Gulliver sighed as he nursed his “diet” breakfast milkshake, the 5th of the morning as prescribed by Dr. Toner. He had barely left the bed in the last few days, venturing out only to get what meals the doctor had ordered. He had once believed that sticking strictly to the diet would slim his figure a little.

The foolish hybrid had indeed realized by now that the good doctor husky was not so great with diets. Instead of slimming, his frame had ballooned. His belly arched out in front of him, a soft pile of adipose that stretched a bit beyond his reach. It was cradled by his immense thighs, so huge and soft they rivaled his old waistline in girth and sported a few soft creases here and there. Still, as he took another sip, he swore he could feel that subtle prickly tingle of expansion after every gulp.