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When the neighbouring houses got broken into three times over the past couple of weeks, Shannon thought it was ideal to invest in some security.
She thought that a guard dog would be the best option to suit her needs, but she didn't have the patience or the time to care for a pet at the moment, so the next best thing was to hire a security guard from the anthropomorphic agency. According to the agency's webpage, they had people capable of a wide number of things, from home renovations to legal help to personal chefs, and Shannon allowed herself to be lost in the surprising number of skills and talents you could rent.
After a whole week of contemplation and two days' worth of scrolling through candidates, she settled on Leon, a tall, broad-shouldered hybrid with sharp canines, German Shepard ears, a long, successful track record and a reasonable fee. There was a part of her that felt a little strange, hiring people to live in her home, but if it meant that she could be even a little bit safer, it was worth it.
Leon arrived the next day, and her first thought was that the agency's profile had deceptively undersold him. His shaggy hair was coffee brown, and his eyes were grey like steel, and he had a soft, fuzzy layer of chestnut and toffee fur across his face, arms and legs. Underneath his skin-tight uniform, she could see that he had washboard abs, a six-pack that any bodybuilder would strive for, and most would drool over. When she opened the door to let him into her house, his expression was bored and indifferent.
"Oh," she blinked, surprised. He wasn't her parcel. "That was quick."
He raised an eyebrow at her. His face was chiselled, with a strong jaw, high cheekbones and a crooked nose that looked like it had been broken a time or two. "I'm Leon, from the agency. You ordered security?"
"Yeah, I know who you are. I just didn't expect you so soon," Shannon stepped aside and opened the door wider for Leon to enter. "Come in, get yourself settled."
"How many doors and windows does this place have?" Leon said as he entered and immediately began inspecting the framework of her house.
"Uh," Shannon blinked, a little stupidly. It was the first time she had gotten a look at his bushy brown tail. "A front door, a back door, and a door that exits to the side of the house where I hang my laundry. I don't really make it a habit to count my windows, though. You can take a look around if you want."
"And I assume I have a room?" Leon said, already walking away.
"Yeah, the spare room already has linens and stuff," Shannon followed awkwardly after him. "Do you need help bringing your things in?"
That made Leon pause his inspection, and for the first time since arriving, he turned to give her his full attention. His eyes raked her up and down, taking in her dishevelled appearance and her blushing cheeks, and a small smile flickered across his face. One of his ears twitched, and Shannon forced herself not to look at it. "I'm fine, thank you," he said kindly. "Don't worry about me, just go about your day as if I'm not even here. I'm just going to do an inspection of the property to know what to look out for, and then I'll get settled."
"Uh, no worries," Shannon agreed. Leon gave her one last look before he nodded and continued down the hallway, most likely towards the laundry door.
She stared after his retreating back for a moment before she took a deep breath and turned on her heel to return to where she was channel surfing and scrolling on her laptop. She settled in against the cushions and landed on a random cooking competition before she returned to her laptop. As she listened to Leon mutter to himself and inspect her home, she realised that she actually didn't know anything about hybrids. She went to school with a cat-hybrid, but she moved away when they were still children, and that was the last she had thought about it, even though hybrids were more common and easier to find these days than a good cup of coffee. Maybe she should learn a little bit about the person who was going to be living in her house and supposedly keeping her safe.
There was a lot of conflicting and most likely false information all over the web, but eventually, she came across an article that looked vaguely academic and useful and skimmed it while Leon continued to test the integrity of her house, rattling the door handles, testing the window locks, and other such things. She skipped past the sections about bird-hybrids, rabbit-hybrids and fox-hybrids, although she did linger on cat-hybrids for a moment when she caught the word 'catnip' before she reached the dog-hybrids section. It was important to note, the article read, that hybrids were both human and animal. There was a fine line between the two that must be straddled for a good relationship. What stood out to her most was that, unlike other hybrids, canines craved and responded well to certain kinds of foods, and they made treats specifically for them, ones that were 'guaranteed' to improve their mood, behaviour and cognitive development. Shannon wondered if she should buy some for Leon. The agency website said that there was no need to tip their agents, but Shannon felt weird that this guy was living in her house and protecting her and all he got for it was the lump sum she paid at the very beginning.
That night, after Leon had completed his scan of the house and its weaknesses and Shannon was cooking dinner, she learned that he was a lot less standoffish when he had eaten a good meal and that he typically ate rabbit food, like salads and fruit.
"Uh, I don't mean to be insensitive," Shannon tried over her forkful of spaghetti. "But do you have any dietary needs that I should account for while cooking? Are there certain foods I should avoid or cook more often?"
Leon looked surprised at the idea that she would be willing to go out of her way to cook special meals for him. It made her wonder the kind of people who had hired him before her, the way he had been treated, what he had been asked to do. It would have made sense with the way he acted on the first day and the way he softened slightly after she offered to help him get his room set up to his liking. Maybe this was going to be easier than she thought if she could keep putting that surprisingly pleased look on his face. He was easier to read than most people anyway, with a tail that gave away his every emotion. "I don't eat very much, so don't change your habits because of me."
"You live here too, now. As a guest, maybe, but forever long you stay here, I want you to be comfortable," she insisted. "If there is something you need or something you want me to stop, then just ask."
"Thank you," he smiled. "Actually, I was gearing up to ask for the wifi password, but I thought that might be too forward."
Shannon laughed, feeling lighter than she had all day, and went to get it for him.
It was at the end of the week, a full six days after Leon arrived in her home and slowly began to integrate himself into her days, that she ventured into the hybrid section of the grocery store. She didn't spend much time here- why would she? She never had any need!- and was totally overwhelmed by all the choices. How was she ever supposed to figure out what to get? Eventually, after a good ten minutes of contemplating and comparing, she settled on a soft cookie-like treat that had a high sugar, high-calorie content. Not just because it was the cheapest option with a 'buy two get one free' sale currently on, but also because she doubted that he would be eating many. He didn't strike her as the kind of person who took the time to snack, and with his chiselled body and dedicated disposition, she wholly expected these treats to sit on her kitchen counter as more decoration than to be actually eaten. But it was the thought that counted, right?
When she got home, Leon was prowling cautiously in her backyard, and Shannon arranged her three boxes of hybrid cookies in a large glass jar that was sealed with an airtight lid. "These are for you," she explained when Leon eventually came inside for a glass of water.
He eyed the jar critically before turning his narrowed eyes to her. "That really wasn't necessary. I don't need rewards for doing my job. I might be a canine hybrid, but I'm not actually a dog."
"Of course not," Shannon was quick to agree. "But you're a guest in my home for the foreseeable future, and I wanted to make sure you felt welcomed. If it bothers you, I can return them - "
"That's alright," Leon said, maybe a little too quickly. She noticed that his eyes kept drifting towards the tall glass jar filled with cookies. He licked his lips- his ears twitched, his tail wagged slightly, but she decided not to mention it. "Thank you. I appreciate it."
"Any time," Shannon smiled. "And if you run out, just let me know and I'll buy some more."
She was relieved to note that almost immediately, the number of treats in the jaw slowly began to dwindle, so at least she knew that he was eating them. She never caught him eating any, but the number slowly lessened over the coming weeks, and already, she had needed to go out and restock her supplies. Leon didn't complain, so she could only assume that he liked the treats that she had chosen, the calorie-laden, sugar bombs in the shape of cookies, so she made the executive decision to purchase the kind with the chocolate chips as well as the regular kind.
Truth be told, they didn't see each other very often. They shared dinner each night, but Shannon was busy with work and family commitments and wasn't home as often as she would have liked. On the days she was home, Leon was checking in with the agency and would be gone all day, and would occasionally still be out when she went to bed. That didn't mean that he wasn't doing his job. She felt safer every single day, knowing that Leon was in the same space as her, even if she didn't see him. Although she knew that he was home because of the steadily decreasing supply of treats in the cookie jar.
She hadn't put any thought towards what all those treats, filled with sugar and calories, might be doing to him. She hadn't done any research beyond that first night when she had learnt about the canine-hybrid treats in the first place, and hadn't put any more thought into it. All she knew was that he enjoyed them enough for her to refill the jar multiple times a week and that he didn’t complain about them. Sometimes, she brought different flavours, just for a little treat, and those went just as quickly.
One day, she turned the corner into her kitchen, wearing her pyjamas and fluffy slippers, and froze. There, in the kitchen, with his hand literally in the cookie jar, was Leon. He had two cookies already crammed in his mouth, his cheeks bulging and his lips crusted with crumbs, and his hand riffling through the jar for more. And he looked, to put it nicely, fat. Fatter than he’d been when he’d arrived, certainly, when he was nothing but defined muscles and washboard abs that would make models and bodybuilders from magazines swoon. Now, he was soft, plump, his belly round and doughy with angry red stretchmarks zigzagging up his side. He tilted his head, and a little swell of fat bloomed from beneath his chin. Silently, she crept away and left him to his snacking.
It didn’t matter, she told herself. The fear of break-ins had subsided since the culprits had been caught, so the need for security had lessened. It made sense for him to put on a little weight now that the immediate fear of danger and his usefulness had faded. But for some reason, she couldn’t stop thinking about him and that little belly, at that lip of fat on his chin, the food crammed into his mouth, and had the strange, overwhelming urge to make him bigger. It was insane - she didn’t know anything about him other than his name, but she suddenly wanted to know his favourite food and how he would best carry his weight and how he would look with thick thighs and flabby arms and a bulging tummy that drooped over the waistband of his pants. She wanted to know it so badly that it hurt.
She had heard that in some instances of severe domestication that canine-hybrids could get a little loopy, a little house-happy, a little too used to living in warm, safe conditions and being cared for, that their minds were reduced to something akin to mere pets. She wondered if she could get him there. Somehow, Shannon thought she could.
It started small, even smaller than the treats and the cookies. It started with cooking heartier foods for meals and giving him an extra portion, an extra scoop of potatoes and an extra piece of meat and extra butter on his bread and an extra ladle of soup. She increased his portions secretly, a little bit each night, until he was eating literally double what he was eating previously, and he ate it all like a man possessed. She stated cooking his food with full cream milk instead of skim, she added extra salt and butter and oil, and added extra sugar to his coffee. And then there were the deserts – cakes and pies and brownies, cupcakes and slices and puddings. She added extra of the fattening ingredients than the recipe asked for, and she managed to get him to eat a second serving every night, even after he had gorged himself on the rest of the meal she had prepared.
Some nights, it was all he could do to waddle slowly to the couch and collapse in front of the TV, watching the news with her while he rubbed at his aching belly, his eyes half-lidded. “You know,” he joked one day, his words almost slurred. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to fatten me up.”
It was the first time either of them had mentioned it, but Shannon wasn’t sure if he was just making an observation of his new physique or if he was referencing how much food she was making for him. She still wasn’t sure if he had noticed how much weight he had really put on over these past few months. “That’s ridiculous,” she said lightly, her eyes transfixed on the tightness of his shirt across his obscenely round belly. “Where would you even get such an idea?”
His gain was not so slow after that. Day by day, he seemed to get even rounder. She had multiple jars of treats all lined up on her kitchen counter, dedicated by flavour, and she was restocking them all multiple times a week, Leon gobbling them down almost as soon as she refilled them. His chest softened substantially, and two soft mounds of flesh that she could fit in her hand swelled like breasts to rest on the bulging shelf of his gut, protruding from his body and seemingly never empty. His shirts pulled tight across it, and the lower hang of his jiggling underbelly peeked out enticingly from beneath his shirts and bulged over his waistband, no longer capable of containing him. His arms grew flabby and shook when he shovelled food to his mouth, and his fingers were fat like sausages. The tiny bloom of fat across his vanishing jawline had progressed into a full double chin that Shannon could enjoy even when he was staring straight at her, as constant and ever-present as the rest of his transformation.
The day she realised that his mind was starting to decline, Shannon felt like she had won a reward that she didn’t even know existed. He would walk into a room and forget what he was there for, would mindlessly bring food to his mouth while staring into the distance, would whine and struggle after her to paw at the front door whenever she left to buy him more food. His eyes always had this glazed quality to them, and he was happiest when he was eating, his belly full and his mouth occupied and his hands reaching for more food.
His gut was always so stuffed that it was a wonder he could fit any more in him, and every single part of him jiggled when he moved. He could barely see past his moobs, the heavy, sagging breasts that obscured his vision to his toes. His thighs and ass overflowed all her chairs, and his double chin was starting to progress into a triple. His drooping, wobbling underbelly was always on display, and his belly button was stretched and cavernous. He waddled when he walked, his gait less of a stride and more of a stumbling sway, and if he wasn’t eating, he was rubbing his hands over his belly and mindlessly playing with his fat. He needed Shannon’s help to get dressed, to remind him to wash himself, but never, never, never to eat. She had once hired him to protect her, what felt like a lifetime ago now, but these days he needed her like he needed the food he filled himself with, his life totally revolving around her presence.
It was pathetically easy to quit his job at the security company. He hadn’t clocked in for about a year, and they were practically waiting for a reason to fire him, so the electronic resignation she sent in was approved almost immediately, and then that was it. He was no longer a security guard staying in her home for safety, but her roommate, her fattened pet that she could keep forever. She changed her work hours to be from home, and that was that.
“Shannon,” Leon whined, curled up on the couch. He was barely dressed these days, and all his soft fat and endlessly indulgent rolls were always on display, his constant jiggling and wobbling and trembling of his adipose rippling hypnotically. “Is it time for dinner yet?”
“Dinner?” Shannon laughed. She reached over and grabbed a fistful of his belly fat, and he whined pathetically in the back of his throat, his chubby tail waggling desperately where it was pinned between his fat ass and the couch. When she shook it, his entire body wobbled. “You can’t still be hungry. We just ate lunch.”
“It was so long ago!” Leon whined, crawling forwards, his gut hanging low enough to brush against the couch cushions, and flopped onto his back on her lap, staring up at her with baleful eyes. His cheeks were always flushed, his plump lips pouted. “I’m hungry now.”
It was always shocking just how quickly his mind and body had both degenerated. When they had first met, he was at the peak of his mental and physical fitness, skilled and competent and reliable, someone that Shannon would have in her home and feel safe in his presence, trusting that he would protect her. Now, he was nothing more than a spoiled lap dog, a fat pet that she dotted on every minute of the day, barely having enough thoughts in his head to care for himself. He had a perpetually dull, glazed expression, his tongue lolling and his tail wagging and his ears twitching, more canine than he probably knew. As he grew and grew, he got dumber and dumber, until he was little more than the puppy dog that he had once tried so hard to convince her he wasn’t. But she knew. She always knew, deep down, that this was what he was.
“OK, OK,” Shannon laughed. She reached into the box at her side and pulled out a fistful of treats, and she watched his face light up as she placed them one by one into his mouth. “Don’t worry, baby, you won’t be hungry for long.”
As Leon ate, gobbling the treats hungrily as he strived to fill his bottomless pit of a gut, desperate to keep himself excessively stuffed, Shannon stroked his ever-growing belly and couldn’t wait to make him even dumber and even fatter. She had plenty of time to buy him more treats, and he had all the time in the world to eat them.