“In Zootopia, Officer Judy Hopps accepts an undercover mission to expose a criminal organization. But what appears to be the climax of her operation spirals into an uncontrollable transformation.”

This story was inspired by this picture ^w^. Please go and send your love the the artist :3
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/59968569/

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“Undercover Bunny”
by Bynnie-JackalopeBeneath the city of Zootopia, a carefully woven network of illicit organizations was quietly expanding. It was in this context that Officer Judy Hopps accepted an infiltration mission as an undercover agent in one of those criminal groups, comprised primarily of small animals. This detail facilitated her natural entry into the circle.
With a knack for socializing and an appearance that didn't arouse suspicion, Judy quickly integrated into the group. The organization's structure seemed erratic, but the coordination among its members was precise and effective.
Tonight was different. An exclusive invitation had summoned her to an elegant dinner at a high-end restaurant, where the "new product" of the sponsor who backed the group from the shadows would be presented.
Judy had prepared herself, wearing a fitted, sky-blue dress that was simple yet refined. Hidden in her ear was a tiny microphone connected to a direct line to her colleagues at the ZPD. If all went according to plan, they would publicly reveal the sponsor's identity and the "new product" during dinner, giving the signal for agents to storm in and shut down the place.
The reception was elegant. Everyone present wore suits and evening gowns, and conversations flowed. Judy was led to one of the few individual tables in the room, situated next to a large window that overlooked the city lights. Music filled the space with a slow, melodic tune.
Sitting alone, watching the rest of the event’s attendees, Judy waited. The room fell silent, and all eyes turned when a figure stepped up onto the small, ornate stage at the front of the hall.
It was a white-furred mountain goat, dressed in a modest ivory-colored suit.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said in a firm, clear voice, “tonight marks the beginning of a new era—a profound transformation for all of us and Zootopia. You have been selected because each of you embodies the vision of the future this group has been building.”
As the speech continued, the servers—most of them small mustelids—began moving among the tables, carrying trays of food. The covers were lifted, revealing generous portions of exquisite dishes that steamed invitingly. Judy watched with a faint look of interest as her plate was set down. It looked delicious.
“This evening is not only to celebrate our progress,” the goat announced, raising his voice. “Our anonymous benefactor has brought a new product with which they intend to turn this society on its head. And tonight, it will not only be unveiled but also put to the test—here, before your very eyes.”
An excited murmur rippled through the room.
“But before that,” said the goat, a smile curling his lips, “I ask you to enjoy your dinner—for this will be a night to remember.”
The servers poured wine into the glasses, and Judy held hers, her eyes shifting with unease. She couldn’t allow an innocent citizen to be used as a guinea pig for whatever unsettling plans this group of lunatics had in mind. She was ready to give the signal through her earpiece as soon as the mysterious benefactor appeared.
Judy looked down at her plate with a mix of anticipation and focus. The food looked even more enticing now that it was right in front of her. She took the first bite, letting the blend of flavors melt on her tongue. There was a depth to it—each ingredient chosen to fit into a symphony of incredible tastes.
As she kept eating, bite after bite, Judy found herself intrigued. There was something about the food that was absorbing—addictive, as if each mouthful pulled her more urgently toward the next. She told herself, (It’s just because I skipped lunch, and this food is amazing.) But there was something else—a gentle warmth was beginning to spread from her stomach up toward her chest.
When she felt that strange sensation, she thought, (I have to give the signal—something’s happening.) She raised her paw toward her ear to touch the earpiece, but her hand never reached the transmitter. The fork found its way back to her mouth without her realizing, and then again and again.
Before long, she had emptied her plate, staring at it in confusion—her stomach still growled with hunger, an aching, uncomfortable emptiness. Her tongue swept over the fork, licking the last trace of sauce.
“Excuse me…” she said to the nearest waiter—a young fennec fox—“could you bring me another serving? Please.”
“At once, miss,” he replied, giving a slight bow before heading toward the kitchen.
Judy took a sip of wine to steady herself; her pulse was a little faster than normal. The liquid slid down her throat, but nothing changed—the feeling of hunger persisted. No, it didn’t just persist; it was growing.
She crossed her legs restlessly, her feet tapping lightly against the floor beneath the table. (What’s happening to me?) she thought, biting her lip. She had never felt like this before.
Finally, the waiter returned with another plate of food, and this time Judy leaned toward him, pressing a paw firmly against his arm.
“I’m sorry…” she whispered with a strained smile. “Would it be possible for you… to bring me another one? An extra—just for later,” she added timidly.
The fennec fox nodded and turned back toward the kitchen. Judy looked down at her new plate of food. The moment the aroma reached her, she could no longer think clearly—she just wanted to eat.
Despite the burning desire in her stomach, she picked up her fork delicately, cutting small bites and bringing them to her mouth. But with each mouthful, that calm unraveled. The flavors were even more intense this time—hypnotic, tickling at her very soul—while saliva pooled in her mouth.
Her hands began to tremble. Protocol and etiquette became an obstacle. Her fingers clutched the fork tightly, moving with impatience. She chewed faster, the bites growing larger, until soon she stopped cutting altogether and took whole chunks, one after another. The juices of the food dripped down the corner of her mouth, staining her lips and her dress.
When the plate was clean once more, Judy let out a sigh and leaned back in her chair. But when she glanced down, she froze. The fabric of her dress now traced a slight curve forward—her belly was distended with food. There was no way she could have gained that much in such a short time.
(This isn’t right,) she thought, reaching toward her ear. But she never managed to activate the transmitter, because, at that exact moment, the waiter returned—with five plates of food, setting them neatly in front of her. Judy turned her head toward him, her expression baffled.
“I’m sorry, I… I didn’t order this much,” she murmured, looking back at him.
But the fennec fox had already melted away into the crowd, ignoring her. Judy’s hand hovered in the air, ready to call for help—but she lowered it and picked up her fork instead. She couldn’t resist. The aroma, the texture, the urgency, and the need to EAT were too strong.
The food on the plate vanished into her mouth like water into dry earth. Then the second plate. Then a third, without pause. Her pace quickened, and she no longer bothered to savor the taste—she just wanted more.
The edge of her dress began to cling even tighter against her torso. The stretched seams traced the new curves that were starting to form. The small swell of her belly had grown larger. Her hips had widened slightly over the chair, parting her legs without her noticing. A bead of sweat slid down her forehead.
But she didn’t notice, thinking, (“I’m not full.” I’m still hungry. I can’t stop.)
And as her cheeks began to puff subtly and her belly pushed out even farther, Judy ate without respite. Her body was slowly thickening, like a balloon being filled. The hall fell silent again when the host’s voice rang out once more from the stage.
“I regret to inform you that our esteemed benefactor will not be joining us this evening,” he announced calmly. “Unforeseen circumstances have required their attention elsewhere. However, all is not lost—this evening will still be memorable. Now is the perfect time to demonstrate the effectiveness of the new product.”
A murmur spread among the guests, filled with anticipation. The goat raised a hand and gestured discreetly toward the side of the hall.
“I must ask you to turn your attention to the rabbit in the blue dress.”
A warm light shone down onto Judy’s table. She froze for a moment, eyes wide in surprise, fork suspended in midair. All heads turned toward her. But neither shame nor confusion could compete with the hunger that ruled her body.
Her arm moved again, clumsily shoving the fork into her mouth. Bite by bite, the food disappeared, consumed with desperation at a pace that grew faster with each passing second. Her stomach visibly rose against the edge of the table, still expanding.
“And it seems,” the goat continued with a soft smile, “that tonight we have an unexpected guest sent by the Zootopia Police Department.”
A surprised murmur rippled through the audience as they looked at Judy.
“Our undercover officer, as you can see, has had the honor of becoming the first public demonstration of our benefactor’s new product. And, from what we observe, the drug is already working with absolute efficiency.”
Each revelation hit Judy like a sharp blow. Her cover was blown, her mission had failed—and still she could not move, could not speak, could not stop eating. Her mind had been reduced to a single, burning core of thought: (hunger. Must eat. I can’t stop. I can’t.)
The fork clattered onto the plate as, without thinking, Judy brought both hands to the tray and began eating with her paws. Sauce smeared the fur around her muzzle, and grease dripped down her cheeks, staining the strained neckline of her dress—its seams beginning to give way.
The plates on her table were nearly empty, but not for long. One, two, three waiters approached, clearing away the dirty dishes and replacing them with new trays piled high with double portions. Judy barely noticed them—her body was already moving her hands, driven by sheer impulse, toward more food.
Her cheeks grew rounder, a soft chin-roll forming beneath her jaw, trembling with every swallow. Her bulging belly rose, stretching the fabric over her navel until it left a damp spot where the dress could no longer contain her. Her hips spilled over the sides of the wooden seat, making the backrest creak each time she shifted to accommodate her growing mass.
Her rear, swollen like two water balloons, expanded without restraint, distorting the dress’s fabric until it hung over the edges of the chair. Sweat beaded along her back, yet she kept chewing—chewing with her muzzle full, her eyes glassy, and her hands smeared.
Judy Hopps was growing before everyone’s eyes—fattening with every passing second. And though she knew she was trapped, humiliated, and exposed, her body understood none of it. It obeyed only one command:
EAT.
Her belly, round and heavy, jutted out like a beach ball, pressing against the table’s edge until it tilted. It sagged past her waist, hanging between her legs, pushing her thick, lard-filled thighs apart. Every movement sent her body quivering like jello. Her rear had become two massive doughy mounds, squeezed tight against the chair’s arms, which groaned ominously.
Her neck had vanished entirely, the fold beneath her chin blending seamlessly into her jowls, burying her jaw beneath a swaying layer of flesh with every chew. Her arms felt heavy, sluggish, and clumsy—like lead. Her swollen fingers clutched chunks of food awkwardly, crushing them before shoving them into her muzzle. Her face was a shadow of what it had been—thick, bloated cheeks rising so high they intruded into the edges of her vision. She could barely see the farthest points of her view.
From the stage, the mountain goat watched the spectacle with utter composure.
“As you can see,” the goat declared, “the effects are intense… though temporary. And this, ladies and gentlemen, is what will transform Zootopia—total control. Complete submission of the body. An external agent that erases willpower and replaces it with need. With this formula, we will alter the very structure of order itself.”
Applause erupted immediately—enthusiastic and animated at such a brilliant, shocking display.
Meanwhile, Judy—unable to make any sound beyond the wet echoes of her chewing—was sinking deeper into herself. Her mind, trapped, searched desperately for an escape. Her body continued to absorb everything she fed it, swelling, expanding, and surrendering to a gluttonous appetite. She no longer felt like a rabbit—she was a shapeless mass of lard.
And yet her mouth didn’t stop.
Because she was still hungry.

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