Here we have a fun commission for
dandin! His otter Friday is a typical alpha male and bodybuilder, but a slight clothing mishap at the gym results in him quickly packing on the pounds.
Friday ©
dandin
Story © c'est moi
“Seven… eight… nine…” Friday huffed, his bulging chest puffing as he summoned up the last of his strength to push up against the bar loaded with weights. “Ten!”
Grunting in victory, the giant river otter let the barbell fall back on the bench press. He leapt up, pumping his pecs and grinning toothily in the mirror. It had been a good workout, and he loved working out his upper body. Friday had pushed himself to his limits today, and his whole torso showed it. His muscles rippled under his sleek, tan pelt, and his thick arms roped with heavy muscle pumped as he paused to flex in the mirror. His pecs were particularly swollen, warping a blonde, lock-shaped mark on his chest as it spilled out of his strained muscle shirt. Patting himself down with a towel, he moved to the showers.
Once under a shower head, Friday sighed contentedly. As an otter, he loved the water; he smiled satisfactorily as rivulets of water flowed down the swells of muscle along his wide back and dripped across the crest of his vast chest. He scrubbed down his strong legs, then turned off the showerhead. He wrapped a towel around his waist, then spotted a familiar face on his way out.
“Oh, hey, uh… Jake, right?” Friday grinned down at a short gila monster in front of him.
“Oh!” Jake blushed. “Hi, Friday.” The reptile wrapped his towel around him a little tighter. “I, uh, just started out here… I didn’t really know what I should do, so I just puttered around and, uh, hopped on the treadmill for a little bit...” That much was evident. Jake’s yellow and black scales were stretched across a large potbelly that was spilling over his towel, and his limbs were noticeably soft.
“I can tell,” Friday teased, nudging the gila monster. “Ah, but you’re here now, right? You’ll slim down in no time.”
“Right, uh… I just wish I had it as easy as you. You look, uh, really great.” Jake grinned bashfully.
Friday flexed his arm, letting his bicep swell up. “Thanks. It was a good day. But you’ll have those, too.”
“Right…” Jake’s eyes lingered on the otter’s meaty arm. “Well, uh, see you later, Friday.”
“Take care,” the otter mumbled, moving to the lockers. Jake had been his neighbor for almost a year, now; he was quiet and timid, but he always seemed to find time for some awkward small talk with Friday. If he didn’t know better, the otter would say Jake had a crush on him.
He fiddled with his locker and grabbed the green shorts inside, quickly pulling them up over his hips. He frowned a bit; they fit better just a minute ago.
“Weird…” he fiddled with the waistband. They weren’t tight, and he was surprised to find them a little baggy, but more than that, the shorts felt like they just didn’t fit his hips. They were definitely the same color, however, and they fit well enough. “Damn cheap shorts,” he grunted as he tugged them up and pulled his shirt over his impressively muscled torso. He grabbed his bag then headed home for a well-deserved night’s sleep.
The next morning, Friday woke up a little groggier than usual, and he had the strangest craving for all kinds of things, like donuts and Burger Hut’s newest breakfast burrito. He wasn’t quite sure if he could afford a cheat day, but he was heavily tempted to the more he thought on it. He rolled over, and instantly, he felt something was wrong. Throwing off his covers, he jumped out of bed, but felt weakened and off-balance. Even more disorienting, everything in his room seemed just a bit bigger. Not by too much, maybe a few inches at most, but it was just enough to immediately put Friday on edge. The fur on the back of his head stood on end; something was wrong, and he had no idea what.
Then he looked down.
“What the Hell?” Friday muttered, his eyes wide. He prodded his own middle, and gasped as his finger sunk into a bellyful of fat that was most definitely not there when he went to bed last night. He ran a head over his head, thinking over last night as he began pacing. He cringed as he felt his chunky thighs rub against one another. “I… I had a salad and grilled chicken. This doesn’t make sense…”
He rushed into the bathroom, looking himself over. His face sank in dismay, as practically all his muscle had slipped away. He was at least a foot shorter, and every part of him was soft and jiggly. His chest, once his pride and joy, now drooped and sagged on top of his potbelly, distorting his lock-shaped marking. “I don’t understand… what could have happened?”
The otter stumbled back to his bedroom, still getting used to his shorter legs. His hands were shaking as he grabbed his phone and quickly called Mort, a giant of a bear that was often his erstwhile workout partner. “Mort?” he called breathlessly. “Mort, you gotta help me, something weird happened. I think I need to go to the hospital.”
“Woah, calm down, Friday,” the bear ordered on the other end. “What happened?”
“I- I don’t know! I went to the gym last night, I had a normal dinner, but now I look like I ate the staypuft marshmallow man!”
There was a pause, as if Mort was choosing his words carefully. “Look, Friday, first of all, congrats on finally going to the gym, but you can’t expect to lose all that weight after one workout.”
“After one… what are you talking about?” Friday demanded. “I’m in better shape than you! You’re a great weightlifter, but you still carry around that spare tire.”
“Yeah, if memory serves, I didn’t have this gut until I started hanging out with you, doughboy.” Mort growled. “Look, you’re a good friend, man, and I love hanging out with you, but I’ve been trying to get you to work out for years. Now, after one night, you’re freaking out and calling me fat. Call me back when you calm down.”
Friday slowly lowered his phone as Mort hung up, trying to process what he had just said. Why would Mort act like that? He wasn’t one for pranks. The otter shook his head. He just needed to see his doctor; all of his records were there. He grabbed some clothes that he was certain wouldn’t fit, given his current shape, but to his chagrin, everything fit his doughy build. He stepped out into his apartment, and shouted in exasperation as he surveyed the walls. All his bodybuilding awards and photos had been replaced, and every photo showed him getting more and more rotund. “This… this is a dream,” he nodded quickly. “Yeah. That’s it.” He pinched his love-handles, his face souring as he felt how soft his sides were.
When he opened his eyes, he shook his head; he was still staring at fat. “I just… I just gotta get to the doctor… it’s just swelling. From… allergies. Right.”
Friday moved to the front door, and peeked outside to make sure none of his neighbors would see him like this. Breathing a sigh of relief, he slipped out and quickly checked his mail.
“Oh, hey there, Friday.”
The otter cringed, bracing himself as he turned around. When he saw his neighbor, however, his jaw dropped. “Jake?”
The gila monster was, for lack of a better word, truly monstrous. He towered over Friday, now. Some familiar looking green shorts straddled tree-trunk sized legs that, judging by the muscle rippling under his yellow and black scales, were certainly hard as oak. The doughy otter was cast in the shadow of the reptile’s bulging chest, granite-like pecs filling his taut shirt. Grinning wide, Jake threw an arm around Friday’s rounded shoulders, pressing the otter’s cheeks against soaring flanks while a cannonball bicep pressed the back of his head.
“You okay, Friday? You’re looking a little under the weather,” Jake commented, his face slipping into a frown.
The otter spotted the green shorts, and his eyes bulged. He struggled against the lizard’s great strength, panting from the effort. “Get— get off of me!” He pointed an accusatory finger at Jake. “You did this!”
The gila monster blinked. “...Did what?”
“You switched clothes with me! You took my shorts at the gym last night, and you made me… this!” Friday grabbed at his potbelly, shaking the fat for emphasis.
Jake cocked his head. “Friday, I don’t know what you’re talking about, man. I didn’t even know you went to the gym.” He cast the otter a scrutinizing eye. “Just started out, I’m guessing?”
Friday blushed furiously. “Don’t play dumb! I saw you just last night. You told me how great I looked!”
Jake chuckled lightly. “Well.” He reached out, lightly punching the otter’s round cheek. “You’re not normally my type, but… I do think you’re pretty cute.”
“I am not cute!” the otter snapped. “I’m a three time bodybuilding champion!”
“Did you like, skip breakfast, or something?” Jake tugged on Friday, steering him towards his apartment. “Why don’t we get you something to eat to calm down? You still like my fried fish, right? I’ll even batter it in butter, just the way you like.”
“I—” Friday grunted, flustered. His stomach was growling. Fried fish sounded really good, as a matter of fact, but he beat down the temptation.
“No! I don’t have time for this!”
“Friday, wait!”
The otter huffed, jogging to his car. He squeezed into the seat and immediately drove for the doctor’s office. His doctor, a no-nonsense german shepherd, just squeezed him into her schedule.
“So, what seems to be the problem, Friday?” Dr. Schmidt asked, arching her brow as she looked him over.
“I— well, look at me!” He jiggled his belly again.
“Yes…? You look the same as you did when I saw you for your physical last month.” She scrutinized him, scratching a note on her clipboard.
“Maybe a few extra pounds, actually.”
The otter’s jaw dropped again. “What? Last month, I came in for my bodybuilding competition! I had a pain in my leg for pulling my quadriceps doing squats! You figured that out. Remember?”
Dr. Schmidt tapped her pen against the clipboard, then immediately pressed her hand against his forehead. “Alright, Friday. Just answer a few questions. What’s today’s date?”
“October ninth.”
“Who’s the President of the United States?”
“Do I have to say it?”
The canine scoffed drily. “What is your name?”
“Friday Donnelly.”
The doctor sighed. “Alright, Friday, are you pulling one over me? Is this some kind of joke?”
“What? No!” Friday slid off the examination table. “Everyone’s acting like I’ve always been fat, and it’s driving me crazy!”
“Mr. Donnelly, you’ve been coming to my office for five years, now, and I’ve counseled you to exercise and diet. You complained that since you got that office job shortly before coming to me, and spent eight hours a day on your rear end, you’ve ballooned— more quickly than I usually see in sedentary lifestyles.”
“What? Office job? I don’t work in an office, I’m a professional bodybuilder!”
“Right…” Dr. Schmidt scribbled something on her notepad. “Mr. Donnelly, I’m going to recommend you see Dr. Gestalt upstairs. He’s one of the finest psychologists in the city. I’m going to be frank; you seem to be suffering from a type of mental breakdown. Are you stressed out at your job?”
“No! I friggin’ love my job, I…” Friday trailed off, frowning as something sparked off in his memory. A lot of tedium, typing away at a computer in a cubicle. He remembered blowing off steam with co-workers and friends, at office parties, bars, buffets, the local burger joint by his office…
“No, I…” He looked up at Dr. Schmidt. “I’ve never been… buff?”
“Mr. Donnelly, you’ve not got a foot in the grave, but as long as I’ve known you, you’ve never been a paragon of good health. You’ve been ignoring my recommendations for exercising ever since we’ve met. But, if it’s finally sinking in, then I can recommend a diet plan and some helpful exercises.”
“...Yes, thank you.”
Friday carried himself to the first fast food restaurant he could find, finally giving in to his growling stomach. He looked from the supersized burger meal and large chocolate shake he ordered on impulse back to Dr. Schmidt’s recommendations. He remembered it so clearly. He squatted six hundred and fifty pounds as his max, and bench pressed five hundred on a good day. Or was that the other way around? It was so muddled… maybe he needed more food. He had skipped breakfast and lunch, after all.
Friday dragged himself out of bed the next day, still dismayed to look down at a round belly. He had eaten way too much yesterday; he marked it up to stress eating, unable to build up the willpower to get out of the burger place until his second milkshake. Well, whatever happened, whether he really had been a bodybuilding champion or if it was all just a dream, Friday was determined. He was going to get into shape.
The only workout clothes were a little tight; his sweatpants hugged his hips, giving him a terrible case of muffin top, and his shirt couldn’t quite cover up all his soft middle. He remembered what it was like when he first started working out; or, rather, he at least knew what to do. He just had to pace himself.
The otter quietly slipped out his front door, nervously looking over his shoulder to make sure no one was looking. He began his jog, trying to find his rhythm. His thighs were rolling off each other, throwing him off, and his breathing was labored after a few minutes, but Friday was determined. He wasn’t going to stop for anything.
“Hey, Friday!”
Except Jake. The otter looked over his shoulder as the gila monster quickly overtook him. “Wow, you were serious about getting into shape, huh?”
Friday cleared his throat, trying to keep his eyes forward. Watching the reptile’s tensed arms pump and his powerful legs pounding against the pavement was… distracting. “Yeah… just thought I’d put my best foot forward.”
“Hey, that’s great!” Jake grinned. “Well, there’s a coffee shop I like stopping at. Why don’t I treat you to something, a little encouragement?”
“Oh, uh…” Friday glanced over to Jake. “Yeah, that’s really nice.”
The gila monster winked. “But first, you gotta keep up.”
“Wait, what?”
Twenty minutes later, Jake sauntered into the coffee shop, holding the door open for Friday. The chubby otter staggered in, panting and gasping for breath. “That… that was…”
The muscular reptile patted him on the back. “Hey, it gets easier, I promise. But come on. You did good, so, like I said, anything you want is on me.”
“That’s… very generous… but first…” Friday gasped, weakly reaching out for the coffee bar. “Water.”
Jake was true to his word; the otter was given carte blanche for the coffee shop’s menu, and Friday noshed down three bear claws and a caramel macchiato before he remembered he was supposed to be dieting. “So…” he regretfully put down the fourth and final bear claw. “You’re a professional bodybuilder?”
The reptile grinned, flexing his bicep as the mound of muscle swelled to the size of a melon. “Three time champion. Not that I need to tell you what that’s like, right?”
Friday immediately scowled at him.
Jake held up his arms. “Sorry, sorry. Just teasing. Look, uh… I don’t know what’s going on with you, but Friday, really— you’re fine just the way you are.”
“I am not. I’ve got to get back to what I was,” the otter explained, as he bit into the bear claw without thinking. His belly was stuffed, poking out of his shirt and starting to press against the table.
“Well… you can’t be what you were. You can only be what you are.”
Friday scoffed. “So, what, you’re going to throw inspirational quotes at me, now?”
The gila monster chuckled. “Fair enough. But, look… if you’ve really got your heart set on working out, let me help you out. I can steer you in the right direction.”
“I know what to do,” Friday snapped. Looking at Jake, he sighed. “I’m sorry. You’ve been really nice, and… yeah, I could use your help. Thank you. It’s very nice of you.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it. I’m just here to help.”
The following weeks were a harrowing time for Friday; true to his word, Jake was by his side every time he went to the gym, willing to push him to his limits. The otter wasn’t certain about everything he was being told; the gila monster seemed to alternate between pushing him through gruelling exercises then switching to days where they did almost nothing besides relaxing in the gym’s lap pool. Friday vaguely remembered different methods, but, all Jake had to do was bounce his pecs, cliff-like chest ready to snap his strained shirt, and the otter lost his train of thought.
Whatever the workout of the day was like, however, it always ended the same way. The gym was an oasis of health-consciousness, as it was located on a strip mall where practically every other venue was a food venue, almost all of it fast food. There was enough of them that Friday was able to sample a new one day after day, and, combined with the otter’s insistence that he use the same protein powder and supplements Jake used, the result was not what he expected, but would be obvious to anyone that had a basic understanding of how bulking works.
When enough time passed, Friday had to admit that his attempts to workout had gone askew. His plan to rush himself back to his old size had indeed packed on the pounds, but it was almost all fat. He was, perhaps, a little stronger, but whatever muscle he had built up was buried under a thick layer of blubber. The otter’s belly spilled over his strained waistband, now swollen to a small hill of blubber. His hips were on the verge of going wider than his stubby legs, chunky thighs rolling off of each other. His arms were definitely thicker, but where he was hoping to find iron-clad swollen biceps, there were rings of lard that jiggled if he moved his arms too fast. His distinctive lock-shaped blonde mark was distorted and partially obscured by his doughy, saggy chest and his multiple chins. He had exploded in weight, nearly doubling in size since he tried getting into shape.
Friday huffed, his round, cherubic cheeks billowing as he tried to catch his breath as he plodded along at a snail’s pace on the treadmill. It had been a couple of minutes.
“Alright, come on, champ,” Jake patted the otter on the shoulder, steadying him as he turned off the treadmill. “That’s enough for today.”
“Oh, thank God,” the otter wheezed. “I was so tired after today. We had a bit of a snafu at the office.” His job at a local tech company wasn’t so bad. He had adjusted pretty well, and he even seemed a little popular. If the break room fridge ever needed cleaning out, his co-workers knew who to come to.
“Hey, that’s no problem. You’re doing great. You’ve not missed one workout, so, why don’t I treat you to a special dinner, hm? Over at my place.” Jake turned Friday around, his beefy pecs and diamond-cut abs a few inches from the otter’s face. “It’ll be my fried fish filet.”
“...Battered in butter?” Friday asked quietly, a little distracted by the gila monster’s vast, wall-like torso.
“Just for you,” Jake grinned.
The mustelid was whisked away to Jake’s apartment for the promised dinner. The reptile cooked up a massive amount of fish, tempting Friday with the tantalizing smell. He seated the doughy otter on the sofa, sitting opposite him with the plate laden with fried fish. “You know…” Jake rolled his mountainous shoulders, draping his titanic arm over Friday’s shoulders and tugging him close. “I still think you’re awfully cute.”
“No, I’m not…” Friday blushed, then grabbed a fistful of fat, jiggling his vast middle that rippled like ocean waves. “You, you look great. I’m just a tub of lard.”
Jake smirked, holding up a piece of fried fish and feeding it to Friday. “I’ve got to admit, I’ve always had a thing for you. And since you started working out, I think you’ve gotten even cuter.”
“But I haven’t even lost weight or—” Friday was cut-off with another piece of fish was pushed into his mouth.
“Maybe I think you look better with a little extra heft.” Jake grinned, flexing his free arm. His bicep swelled up, almost scraping against his clenched fist. “Don’t you think I look good with even more bulk?”
“Well… yes…” Friday cleared his throat.
“Then maybe you look better with it, too. Haven’t you been having fun? You got an easy job, friends, you get to eat good food every day…”
“I know, but I swear that I used to be… different.”
“Well,” Jake pulled him closer, Friday’s belly squishing against his rippling torso. “Maybe it’s better this way. Oh, y’know…” Jake reached down to his rippling quads, snapping the waistband of his green shorts. “I never thanked you for loaning me your shorts.”
Friday’s eyes bulged. “Wait, what? You mean I really was—” He was cut off as another piece of fish was shoved into his mouth.
“Shhh,” Jake rumbled, muscle rippling against Friday’s blubbery body. He caressed the otter’s love handles, squeezing and pinching at his soft, plush sides. “You’re comfortable now, right? You don’t have to do all that hard work anymore, maintaining a body like this.” He paused to tense his arms as he wrapped them around Friday’s body, biceps digging into his soft sides. “And I just want to help you with that. I’ve taken care of everything.”
Friday shook his head. “B-but how did you…?”
Jake grinned. “Don’t worry about it. Do you want to keep talking, or did you want to finish your fish?”
Friday rested a hand on the crest of his vast belly, and looked longingly at the buttery fried meal. “...I’ll finish the fish.” The otter leaned back on the couch, the furniture creaking ominously with all that weight piled on. The gila monster grinned, leaning over him to finish feeding him. Friday chewed slowly, savoring the flavor. There were definitely worse ways to live, after all...
dandin! His otter Friday is a typical alpha male and bodybuilder, but a slight clothing mishap at the gym results in him quickly packing on the pounds.Friday ©
dandinStory © c'est moi
“Seven… eight… nine…” Friday huffed, his bulging chest puffing as he summoned up the last of his strength to push up against the bar loaded with weights. “Ten!”
Grunting in victory, the giant river otter let the barbell fall back on the bench press. He leapt up, pumping his pecs and grinning toothily in the mirror. It had been a good workout, and he loved working out his upper body. Friday had pushed himself to his limits today, and his whole torso showed it. His muscles rippled under his sleek, tan pelt, and his thick arms roped with heavy muscle pumped as he paused to flex in the mirror. His pecs were particularly swollen, warping a blonde, lock-shaped mark on his chest as it spilled out of his strained muscle shirt. Patting himself down with a towel, he moved to the showers.
Once under a shower head, Friday sighed contentedly. As an otter, he loved the water; he smiled satisfactorily as rivulets of water flowed down the swells of muscle along his wide back and dripped across the crest of his vast chest. He scrubbed down his strong legs, then turned off the showerhead. He wrapped a towel around his waist, then spotted a familiar face on his way out.
“Oh, hey, uh… Jake, right?” Friday grinned down at a short gila monster in front of him.
“Oh!” Jake blushed. “Hi, Friday.” The reptile wrapped his towel around him a little tighter. “I, uh, just started out here… I didn’t really know what I should do, so I just puttered around and, uh, hopped on the treadmill for a little bit...” That much was evident. Jake’s yellow and black scales were stretched across a large potbelly that was spilling over his towel, and his limbs were noticeably soft.
“I can tell,” Friday teased, nudging the gila monster. “Ah, but you’re here now, right? You’ll slim down in no time.”
“Right, uh… I just wish I had it as easy as you. You look, uh, really great.” Jake grinned bashfully.
Friday flexed his arm, letting his bicep swell up. “Thanks. It was a good day. But you’ll have those, too.”
“Right…” Jake’s eyes lingered on the otter’s meaty arm. “Well, uh, see you later, Friday.”
“Take care,” the otter mumbled, moving to the lockers. Jake had been his neighbor for almost a year, now; he was quiet and timid, but he always seemed to find time for some awkward small talk with Friday. If he didn’t know better, the otter would say Jake had a crush on him.
He fiddled with his locker and grabbed the green shorts inside, quickly pulling them up over his hips. He frowned a bit; they fit better just a minute ago.
“Weird…” he fiddled with the waistband. They weren’t tight, and he was surprised to find them a little baggy, but more than that, the shorts felt like they just didn’t fit his hips. They were definitely the same color, however, and they fit well enough. “Damn cheap shorts,” he grunted as he tugged them up and pulled his shirt over his impressively muscled torso. He grabbed his bag then headed home for a well-deserved night’s sleep.
The next morning, Friday woke up a little groggier than usual, and he had the strangest craving for all kinds of things, like donuts and Burger Hut’s newest breakfast burrito. He wasn’t quite sure if he could afford a cheat day, but he was heavily tempted to the more he thought on it. He rolled over, and instantly, he felt something was wrong. Throwing off his covers, he jumped out of bed, but felt weakened and off-balance. Even more disorienting, everything in his room seemed just a bit bigger. Not by too much, maybe a few inches at most, but it was just enough to immediately put Friday on edge. The fur on the back of his head stood on end; something was wrong, and he had no idea what.
Then he looked down.
“What the Hell?” Friday muttered, his eyes wide. He prodded his own middle, and gasped as his finger sunk into a bellyful of fat that was most definitely not there when he went to bed last night. He ran a head over his head, thinking over last night as he began pacing. He cringed as he felt his chunky thighs rub against one another. “I… I had a salad and grilled chicken. This doesn’t make sense…”
He rushed into the bathroom, looking himself over. His face sank in dismay, as practically all his muscle had slipped away. He was at least a foot shorter, and every part of him was soft and jiggly. His chest, once his pride and joy, now drooped and sagged on top of his potbelly, distorting his lock-shaped marking. “I don’t understand… what could have happened?”
The otter stumbled back to his bedroom, still getting used to his shorter legs. His hands were shaking as he grabbed his phone and quickly called Mort, a giant of a bear that was often his erstwhile workout partner. “Mort?” he called breathlessly. “Mort, you gotta help me, something weird happened. I think I need to go to the hospital.”
“Woah, calm down, Friday,” the bear ordered on the other end. “What happened?”
“I- I don’t know! I went to the gym last night, I had a normal dinner, but now I look like I ate the staypuft marshmallow man!”
There was a pause, as if Mort was choosing his words carefully. “Look, Friday, first of all, congrats on finally going to the gym, but you can’t expect to lose all that weight after one workout.”
“After one… what are you talking about?” Friday demanded. “I’m in better shape than you! You’re a great weightlifter, but you still carry around that spare tire.”
“Yeah, if memory serves, I didn’t have this gut until I started hanging out with you, doughboy.” Mort growled. “Look, you’re a good friend, man, and I love hanging out with you, but I’ve been trying to get you to work out for years. Now, after one night, you’re freaking out and calling me fat. Call me back when you calm down.”
Friday slowly lowered his phone as Mort hung up, trying to process what he had just said. Why would Mort act like that? He wasn’t one for pranks. The otter shook his head. He just needed to see his doctor; all of his records were there. He grabbed some clothes that he was certain wouldn’t fit, given his current shape, but to his chagrin, everything fit his doughy build. He stepped out into his apartment, and shouted in exasperation as he surveyed the walls. All his bodybuilding awards and photos had been replaced, and every photo showed him getting more and more rotund. “This… this is a dream,” he nodded quickly. “Yeah. That’s it.” He pinched his love-handles, his face souring as he felt how soft his sides were.
When he opened his eyes, he shook his head; he was still staring at fat. “I just… I just gotta get to the doctor… it’s just swelling. From… allergies. Right.”
Friday moved to the front door, and peeked outside to make sure none of his neighbors would see him like this. Breathing a sigh of relief, he slipped out and quickly checked his mail.
“Oh, hey there, Friday.”
The otter cringed, bracing himself as he turned around. When he saw his neighbor, however, his jaw dropped. “Jake?”
The gila monster was, for lack of a better word, truly monstrous. He towered over Friday, now. Some familiar looking green shorts straddled tree-trunk sized legs that, judging by the muscle rippling under his yellow and black scales, were certainly hard as oak. The doughy otter was cast in the shadow of the reptile’s bulging chest, granite-like pecs filling his taut shirt. Grinning wide, Jake threw an arm around Friday’s rounded shoulders, pressing the otter’s cheeks against soaring flanks while a cannonball bicep pressed the back of his head.
“You okay, Friday? You’re looking a little under the weather,” Jake commented, his face slipping into a frown.
The otter spotted the green shorts, and his eyes bulged. He struggled against the lizard’s great strength, panting from the effort. “Get— get off of me!” He pointed an accusatory finger at Jake. “You did this!”
The gila monster blinked. “...Did what?”
“You switched clothes with me! You took my shorts at the gym last night, and you made me… this!” Friday grabbed at his potbelly, shaking the fat for emphasis.
Jake cocked his head. “Friday, I don’t know what you’re talking about, man. I didn’t even know you went to the gym.” He cast the otter a scrutinizing eye. “Just started out, I’m guessing?”
Friday blushed furiously. “Don’t play dumb! I saw you just last night. You told me how great I looked!”
Jake chuckled lightly. “Well.” He reached out, lightly punching the otter’s round cheek. “You’re not normally my type, but… I do think you’re pretty cute.”
“I am not cute!” the otter snapped. “I’m a three time bodybuilding champion!”
“Did you like, skip breakfast, or something?” Jake tugged on Friday, steering him towards his apartment. “Why don’t we get you something to eat to calm down? You still like my fried fish, right? I’ll even batter it in butter, just the way you like.”
“I—” Friday grunted, flustered. His stomach was growling. Fried fish sounded really good, as a matter of fact, but he beat down the temptation.
“No! I don’t have time for this!”
“Friday, wait!”
The otter huffed, jogging to his car. He squeezed into the seat and immediately drove for the doctor’s office. His doctor, a no-nonsense german shepherd, just squeezed him into her schedule.
“So, what seems to be the problem, Friday?” Dr. Schmidt asked, arching her brow as she looked him over.
“I— well, look at me!” He jiggled his belly again.
“Yes…? You look the same as you did when I saw you for your physical last month.” She scrutinized him, scratching a note on her clipboard.
“Maybe a few extra pounds, actually.”
The otter’s jaw dropped again. “What? Last month, I came in for my bodybuilding competition! I had a pain in my leg for pulling my quadriceps doing squats! You figured that out. Remember?”
Dr. Schmidt tapped her pen against the clipboard, then immediately pressed her hand against his forehead. “Alright, Friday. Just answer a few questions. What’s today’s date?”
“October ninth.”
“Who’s the President of the United States?”
“Do I have to say it?”
The canine scoffed drily. “What is your name?”
“Friday Donnelly.”
The doctor sighed. “Alright, Friday, are you pulling one over me? Is this some kind of joke?”
“What? No!” Friday slid off the examination table. “Everyone’s acting like I’ve always been fat, and it’s driving me crazy!”
“Mr. Donnelly, you’ve been coming to my office for five years, now, and I’ve counseled you to exercise and diet. You complained that since you got that office job shortly before coming to me, and spent eight hours a day on your rear end, you’ve ballooned— more quickly than I usually see in sedentary lifestyles.”
“What? Office job? I don’t work in an office, I’m a professional bodybuilder!”
“Right…” Dr. Schmidt scribbled something on her notepad. “Mr. Donnelly, I’m going to recommend you see Dr. Gestalt upstairs. He’s one of the finest psychologists in the city. I’m going to be frank; you seem to be suffering from a type of mental breakdown. Are you stressed out at your job?”
“No! I friggin’ love my job, I…” Friday trailed off, frowning as something sparked off in his memory. A lot of tedium, typing away at a computer in a cubicle. He remembered blowing off steam with co-workers and friends, at office parties, bars, buffets, the local burger joint by his office…
“No, I…” He looked up at Dr. Schmidt. “I’ve never been… buff?”
“Mr. Donnelly, you’ve not got a foot in the grave, but as long as I’ve known you, you’ve never been a paragon of good health. You’ve been ignoring my recommendations for exercising ever since we’ve met. But, if it’s finally sinking in, then I can recommend a diet plan and some helpful exercises.”
“...Yes, thank you.”
Friday carried himself to the first fast food restaurant he could find, finally giving in to his growling stomach. He looked from the supersized burger meal and large chocolate shake he ordered on impulse back to Dr. Schmidt’s recommendations. He remembered it so clearly. He squatted six hundred and fifty pounds as his max, and bench pressed five hundred on a good day. Or was that the other way around? It was so muddled… maybe he needed more food. He had skipped breakfast and lunch, after all.
Friday dragged himself out of bed the next day, still dismayed to look down at a round belly. He had eaten way too much yesterday; he marked it up to stress eating, unable to build up the willpower to get out of the burger place until his second milkshake. Well, whatever happened, whether he really had been a bodybuilding champion or if it was all just a dream, Friday was determined. He was going to get into shape.
The only workout clothes were a little tight; his sweatpants hugged his hips, giving him a terrible case of muffin top, and his shirt couldn’t quite cover up all his soft middle. He remembered what it was like when he first started working out; or, rather, he at least knew what to do. He just had to pace himself.
The otter quietly slipped out his front door, nervously looking over his shoulder to make sure no one was looking. He began his jog, trying to find his rhythm. His thighs were rolling off each other, throwing him off, and his breathing was labored after a few minutes, but Friday was determined. He wasn’t going to stop for anything.
“Hey, Friday!”
Except Jake. The otter looked over his shoulder as the gila monster quickly overtook him. “Wow, you were serious about getting into shape, huh?”
Friday cleared his throat, trying to keep his eyes forward. Watching the reptile’s tensed arms pump and his powerful legs pounding against the pavement was… distracting. “Yeah… just thought I’d put my best foot forward.”
“Hey, that’s great!” Jake grinned. “Well, there’s a coffee shop I like stopping at. Why don’t I treat you to something, a little encouragement?”
“Oh, uh…” Friday glanced over to Jake. “Yeah, that’s really nice.”
The gila monster winked. “But first, you gotta keep up.”
“Wait, what?”
Twenty minutes later, Jake sauntered into the coffee shop, holding the door open for Friday. The chubby otter staggered in, panting and gasping for breath. “That… that was…”
The muscular reptile patted him on the back. “Hey, it gets easier, I promise. But come on. You did good, so, like I said, anything you want is on me.”
“That’s… very generous… but first…” Friday gasped, weakly reaching out for the coffee bar. “Water.”
Jake was true to his word; the otter was given carte blanche for the coffee shop’s menu, and Friday noshed down three bear claws and a caramel macchiato before he remembered he was supposed to be dieting. “So…” he regretfully put down the fourth and final bear claw. “You’re a professional bodybuilder?”
The reptile grinned, flexing his bicep as the mound of muscle swelled to the size of a melon. “Three time champion. Not that I need to tell you what that’s like, right?”
Friday immediately scowled at him.
Jake held up his arms. “Sorry, sorry. Just teasing. Look, uh… I don’t know what’s going on with you, but Friday, really— you’re fine just the way you are.”
“I am not. I’ve got to get back to what I was,” the otter explained, as he bit into the bear claw without thinking. His belly was stuffed, poking out of his shirt and starting to press against the table.
“Well… you can’t be what you were. You can only be what you are.”
Friday scoffed. “So, what, you’re going to throw inspirational quotes at me, now?”
The gila monster chuckled. “Fair enough. But, look… if you’ve really got your heart set on working out, let me help you out. I can steer you in the right direction.”
“I know what to do,” Friday snapped. Looking at Jake, he sighed. “I’m sorry. You’ve been really nice, and… yeah, I could use your help. Thank you. It’s very nice of you.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it. I’m just here to help.”
The following weeks were a harrowing time for Friday; true to his word, Jake was by his side every time he went to the gym, willing to push him to his limits. The otter wasn’t certain about everything he was being told; the gila monster seemed to alternate between pushing him through gruelling exercises then switching to days where they did almost nothing besides relaxing in the gym’s lap pool. Friday vaguely remembered different methods, but, all Jake had to do was bounce his pecs, cliff-like chest ready to snap his strained shirt, and the otter lost his train of thought.
Whatever the workout of the day was like, however, it always ended the same way. The gym was an oasis of health-consciousness, as it was located on a strip mall where practically every other venue was a food venue, almost all of it fast food. There was enough of them that Friday was able to sample a new one day after day, and, combined with the otter’s insistence that he use the same protein powder and supplements Jake used, the result was not what he expected, but would be obvious to anyone that had a basic understanding of how bulking works.
When enough time passed, Friday had to admit that his attempts to workout had gone askew. His plan to rush himself back to his old size had indeed packed on the pounds, but it was almost all fat. He was, perhaps, a little stronger, but whatever muscle he had built up was buried under a thick layer of blubber. The otter’s belly spilled over his strained waistband, now swollen to a small hill of blubber. His hips were on the verge of going wider than his stubby legs, chunky thighs rolling off of each other. His arms were definitely thicker, but where he was hoping to find iron-clad swollen biceps, there were rings of lard that jiggled if he moved his arms too fast. His distinctive lock-shaped blonde mark was distorted and partially obscured by his doughy, saggy chest and his multiple chins. He had exploded in weight, nearly doubling in size since he tried getting into shape.
Friday huffed, his round, cherubic cheeks billowing as he tried to catch his breath as he plodded along at a snail’s pace on the treadmill. It had been a couple of minutes.
“Alright, come on, champ,” Jake patted the otter on the shoulder, steadying him as he turned off the treadmill. “That’s enough for today.”
“Oh, thank God,” the otter wheezed. “I was so tired after today. We had a bit of a snafu at the office.” His job at a local tech company wasn’t so bad. He had adjusted pretty well, and he even seemed a little popular. If the break room fridge ever needed cleaning out, his co-workers knew who to come to.
“Hey, that’s no problem. You’re doing great. You’ve not missed one workout, so, why don’t I treat you to a special dinner, hm? Over at my place.” Jake turned Friday around, his beefy pecs and diamond-cut abs a few inches from the otter’s face. “It’ll be my fried fish filet.”
“...Battered in butter?” Friday asked quietly, a little distracted by the gila monster’s vast, wall-like torso.
“Just for you,” Jake grinned.
The mustelid was whisked away to Jake’s apartment for the promised dinner. The reptile cooked up a massive amount of fish, tempting Friday with the tantalizing smell. He seated the doughy otter on the sofa, sitting opposite him with the plate laden with fried fish. “You know…” Jake rolled his mountainous shoulders, draping his titanic arm over Friday’s shoulders and tugging him close. “I still think you’re awfully cute.”
“No, I’m not…” Friday blushed, then grabbed a fistful of fat, jiggling his vast middle that rippled like ocean waves. “You, you look great. I’m just a tub of lard.”
Jake smirked, holding up a piece of fried fish and feeding it to Friday. “I’ve got to admit, I’ve always had a thing for you. And since you started working out, I think you’ve gotten even cuter.”
“But I haven’t even lost weight or—” Friday was cut-off with another piece of fish was pushed into his mouth.
“Maybe I think you look better with a little extra heft.” Jake grinned, flexing his free arm. His bicep swelled up, almost scraping against his clenched fist. “Don’t you think I look good with even more bulk?”
“Well… yes…” Friday cleared his throat.
“Then maybe you look better with it, too. Haven’t you been having fun? You got an easy job, friends, you get to eat good food every day…”
“I know, but I swear that I used to be… different.”
“Well,” Jake pulled him closer, Friday’s belly squishing against his rippling torso. “Maybe it’s better this way. Oh, y’know…” Jake reached down to his rippling quads, snapping the waistband of his green shorts. “I never thanked you for loaning me your shorts.”
Friday’s eyes bulged. “Wait, what? You mean I really was—” He was cut off as another piece of fish was shoved into his mouth.
“Shhh,” Jake rumbled, muscle rippling against Friday’s blubbery body. He caressed the otter’s love handles, squeezing and pinching at his soft, plush sides. “You’re comfortable now, right? You don’t have to do all that hard work anymore, maintaining a body like this.” He paused to tense his arms as he wrapped them around Friday’s body, biceps digging into his soft sides. “And I just want to help you with that. I’ve taken care of everything.”
Friday shook his head. “B-but how did you…?”
Jake grinned. “Don’t worry about it. Do you want to keep talking, or did you want to finish your fish?”
Friday rested a hand on the crest of his vast belly, and looked longingly at the buttery fried meal. “...I’ll finish the fish.” The otter leaned back on the couch, the furniture creaking ominously with all that weight piled on. The gila monster grinned, leaning over him to finish feeding him. Friday chewed slowly, savoring the flavor. There were definitely worse ways to live, after all...
Category Story / Fat Furs
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 141.6 kB
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