This choice: CAN YOU SMELL WHAT THE ROC IS COOKING?!!? • Go Back...Chapter #4CAN YOU SMELL WHAT THE ROC IS COOKING?!!? by: Unknown Marc blew an impressed whistle as he looked up at the distant ceiling of the gold division's residence hall, which was enormous even by anthro standards. Framed black-and-white photographs of anthros fighting in the ring periodically hung the distance along the crimson wall, bordered with white molding against the ceiling, which arched up in a tall concave with intricately designed gold arches meeting in the center beam, from which lights filled with shining crystals were hanging.
Pretty classy for giants paid to beat the crap out of each other... Marc snickered as he pulled out a slip of paper out of his pocket, which bore directions to his new mistress' room.
Hello, Marc Youngblood ,and welcome to the Gold Division of the Anthro Sumo League!
You are one of few with the privilege to help maintain the flow of one of the world's greatest pasttime and invigorate the spirit of our reigning champions, bringing excitement to thousands of eager fans spanning across the globe!
Your assigned champion is Avery Etherglades of chamber 722 ! We wish you a hearty welcome and hope you enjoy your experiences in the Anthro Sumo League!
"722...722...772..." Marc muttered as her walked down with his eyes on the brass number plates on each door of the hall. The doors were incredibly big, each a couple stories tall and almost as wide. Behind a few he could hear muffled, adamant voices, as though their owners were demanding something or scolding a staff member.
But a ground-shaking WHAM!!! slamming into the wall behind him made him jump and spin around in shock, just in time to see a framed picture fall and shatter on the ground. By fate's hand, the door's plate read 722.
"AND THE CROWD GOES WILD!!!" Somebody whooped inside, followed by a chain rattling.
With his heart pounding from the surprise, Marc uneasily approached the door, fearful of the potential strength of this "Avery", and how big she could possibly be against his relatively tiny body. A doorbell was built for his height into the doorframe, which he took a few moments of self-encouragement to press with his thumb. But in an unusually quick instance the door swung open on its own, with nobody to greet him.
"C'min!" A voice called from inside.
Marc obeyed, stepping into a room that almost looked like a gymnasium stocked with giant-scaled dumbbells, a bench press, and all other kinds of exercise equipment, with a gold-sized bed standing in the corner. In the left half of the room was a hulking, monster-sized roc whaling into a punching bag chained to the ceiling, rallying into it three times before its chain snapped and it soared into the wall away from her. Her body was covered in spotty gray feathers with a head of straight, decent-lengthed brown hair, sporting a medium-sized curled beak that looked as though it was carved from metal. He couldn't tell how "XL" the black t-shirt and gym shorts she was wearing were, but assumed they were far beyond the thousands.
Oh, joy... Marc dreaded as he verified his new boss' size. She looked to be near thirty feet tall, and her balloon-body was ludicrously swollen with fat, but beneath her obese exterior he could see copious amounts of muscles that made her limbs even wider than he'd think possible, her legs large enough that her mammoth-sized butt completely filled her body's width. Her shirt's design was blurred as it stretched around her titanic breasts, and only covered about a third of her stomach's surface area as it sprawled out onto the ground. But rather than hang in front of her like a saggy blob, it boasted a firm, orb-like roundness from constant exercise he assumed she always practiced.
She stomped on a button on the ground, which made another punching bag lower from a panel in the ceiling. Tensing her fists, she stroke three more punches into the bag, sending it flying into the growing pile against the wall.
"Yeah...that's the stuff!" She sighed proudly, then turned her head to look down at Marc. "So, you that new 'Marco' guy working here?"
"Yup. It's Marc, though."
"Gotcha. Name's Avery!" She picked up a drink the size of an oil drum from a shelf on the wall and took a long swig, wiping her beak upon breaking away. "Wanna drink?"
"Nah, I think I'm good."
"Suit yourself."
Her belly dragged along the floor as she heaved her bulk to a full-body mirror on the wall, staring straight in the eyes of her own reflection. She clenched her fists and slowly raised them in front of her face, then started throwing empty punches at the mirror.
"So, uh...anything you need me to do, Avery?"
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