Shock and awe, I know! I refrained from making a silly or alliterative title.

Some characters of mine, that a friend helped first wrote up for me and whose story I should post, are finally getting their time in the spotlight! Thanks to the utterly amazing and immensely talented !

---

“You already know what I’m going to say, Ferd.”

The Shiba Inu sighed. His doughy fingers, soft to the touch, clutched at the sides of his heaving stomach. Gurgling noisily, it pressed down on his unbuttoned denim waistline.

Emily nestled back into the hill sized wrinkles jutting out from her bountiful boyfriend’s bed sheets. “You’re the only who can decide that this is something to be ashamed of,” she said.

Ferd’s zipper noisily unfurled itself as his gut came to hang over his crotch like an apron. Biting down into his lip, he fidgeted with the folds of flab pinched between his chafing digits.

“Ferd, please! You’re becoming a shut-in, hon! This isn’t healthy and you know it.”

The Shiba tossed his arms, thick and swollen, out to his sides. With a pronounced clap they came back to rest against his moobs and love handles. Ripples of chub cascaded across his obese frame in response. “I know. I know, I know, I know,” he whined.

“Then what?” Knees pulled up to her chest, the Doberman rested her chin atop them.

Brows furrowed, Ferd peered down at Emily. “You... you know!”

Emily tossed her head back and groaned. The sloping fabric propped up behind her deflated as a result. “Oh my god! You’re still going on about your wardrobe!?”

Grunting, Ferd’s curled tail tucked between his thunder shaming thighs.

“Do you even remember what I wore yesterday?” Emily asked.

“…Nooooo,” Ferd pouted as he tucked his chin against his soft chest.

The Doberman held an arm out above her and swished her hand about her wrist. “And do you honestly think anyone is going to care, much less remember, what you wear outside today? That the sight of your baggy shirt, clinging tightly to your folds, is going to sear itself into everyone’s memories for time immemorial?”

“Managed to burrow its way into yours,” the Shiba answered with a huff. Arms crossed about his chest, moobs pressed together by his biceps, Ferd bashfully grumped.

She snorted. “You say that like it’s a bad thing! Besides, we both know you look better without it.”

“E-Emily!”

“You know I’m right,” the Doberman laughed. A toothy grin spread wide across her dimpled cheeks.

With a roll of his eyes, Ferd reluctantly pulled back up his zipper and buttoned his pants.

“I’m serious. That and, Ferd, you know I love spending time with you. You know I love you. But that doesn’t mean-”

“That doesn’t mean you all you ever want to do is just… hang out at my place.” His voice, thicker than molasses, pounded through Emily’s ribs. Lumbering forward, the Shiba’s bedroom quaking in tune to his seismic footfalls, he reached up towards a billboard sized shirt hanging over the industrial pipes running along the ceiling.

Ferd held the shirt out before him. “S-so. Umm.” His ample assets, jiggling, bouncing, and slapping against one another as he slid on his shirt, hypnotized the ogling Doberman. “Where’d you wanna go today?”

Emily bit her tongue. The urge to snark, to howl in exasperated relief, was nigh irresistible. She flared her nostrils, inhaled deeply, and pulled herself up off the bed sheets. “Why don’t we shoot for that mixed size café I was telling you about the other day?”

“Oh! The one in the paper?”

“Yeah!” Emily steadied her breathing. She wanted to encourage him to get out and about; not chastise him for it. Eyes half lidded, the Doberman exhaled and fished out her phone. A padded thumb swiped at the smudged touch screen. “Come to think of it…” she mumbled aloud as she flicked through her browser tabs. “Is it really still the paper if it’s all online?”

“We have a subscription to it all the same,” Ferd shrugged in response. “I uhh… I remember reading in that review you pulled up how highly recommended their muffins came.”

“Was about to ask,” she snorted. Emily dragged her thumb over her phone screen, highlighting the address of the café, and rose to her feet. The Doberman’s dainty paws failed to even dimple against the mattress as she sauntered over towards the edge of the bed. Emily watched as her swollen Shiba Inu, clad in a very form fitting undershirt that revealed his every roll, reached up for another article of clothing.

Ferd slipped his meaty arms through the constrictive sleeves of his button up shirt. He winced at how closely it hugged against his elbows and shoulders. Teeth clenched, the canine nervously regarded how his every movement audibly strained the veritable wires of dyed polyester that had been woven together.

“S-so?” The Shiba Inu turned to face his little lady. “How do I look?”

Emily pinched her chin between her fingertips and hmmed. Ferd’s shirt, a faded crimson in color, struggled to reach down to his navel. His arms, layered thick with fat and muscle, practically bulged through the sleeves. Suffice to say it was markedly, obviously, undersized. “You clean up pretty well!” she barked.

“You’re just saying that,” Ferd replied. Blushing, he advanced his towering tonnage towards his bed. Hand held out before him, puffy fingers pressed together, he presented an open palm to his girlfriend and awaited her consent.

“So maybe I am!” she giggled before nuzzling into a thumb that nearly eclipsed her in size. The Doberman planted a rich kiss on the leathery flesh that lined the Shiba Inu’s digit. “But it’s worth saying all the same. I’m proud of you, Ferd.”

She shuddered at the sound, and sensation, of her boyfriend’s reply. How his muscles creaked as they tensed beneath the layer of furred flesh that lined his fingers. How the displaced air, sent swirling by the mere movement of his fingers, washed over her like a gentle breeze. And, most importantly of all, how Ferd devoted himself so intensely to an act as delicate and restrained as stroking at her cheek.

“Thanks, Em,” Ferd bashfully thundered.

Heart pounding against the back of her ribs, the Doberman’s stumpy tail thrumming in delight, Emily climbed up into the Shiba’s grasp. “Ready when you are!” she excitedly barked. She sank, as did her stomach, into the wrinkles that lined Ferd’s palm as he lifted his petite passenger up into the air.

“Where do you want to drive from today?” he asked. Brows arched, he cupped Emily to his bosom and gently plopped a finger against her back.

“Here is good,” Emily wiggled in response.

“…Here here?” Ferd blushed as Emily sunk into his cleavage.

“Here here!” the Doberman asserted as she rolled out from under his thumb. Head tilted back, nuzzling into his pulled taut undershirt, she gazed up at the underside of Ferd’s soft chin.

Fists clenched, Ferd swallowed down the uncertainty that was welling within his throat. T-this was for her after all. He stepped forward, mindful to press his heel against the concrete floor before letting the rest of his padded sole slap against it, and sauntered out of his bedroom. “S-so! What were you thinking of getting?”

“You know I’m not really sure,” Emily hmmed. Her cheeks burned bright as she bounced between Ferd’s moobs at his every footfall. “Lemme pull up their brunch menu and I’ll let you know!”