 20 feet in the air over a bed of spikes while pedaling on a unicycle and playing vocaloid songs up to their first chorus on the melodica in a blindfold…
Polka’s circus was all about pushing limits—and the audience always adored the headmaster’s creativity!—but it really seemed as though she was finally reaching those limits that she’d always dreamt to be nonexistent.
Every once in a while, relying on her more magical friends helped spice things up, like when Shion made an entire mountain of random garbage disappear, or when AkiRose opened up legitimate portals and teleported herself around the tent to the audience’s amazement… but Polka needed an attraction that would *stick*. Not some temporary collaborations nor cameos, and not any boring circus tricks that everyone had become used to at this point. No… something new, and something Polka could call her own…
She grunted, closing her eyes and bonking her forehead in hopes of shoving some imaginary idea directly into her brain. Opening her eyes, she sighed, leaning back in her desk chair to stretch before slouching her chin forwards and cupping it into her hands, defeatedly resting her elbows in her lap.
Then, her stomach rang out.
Polka groaned, lazily swinging her arm out and reaching for a couple of the wrapped cookies in her dressing room. She angrily tore one open and shoved it into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully, eyebrows curled into a pout. No matter how much time had passed, and no matter how hard she tried… she could never think of anything!
*mmrf-*
She crammed the rest of her first cookie past her lips and started ripping open a second, crumbs trickling down and scattering themselves everywhere. She moaned, gulping down what remained in her cheeks.
“Everyone else already left a while ago… gotta clean this shit up myself, I guess…”
She heaved herself up, hopping back onto her two feet, brushing crumbs from her lap and tummy off onto the ground, before heading over to the cleaning cabinet in her kitchenette. While looking for a dustpan, she swiftly scarfed down on her second cookie, before noticing how dry her throat was turning.
Pulling herself back up temporarily, she looked over to the refrigerator right next to her and peeked inside.
“Well, don’t mind if I do…” she hummed, helping herself to a can of soda. She carelessly cracked it open and threw it to her lips, chugging it without thinking.
*gnlp*
*ulp*
*mmlp*
“pWAAAaaahh!~”
She’d emptied the can in a matter of seconds, giddily catching her breath as she crunched the can up in her hand and tossed it into the recycling.
Though just as she was about to bend back down and look for a dustpan, she could feel the bubblings of a rushed can-emptying procedure brewing their way back up her throat. Considering none of her circusmates were still nearby considering the time of night it was, Polka didn’t even think to feign manners. She simply pounded her chest, and
*gwaAAOOourp!~*
“Naaahh~...”
She giggled to herself for a moment, before she…
*wait…*
“THAT’S IT!!”
・・・
*Polka, the Clown with the Inhuman Appetite!*
Posters were plastered all about the circus’s lobby and everyone was waiting eagerly for this new fresh act from the Omaru Circus.
But when the curtains rose and the visitors were shuffled into their seats, what came next was—while in hindsight, completely as advertised—a bit *too* on the clown-nose for most of the audience’s liking.
“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!! WELCOME TO THE ONE AND ONLY… OMARU CIRCUS!!” The grizzly announcer cheered. “TODAY, WE HAVE A SHOW THAT IS PRIMED TO SHOCK AND AMAZE ANYONE WITH A HUNGER FOR EXCITEMENT… NOW, WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, LET’S ALL GET HER OUT HERE!! EVERYONE, REPEAT AFTER ME!! ‘POLKA, YOU THERE?!’”
The audience boomed back with just as much enthusiasm.
“POLKA, YOU THERE?!”
And like a bolt of very, very loud sunshine, down came crashing the voice of the anticipated star of the show.
“I’M HERE!!~”
The exuberant clown twirled her way out onto the stage floor, circling around a giant tarp as her theme music rang out from the circus’s crackling speakers. She bowed to the left, spun to the opposite edge of her flashy stage and bowed to the right, all while beaming her standard contagious smile.
And as the opening drew to a close, the clown cleared her throat and grinned.
“What’s up, everyone! I’m here!! Today, we have a routine that’s been in the works for a good few days now! It’s somethin’ that’s completely new—no circus has ever before dared to try something this incredible!!”
That’s when she tugged the tarp off.
…it was just food.
A long, long table. With a *lot* of food.
That’s when the audience’s cheers and shouts halted…
“Well, let’s not keep anyone waiting, then!! Bon appetit!~”
…and were replaced with the sounds of eating.
・・・
She downed everything in front of her, sucking up every last crumb as if she were a fennec vacuum. Thick, piggish slurps and gulps echoed throughout the silent bleachers as the audience just blankly stared at Polka, the bloated headmaster mindlessly plowing her way through the act. No dish, no glass, no box went uncleaned—every ounce of food and drink vanished past the expanding fennec’s mouth.
Then, after nearly an hour and a half of nonstop devouring devoid of manners, everything fell still as Polka’s final cup had been thoroughly sucked down and subsequently dropped to the floor. With a clink, she exhaled, arching her back and proudly exemplifying the gut that had torn through her loveable uniform top.
“Aaaahhhn~ … th-thanks for the food!~” She purred.
Her once trim tummy was now a complete sphere, showing zero signs of wobbly fat as she playfully jostled its underside, giving its new weight a little test. It churned and gurgled with each light touch, and the poor fennec couldn’t help but moan at every tap. Her skirt was in shambles, unfastened and tossed beneath her seat, laying flat as a testament to just how girthy her middle-section had become during just that act alone… but even worse than all of the above was what was yet to come.
The growls and lurches from her tummy spiraled up, just as they’d done in her dressing room days prior. Polka smirked, before proudly digging her hands into her gut to help work it all out…
*hhUUUUOOAAAOOOOuuurrp!!!*
It was even louder than the lions the audience was more used to, her belch rolling and rumbling as she bellowed all that pent-up steam out, her belly almost visibly deflating with each passing second as she rolled her back further down, propping her gut up higher into the air for all to see.
But she wasn’t done.
She was far too full.
Unsure of whether to clap or boo, the audience sat still, perplexed at what they had just watched, and just what they were still watching. But before anyone could come up with a single consensus, the fennec just held up a finger, pounding her chest.
*bruOOUAARP-*
*hyAUurrrhrp…*
*...mmMMURROOAAUURAAORRRP!!*
“...nngh… anh… haah… ahhh… mffh… p-pardon!~”
She smiled, winked, and held up a peace sign, patting her belly in content.
Fortunately or unfortunately, no members of the audience were really given a great view of the clown’s face, due to the distance between their seats and the stage and the fact that she was still planted facing the table she’d just demolished… but if anyone *could* see her face, they’d be treated to a gaze of unadulterated bliss.
That was the first sign that this routine wasn’t going anywhere just yet.
・・・
After such a successful first showing a few months back, Polka’s infamous routine was on fire, thanks in part due to word of how revolting the display was running rampant all throughout Japan.
The circus gradually underwent slight renovations to better accommodate, promote, and commemorate this act, just as it would for any other new routine.
First was a denser stage… though it was more of a necessity after that shocking incident a month into the new act’s showings, where Polka’s left foot broke through the increasingly creaky wooden boards of the former stage.
Second was a welcoming promotional statue of the pudgier Polka for the lobby, both hands proudly hoisting up a tubby gut. With the fennec’s girthy ego, she was certainly a fan of this addition at first… but as time went on, due to that very same ego, Polka started to turn almost a bit weirdly competitive with the statue, laughing and slapping her own wobbly belly with smug remarks like “In the end, ya just can’t beat the real one, huh? ...Considering this baby’s growin’ every day, hehe!~”
But the third—and perhaps the most blaringly obvious—update was the headmaster herself.
Omaru Polka, a once limber and spry circus-goer, had ballooned up far larger than any of the best balloons that the background clowns could blow up. What once started as just a bit of bloat around her belly from eating too much was now copious conglomerates of blubber coursing through every limb of her body. From her chubby fingers, to her bulky shoulders, to her immense thigh meat, to the rolls upon rolls of belly swooping down and hiding any square inch of her thighs from being seen, she was definitely playing the role of a clown with an “inhuman appetite” and all of the consequences that came with such a title.
Her tummy was a blanket of soft, velvety fat that sagged well past her knees, taking the brunt of the comical amounts of calories she’d engulf on a nightly basis. Her breasts and ass, however, weren’t far behind, much to the uncertain delight of her male audience members, packing on considerable layers of flab, softening up her falls from both sides and pouring out onto any surface within Polka’s expanding radius. And adorning her usual chipper smile was a pleasantly plump face, bolstering her radiant grins with much chubbier cheeks and a rounded out rack of chins.
But all of this added size didn’t get in the way of Polka’s plans.
…Not all the time, anyways.
The clown was dead-set on pushing this act to its limits, much like she would with any of her other ambitions, and much she had been doing with her very own limits.
And so she thought, planned, sketched, practiced, scrapped and continued like her life depended on it.
Even if Polka landed face-first onto her safety mats when attempting to balance on her tightrope before tumbling down under her own girth a dozen times… even if Polka tore threw another dozen leotards while attempting a plus-sized dance sequence… she still had backups upon backups.
…Albeit most of which just involving delving even further down her own gluttonous rabbithole.
She’d weight herself before getting her strongest strongmen to try and deadlift her, she’d partake in eating contests with some of her friends, she’d humiliate herself with dumbbells and treadmills, she’d load herself up on soda and belch out words and song lyrics for the audience… and of course, she’d eat.
She would eat *a lot*.
・・・
She’d tried it all. Taming lions with thick slabs of meat, before inevitably giving in and tearing through it herself… leaping through flaming rings, until being told by management that even practicing such a stunt would leave her incredibly injured considering her waist-size couldn’t even pass through any of the rings even if they *weren’t* flaming… balancing on a tight-rope 20 feet in the air over a bed of spikes while pedaling on a unicycle and playing vocaloid songs up to their first chorus on the melodica in a blindfold, which obviously never made it past the first part in any practice since a rope that could withhold her weight simply was too expensive for their budget…
Polka’s circus was all about pushing limits—and the audience had really gained a newfound fascination for just how far these limits could go—but it was almost seeming as though Polka had no limits to push to begin with, as the limits of her belly simply grew with each feast of an act.
Every once in a while, relying on her more magical friends helped spice things up, like when Shion tried to make an entire mountain of food disappear before Polka could eat a mountain of the same size, or when AkiRose opened up legitimate portals to help teleport Polka’s increasingly immobile form around the tent to the audience’s amazement… but…
…Well, there actually wasn’t a “but.”
The audience’s morbid fascination with the headmaster’s growth in combination with Polka’s neverending greed and lust for her fatty figure made this new routine perfect for the circus. Despite the stark difference in Polka’s physical appearance, she truly was the same old Polka… a completely and utterly unstoppable force.
Just maybe a bit more unstoppable than before.