"Well…" he drawled, paw lowering to cup the pudgy mound dangling over his belt. "Just a little something to help with my weight, if you had anything…" He just about kept his voice steady as he kneaded the base of his belly, the dough wobbling despite the confines of his taut shirt.
Yeah… little something.
In hindsight, it should have been obvious. He adored Judy, and he was… sure she felt the same way, but they were complete opposites in so many ways. She was steeped in the law, him in the various ways around it. She the studious, over-eager, overachiever, and he the flexible wrangler, looking for the smartest solution with the least effort involved, all smoothed over with a deft quip. She the shining light of a city's greatest self-delusions and he the reflection of its deepest-seated, most swept away issues dragged into the limelight. Okay, maybe that was a bit far—she had got so, so much better at not charging headlong into danger and would now at least consider the risks… before still charging in—but it mattered. They were different. It was what made them work. What made them so formidable together. But it also led to the predicament straining the seams of his standard-issue pants.
"I must say that I thought I recognised you, Officer Wilde." He tore his gaze up from the dome of blue, straight into the kind smile of the ovine giant. Yes, he was sure it was kind. The soft glow in her eyes certainly looked it. "Though you don’t quite look the same as in your posters…"
Air jetted out his nose atop a wan smile. Of course: first fox was always going to get billing near the top when the city was desperate to flaunt its non-prejudiced image. Emphasis on image, there. "I deserve that," he drawled, chuckling as he patted his belly. "The life of an officer seems to suit me…" It suited both of them, he was sure, just in… different ways. Judy was a whirlwind of energy and enthusiasm, a true force of nature, and he… went along with her. He knew his own mind and his strengths—and his worth as a law-mammal—but he couldn't quite keep up with Judy’s regimen, at least full time. That little bunny seemed to live for the gym, or her runs, or her aerobics, or her yoga, fuelled by an endless stream of lean proteins and greens and shakes, and he… didn't. Sure, he had been able to join her in those initial weeks fresh of the street, trim himself down a little, tune up his newly-unhardened heart and tone up his noodly appendages enough to make it out of the Academy alive. He had even been able to maintain that through graduation and his first few weeks back on the streets for his first beats. Striding down the sidewalk, Judy beaming at his side, shades glinting in the sun, his biceps actually taut against his sleeves… the shape of his life…
"I'll say…"
Blinking, he alighted on the goat's cheeky smirk, her eyes twinkling. Gently. His coat only slightly bristling… and tingling of its own accord. No time to throw even this much weight around. He launched his own grin, sure of his fresh dimples. "I would say 'how dare you', ma'am, but…" He hefted his belly up—okay… it nearly buried his paw, now—and let it drop, his back straining as the blubbery mass descended and jostled and oscillated magnificently against his shirt. "It is fairly noticeable, I would agree…" Would he? Or would he be honest and admit that was an understatement. It had been noticeable when he first noticed those few lashings of pudge clinging to his midriff, imperceptible to others but not to him. It has been noticeable to others when a few bundles of fluff shacked up with their friends to play ring-a-round a belly-button, or else found fresh digs in the virgin territory of his buttocks and finally fill the seat of his pants, or deemed that his ribs needed screening with a welcoming presence of blubber so his creamy fluff wasn't only peeking through the bottom of his shirt… "It's a little embarrassing, really…" And all that had only been the start… and a couple of uniforms ago… and twenty pounds ago…
"Oh?"
Another blink reminded Nick he was still in the shop. And under the lofty gaze of a certain goat, her hooves on her plush hips, voluminous belly almost resting on the counter between them. "No offence, ma'am," he said, smothering a yelp, paws knotting. He flashed her a winning grin. "If I may, you are certainly blessed with your figure…" That was it, tilt the head, let the eyes grow just that little bit heated, and…
She snorted, but her smirk held. Success. "Charming…" She leaned over the counter, bosom straining against her top in a strangely familiar way. "And yet you wish to lose your own curves, Officer?"
Hi slips pursed, smothering the squeak. No. He could feel himself straining under his pants. Not the time, not the time!
"I guess it's more that I could do with eating healthier…" Yet more understatements, Wilde? He certainly hadn't thought as much for months, what with his soft flanks built upon mounds of empty, greasy, delicious warmth straight from the drive-through, the endless array of breakroom cakes and pastries and sweets carving out an ever wider curve to his belly, or the sweet embrace around his thickening chest of molten cheese and imitation meats fresh from the microwave. The only fruits in his diet being the blob of sugary goodness filling the home-spun bundles from his contacts out in the burrows, blueberries peak of them all, taking pride of place at the heart of his backside. "And I could probably hit the gym a little more…" When was the last time he had been? Not since the last physical, certainly, and the steely glare of a certain buffalo resting on his middle, his shirt having ridden up and exposed his belly in all its creamy, blubbery glory, and the grunt that he had passed. Oh, no, he remembered. It was the day he wore his Academy gear and blew out his shorts on the second squat. Had he been for a run since…? "You know, little things, like my partner is always asking me to do. Keep up with her." He unleashed another smile. Not the one he had when he teased Judy about having a bigger bust than she did—though that was one way to keep up with her. "I am an officer, after all." Puffing his chest—with air, brain, and it was not the time for thinking about how it felt so tight against his shirt—he straightened up, his spine cursing him. "I should be setting a good example, if nothing else, plus I could do with being in-shape." He dipped his muzzle, smirk glinting. "You know, on the off chance someone wants to actually evade the law."
The goat chuckled, her tummy squishing in on itself for a moment. Good—he still had her on side. "Well, in that case…"
But did he have to be in shape? Well, that had been answered the day he first spied Pennington dragging that llama through the atrium. Now, Francine was lovely, a great laugh in the bull-pen, and that smile sent all sorts of wrong endorphins through him, but even she would admit that she was on the hefty side for an elephant. But beyond that… he knew his own mind. Desperately so. "Some of these are a little experimental…" And he knew just how much he loved seeing Judy scowl at him as he reached for a third doughnut of a morning, her ears erect and her nose twitching adorably as he cupped his full belly. He knew the sheer joy of watching her sprint out of their squad are and off into the distance after her next collar, only for him to scooch his wide backside across into the driving seat and intercept their quarry at an obscure junction she hadn't thought of, barely able to lecture him between breaths about the tod-tits perched atop his tummy or the trunky thighs smothered by it. He knew the school-kit giddiness of her standing over him, fresh off an hours-long session in the gym before their movie night, while he sheepishly poured out a fresh bowl of popcorn for them, careful to avoid upsetting his taut stomach and tighter loungewear. "And I appreciate that you might be a little sceptical of my methods, Officer…" He knew the thrill—the sheer transgressive tingles vaulting through every inch of him—of hearing every tut while he shovelled more and more food into his ever-expanding belly, every scoff whenever he patted his bulk, every grouse at his blowing off joining her at the gym, knowing full well she was holding back a smirk with all of them. She had to be, by the lights in her eyes. Right?
But even so… did he love all that enough to truly jeopardise all she had done for him in getting him on this side of the law? Plenty of officers in their unit were hefty, but they still worked out… and fifty-five pounds was a lot for a fox that had barely cracked thirty when he joined…
"But!" Nick snapped back to the goat and her wide, toothy smile. Whatever his thoughts, he could at least humour her, right? "I think I have something here for you…"
1) A special set of underwear and undershirt. They can be adjusted to give the wearer the appearance of whatever weight they desire using a remote control. However, they do not affect the wearer's actual appearance or how this is affected by their actions while wearing the undies, which will be revealed whenever they take them off…
2) Some training gear suited for your generous frame. (The gear is imbued with the ability to offload excess weight onto those in the nearby area whenever the wearer is exercising… whether Stephanie decides to inform Nick of this or not!)
3) A pair of bespoke watches with tracking technology, so that he can try to match that routine his partner keeps jibing him about. Plus it has the ability to switch attributes between the two wearers…
4) A whole range of well-fitting clothes. Being plus-size herself, Stephanie is aware of the challenges of finding a suitably stylish wardrobe. Nick is impressed. And it is enchanted to encourage the wearer that being bigger is not so bad… it's fine… it's better… so much better…
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