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Story / Fat Furs
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After a team of dogs are exposed to a strange element, the canines begin to notice odd, corpulent changes befalling their bodies.
NOTE: This is actually a long-lost commission for
Steve Wolfe that I finished a few months ago. He said he wanted it posted on FA, and after repeatedly forgetting to post it, I finally got around to it.
Dolby Vixen makes a guest appearance.
“Clear.”
The group of canines all walked inside the temple after the leader signaled them to move. They could hear faint rumbling outside and watched as various rocks and bits of debris fell from the ceiling. One of the gray wolves sniffled and shook his head while the others waited for the rumbling to stop. After it did, the canines all walked through the temple’s secret entrance, ducking low to avoid the short doorway. Once the canines got inside, they turned on the flashlights on the ends of their assault rifles and started to look around. They stepped meticulously, making sure that their heavy black boots didn’t trigger any booby traps.
“So where is this so-called weapon?” asked one Saint Bernard.
The leader, a dark gray wolf with a white stomach who sported several battle scars, shrugged. “No idea. Heard it’s something that can immobilize the enemy. Considering we’re getting our asses handed to us, we could use it.”
The Saint Bernard grinned. “Chemical weapon, eh? Maybe a bunch of acid-spewing bombs?”
Another canine snorted and glared at the Saint Bernard. “Just be quiet and keep looking. And watch where you’re stepping! You trying to lose that footpaw?!”
The Saint Bernard was about to step down when he blinked and looked in front of him. A very thin, almost invisible tripwire was on the floor. The canine exhaled and stepped over the wire, shaking his head. The other six dogs started to aim their guns up and down, making sure that there weren’t any enemies or hostile traps lined up around the walls or ceiling. The air was musty and warm, with dust floating around the canines’ faces. The floor was covered with sand and gravel, and what appeared to be a few animal skulls with sand filled inside the bony mouths. The dark gray wolf rubbed his muzzle before he leaned against a wall. He immediately moved away, thinking he just heard a subtle click. The wolf growled and lowered his gun.
“Looks like we’re clear. There’s nothing here.”
“Indeed. Not even this stupid weapon Intel said would be located in this temple,” said the other gray wolf.
“This is the third location we’ve been to today! I’m starting to think it doesn’t even exist!” said the Saint Bernard.
“Shut it, Dunlap. If Commands wants us to search these temples, we search these temples. We’re bound to find something at some point.”
The dark gray wolf took off his helmet and sighed as he rubbed his head and scratched his ears. He was tempted to take off his black clothing—his dark pants and long-sleeved shirt was thick and itchy, and wearing all his body armor only slowed him down and made him feel heavier than he really was. Everyone else looked just like him: sweaty, hot dogs who wanted to return to the barracks so they could enjoy a hot meal and take a nap before they were deployed for some kind of late night mission. The gray wolf sniffed and put his helmet back on just before a heavy Rottweiler kicked a small pebble in frustration, irritated that they found nothing.
“Let’s face it, Steve: this is another dud. We might as well—”
The canines stopped talking when they heard a small whirring noise. Two canines pointed their rifles around the temple while others started to sniff the air.
“Hey, you guys smell that?” asked Dunlap.
Steve sniffed a few times and blinked. “Nothing out of the ordinary…air’s kinda humid and musty—all the temples we’ve been to smell like that.”
“But you don’t smell anything…odd?”
“Yeah, those sweat socks you keep laying beside your bed. That’s the only odd thing I’ve smelled in the last week!” said the other gray wolf.
Three of the canines giggled while Dunlap started to growl. Steve rubbed his nose and sighed heavily.
“I’m scrappin’ the mission. Let’s head back to base everyone—we’ll see what the commanders have to say tomorrow.”
The Rottweiler shrugged. “You’re the boss, Steve.”
“Yeah, let’s go,” said the gray wolf.
The other dogs followed their leader out of the temple with no complaints, although Dunlap was still cautious, sniffing the air and frowning as he detected something strange hovering in the air. Steve turned around and gestured for him to follow the group outside, at which point the dog ignored the scent and walked out. None of the creatures inspected the temple as thoroughly as they should have though. If they had, they would’ve seen a tiny device that had risen from the sandy floor with holes along the side. The tiny device whirred again and disappeared into the earth, and the creature controlling the mechanism grinned to himself, knowing his plan was bound to work.
The team of seven canines were all sleeping in their beds, either snoring, mumbling, or drooling in their sleep. Even Dunlap, despite his suspicions in the temple, managed fall asleep faster than anyone else, his belly stuffed with delicious fried meats and cheesy eggs. The Saint Bernard didn’t think about the battles and special missions he and his team were going on. All that mattered to him were the mouth-watering images floating around in his head. Dunlap laughed and slurped as he rolled around in vast mountains of fresh-scented food as far as he could see. All the greasy, fattening foods were falling down around him, ranging from hamburgers to hot dogs and even onion rings slathered with chocolate. The Saint Bernard started to drool in his sleep too, just like all the other dogs. He flipped over onto his back, his tongue hanging out his mouth. Dunlap’s stomach moved up and down as he inhaled and exhaled. Then, suddenly, the small pudge gurgled and the fluids inside sloshed. Steve and the other dogs were feeling the same, grimacing and grunting as their bellies began to grumble and slosh beneath their T-shirts (or out in the open, for those who didn’t wear shirts).
There was a deep rumble, and then the pudge started to expand. A faint “FWOOMP” noise came from Steve’s bed as his stomach became distended. The gray wolf curled his toes as the top bunk he slept on creaked, trying to manage the wolf’s weight as he gained a few pounds. Even the Rottweiler, as muscular as he was, was starting to grow a small, plumper stomach beneath all his abs. The gurgling, shaking, rumbling, and FWOOMPs went on for a few minutes non-stop. And then the noises ceased, and the canines went back to snoring soundly.
Next morning still seemed the same, albeit everyone felt a bit thicker. The crew all got dressed, all headed out to go train once again, running laps around the base before doing push-ups, sit-ups, and practicing their close-quarter-combat skills with each other. The seven canines still sprinted and exercised to their hearts content, panting and sweating in the hot sun as they listened to jets and other war machines rumbling across the grounds, heading out to find the supposed secret weapon the enemies were carrying. Their commander deployed a different unit out for duty, which meant Steve and his team had most of the day off. They spent most of their time joking and fooling around, straightening up their beds and their room. The Rottweiler stood outside the barracks, leaning up against the wall as he struck his pack of cigarettes against his burly arm so one of the cigarettes would come out. He took the cigarette and placed it in his mouth, just in time for a bull terrier to walk outside panting.
“Hey, can I bum one of those?”
The Rottweiler blinked before he grumbled and handed the pack over to him. The bull terrier huffed before he took out a cigarette and stuck it inside his maw. He handed the pack over to the burly canine, shortly before he took out a lighter and lit both cigarettes.
“Thanks.”
The bull terrier sucked on the cigarette for a while before he removed it from his mouth and blew out a large cloud of smoke. The Rottweiler did the same, breathing in a large amount of nicotine and tobacco before he lowered his cigarette and released all the fumes. He tapped ash off the end of the cigarette before sniffling.
“Thought you didn’t smoke,” he suddenly stated.
The bull terrier giggled. “I don’t. But I woke up this morning and suddenly had the urge to put a fat cigar inside my mouth. Guess this’ll have to do.”
The Rottweiler sniffed. “You feel any different, Darwin?”
The bull terrier sucked on the cigarette again. “Different how?”
The Rottweiler heard his stomach grumbling before he rubbed his head. “Hungry. Constantly longing to eat food until my belly explodes or I start throwing up all over the place.”
Darwin snickered. “That’s what happens when your diet consists of protein shakes and granola bars! Ain’t no shame in winding down for a day—they serve gourmet food in the cafeteria all the time! May as well eat as much as we can now; never know what tomorrow brings!”
Darwin was about to say something else when his stomach growled audibly. “Damn. We’d better go eat now before my stomach devours itself! C’mon, Daitek.”
Daitek heard his stomach grumble again as Darwin walked away. The Rottweiler sucked on his cigarette some more before he walked inside the barracks, nearly drooling with hunger.
They ate anything they could get their paws on. The mess hall had it all: giant pizzas over two feet in diameter, cheeseburgers that used over a pound of beef per patty, steaks and ribs all smothered with sauce, chocolate cakes, ice cream filled with chocolate chips and cookie dough, fattening bacon, lasagna, different varieties of pastas, and much more. There were even optional courses for international soldiers or those who craved foreign food. Enchiladas, quesadillas, tacos and burritos, curry, dumplings, noodles and fresh white rice, spaghetti, rigatoni stuffed with meats and cheese, prosciutto and several different kinds of ravioli. Before, Steve and his team would only eat the simple foods so they wouldn’t spoil their diet or appetite. They wouldn’t consume more than some salads, a burger or two, and energy drinks or glasses of water. Now, their main goal was to devour anything they could get their paws on. None of them were aware of how much they were eating, of the giant mess they were making. They had growling stomachs that needed to be filled. Nothing else mattered to the canines other than that. When they sat down at the lunch table, they started to stuff their faces with anything and everything that smelled enticing.
Steve had the biggest platter, mainly consisting of red meats such as hamburgers. The dark gray wolf slobbered as he devoured the hamburgers three bites at a time without even choking or having trouble swallowing. While he was greedily eating the burgers, Dunlap was subjecting himself to a few bowls of curry and beans. He went back and forth, eating some curry, then beans, then curry again. Eventually he decided to dump the bowl of beans into the curry, and proceeded to eat the sloppy dish together. Daitek was busy eating anything pasta-related; he twirled his forks around the plates of spaghetti before switching over and munching on lots of lasagna, along with giant meatballs that barely fit in his paws and were stuffed with cheese. Darwin was having fun eating several sandwich wraps before he swapped over and started to eat the cheesy burritos and enchiladas. The dog didn’t care about how messy his mouth was—he only laughed and slurped as he enjoyed the scrumptious food. As the team ate and ate and ate, their bellies heaved and grumbled as the food flowed down their gullets and plopped into their distended stomachs. Their bellies would jiggle or rumble, gurgling as they bulged forward very slowly, almost to the point where no one could notice. Their trousers began to feel tighter, but that was normal after overeating, so a few soldiers reached down and unzipped their pants.
By the time they were through with their meal, they were plump and happy, glad that they finally had a day to themselves where they could laze around until they were deployed again. As they sat and digested, none of the soldiers seemed to notice that their bellies were still expanding, or that their bottoms were becoming wider. They continued about their day after lunch, exercising some more and playing basketball against a rival team of felines. They won, but not without getting lightheaded in the heat, and not without Darwin taking a break from the game and letting everyone know what half-digested Mexican food looked like scattered all over the ground. Darwin went to bed early, whereas the rest of the canines joined him later on after the sun set. Once again they were all dressed in light T-shirts and loose-fitting underwear. But tonight, the dogs seemed like they were in more discomfort. Steve was the first one to feel it: a tightness in his stomach. He opened his mouth and exhaled, licking his lips and drooling. The canine lied on his back, but the pudge started to move, expanding outwards so much that his T-shirt rose, revealing his belly-button. The Saint Bernard was squirming in his bed, lying on his stomach as his tail wagged. He slowly raised his fat bottom into the air, his buttocks pressed against the material of his boxers.
And then he let loose a fierce gust of wind that sputtered throughout the room. Dunlap exhaled as he lowered his bottom and relaxed, while Darwin’s eyes shot open and he began to scowl. The bull terrier plugged his nose and groaned before he buried his face into his pillow to avoid the stench of the dog’s flatulence. As Darwin lied still, he felt something building up in his stomach too and thought it was gas. The bull terrier grunted a few times and curled his toes, moments before his buttocks started to gurgle and expand outwards with an audible “FWOOMP” sound. While that was happening, the Rottweiler’s musclegut started to rumble and bulge outwards as well. His cheeks became chubbier, and his breasts started to gain more weight, expanding forward just like his stomach. The other three team members, one of which was an English Mastiff, was drooling and snorting, slobbering as he dreamt about smothering his face with pounds upon pounds of bacon drenched in hot chili. His mid-section began to expand, although it was mostly his waist as opposed to his belly. His thighs crunched and grumbled as they became chunkier, and his legs seemed to grow more muscle and fat.
The soldiers were all woken up early in the morning like always, before the sun even rose. Steve was the first one to get past his weariness and hop out of bed. But when he hopped, he heaved and grunted, almost falling down due to his tremendous weight. The gray wolf leaned against his bunk bed and raised an eyebrow when he looked down. His belly was fatter and pressed against his underwear. Steve curiously rubbed the pudge with a paw around the same time Darwin hopped out of bed. The terrier yawned and stretched, bending down so he could touch his toes. As he did, Dunlap woke up and started to chuckle.
“Damn! You got a fat ass, Darwin! You should lay off them burritos!”
Darwin scowled. “And you should lay off them baked beans. Your ass damn near suffocated us last night!”
A few dogs sniffed the air and noticed that it still lingered of Dunlap’s digestive tract. As one of them began to head over to open a window, he noticed that his stomach was a bit more corpulent than usual.
“What…uh, guys?”
“What is it, Wally?”
The other gray wolf in the group looked down at his gut and shook it a few times, causing it to gurgle. “I been putting on more weight lately?”
Darwin shrugged. “I think we all have. Apparently my ass is fatter, you and Steve have thicker guts, and I’ve noticed that Dustin over there is a bit wider ‘round his thighs…”
The English Mastiff was still drowsy from sleep, but his ears wiggled when he heard the terrier talking about him. “Shush…m’f not getting fat…”
Steve huffed. “We’ll worry about it later. Let’s just get dressed—something tells me that the commander won’t give us two days to relax in a row.”
The dark gray wolf was right. The second the canines got their stuff in order, they were deployed out into the deserts once again. The group came across another massive temple that they believed contained more clues about whatever mysterious weapon was being created by the enemy. The group of seven beasts all moved around the temple meticulously, looking this way and that as they crossed bridges hanging over spiked pits, catacombs that carried the stench of death, and even strange rooms with various ancient writings scribbled on the wall. Steve came across the writings and tried to analyze them closely, moving his paws against the hard stone as he began to interpret the drawings.
“What is it?” Dunlap asked.
“I don’t know…” Steve pointed to what appeared to be warriors only dressed in loincloths. “It…these creatures all traveled in groups towards this temple, but…”
Steve moved his paw across the wall which depicted the same warriors, but now all of them were horrifically obese, looking like plump blimps with tiny arms, chunky legs, and immense stomachs and rear ends.
“Something must’ve happened to ‘em. Over here, they can’t move. It looks like they were cursed with something that made them immobile and…” Steve pressed a paw against a carving of a closed temple door.
“I can’t really tell anymore. It looks like they tried to find some ancient treasure, but were cursed with a spell or disease that made them too fat to move. Then the temple’s doors closed, sealing them inside forever, where they starved to death.”
Darwin chuckled. “Ain’t that ironic! A curse makes you fat, then you end up dying from hunger?”
Daitek snorted and shook his head. “Forget about it. Let’s keep going—we need to find more clues about this weapon. Maybe it’s not here, but these drawings could lead us to the right temple.”
Steve walked away from the drawings and sighed. The Rottweiler was right; their mission was more important than some ancient curse that may or may not even be true. So the canines all resumed walking through the temple, eager to uncover whatever the enemy’s new weapon was. But as they walked, all the soldiers started to change again. Dustin blinked a few times and exhaled harshly, feeling his legs buckling. He heard a squishing crackling sound, almost like metal creaking. Darwin sniffed and shook his head, thinking he could smell food in the distance. Steve heard his stomach growling again and looked down. He thought it was all in his head, but he could see it plain as day. His rotund gut was bulging outwards once again, pressing against his armored suit so much that it began to creak. The black metal plates started to extend forward, making Steve more uncomfortable as he inflated right then and there. Dunlap’s cheeks started to bloat slightly, becoming chunky, whilst his buttocks jiggled and bulged outwards too. He reached backwards and grasped his fat bottom, surprised when he felt the thick ass cheeks colliding with his power armor. Daitek was behaving the same way that Darwin was, sniffing around the temple thinking a hefty sum of food was nearby.
“You guys smell that?”
“It’s just—” Steve grunted as his gut gurgled. “…It’s just the stale air, Darwin. Keep…keep going.”
Steve knew it was the stale air, yet he noticed the delicious aroma too. He was forcing himself to keep his mouth shut, to ignore all his temptations of the food he thought he smelled. He wanted to start breaking the walls down just to try and find the source of the enticing aroma. But he couldn’t. He and his team were on a special mission to find the enemies’ secret weapon. Wally heard his stomach grumbling as he followed his commander, whilst Daitek heard his armor creaking, ready to pop right off. The Rottweiler hissed seconds before everyone heard a loud CLANG that nearly made Darwin fire from his assault rifle with panic. All the canines turned and looked at the source of the noise, and the creatures were shocked to see Dunlap standing with his giant belly hanging out over the waistband of his trousers. The Saint Bernard looked at his giant pudge with wide eyes and blinked.
“Um…guys?”
No one could say anything else. They were all overcome with the strange stages of the transformation too. Steve couldn’t control his drooling. He was flaring his nostrils and moving his muzzle all around the temple, trying to find the food. Steve knew it was here somewhere—the enemy was hiding it. He didn’t seem to care that his foes could be using it at bait. All he understood was that his plump gut was empty, and it needed to be filled. And from what he could tell, his team needed the food as well. Daitek heard two more clangs in the distance and watched as Wally yelped. The armor around his legs had just popped off, exposing his pants and boots. The Rottweiler was surprised when he saw the lower half of the wolf’s body gradually become bloated. His mid-section seemed like it was slowly expanding outwards, the groin, belly and thighs gurgling and bloating as they filled with fat, muscles, flesh and fluids. Wally panted a few times and grunted as his legs started to become slightly thicker too, the limbs gurgling as they inflated with more fat and fluids. Not far off, Darwin was grunting and holding his stomach, listening to it grumble as it grew as he held it with his paws. The bull terrier watched with shock as the armor around his chest and belly began to creak and pop in multiple areas. And then there was a massive “FWOOMP!” and his armor was blasted off, cracking against the side of the temple.
The bull terrier felt his bottom growing too. He thought he had to void his bowels, but as the pain in his colon began to subside, he noticed that he felt a strange tingly sensation around his buttocks. The terrier grunted and reached behind to feel his rump, his eyes growing wide as he felt the flabs of fat and flesh growing, inflating like a balloon. He was only hoping that no one would let go of the balloon and let all the gas fly out. Darwin started to panic and reached down to fetch his armor. He had no idea how fat he was until he heard a vicious riiiiiiiiip, and then yelped as he felt a cool draft around his bottom.
“Hey, Darwin! I think your ass is winking at me!” laughed Dustin.
The terrier reached behind and immediately covered his fat ass as the English Mastiff laughed at him. When the dog bent over, his fat rump not only split his trousers in half, but even his underwear couldn’t handle the pressure. His boxers burst open right down the middle, revealing the terrier’s creamy white posterior and his tailhole. Darwin started blushing and panting as he tried to cover himself up while the Mastiff began to drool uncontrollably. Dustin smelled the same delicious foods as Steve and hurried over to his leader to go sniff it out. The wolf and Mastiff both panted and sniffed along the walls, trying to find the source of the nourishment. But the more and more they sniffed, the larger their bodies grew. It wasn’t just their bellies and asses that were growing—their footpaws were getting bigger too, fleshing themselves out to support the dogs’ new bodies. Their groins and thighs all dilated or bulged outwards, making it hard for them to fit their now tight pants. The dogs’ ears were filled with the various CLANGS of armor as they popped off and either bounced off the wall or landed on the floor. Steve found the source of the food: a giant doughnut stuck onto the temple wall. The wolf opened his mouth and licked the glaze off the doughy dessert.
And then frowned when he noticed he was licking a scorpion’s back. Steve yelped and jerked himself backwards, groaning with disgust as he stuck out his tongue. He wiped the nasty flavor off his tongue with his paws, glad that he moved before the scorpion stung him. Steve shook his head and blinked several times. He examined all the canines around him and saw them all either groaning, panting, sniffing or drooling as they gained more weight. The wolf sniffed the air. No food now, just the regular stale stench all the temples carried.
“A-all right, we’re done here! I’m scrappin’ this mission; we’re heading back to base!”
Dustin snorted and rubbed his nose. “But, sir! What about the food?!”
“There’s no food here—it’s all a trick! We have to leave now!”
A majority of the soldiers were less concerned about food and more concerned about their rapidly changing bodies. They all obeyed Steve’s command without question and started to “run” towards the temple exit. As the team leader ran, he glanced at the writing on the wall again and frowned. He thought he heard something evil laughing inside the temple, followed by strange whispering. The wolf shook his head and panted. They were just scribbles, he told himself. There’s no way this is happening to us. We’re just…gaining weight.
The seven dogs were all happy to be back at base once again. No strange temples, no odd smells in the air, no risk of being stuck inside a cave, forever sitting and relishing in their fatness as they starved to death. It was just them, their barracks, and the mess hall, which was filled with tons of food yet again. The second the dogs returned, they took off their power armor (that hadn’t already popped off) and changed into more comfortable clothing. Some of the commanders and other high-ranking soldiers noticed that Steve and his group were much bigger now. Their clothes couldn’t fit them; their rotund guts all stuck out, bulging over the waistband. Their belts all broke when they tried to put them on, and every dog dreaded the thought of having to bend over—especially Darwin. But now that the canines were inside the mess hall, they were overwhelmed with the vast amount of food that had been prepared. Dunlap wasn’t eating any beans or chili this time around, but he was having fun stuffing his face with various dumplings and pot stickers smothered in chili sauce. Steve and Darwin were both taking turns at eating chili dogs, with both canines trying to see who could eat the most before they gave up or got tired of the taste.
The canines both managed to down over twenty chili dogs before they decided to add sauerkraut and pickles to their chili dogs. And then they added mustard, ketchup, and relish on top of those pickles. The two dogs were still eating as Daitek and Wally both shared their meals. The Rottweiler was scarfing down an entire bag of wavy barbecue chips while Wally was busy devouring graham crackers and various cracker sandwiches that had cheese stuffed in the middle. He couldn’t contain his excitement when he ate the bacon-flavored crackers and squirted whipped cream all over them. Daitek swallowed hard before he grabbed one of the three slices of key lime pie sitting near his finished bowl of spaghetti and stuffed the entire slice into his mouth. The Rottweiler didn’t even chew on the pie; he let the sweet treat slide down his thick gullet, gulping hard before he grabbed another slice. Dustin and the last team member, a tall Great Dane named Darren, were both busy eating all the sweet desserts the chefs made for the soldiers. Darren was throwing dozens of macarons in his mouth, chewing on the crunchy sugar cookies with filling in them. Dustin was eating a chocolate cake with strawberry icing on it with his bare paws, mumbling and slurping as the chocolate got all over his face.
By the time the seven dogs were finished, they couldn’t fit their clothes anymore. All of them couldn’t even stand up without risking having their pants burst; they stayed seated for nearly two hours, waiting until the mess hall was mostly cleared before they left. As the dogs all moved, their thick guts wobbled, their fat asses bubbled, their midriffs pressed against their trousers, and their fat legs began to shake as more fat grew. Some of the dogs’ faces turned red when their pants began to tear all over—not just around the backside, but all over the groin and thigh region as well. Darwin couldn’t even make it to the barracks before his trousers were completely torn apart, revealing his big butt and groin to everyone outside. Even worse, when Darwin tried to retreat to his team’s room, his buttocks were stuck in the doorway. Steve had to forcefully push the canine through before the bull terrier collapsed onto his fat gut. The situation didn’t get any better as the day progressed—all the dogs were so stuffed that they decided they were better off staying in the barracks all day to let their food digest.
By the time everyone went to sleep, their fatness worsened. The dogs drifted between their subconscious and being fully awake, but even with their eyes open, Steve and his soldiers couldn’t comprehend reality. They didn’t see their bunk beds and the walls. They saw couches made of gelatin, beds made of cookies, buildings composed of potato chips, and mountains made of cream and chocolate. With each step the dogs took, something would ding—a microwave, an oven. Sometimes grills would materialize in front of them and open themselves up, revealing steaks. Other times the dogs saw cupcakes with legs and smiling faces hopping towards them, jumping into their mouths. Some dogs were giggling and staring at the ceiling with strange eyes, while creatures like Steve and Darren were drooling so much that a pool of saliva was forming on their mattresses. Daitek was mumbling and snorting as he grabbed his pillow and started to chew on it. Dunlap was grinning and grunting, licking his pillow as he thought he was stuffing his mouth full of beans. The Saint Bernard slurped and inhaled sharply, relaxing his body as he passed gas. The dog’s ear twitched as he heard a series of sputtering sounds. He laughed lazily in his sleep and sniffed the air, his flatulence smelling exactly like digested chili.
None of the other dogs seemed to notice. No one smelled anything rank or otherwise, despite all the times Dunlap farted in his sleep. The air was still filled with the delicious fragrance of hamburger patties fresh off the grill, sausages that had just been fried to a darkened brown, and enough desserts to make their teeth rot just by looking at it all. The canines were still oblivious to their changing bodies. Darwin and Dunlap weren’t aware of how blubbery their buttocks were, with each one fat enough to knock someone over. Steve, Daitek, and Dustin’s bellies were enormous and breaking through their shirts, causing them to rip. Their pudge gurgled and sloshed around as they turned and tossed on their mattresses. Wally and Darren were getting taller as they gained more weight, their footpaws and legs stretching outwards as their bodies extended. They slept on their bellies and slowly began to rise in the air, their bodies rocking on their large pudge as if they were sleeping on top of a beach ball. Their beds began to creak and snap, unable to support the canines’ large weight. But no one cared.
There was food all around them that needed to be devoured, even if it wasn’t real…
Everyone was shocked the next morning. Daitek woke up retching and regurgitating feathers, lint, and part of a pillow cover, one of the bunk beds broke, and almost everyone’s underwear had torn or ripped completely, showing off their bare assets. Darren found himself lying on the floor, drooling so much that a giant puddle of slobber was on the floor. Steve woke up screaming, panting as he tried to stand up properly. The wolf was about to shout when one of the bunk beds creaked and shattered. The entire contraption fell apart, the various slivers of wood, bed springs and feathers all flying up into the area to create a giant mess. The giant dog lying beneath it grunted as he shoved the upper half of the bed off his body, panting and hoping he didn’t get anything in his eyes.
“What the hell’s going on?!” shouted Steve.
Dunlap rolled out of bed, shouting when he plopped on his stomach. He groaned and stood up slowly, his plump rump and fat belly gurgling.
“Uh…we gained weight?”
“N-no! I mean, how did we get this fat?! It-it’s like we grew overnight!”
Darwin was trying to cover his groin, but with so much belly fat in front of him, he found it impossible to bend over and reach down in-between his legs. He couldn’t even see his crotch anymore.
“None of our clothes fit us anymore! How are we gonna go ‘round completely butt-naked?! What about our power armor?!”
Wally and Dustin couldn’t help but look at themselves in the mirror, flexing their meaty, muscular arms and turning around to look at their wobbly behinds.
“I dunno guys. I kinda like this! We finally have an excuse to laze around and do nothing but eat all day!” said Wally cheerfully.
“That’s not the point! Someone or something did…I-I don’t know! We must be infected with something—maybe this is the enemy’s doing!”
“Or maybe it’s a curse,” Dunlap chimed in. “You did see those writings on the wall yesterday. Maybe we…we stumbled across something? Angered a bunch of obese gods who were jealous that we dogs are much slimmer and muscular than the deities?”
“That makes no sense, Dunlap!” shouted Darwin. “Clearly the enemy did this—we must’ve been exposed to something in one of those temples!”
Everyone suddenly stopped talking. They knew by now that the how and why didn’t matter. All the dogs weighed over five hundred pounds, and it definitely showed. All their bellies were rotund, stretching and sagging far past their groins. They all had flabby, sweat moobs that were bigger than some of the women’s breasts on site. Their legs were thick as logs; their footpaws were excruciatingly big, no longer capable of fitting inside any type of boot; some of them started to acquire chubby cheeks or looked like they stuffed food inside their mouths; their groins and waists were wide and puffy, jutting outwards just like their bellies. And each ass cheek looked bloated enough to crush a watermelon or pumpkin—together they could break someone’s spine or neck if they sat on someone. The only parts of their bodies that hadn’t changed much were their arms, which were longer and muscular, but not weighed down by fat, and some of their faces, which still looked perfectly normal, despite the corpulent appearance. All the dogs looked at each other with stunned or worried faces, unsure of what the future would hold for them. They had to get rid of all this blubber, and fast.
“So what do we do now?” asked Dustin.
Steve stared at his team and blinked. “Work out?”
Trying to exercise outside when it was nearly one hundred degrees and when they weighed over a quarter of a ton went about as well as they thought it would go. The dogs started to sweat the second they stepped outside. They were already uncomfortable clad in either their stretchy, itchy jumpsuits or T-shirts and stretchy nylon shorts. But when they started to finally exert energy, the dogs thought they were about to die. Darwin and Dustin were taking turns trying to pull tires that weighed over a hundred pounds. But their fat, sadly, gave them no strength, and the dogs wound up breaking their ropes from pulling too hard. Steve and Darren were huffing as they jogged around the base outside, hoping to keep up with some of the more athletic individuals. But “jog” quickly turned into a very slow, sluggish limp. And pretty soon, both dogs had to stop so they could lean against a wall and pant. Dunlap was the only one who seemed to be enjoying himself. The obese Saint Bernard was playing basketball against several younger, skinnier dogs. Dunlap had lots of difficulty running, so he was forced to pant as he slowly waddled his way down the court.
Thankfully, his fatness was the perfect defense. Anytime someone got close, he spin around and bump his bountiful butt against someone, knocking them flat on their backs. Whenever someone managed to steal the ball from him, the obese dog would waddle up to them and bump his corpulent belly against them, knocking them down so fast a few players didn’t even get up. A half-hour into the game, and Dunlap noticed that everyone was on the ground groaning after being belly or butt-bumped several times. So Dunlap snickered to himself as he stood in the middle of the court shooting hoops, and he eventually won the game. Wally and Daitek were already aware that it was all a lost cause. They couldn’t do anything more to get rid of the fat from their bodies. They could, however, satisfy their nicotine urges. A “friend of a friend,” as Daitek put it, had smuggled tons of cigars into the base and led him to the shipment. Now equipped with a cigar case, the Rottweiler stood near the team’s barracks sucking on the fat, brown, tightly-rolled chunk of tobacco. Daitek closed his eyes as he sucked on the cigar for a long time, the tip of it turning red and burning.
Then the canine blew out a cloud of smoke from his nostrils and mouth, watching as the smog left his body and drifted up into the air. Wally was sucking on the cigar too, but seeing as how the wolf was more accustomed to cigarettes, he found himself coughing and spitting, taken aback by the powerful flavor and the amount of fumes that went into his body. The wolf shook his head and snorted, his nostrils burning. But the Rottweiler was in control, still sucking on his cigar periodically while also blowing out a hefty amount of smoke without choking on the fumes. The two canines stayed in the same spot smoking until Darwin decided to join in, knowing he needed a break after sweating throughout his jumpsuit. As the trio smoked, they smelled the fumes and started to lick their lips. Images of bacon sizzling and ribs being grilled and smothered with sauces started to flow into their minds. The trio knew it was time to head to the mess hall. So what if they were fat? So what if they craved nicotine? They needed to satisfy their primary urges, right? And one of them was hunger. So the trio started to head towards the mess hall when Dunlap, still panting and sweating, approached them all with a giant bag.
“Hey guys! Look what Renny gave me!”
The Saint Bernard held up a giant bag of gummy bears. Daitek blinked and shrugged.
“So you got some candy. What about it?”
“It’s not just ‘some’ candy. It’s sugar-free! Renny told me this is what he eats whenever he needs to shed a few pounds! Maybe we should all eat some—”
“No.”
“I’m good,” said Wally.
“They’re all yours buddy!” said Darwin.
Dunlap blinked. “You serious? These don’t even taste all that bad. It’s like they got real sugar in ‘em; I swear, it’s like eating regular gummy bears! And like I said, it’ll help us lose weight!”
Darwin grinned. “Oh, you’ll be losing weight all right…”
Steve and his team were in the mess hall yet again, although this time Dunlap wasn’t joining them. The six dogs had an entire table to themselves now; all the small stools and chairs for the regular lunchroom tables weren’t big enough to hold their massive bodies and large behinds. They didn’t feel like changing out of their attire either, so most of the soldiers in the mess hall steered clear of the sweaty dogs carrying a greasy, aromatic scent around them. Today the chef had prepared the dogs several sloppy meals, all rich in sauces and various kinds of meat. The Great Dane and Rottweiler were eating several sloppy joes at a time, inhaling them as they snatched one after another off the giant plates the meals were prepared on. Tomato sauce and the minced ground beef oozed out from in-between the hamburger buns, plopping onto their clothing and face. Steve and Wally were both chowing down on ribs that felt like they had been dipped in an entire bucket of barbecue sauce. The wolves hungrily ate the tender meat as it fell off the bone, licking their fingers and lips clean of all the sauce. Darwin and Dustin were swapping back and forth between eating buffalo wings and downing entire bottles of soda. Both dogs seemed to enjoy the stinging, burning sensation in their throat as they consumed soda after eating the hot foods.
The terrier and mastiff even stopped eating a few times to get into a belching contest, with both canines opening their mouths wide and letting out a monstrous burp. The other four dogs chuckled as they watched the brief spectacle, but their bellies began to grumble, and it wasn’t long before they resumed eating more food. The six dogs consumed all the delicious treats before they decided to go exercise again, although having so much food on their stomachs didn’t bode well for them. The dogs thought they’d start throwing up, but instead, they only became hungrier. As Steve did sit-ups in the basketball court, Dustin would hover over him with a Snickers bar. Everytime Steve lifted his head, he’d open his mouth and snatch the bar from Dustin’s fingers. Darwin and Wally, having some of the biggest bellies and asses on the team, invited a few other soldiers to watch as they sumo wrestled each other out in the desert. If one dog shoved the other outside of the ring, the winner was rewarded with a corn dog. If one dog managed to subdue and pin one to the ground, then he was rewarded with a chili dog. Eventually, both dogs won so many times that they ran out of food to offer the winners.
As evening came, the dogs realized, with much embarrassment, that using the bathroom was their biggest challenge. Since it was hard to grab their penises, some dogs just stood in front of a urinal, lowered their pants altogether, and hoped that their fluids didn’t hit the wall. Those who had more explosive emergencies found it hard to squeeze inside a tiny stall. And even inside, it was very hard for them to sit (or squat) over a toilet without breaking it. By the time their bowels and bladder were empty, the tired dogs figured it was time to get some rest again. So they all retreated to their bedroom in the barracks, where they found Dunlap lying on bed, groaning as he grasped his plump belly.
“What’s your problem? We haven’t seen you all day,” asked Darren.
Dunlap grunted and responded by farting, his anus burning and quickly heating up the room. The Saint Bernard exhaled and blinked twice.
“I…I ate the whole bag,” Dunlap whined.
“Whole bag of what?” asked Steve.
“Sugar-free gummy bears,” said Daitek.
Darwin chuckled to himself and plugged his nose when Dunlap farted again. Knowing they would be stuck with the flatulent dog all night, Steve waved a paw in front of his face, left the door open, and turned on the A/C to full blast. Dunlap shut his eyes as he rolled over and lied on his stomach.
“So…did it work?” asked Darwin.
Dunlap grunted. “Did what work?”
“You lose any weight?”
Dunlap looked at Darwin’s wide grin and scowled. “Fuck you, Darwin!”
And then Dunlap groaned as he passed more gas.
Their bodies seemed to have settled down. There was no belly gurgling, no asses growing to astronomical sizes, no widening footpaws or groins of fat. There was no noise inside the room beside the seven dogs snoring and the A/C blowing, along with the periodic fart from Dunlap’s behind. They all slept soundly that night, smiling or drooling, thinking about all the luscious foods that crept into their minds again. Dustin was sitting on top of a giant hill, watching as tiny warriors composed of food started to run up the hill carrying medieval weapons made of sweet nourishments. The mastiff grinned, bending down and scarfing them all whole one at a time. Dunlap and Darwin seemed to be sharing the same dream where the two dogs were lying in a giant pool of baked beans and chili. They were floating on their backs, the meaty, bean-filled sludge soaking into their fur. Meanwhile, Steve was busy writhing around in his sleep, having a terrible “nightmare” where he was tied to a chair and force-fed so much food that the wolf thought he was going to physically explode. Wally, Darren and Daitek were all sharing dreams as well, although they were all lounging around smoking their fat cigars one minute then spending the next being served food from several attractive felines. They were both mumbling and smiling in their beds, as peaceful as could be.
None of them could see the aging feline peering into the room, his gleaming yellow eyes illuminated in the darkness. They couldn’t see his wide, malicious grin either as the giant jaguar glared at the bloated beasts. The feline chuckled quietly to himself before he moved away from the dogs’ open door. Then he turned around and left, knowing he had plenty of more recruits.
Steve and his crew were understandably confused. They weren’t assigned to head out into the field anymore. No one issued them more power armor that could fit them, nor did they try to figure out how to get the seven beasts to lose their weight. Instead, all of them found themselves inside a large warehouse filled with various desks, computers, and massive chairs. Behind a series of double-doors was the main lifting division, where creatures stronger and more muscular than them were required to haul equipment and other machinery around with their giant bodies.
“I…I can’t believe this,” said Wally with disbelief.
“This is-this is all real? It’s no dream?” asked Daitek.
The jaguar commander smiled and shook his head. “No dream, Daitek. This division is indeed real. And it’s designed for creatures just like you!”
The seven canines started to walk around the giant warehouse, staring in awe at their surroundings and the way everyone was being catered. Darwin and Dunlap saw two foxes clad in jumpsuits sitting in massive computer chairs that were so wide they had three legs and two cushions on them. The chairs never squeaked or buckled down beneath the creatures’ obese weight either. As the foxes sat in front of the computer decoding software with one paw, they used the other to stuff their meaty paws into giant bags of chips, which they then shoveled into their mouths.
“You see, here in the POW Division, we take individuals with your…assets and put ‘em to better use! Decoding encrypted messages, hacking into the enemies’ mainframe and downloading crucial information, sketching out battle plans and blueprints, and even sitting at the desks answering phone calls or helping out with problems occurring right here on the base! It's all perfectly safe and normal—and we make sure to give you assets the most comfortable experience of all!”
Darren raised an eyebrow. “Wait, the POW Division?”
The jaguar nodded. “Pear Office Workers!”
Darren looked down at his pudgy belly bulging out over the waistband of his nylon shorts. “Fitting.”
The jaguar turned back around and guided them through the rest of the building. He showed them the various cooks who were moving back and forth between the kitchens, some walking in with orders, some coming out with massive trays of food. Dustin couldn’t help but lick his lips when he saw a chubby hyena walk out of the kitchen pushing a giant cart filled with greasy fried chicken, sloppy joes, SPAM already pushed from its container, and enough pecan pies to make a young cub lose all his teeth. The chef pushed the cart over towards a trio of lizards who were all sweating and drooling, their bodies clad in dark red jumpsuits, their stomachs big enough to smother someone. They grabbed the pies, sloppy joes, SPAM and chicken with their bare hands and ravenously began to scarf the food, some of them belching or slurping as they shoveled the unhealthy food into their faces. The other dogs began to notice all the food being prepared and moaned, their bellies visibly jiggling as they growled, waiting for more food. Daitek dug into his pocket and started to fish out a cigar, sticking the fat piece of tobacco into his mouth. The jaguar quickly removed the cigar from his mouth, causing the Rottweiler to growl.
“Ah! We don’t smoke in here, soldier. Doesn’t help any of the creatures with sinus issues or bad lungs,” the feline snapped.
Daitek huffed. “Had a feeling this was too good to be true.”
The jaguar grinned and wagged his tail, guiding the Rottweiler over towards a large blue door with a green cigarette as its logo. The jaguar pushed open the door, and Daitek was immediately blasted with smog.
“We smoke in here.”
Daitek grinned. Inside was a smaller section of the warehouse filled with beasts who were constantly typing on computers as they sucked on a long cigar or a small cigarette. Some of them never took their smoking instruments from their mouths—they used both hands or paws to type and released the smoke they inhaled through their nostrils. The Rottweiler’s eyes lit up as he heard several creatures exhaling smoke and listened to the ends of smoking instruments sizzling as they were set ablaze. Daitek snickered as he slowly stepped inside.
“I’ll, uh…I’ll be out in a moment,” said the large dog.
Daitek stepped inside and shut the door, leaving the other six dogs outside. The jaguar wagged his tail and grinned slowly as he stared at the canines.
“So what do you say, gentlemen? Would you like to join the POW Division?”
Steve chuckled. “Why wouldn’t we?”
It was better this way. They all knew that now. No risking their lives, no exerting their bodies, no putting on uncomfortable pieces of armor, and certainly no worrying about being stuck inside of a temple being forced to starve to death. Instead, they were all stuck inside a building most of the day, their fat asses glued to computer chairs. Working with the other POW soldiers was fairly easy—most of the other soldiers were friendly, and those that weren’t usually kept to themselves, smothering their faces with large quantities of food. All the canines were trained with computers shortly after graduating boot camp, so it didn’t take long for them to get adjusted to their new careers. Dunlap and Darwin spent most of their time hacking into the enemies’ mainframes, downloading loads of useful information with the time they had. Sometimes they’d even race each other to see who could decrypt the enemies’ software first, and the winner got to eat their choice of a dozen hot dogs while the loser could only eat a bag of bland pretzels. Darren spent most of his time in the lifting division, demonstrating his brute strength to the other plump dogs. He had no trouble lifting heavy crates by himself—sometimes he managed to lift giant barrels over his head. But after working in the division for a while, he earned the nickname “Rip-Ass” because he had a bad habit of splitting his trousers (sometimes his underwear too) right down the middle.
Daitek was happy where he was as well, stuck inside the smoky room, constantly sucking on his fat cigars. Even now the Rottweiler was leaning back in his chair, smiling as he watched his computer gradually break through an enemy base’s firewall. His friends couldn’t help but laugh; the program Daitek built was symbolized by a giant Pac-Man slowly eating his way through a wall. And when it broke through, it showed the Pac-Man hungrily chasing after dark blue ghosts and eating them all. Dustin was constantly multi-tasking, sitting in a fat computer chair surrounded by various desks. He’d spin ninety degrees and find himself organizing files and sending them to the right military commanders through e-mails. He’d spin another ninety and find himself hacking more firewalls. Spin another ninety, and the dog would answer a phone call (whenever it rang, anyway). And whenever the canine returned to his desk, he was greeted to a hot, steaming plate of food. Today it was spaghetti and meatballs, with two dozen cheese sticks on the side. The dog quickly grabbed a pawful of spaghetti and stuffed it all into his mouth, chewing so sloppily that some of the spaghetti was flying from his maw across the table. He swallowed hard before he grabbed a cheese stick and dipped it into marinara sauce, only to groan and roll his eyes when the phone rang.
Wally was currently busy guiding the new member around. The gray wolf was waddling his way around the giant room, trying to find the right computer for the obese new recruit to sit at.
“So, Sergeant Fox. Where you from?”
The light purple fox chuckled, his moobs and corpulent pudge jiggling. “You can just call me Dolby. And I transferred from the Canadian Forces Unit.”
“Really? Just wanted a change of scenery?”
Dolby shook his head. “Nah. As you can see, I’ve been packing a lotta pounds. After a while it gets pretty hard being in the field. Can’t run, harder to evade the enemy, get exhausted more easily. Not to mention you get…stuck more often.”
The purplish fox looked down at his cream-colored belly as it hung over the waistband of his trousers. He was wearing dark gray nylon shorts so he wouldn’t be constantly sweating, although with nothing else on, his blubbery fat and gigantic moobs hung low for everyone to see. Dolby grabbed his rolls of fat and patted them, wiggling them around slightly.
“I heard about this unit. Figured it’d be best I join, be part of a unit where I’m actually useful and not just that ‘fat fuck’ who eats all the food on base.”
Wally laughed. “Well, you’re in good paws, buddy! This is the perfect unit for you! You have all the air conditioning, food, and cigars that you want! All the doors are designed to fit us fat creatures too; we can even use the bathroom without having…issues. I swear trying to cram into one of those ordinary stalls is ridiculous.”
Dolby chuckled. “I hear ya. That seat over there looks fine.”
Dolby started to waddle his way towards the massive two-cushioned seat, only for Wally to grab his paw and quickly stop him.
“Erm, that seat’s behind Dunlap and Darwin.”
“So?”
“So they’ve spent all morning eating bean-enriched burritos and had a bucket of chili as a snack. Trust me; the last place you wanna sit is behind them.”
Dolby frowned. “Oh dear. Well, uh, that seat over there looks good.”
Dolby pointed over towards another computer chair and monitor near the front of the room. Wally nodded and patted the fox on his back, smiling as he guided him over to the computer station to teach him about his new job. Steve, being the leader of his team, decided it would be best to run comms for the other soldiers, making sure to give them proper surveillance and technical equipment before they were deployed. Right now the obese wolf was sitting on his big rump, clad in a purple shirt that couldn’t cover his belly and a pair of loose-fitting blue shorts. The wolf smacked loudly as he chewed on some nachos, the grease, cheese, and sloppy ground beef sliding down his chin.
“Okay,” said the wolf before gulping, “now head to the left. See anything?”
Steve grabbed another pawful of nachos and shoved them all into his mouth, crunching and smacking so loudly the team leader out on patrol was nearly deafened.
“God, could you crunch any louder Steve?”
“What? Can’t hear you,” he said with his mouth full.
Steve swallowed all the nachos with another big gulp before he picked up his container of soda. Steve sucked on the straw, slurping up large amounts of the sugary, fizzy beverage so fast that visible bulges could be seen moving down his throat. He put down the soda and belched, before wiping his mouth off and sighing.
“Status report.”
“We’re all fine, Steve. But there’s nothing here!”
“I thought your Intel said the weapon would be located in this temple?” asked another soldier out in the field.
Steve rubbed his chin and blinked. “Are you absolutely sure you found nothing there? No strange drawings, no weird machines that pump out strange toxins? Nothing?”
“That’s a negative, sir. Wait…huh…air smells kinda odd now.”
“Of course it does, Commander!” shouted another field soldier. “We got a skunk on our team! Did you spray yourself again, Hallis?”
“I didn’t!”
The leader of the unit sighed. “I’m scrappin’ this mission; there’s nothing here. If your Intel was right, Steve, then the enemy must’ve moved the weapon.”
The gray wolf huffed. “All right. Head back to base. I’m gonna talk to some of the other POWs, see if they found anything new.”
“Roger.”
Steve leaned back in his chair and sighed heavily. He scratched his head, trying to understand what just happened. He knew the information he downloaded was accurate. It had to be. Clearly there was something in all those temples. But the wolf didn’t know what it was. He rubbed his eyes before reaching forward and munching on more nachos. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe his fat fingers punched in the wrong numbers during the decoding process and he got the wrong location. Ah well, Steve thought. I’ll talk to the POWs later. …After I finish my nachos.
The jaguar who introduced Steve and his team to the POW Division snickered as he watched the other team exit the temple with a laptop. The spotted feline closed the device before he looked down at a long list of team commanders and all their soldiers’ ranks and names listed beneath them. Steve and his unit had been crossed out. The jaguar skimmed the list quickly before he found the name of the team commander who just exited another temple and crossed it out. Then the feline laughed deeply as he rolled up the list and hid it inside a filing cabinet.
“Won’t be long now. Just a dozen or so teams…and then this base will be completely neutered, filled with nothing but fat blobs who can’t even walk properly as its primary line of defense.”
The jaguar closed his eyes and laughed again, his dastardly plans gradually coming to fruition.
NOTE: This is actually a long-lost commission for
Steve Wolfe that I finished a few months ago. He said he wanted it posted on FA, and after repeatedly forgetting to post it, I finally got around to it. 
Dolby Vixen makes a guest appearance.“Clear.”
The group of canines all walked inside the temple after the leader signaled them to move. They could hear faint rumbling outside and watched as various rocks and bits of debris fell from the ceiling. One of the gray wolves sniffled and shook his head while the others waited for the rumbling to stop. After it did, the canines all walked through the temple’s secret entrance, ducking low to avoid the short doorway. Once the canines got inside, they turned on the flashlights on the ends of their assault rifles and started to look around. They stepped meticulously, making sure that their heavy black boots didn’t trigger any booby traps.
“So where is this so-called weapon?” asked one Saint Bernard.
The leader, a dark gray wolf with a white stomach who sported several battle scars, shrugged. “No idea. Heard it’s something that can immobilize the enemy. Considering we’re getting our asses handed to us, we could use it.”
The Saint Bernard grinned. “Chemical weapon, eh? Maybe a bunch of acid-spewing bombs?”
Another canine snorted and glared at the Saint Bernard. “Just be quiet and keep looking. And watch where you’re stepping! You trying to lose that footpaw?!”
The Saint Bernard was about to step down when he blinked and looked in front of him. A very thin, almost invisible tripwire was on the floor. The canine exhaled and stepped over the wire, shaking his head. The other six dogs started to aim their guns up and down, making sure that there weren’t any enemies or hostile traps lined up around the walls or ceiling. The air was musty and warm, with dust floating around the canines’ faces. The floor was covered with sand and gravel, and what appeared to be a few animal skulls with sand filled inside the bony mouths. The dark gray wolf rubbed his muzzle before he leaned against a wall. He immediately moved away, thinking he just heard a subtle click. The wolf growled and lowered his gun.
“Looks like we’re clear. There’s nothing here.”
“Indeed. Not even this stupid weapon Intel said would be located in this temple,” said the other gray wolf.
“This is the third location we’ve been to today! I’m starting to think it doesn’t even exist!” said the Saint Bernard.
“Shut it, Dunlap. If Commands wants us to search these temples, we search these temples. We’re bound to find something at some point.”
The dark gray wolf took off his helmet and sighed as he rubbed his head and scratched his ears. He was tempted to take off his black clothing—his dark pants and long-sleeved shirt was thick and itchy, and wearing all his body armor only slowed him down and made him feel heavier than he really was. Everyone else looked just like him: sweaty, hot dogs who wanted to return to the barracks so they could enjoy a hot meal and take a nap before they were deployed for some kind of late night mission. The gray wolf sniffed and put his helmet back on just before a heavy Rottweiler kicked a small pebble in frustration, irritated that they found nothing.
“Let’s face it, Steve: this is another dud. We might as well—”
The canines stopped talking when they heard a small whirring noise. Two canines pointed their rifles around the temple while others started to sniff the air.
“Hey, you guys smell that?” asked Dunlap.
Steve sniffed a few times and blinked. “Nothing out of the ordinary…air’s kinda humid and musty—all the temples we’ve been to smell like that.”
“But you don’t smell anything…odd?”
“Yeah, those sweat socks you keep laying beside your bed. That’s the only odd thing I’ve smelled in the last week!” said the other gray wolf.
Three of the canines giggled while Dunlap started to growl. Steve rubbed his nose and sighed heavily.
“I’m scrappin’ the mission. Let’s head back to base everyone—we’ll see what the commanders have to say tomorrow.”
The Rottweiler shrugged. “You’re the boss, Steve.”
“Yeah, let’s go,” said the gray wolf.
The other dogs followed their leader out of the temple with no complaints, although Dunlap was still cautious, sniffing the air and frowning as he detected something strange hovering in the air. Steve turned around and gestured for him to follow the group outside, at which point the dog ignored the scent and walked out. None of the creatures inspected the temple as thoroughly as they should have though. If they had, they would’ve seen a tiny device that had risen from the sandy floor with holes along the side. The tiny device whirred again and disappeared into the earth, and the creature controlling the mechanism grinned to himself, knowing his plan was bound to work.
The team of seven canines were all sleeping in their beds, either snoring, mumbling, or drooling in their sleep. Even Dunlap, despite his suspicions in the temple, managed fall asleep faster than anyone else, his belly stuffed with delicious fried meats and cheesy eggs. The Saint Bernard didn’t think about the battles and special missions he and his team were going on. All that mattered to him were the mouth-watering images floating around in his head. Dunlap laughed and slurped as he rolled around in vast mountains of fresh-scented food as far as he could see. All the greasy, fattening foods were falling down around him, ranging from hamburgers to hot dogs and even onion rings slathered with chocolate. The Saint Bernard started to drool in his sleep too, just like all the other dogs. He flipped over onto his back, his tongue hanging out his mouth. Dunlap’s stomach moved up and down as he inhaled and exhaled. Then, suddenly, the small pudge gurgled and the fluids inside sloshed. Steve and the other dogs were feeling the same, grimacing and grunting as their bellies began to grumble and slosh beneath their T-shirts (or out in the open, for those who didn’t wear shirts).
There was a deep rumble, and then the pudge started to expand. A faint “FWOOMP” noise came from Steve’s bed as his stomach became distended. The gray wolf curled his toes as the top bunk he slept on creaked, trying to manage the wolf’s weight as he gained a few pounds. Even the Rottweiler, as muscular as he was, was starting to grow a small, plumper stomach beneath all his abs. The gurgling, shaking, rumbling, and FWOOMPs went on for a few minutes non-stop. And then the noises ceased, and the canines went back to snoring soundly.
Next morning still seemed the same, albeit everyone felt a bit thicker. The crew all got dressed, all headed out to go train once again, running laps around the base before doing push-ups, sit-ups, and practicing their close-quarter-combat skills with each other. The seven canines still sprinted and exercised to their hearts content, panting and sweating in the hot sun as they listened to jets and other war machines rumbling across the grounds, heading out to find the supposed secret weapon the enemies were carrying. Their commander deployed a different unit out for duty, which meant Steve and his team had most of the day off. They spent most of their time joking and fooling around, straightening up their beds and their room. The Rottweiler stood outside the barracks, leaning up against the wall as he struck his pack of cigarettes against his burly arm so one of the cigarettes would come out. He took the cigarette and placed it in his mouth, just in time for a bull terrier to walk outside panting.
“Hey, can I bum one of those?”
The Rottweiler blinked before he grumbled and handed the pack over to him. The bull terrier huffed before he took out a cigarette and stuck it inside his maw. He handed the pack over to the burly canine, shortly before he took out a lighter and lit both cigarettes.
“Thanks.”
The bull terrier sucked on the cigarette for a while before he removed it from his mouth and blew out a large cloud of smoke. The Rottweiler did the same, breathing in a large amount of nicotine and tobacco before he lowered his cigarette and released all the fumes. He tapped ash off the end of the cigarette before sniffling.
“Thought you didn’t smoke,” he suddenly stated.
The bull terrier giggled. “I don’t. But I woke up this morning and suddenly had the urge to put a fat cigar inside my mouth. Guess this’ll have to do.”
The Rottweiler sniffed. “You feel any different, Darwin?”
The bull terrier sucked on the cigarette again. “Different how?”
The Rottweiler heard his stomach grumbling before he rubbed his head. “Hungry. Constantly longing to eat food until my belly explodes or I start throwing up all over the place.”
Darwin snickered. “That’s what happens when your diet consists of protein shakes and granola bars! Ain’t no shame in winding down for a day—they serve gourmet food in the cafeteria all the time! May as well eat as much as we can now; never know what tomorrow brings!”
Darwin was about to say something else when his stomach growled audibly. “Damn. We’d better go eat now before my stomach devours itself! C’mon, Daitek.”
Daitek heard his stomach grumble again as Darwin walked away. The Rottweiler sucked on his cigarette some more before he walked inside the barracks, nearly drooling with hunger.
They ate anything they could get their paws on. The mess hall had it all: giant pizzas over two feet in diameter, cheeseburgers that used over a pound of beef per patty, steaks and ribs all smothered with sauce, chocolate cakes, ice cream filled with chocolate chips and cookie dough, fattening bacon, lasagna, different varieties of pastas, and much more. There were even optional courses for international soldiers or those who craved foreign food. Enchiladas, quesadillas, tacos and burritos, curry, dumplings, noodles and fresh white rice, spaghetti, rigatoni stuffed with meats and cheese, prosciutto and several different kinds of ravioli. Before, Steve and his team would only eat the simple foods so they wouldn’t spoil their diet or appetite. They wouldn’t consume more than some salads, a burger or two, and energy drinks or glasses of water. Now, their main goal was to devour anything they could get their paws on. None of them were aware of how much they were eating, of the giant mess they were making. They had growling stomachs that needed to be filled. Nothing else mattered to the canines other than that. When they sat down at the lunch table, they started to stuff their faces with anything and everything that smelled enticing.
Steve had the biggest platter, mainly consisting of red meats such as hamburgers. The dark gray wolf slobbered as he devoured the hamburgers three bites at a time without even choking or having trouble swallowing. While he was greedily eating the burgers, Dunlap was subjecting himself to a few bowls of curry and beans. He went back and forth, eating some curry, then beans, then curry again. Eventually he decided to dump the bowl of beans into the curry, and proceeded to eat the sloppy dish together. Daitek was busy eating anything pasta-related; he twirled his forks around the plates of spaghetti before switching over and munching on lots of lasagna, along with giant meatballs that barely fit in his paws and were stuffed with cheese. Darwin was having fun eating several sandwich wraps before he swapped over and started to eat the cheesy burritos and enchiladas. The dog didn’t care about how messy his mouth was—he only laughed and slurped as he enjoyed the scrumptious food. As the team ate and ate and ate, their bellies heaved and grumbled as the food flowed down their gullets and plopped into their distended stomachs. Their bellies would jiggle or rumble, gurgling as they bulged forward very slowly, almost to the point where no one could notice. Their trousers began to feel tighter, but that was normal after overeating, so a few soldiers reached down and unzipped their pants.
By the time they were through with their meal, they were plump and happy, glad that they finally had a day to themselves where they could laze around until they were deployed again. As they sat and digested, none of the soldiers seemed to notice that their bellies were still expanding, or that their bottoms were becoming wider. They continued about their day after lunch, exercising some more and playing basketball against a rival team of felines. They won, but not without getting lightheaded in the heat, and not without Darwin taking a break from the game and letting everyone know what half-digested Mexican food looked like scattered all over the ground. Darwin went to bed early, whereas the rest of the canines joined him later on after the sun set. Once again they were all dressed in light T-shirts and loose-fitting underwear. But tonight, the dogs seemed like they were in more discomfort. Steve was the first one to feel it: a tightness in his stomach. He opened his mouth and exhaled, licking his lips and drooling. The canine lied on his back, but the pudge started to move, expanding outwards so much that his T-shirt rose, revealing his belly-button. The Saint Bernard was squirming in his bed, lying on his stomach as his tail wagged. He slowly raised his fat bottom into the air, his buttocks pressed against the material of his boxers.
And then he let loose a fierce gust of wind that sputtered throughout the room. Dunlap exhaled as he lowered his bottom and relaxed, while Darwin’s eyes shot open and he began to scowl. The bull terrier plugged his nose and groaned before he buried his face into his pillow to avoid the stench of the dog’s flatulence. As Darwin lied still, he felt something building up in his stomach too and thought it was gas. The bull terrier grunted a few times and curled his toes, moments before his buttocks started to gurgle and expand outwards with an audible “FWOOMP” sound. While that was happening, the Rottweiler’s musclegut started to rumble and bulge outwards as well. His cheeks became chubbier, and his breasts started to gain more weight, expanding forward just like his stomach. The other three team members, one of which was an English Mastiff, was drooling and snorting, slobbering as he dreamt about smothering his face with pounds upon pounds of bacon drenched in hot chili. His mid-section began to expand, although it was mostly his waist as opposed to his belly. His thighs crunched and grumbled as they became chunkier, and his legs seemed to grow more muscle and fat.
The soldiers were all woken up early in the morning like always, before the sun even rose. Steve was the first one to get past his weariness and hop out of bed. But when he hopped, he heaved and grunted, almost falling down due to his tremendous weight. The gray wolf leaned against his bunk bed and raised an eyebrow when he looked down. His belly was fatter and pressed against his underwear. Steve curiously rubbed the pudge with a paw around the same time Darwin hopped out of bed. The terrier yawned and stretched, bending down so he could touch his toes. As he did, Dunlap woke up and started to chuckle.
“Damn! You got a fat ass, Darwin! You should lay off them burritos!”
Darwin scowled. “And you should lay off them baked beans. Your ass damn near suffocated us last night!”
A few dogs sniffed the air and noticed that it still lingered of Dunlap’s digestive tract. As one of them began to head over to open a window, he noticed that his stomach was a bit more corpulent than usual.
“What…uh, guys?”
“What is it, Wally?”
The other gray wolf in the group looked down at his gut and shook it a few times, causing it to gurgle. “I been putting on more weight lately?”
Darwin shrugged. “I think we all have. Apparently my ass is fatter, you and Steve have thicker guts, and I’ve noticed that Dustin over there is a bit wider ‘round his thighs…”
The English Mastiff was still drowsy from sleep, but his ears wiggled when he heard the terrier talking about him. “Shush…m’f not getting fat…”
Steve huffed. “We’ll worry about it later. Let’s just get dressed—something tells me that the commander won’t give us two days to relax in a row.”
The dark gray wolf was right. The second the canines got their stuff in order, they were deployed out into the deserts once again. The group came across another massive temple that they believed contained more clues about whatever mysterious weapon was being created by the enemy. The group of seven beasts all moved around the temple meticulously, looking this way and that as they crossed bridges hanging over spiked pits, catacombs that carried the stench of death, and even strange rooms with various ancient writings scribbled on the wall. Steve came across the writings and tried to analyze them closely, moving his paws against the hard stone as he began to interpret the drawings.
“What is it?” Dunlap asked.
“I don’t know…” Steve pointed to what appeared to be warriors only dressed in loincloths. “It…these creatures all traveled in groups towards this temple, but…”
Steve moved his paw across the wall which depicted the same warriors, but now all of them were horrifically obese, looking like plump blimps with tiny arms, chunky legs, and immense stomachs and rear ends.
“Something must’ve happened to ‘em. Over here, they can’t move. It looks like they were cursed with something that made them immobile and…” Steve pressed a paw against a carving of a closed temple door.
“I can’t really tell anymore. It looks like they tried to find some ancient treasure, but were cursed with a spell or disease that made them too fat to move. Then the temple’s doors closed, sealing them inside forever, where they starved to death.”
Darwin chuckled. “Ain’t that ironic! A curse makes you fat, then you end up dying from hunger?”
Daitek snorted and shook his head. “Forget about it. Let’s keep going—we need to find more clues about this weapon. Maybe it’s not here, but these drawings could lead us to the right temple.”
Steve walked away from the drawings and sighed. The Rottweiler was right; their mission was more important than some ancient curse that may or may not even be true. So the canines all resumed walking through the temple, eager to uncover whatever the enemy’s new weapon was. But as they walked, all the soldiers started to change again. Dustin blinked a few times and exhaled harshly, feeling his legs buckling. He heard a squishing crackling sound, almost like metal creaking. Darwin sniffed and shook his head, thinking he could smell food in the distance. Steve heard his stomach growling again and looked down. He thought it was all in his head, but he could see it plain as day. His rotund gut was bulging outwards once again, pressing against his armored suit so much that it began to creak. The black metal plates started to extend forward, making Steve more uncomfortable as he inflated right then and there. Dunlap’s cheeks started to bloat slightly, becoming chunky, whilst his buttocks jiggled and bulged outwards too. He reached backwards and grasped his fat bottom, surprised when he felt the thick ass cheeks colliding with his power armor. Daitek was behaving the same way that Darwin was, sniffing around the temple thinking a hefty sum of food was nearby.
“You guys smell that?”
“It’s just—” Steve grunted as his gut gurgled. “…It’s just the stale air, Darwin. Keep…keep going.”
Steve knew it was the stale air, yet he noticed the delicious aroma too. He was forcing himself to keep his mouth shut, to ignore all his temptations of the food he thought he smelled. He wanted to start breaking the walls down just to try and find the source of the enticing aroma. But he couldn’t. He and his team were on a special mission to find the enemies’ secret weapon. Wally heard his stomach grumbling as he followed his commander, whilst Daitek heard his armor creaking, ready to pop right off. The Rottweiler hissed seconds before everyone heard a loud CLANG that nearly made Darwin fire from his assault rifle with panic. All the canines turned and looked at the source of the noise, and the creatures were shocked to see Dunlap standing with his giant belly hanging out over the waistband of his trousers. The Saint Bernard looked at his giant pudge with wide eyes and blinked.
“Um…guys?”
No one could say anything else. They were all overcome with the strange stages of the transformation too. Steve couldn’t control his drooling. He was flaring his nostrils and moving his muzzle all around the temple, trying to find the food. Steve knew it was here somewhere—the enemy was hiding it. He didn’t seem to care that his foes could be using it at bait. All he understood was that his plump gut was empty, and it needed to be filled. And from what he could tell, his team needed the food as well. Daitek heard two more clangs in the distance and watched as Wally yelped. The armor around his legs had just popped off, exposing his pants and boots. The Rottweiler was surprised when he saw the lower half of the wolf’s body gradually become bloated. His mid-section seemed like it was slowly expanding outwards, the groin, belly and thighs gurgling and bloating as they filled with fat, muscles, flesh and fluids. Wally panted a few times and grunted as his legs started to become slightly thicker too, the limbs gurgling as they inflated with more fat and fluids. Not far off, Darwin was grunting and holding his stomach, listening to it grumble as it grew as he held it with his paws. The bull terrier watched with shock as the armor around his chest and belly began to creak and pop in multiple areas. And then there was a massive “FWOOMP!” and his armor was blasted off, cracking against the side of the temple.
The bull terrier felt his bottom growing too. He thought he had to void his bowels, but as the pain in his colon began to subside, he noticed that he felt a strange tingly sensation around his buttocks. The terrier grunted and reached behind to feel his rump, his eyes growing wide as he felt the flabs of fat and flesh growing, inflating like a balloon. He was only hoping that no one would let go of the balloon and let all the gas fly out. Darwin started to panic and reached down to fetch his armor. He had no idea how fat he was until he heard a vicious riiiiiiiiip, and then yelped as he felt a cool draft around his bottom.
“Hey, Darwin! I think your ass is winking at me!” laughed Dustin.
The terrier reached behind and immediately covered his fat ass as the English Mastiff laughed at him. When the dog bent over, his fat rump not only split his trousers in half, but even his underwear couldn’t handle the pressure. His boxers burst open right down the middle, revealing the terrier’s creamy white posterior and his tailhole. Darwin started blushing and panting as he tried to cover himself up while the Mastiff began to drool uncontrollably. Dustin smelled the same delicious foods as Steve and hurried over to his leader to go sniff it out. The wolf and Mastiff both panted and sniffed along the walls, trying to find the source of the nourishment. But the more and more they sniffed, the larger their bodies grew. It wasn’t just their bellies and asses that were growing—their footpaws were getting bigger too, fleshing themselves out to support the dogs’ new bodies. Their groins and thighs all dilated or bulged outwards, making it hard for them to fit their now tight pants. The dogs’ ears were filled with the various CLANGS of armor as they popped off and either bounced off the wall or landed on the floor. Steve found the source of the food: a giant doughnut stuck onto the temple wall. The wolf opened his mouth and licked the glaze off the doughy dessert.
And then frowned when he noticed he was licking a scorpion’s back. Steve yelped and jerked himself backwards, groaning with disgust as he stuck out his tongue. He wiped the nasty flavor off his tongue with his paws, glad that he moved before the scorpion stung him. Steve shook his head and blinked several times. He examined all the canines around him and saw them all either groaning, panting, sniffing or drooling as they gained more weight. The wolf sniffed the air. No food now, just the regular stale stench all the temples carried.
“A-all right, we’re done here! I’m scrappin’ this mission; we’re heading back to base!”
Dustin snorted and rubbed his nose. “But, sir! What about the food?!”
“There’s no food here—it’s all a trick! We have to leave now!”
A majority of the soldiers were less concerned about food and more concerned about their rapidly changing bodies. They all obeyed Steve’s command without question and started to “run” towards the temple exit. As the team leader ran, he glanced at the writing on the wall again and frowned. He thought he heard something evil laughing inside the temple, followed by strange whispering. The wolf shook his head and panted. They were just scribbles, he told himself. There’s no way this is happening to us. We’re just…gaining weight.
The seven dogs were all happy to be back at base once again. No strange temples, no odd smells in the air, no risk of being stuck inside a cave, forever sitting and relishing in their fatness as they starved to death. It was just them, their barracks, and the mess hall, which was filled with tons of food yet again. The second the dogs returned, they took off their power armor (that hadn’t already popped off) and changed into more comfortable clothing. Some of the commanders and other high-ranking soldiers noticed that Steve and his group were much bigger now. Their clothes couldn’t fit them; their rotund guts all stuck out, bulging over the waistband. Their belts all broke when they tried to put them on, and every dog dreaded the thought of having to bend over—especially Darwin. But now that the canines were inside the mess hall, they were overwhelmed with the vast amount of food that had been prepared. Dunlap wasn’t eating any beans or chili this time around, but he was having fun stuffing his face with various dumplings and pot stickers smothered in chili sauce. Steve and Darwin were both taking turns at eating chili dogs, with both canines trying to see who could eat the most before they gave up or got tired of the taste.
The canines both managed to down over twenty chili dogs before they decided to add sauerkraut and pickles to their chili dogs. And then they added mustard, ketchup, and relish on top of those pickles. The two dogs were still eating as Daitek and Wally both shared their meals. The Rottweiler was scarfing down an entire bag of wavy barbecue chips while Wally was busy devouring graham crackers and various cracker sandwiches that had cheese stuffed in the middle. He couldn’t contain his excitement when he ate the bacon-flavored crackers and squirted whipped cream all over them. Daitek swallowed hard before he grabbed one of the three slices of key lime pie sitting near his finished bowl of spaghetti and stuffed the entire slice into his mouth. The Rottweiler didn’t even chew on the pie; he let the sweet treat slide down his thick gullet, gulping hard before he grabbed another slice. Dustin and the last team member, a tall Great Dane named Darren, were both busy eating all the sweet desserts the chefs made for the soldiers. Darren was throwing dozens of macarons in his mouth, chewing on the crunchy sugar cookies with filling in them. Dustin was eating a chocolate cake with strawberry icing on it with his bare paws, mumbling and slurping as the chocolate got all over his face.
By the time the seven dogs were finished, they couldn’t fit their clothes anymore. All of them couldn’t even stand up without risking having their pants burst; they stayed seated for nearly two hours, waiting until the mess hall was mostly cleared before they left. As the dogs all moved, their thick guts wobbled, their fat asses bubbled, their midriffs pressed against their trousers, and their fat legs began to shake as more fat grew. Some of the dogs’ faces turned red when their pants began to tear all over—not just around the backside, but all over the groin and thigh region as well. Darwin couldn’t even make it to the barracks before his trousers were completely torn apart, revealing his big butt and groin to everyone outside. Even worse, when Darwin tried to retreat to his team’s room, his buttocks were stuck in the doorway. Steve had to forcefully push the canine through before the bull terrier collapsed onto his fat gut. The situation didn’t get any better as the day progressed—all the dogs were so stuffed that they decided they were better off staying in the barracks all day to let their food digest.
By the time everyone went to sleep, their fatness worsened. The dogs drifted between their subconscious and being fully awake, but even with their eyes open, Steve and his soldiers couldn’t comprehend reality. They didn’t see their bunk beds and the walls. They saw couches made of gelatin, beds made of cookies, buildings composed of potato chips, and mountains made of cream and chocolate. With each step the dogs took, something would ding—a microwave, an oven. Sometimes grills would materialize in front of them and open themselves up, revealing steaks. Other times the dogs saw cupcakes with legs and smiling faces hopping towards them, jumping into their mouths. Some dogs were giggling and staring at the ceiling with strange eyes, while creatures like Steve and Darren were drooling so much that a pool of saliva was forming on their mattresses. Daitek was mumbling and snorting as he grabbed his pillow and started to chew on it. Dunlap was grinning and grunting, licking his pillow as he thought he was stuffing his mouth full of beans. The Saint Bernard slurped and inhaled sharply, relaxing his body as he passed gas. The dog’s ear twitched as he heard a series of sputtering sounds. He laughed lazily in his sleep and sniffed the air, his flatulence smelling exactly like digested chili.
None of the other dogs seemed to notice. No one smelled anything rank or otherwise, despite all the times Dunlap farted in his sleep. The air was still filled with the delicious fragrance of hamburger patties fresh off the grill, sausages that had just been fried to a darkened brown, and enough desserts to make their teeth rot just by looking at it all. The canines were still oblivious to their changing bodies. Darwin and Dunlap weren’t aware of how blubbery their buttocks were, with each one fat enough to knock someone over. Steve, Daitek, and Dustin’s bellies were enormous and breaking through their shirts, causing them to rip. Their pudge gurgled and sloshed around as they turned and tossed on their mattresses. Wally and Darren were getting taller as they gained more weight, their footpaws and legs stretching outwards as their bodies extended. They slept on their bellies and slowly began to rise in the air, their bodies rocking on their large pudge as if they were sleeping on top of a beach ball. Their beds began to creak and snap, unable to support the canines’ large weight. But no one cared.
There was food all around them that needed to be devoured, even if it wasn’t real…
Everyone was shocked the next morning. Daitek woke up retching and regurgitating feathers, lint, and part of a pillow cover, one of the bunk beds broke, and almost everyone’s underwear had torn or ripped completely, showing off their bare assets. Darren found himself lying on the floor, drooling so much that a giant puddle of slobber was on the floor. Steve woke up screaming, panting as he tried to stand up properly. The wolf was about to shout when one of the bunk beds creaked and shattered. The entire contraption fell apart, the various slivers of wood, bed springs and feathers all flying up into the area to create a giant mess. The giant dog lying beneath it grunted as he shoved the upper half of the bed off his body, panting and hoping he didn’t get anything in his eyes.
“What the hell’s going on?!” shouted Steve.
Dunlap rolled out of bed, shouting when he plopped on his stomach. He groaned and stood up slowly, his plump rump and fat belly gurgling.
“Uh…we gained weight?”
“N-no! I mean, how did we get this fat?! It-it’s like we grew overnight!”
Darwin was trying to cover his groin, but with so much belly fat in front of him, he found it impossible to bend over and reach down in-between his legs. He couldn’t even see his crotch anymore.
“None of our clothes fit us anymore! How are we gonna go ‘round completely butt-naked?! What about our power armor?!”
Wally and Dustin couldn’t help but look at themselves in the mirror, flexing their meaty, muscular arms and turning around to look at their wobbly behinds.
“I dunno guys. I kinda like this! We finally have an excuse to laze around and do nothing but eat all day!” said Wally cheerfully.
“That’s not the point! Someone or something did…I-I don’t know! We must be infected with something—maybe this is the enemy’s doing!”
“Or maybe it’s a curse,” Dunlap chimed in. “You did see those writings on the wall yesterday. Maybe we…we stumbled across something? Angered a bunch of obese gods who were jealous that we dogs are much slimmer and muscular than the deities?”
“That makes no sense, Dunlap!” shouted Darwin. “Clearly the enemy did this—we must’ve been exposed to something in one of those temples!”
Everyone suddenly stopped talking. They knew by now that the how and why didn’t matter. All the dogs weighed over five hundred pounds, and it definitely showed. All their bellies were rotund, stretching and sagging far past their groins. They all had flabby, sweat moobs that were bigger than some of the women’s breasts on site. Their legs were thick as logs; their footpaws were excruciatingly big, no longer capable of fitting inside any type of boot; some of them started to acquire chubby cheeks or looked like they stuffed food inside their mouths; their groins and waists were wide and puffy, jutting outwards just like their bellies. And each ass cheek looked bloated enough to crush a watermelon or pumpkin—together they could break someone’s spine or neck if they sat on someone. The only parts of their bodies that hadn’t changed much were their arms, which were longer and muscular, but not weighed down by fat, and some of their faces, which still looked perfectly normal, despite the corpulent appearance. All the dogs looked at each other with stunned or worried faces, unsure of what the future would hold for them. They had to get rid of all this blubber, and fast.
“So what do we do now?” asked Dustin.
Steve stared at his team and blinked. “Work out?”
Trying to exercise outside when it was nearly one hundred degrees and when they weighed over a quarter of a ton went about as well as they thought it would go. The dogs started to sweat the second they stepped outside. They were already uncomfortable clad in either their stretchy, itchy jumpsuits or T-shirts and stretchy nylon shorts. But when they started to finally exert energy, the dogs thought they were about to die. Darwin and Dustin were taking turns trying to pull tires that weighed over a hundred pounds. But their fat, sadly, gave them no strength, and the dogs wound up breaking their ropes from pulling too hard. Steve and Darren were huffing as they jogged around the base outside, hoping to keep up with some of the more athletic individuals. But “jog” quickly turned into a very slow, sluggish limp. And pretty soon, both dogs had to stop so they could lean against a wall and pant. Dunlap was the only one who seemed to be enjoying himself. The obese Saint Bernard was playing basketball against several younger, skinnier dogs. Dunlap had lots of difficulty running, so he was forced to pant as he slowly waddled his way down the court.
Thankfully, his fatness was the perfect defense. Anytime someone got close, he spin around and bump his bountiful butt against someone, knocking them flat on their backs. Whenever someone managed to steal the ball from him, the obese dog would waddle up to them and bump his corpulent belly against them, knocking them down so fast a few players didn’t even get up. A half-hour into the game, and Dunlap noticed that everyone was on the ground groaning after being belly or butt-bumped several times. So Dunlap snickered to himself as he stood in the middle of the court shooting hoops, and he eventually won the game. Wally and Daitek were already aware that it was all a lost cause. They couldn’t do anything more to get rid of the fat from their bodies. They could, however, satisfy their nicotine urges. A “friend of a friend,” as Daitek put it, had smuggled tons of cigars into the base and led him to the shipment. Now equipped with a cigar case, the Rottweiler stood near the team’s barracks sucking on the fat, brown, tightly-rolled chunk of tobacco. Daitek closed his eyes as he sucked on the cigar for a long time, the tip of it turning red and burning.
Then the canine blew out a cloud of smoke from his nostrils and mouth, watching as the smog left his body and drifted up into the air. Wally was sucking on the cigar too, but seeing as how the wolf was more accustomed to cigarettes, he found himself coughing and spitting, taken aback by the powerful flavor and the amount of fumes that went into his body. The wolf shook his head and snorted, his nostrils burning. But the Rottweiler was in control, still sucking on his cigar periodically while also blowing out a hefty amount of smoke without choking on the fumes. The two canines stayed in the same spot smoking until Darwin decided to join in, knowing he needed a break after sweating throughout his jumpsuit. As the trio smoked, they smelled the fumes and started to lick their lips. Images of bacon sizzling and ribs being grilled and smothered with sauces started to flow into their minds. The trio knew it was time to head to the mess hall. So what if they were fat? So what if they craved nicotine? They needed to satisfy their primary urges, right? And one of them was hunger. So the trio started to head towards the mess hall when Dunlap, still panting and sweating, approached them all with a giant bag.
“Hey guys! Look what Renny gave me!”
The Saint Bernard held up a giant bag of gummy bears. Daitek blinked and shrugged.
“So you got some candy. What about it?”
“It’s not just ‘some’ candy. It’s sugar-free! Renny told me this is what he eats whenever he needs to shed a few pounds! Maybe we should all eat some—”
“No.”
“I’m good,” said Wally.
“They’re all yours buddy!” said Darwin.
Dunlap blinked. “You serious? These don’t even taste all that bad. It’s like they got real sugar in ‘em; I swear, it’s like eating regular gummy bears! And like I said, it’ll help us lose weight!”
Darwin grinned. “Oh, you’ll be losing weight all right…”
Steve and his team were in the mess hall yet again, although this time Dunlap wasn’t joining them. The six dogs had an entire table to themselves now; all the small stools and chairs for the regular lunchroom tables weren’t big enough to hold their massive bodies and large behinds. They didn’t feel like changing out of their attire either, so most of the soldiers in the mess hall steered clear of the sweaty dogs carrying a greasy, aromatic scent around them. Today the chef had prepared the dogs several sloppy meals, all rich in sauces and various kinds of meat. The Great Dane and Rottweiler were eating several sloppy joes at a time, inhaling them as they snatched one after another off the giant plates the meals were prepared on. Tomato sauce and the minced ground beef oozed out from in-between the hamburger buns, plopping onto their clothing and face. Steve and Wally were both chowing down on ribs that felt like they had been dipped in an entire bucket of barbecue sauce. The wolves hungrily ate the tender meat as it fell off the bone, licking their fingers and lips clean of all the sauce. Darwin and Dustin were swapping back and forth between eating buffalo wings and downing entire bottles of soda. Both dogs seemed to enjoy the stinging, burning sensation in their throat as they consumed soda after eating the hot foods.
The terrier and mastiff even stopped eating a few times to get into a belching contest, with both canines opening their mouths wide and letting out a monstrous burp. The other four dogs chuckled as they watched the brief spectacle, but their bellies began to grumble, and it wasn’t long before they resumed eating more food. The six dogs consumed all the delicious treats before they decided to go exercise again, although having so much food on their stomachs didn’t bode well for them. The dogs thought they’d start throwing up, but instead, they only became hungrier. As Steve did sit-ups in the basketball court, Dustin would hover over him with a Snickers bar. Everytime Steve lifted his head, he’d open his mouth and snatch the bar from Dustin’s fingers. Darwin and Wally, having some of the biggest bellies and asses on the team, invited a few other soldiers to watch as they sumo wrestled each other out in the desert. If one dog shoved the other outside of the ring, the winner was rewarded with a corn dog. If one dog managed to subdue and pin one to the ground, then he was rewarded with a chili dog. Eventually, both dogs won so many times that they ran out of food to offer the winners.
As evening came, the dogs realized, with much embarrassment, that using the bathroom was their biggest challenge. Since it was hard to grab their penises, some dogs just stood in front of a urinal, lowered their pants altogether, and hoped that their fluids didn’t hit the wall. Those who had more explosive emergencies found it hard to squeeze inside a tiny stall. And even inside, it was very hard for them to sit (or squat) over a toilet without breaking it. By the time their bowels and bladder were empty, the tired dogs figured it was time to get some rest again. So they all retreated to their bedroom in the barracks, where they found Dunlap lying on bed, groaning as he grasped his plump belly.
“What’s your problem? We haven’t seen you all day,” asked Darren.
Dunlap grunted and responded by farting, his anus burning and quickly heating up the room. The Saint Bernard exhaled and blinked twice.
“I…I ate the whole bag,” Dunlap whined.
“Whole bag of what?” asked Steve.
“Sugar-free gummy bears,” said Daitek.
Darwin chuckled to himself and plugged his nose when Dunlap farted again. Knowing they would be stuck with the flatulent dog all night, Steve waved a paw in front of his face, left the door open, and turned on the A/C to full blast. Dunlap shut his eyes as he rolled over and lied on his stomach.
“So…did it work?” asked Darwin.
Dunlap grunted. “Did what work?”
“You lose any weight?”
Dunlap looked at Darwin’s wide grin and scowled. “Fuck you, Darwin!”
And then Dunlap groaned as he passed more gas.
Their bodies seemed to have settled down. There was no belly gurgling, no asses growing to astronomical sizes, no widening footpaws or groins of fat. There was no noise inside the room beside the seven dogs snoring and the A/C blowing, along with the periodic fart from Dunlap’s behind. They all slept soundly that night, smiling or drooling, thinking about all the luscious foods that crept into their minds again. Dustin was sitting on top of a giant hill, watching as tiny warriors composed of food started to run up the hill carrying medieval weapons made of sweet nourishments. The mastiff grinned, bending down and scarfing them all whole one at a time. Dunlap and Darwin seemed to be sharing the same dream where the two dogs were lying in a giant pool of baked beans and chili. They were floating on their backs, the meaty, bean-filled sludge soaking into their fur. Meanwhile, Steve was busy writhing around in his sleep, having a terrible “nightmare” where he was tied to a chair and force-fed so much food that the wolf thought he was going to physically explode. Wally, Darren and Daitek were all sharing dreams as well, although they were all lounging around smoking their fat cigars one minute then spending the next being served food from several attractive felines. They were both mumbling and smiling in their beds, as peaceful as could be.
None of them could see the aging feline peering into the room, his gleaming yellow eyes illuminated in the darkness. They couldn’t see his wide, malicious grin either as the giant jaguar glared at the bloated beasts. The feline chuckled quietly to himself before he moved away from the dogs’ open door. Then he turned around and left, knowing he had plenty of more recruits.
Steve and his crew were understandably confused. They weren’t assigned to head out into the field anymore. No one issued them more power armor that could fit them, nor did they try to figure out how to get the seven beasts to lose their weight. Instead, all of them found themselves inside a large warehouse filled with various desks, computers, and massive chairs. Behind a series of double-doors was the main lifting division, where creatures stronger and more muscular than them were required to haul equipment and other machinery around with their giant bodies.
“I…I can’t believe this,” said Wally with disbelief.
“This is-this is all real? It’s no dream?” asked Daitek.
The jaguar commander smiled and shook his head. “No dream, Daitek. This division is indeed real. And it’s designed for creatures just like you!”
The seven canines started to walk around the giant warehouse, staring in awe at their surroundings and the way everyone was being catered. Darwin and Dunlap saw two foxes clad in jumpsuits sitting in massive computer chairs that were so wide they had three legs and two cushions on them. The chairs never squeaked or buckled down beneath the creatures’ obese weight either. As the foxes sat in front of the computer decoding software with one paw, they used the other to stuff their meaty paws into giant bags of chips, which they then shoveled into their mouths.
“You see, here in the POW Division, we take individuals with your…assets and put ‘em to better use! Decoding encrypted messages, hacking into the enemies’ mainframe and downloading crucial information, sketching out battle plans and blueprints, and even sitting at the desks answering phone calls or helping out with problems occurring right here on the base! It's all perfectly safe and normal—and we make sure to give you assets the most comfortable experience of all!”
Darren raised an eyebrow. “Wait, the POW Division?”
The jaguar nodded. “Pear Office Workers!”
Darren looked down at his pudgy belly bulging out over the waistband of his nylon shorts. “Fitting.”
The jaguar turned back around and guided them through the rest of the building. He showed them the various cooks who were moving back and forth between the kitchens, some walking in with orders, some coming out with massive trays of food. Dustin couldn’t help but lick his lips when he saw a chubby hyena walk out of the kitchen pushing a giant cart filled with greasy fried chicken, sloppy joes, SPAM already pushed from its container, and enough pecan pies to make a young cub lose all his teeth. The chef pushed the cart over towards a trio of lizards who were all sweating and drooling, their bodies clad in dark red jumpsuits, their stomachs big enough to smother someone. They grabbed the pies, sloppy joes, SPAM and chicken with their bare hands and ravenously began to scarf the food, some of them belching or slurping as they shoveled the unhealthy food into their faces. The other dogs began to notice all the food being prepared and moaned, their bellies visibly jiggling as they growled, waiting for more food. Daitek dug into his pocket and started to fish out a cigar, sticking the fat piece of tobacco into his mouth. The jaguar quickly removed the cigar from his mouth, causing the Rottweiler to growl.
“Ah! We don’t smoke in here, soldier. Doesn’t help any of the creatures with sinus issues or bad lungs,” the feline snapped.
Daitek huffed. “Had a feeling this was too good to be true.”
The jaguar grinned and wagged his tail, guiding the Rottweiler over towards a large blue door with a green cigarette as its logo. The jaguar pushed open the door, and Daitek was immediately blasted with smog.
“We smoke in here.”
Daitek grinned. Inside was a smaller section of the warehouse filled with beasts who were constantly typing on computers as they sucked on a long cigar or a small cigarette. Some of them never took their smoking instruments from their mouths—they used both hands or paws to type and released the smoke they inhaled through their nostrils. The Rottweiler’s eyes lit up as he heard several creatures exhaling smoke and listened to the ends of smoking instruments sizzling as they were set ablaze. Daitek snickered as he slowly stepped inside.
“I’ll, uh…I’ll be out in a moment,” said the large dog.
Daitek stepped inside and shut the door, leaving the other six dogs outside. The jaguar wagged his tail and grinned slowly as he stared at the canines.
“So what do you say, gentlemen? Would you like to join the POW Division?”
Steve chuckled. “Why wouldn’t we?”
It was better this way. They all knew that now. No risking their lives, no exerting their bodies, no putting on uncomfortable pieces of armor, and certainly no worrying about being stuck inside of a temple being forced to starve to death. Instead, they were all stuck inside a building most of the day, their fat asses glued to computer chairs. Working with the other POW soldiers was fairly easy—most of the other soldiers were friendly, and those that weren’t usually kept to themselves, smothering their faces with large quantities of food. All the canines were trained with computers shortly after graduating boot camp, so it didn’t take long for them to get adjusted to their new careers. Dunlap and Darwin spent most of their time hacking into the enemies’ mainframes, downloading loads of useful information with the time they had. Sometimes they’d even race each other to see who could decrypt the enemies’ software first, and the winner got to eat their choice of a dozen hot dogs while the loser could only eat a bag of bland pretzels. Darren spent most of his time in the lifting division, demonstrating his brute strength to the other plump dogs. He had no trouble lifting heavy crates by himself—sometimes he managed to lift giant barrels over his head. But after working in the division for a while, he earned the nickname “Rip-Ass” because he had a bad habit of splitting his trousers (sometimes his underwear too) right down the middle.
Daitek was happy where he was as well, stuck inside the smoky room, constantly sucking on his fat cigars. Even now the Rottweiler was leaning back in his chair, smiling as he watched his computer gradually break through an enemy base’s firewall. His friends couldn’t help but laugh; the program Daitek built was symbolized by a giant Pac-Man slowly eating his way through a wall. And when it broke through, it showed the Pac-Man hungrily chasing after dark blue ghosts and eating them all. Dustin was constantly multi-tasking, sitting in a fat computer chair surrounded by various desks. He’d spin ninety degrees and find himself organizing files and sending them to the right military commanders through e-mails. He’d spin another ninety and find himself hacking more firewalls. Spin another ninety, and the dog would answer a phone call (whenever it rang, anyway). And whenever the canine returned to his desk, he was greeted to a hot, steaming plate of food. Today it was spaghetti and meatballs, with two dozen cheese sticks on the side. The dog quickly grabbed a pawful of spaghetti and stuffed it all into his mouth, chewing so sloppily that some of the spaghetti was flying from his maw across the table. He swallowed hard before he grabbed a cheese stick and dipped it into marinara sauce, only to groan and roll his eyes when the phone rang.
Wally was currently busy guiding the new member around. The gray wolf was waddling his way around the giant room, trying to find the right computer for the obese new recruit to sit at.
“So, Sergeant Fox. Where you from?”
The light purple fox chuckled, his moobs and corpulent pudge jiggling. “You can just call me Dolby. And I transferred from the Canadian Forces Unit.”
“Really? Just wanted a change of scenery?”
Dolby shook his head. “Nah. As you can see, I’ve been packing a lotta pounds. After a while it gets pretty hard being in the field. Can’t run, harder to evade the enemy, get exhausted more easily. Not to mention you get…stuck more often.”
The purplish fox looked down at his cream-colored belly as it hung over the waistband of his trousers. He was wearing dark gray nylon shorts so he wouldn’t be constantly sweating, although with nothing else on, his blubbery fat and gigantic moobs hung low for everyone to see. Dolby grabbed his rolls of fat and patted them, wiggling them around slightly.
“I heard about this unit. Figured it’d be best I join, be part of a unit where I’m actually useful and not just that ‘fat fuck’ who eats all the food on base.”
Wally laughed. “Well, you’re in good paws, buddy! This is the perfect unit for you! You have all the air conditioning, food, and cigars that you want! All the doors are designed to fit us fat creatures too; we can even use the bathroom without having…issues. I swear trying to cram into one of those ordinary stalls is ridiculous.”
Dolby chuckled. “I hear ya. That seat over there looks fine.”
Dolby started to waddle his way towards the massive two-cushioned seat, only for Wally to grab his paw and quickly stop him.
“Erm, that seat’s behind Dunlap and Darwin.”
“So?”
“So they’ve spent all morning eating bean-enriched burritos and had a bucket of chili as a snack. Trust me; the last place you wanna sit is behind them.”
Dolby frowned. “Oh dear. Well, uh, that seat over there looks good.”
Dolby pointed over towards another computer chair and monitor near the front of the room. Wally nodded and patted the fox on his back, smiling as he guided him over to the computer station to teach him about his new job. Steve, being the leader of his team, decided it would be best to run comms for the other soldiers, making sure to give them proper surveillance and technical equipment before they were deployed. Right now the obese wolf was sitting on his big rump, clad in a purple shirt that couldn’t cover his belly and a pair of loose-fitting blue shorts. The wolf smacked loudly as he chewed on some nachos, the grease, cheese, and sloppy ground beef sliding down his chin.
“Okay,” said the wolf before gulping, “now head to the left. See anything?”
Steve grabbed another pawful of nachos and shoved them all into his mouth, crunching and smacking so loudly the team leader out on patrol was nearly deafened.
“God, could you crunch any louder Steve?”
“What? Can’t hear you,” he said with his mouth full.
Steve swallowed all the nachos with another big gulp before he picked up his container of soda. Steve sucked on the straw, slurping up large amounts of the sugary, fizzy beverage so fast that visible bulges could be seen moving down his throat. He put down the soda and belched, before wiping his mouth off and sighing.
“Status report.”
“We’re all fine, Steve. But there’s nothing here!”
“I thought your Intel said the weapon would be located in this temple?” asked another soldier out in the field.
Steve rubbed his chin and blinked. “Are you absolutely sure you found nothing there? No strange drawings, no weird machines that pump out strange toxins? Nothing?”
“That’s a negative, sir. Wait…huh…air smells kinda odd now.”
“Of course it does, Commander!” shouted another field soldier. “We got a skunk on our team! Did you spray yourself again, Hallis?”
“I didn’t!”
The leader of the unit sighed. “I’m scrappin’ this mission; there’s nothing here. If your Intel was right, Steve, then the enemy must’ve moved the weapon.”
The gray wolf huffed. “All right. Head back to base. I’m gonna talk to some of the other POWs, see if they found anything new.”
“Roger.”
Steve leaned back in his chair and sighed heavily. He scratched his head, trying to understand what just happened. He knew the information he downloaded was accurate. It had to be. Clearly there was something in all those temples. But the wolf didn’t know what it was. He rubbed his eyes before reaching forward and munching on more nachos. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe his fat fingers punched in the wrong numbers during the decoding process and he got the wrong location. Ah well, Steve thought. I’ll talk to the POWs later. …After I finish my nachos.
The jaguar who introduced Steve and his team to the POW Division snickered as he watched the other team exit the temple with a laptop. The spotted feline closed the device before he looked down at a long list of team commanders and all their soldiers’ ranks and names listed beneath them. Steve and his unit had been crossed out. The jaguar skimmed the list quickly before he found the name of the team commander who just exited another temple and crossed it out. Then the feline laughed deeply as he rolled up the list and hid it inside a filing cabinet.
“Won’t be long now. Just a dozen or so teams…and then this base will be completely neutered, filled with nothing but fat blobs who can’t even walk properly as its primary line of defense.”
The jaguar closed his eyes and laughed again, his dastardly plans gradually coming to fruition.
Category Story / Fat Furs
Species Dog (Other)
Size 120 x 46px
File Size 46.1 kB
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