For better or worst, my stories usually end up being too damn long. This was an attempt at writing something that is brief, well-written, and (mostly) not going to take me a full week complete. This ended up taking me roughly an hour to write, edit, and upload. And for the most part I was pleased with the result. If you all enjoy this, let me know and I'll produce more of these shorter works.

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Pawlr

It was the third guess that ended up being the correct password. Trent's phone screen darkened, then an icon of a white paw illuminated the screen. That was the icon of Pawlr, the app Trent had typically used to meet his hook-ups and future ex-boyfriends.

"Please wait...Updating app..." read the screen. No wonder. The Doberman hadn't so much as touched the app in two years. Not since the snowboarding accident, not since rehab and physical therapy, not since…

Trent looked up at himself in the bathroom mirror. Conventionally handsome and conventionally fat, the latter a recent addition due to his more sedentary lifestyle. His eyes gazed at black-furred doughy medicine ball that was his gut, then up to the waterballoon-like tits with their sad and saggy pink nipples, and back down to his belly.

"Looks like you haven't been on for a while!" the app's text read. "Please update your profile, pupdozer69!" He cringed at the dumb username he selected for himself when he first got on the app.

Trent's age, 29, had automatically been updated. His height, 6'2", naturally was the same. "Weight? flashed the app. The number 178 appeared in the screen with up and down arrows hovering around each digit.

The Doberman sighed and mashed the up arrow above the first digit once. 278, it read. "That's honest enough, right?" he thought to himself. Trent sighed once more. He hit the same up arrow again, the middle down arrow a couple times, the third down arrow several times.

344, the number now read.

Trent begrudgingly accepted. "Body type?" the app asked. Its default suggestion was Average. The Doberman rolled his eyes and searched through all of the listed polite synonyms for "fat" Pawlr offered. Chubby, Big All Over, Fluffy, Superchub, Handsome And Humongous. He settled on Chubby.

Next, the app asked about his "bedroom preferences". It still had him down as Top. He switched it to Vers. Trent was not necessarily interested in having his recently grown bubble butt penetrated, but it would mean an opened up market for any potential suitors.

A few more questions later and the app finally asked the one Trent most dreaded: "Upload new photo?" He mashed Yes and aimed his camera at the mirror. Trent took a snapshot without looking. It was a terrible photo. The image was blurred, crooked, and half of his face was visible. He deleted it and aimed the camera at the mirror again. This time, he actually looked at what the camera was seeing.

The Doberman wasn't too thrilled. For one, his chest looked droopy and shapeless. Licking a digit, Trent pinched and twisted each pink nipple. Both hardened due to the cool bathroom air and their perkiness gave his moobs the idea of definition.

Next, he focused on the expanding roll that divided his flabby chest from his belly. Trent hated that chunky bit of flab. He tucked his arms close in. This obscured the two rolls, and the Doberman was at least slightly pleased by this.

Finally, Trent rested one of his wide paws along his gut. The Doberman had been blessed with fairly large paws and could now use them to his advantage again. Spreading out the digits along his stomach, it gave the illusion that his belly was at least a little smaller than it actually was.

Tilting the camera on his phone down slightly, he kept the bottom part of his face in frame. Putting on a fake half-smile, he touched his screen and took another photo. Though Trent was anything but pleased with the porked-up pup in the image, he felt that it was good enough to post.

"Please select a profile image," the app asked. In the gallery was the photo Trent just took along with the profile photo he relied on before the accident. Back then, Trent had been proud of the abs he sported and showed every one of them off along with the shapely V of his pelvis. The old photo was fractions of an inch away from showing exposed genitalia and Trent had been shocked that the moderators allowed it.

He deleted the old photo and uploaded the new one.

That was what Trent promised to himself. He promised to restart his profile, update everything (especially his weight), and leave it. Leave his phone at home for a while, delete the app from his home screen, whatever it took so that the Doberman did not have to think about Pawlr for a while.

Curiosity got the better of Trent and he allowed himself to surf Pawlr for a few minutes. It looked just like he had left it. Hundreds of faceless torsos flooded his screen, all with ridiculous and riske usernames. Trent wasn't in the mood to slobber guys just yet.

In the bottom right-hand corner of the screen was an envelope icon to access messages. On a lark, the Doberman clicked it and it was surprised to see some of his messages had survived. The last few he had received were from bots trying to convince him to buy pills to boost performance. But he spotted a message thread from him and a user named sweet_peach7. Only the last few messages remained and, to Trent's pleasant surprise, one of them was an image sent to him just hours before his snowboarding accident. In it, a skinny white fox with a remarkable plump and shapely booty sat on his knees. The photo, snapped over his shoulder, focused on the thick rear as it spread and engulfed the ankle and heels of the fox as a bushy tail laid across the small of his back.

"Hungry?" read the caption.

Trent licked his lips and clicked on sweet_peach7's profile. He had not been active in three days. The Doberman went back to the photo and made a mental note to pull that up later in the evening when he needed some material to help him get to sleep.

And that was it for a while. Trent left his phone in his bedroom, got a carton of ice cream out of his freezer, and ate the whole thing while watching half a season of BoJack Personman.

It was only as Trent was getting ready for bed that he remembered Pawlr again. He picked up his phone and was completely shocked to see three messages.

The first was from the same bot trying to convince him to buy pills that would enhance his performance.

The second just read "Yummy Cubby!" It was from a user nearly three times Trent’s age and used a profile photo obviously shot in the 80's.

The third, much to his surprise, was from sweet_peach7.

"Hey sexy. Hadn't seen you in a while. Glad to see your back. You been okay?" it read.

Trent figured he didn't need to go to bed right away.