The Beholder's Eye

“I would just like to say I completely told you so.”

Jonathan’s Cheshire grin greeted Sandra as he and just about everyone else on campus stepped outside the last class for the semester. A crisp breeze toyed with a few strands of the fox-boy’s brown hair while he shivered and his tail bristled. The sight was kind of amusing to Sandra, her lover zipping up an oversized jacket and rubbing his arms while she stood there comfortably, her silver coat better acclimated to the weather. The matching parka she wore provided the adequate buffer to ignore the chill wind, a playful smirk dancing upon her lips as Jonathan got to her side. A warm kiss was exchanged without a care for how many people could see. But as she pulled away, Sandra’s wolf ears perked up, catching bits of insults from others leaving for Christmas.

“…maybe they should put up a sign. Warning: cattle may be obstructing the road…”

“I’m telling you, she was freaking Playboy material no more than four months ago…”

“…probably doesn’t even need that coat…”

The wolfess’ ears drooped, her eyes following suit to linger over the details she knew, even with the jacket hiding them. Sure, she’d wanted it. A fantasy since her mid-teens, and a bound and determined goal for the past few months. But the way people talked about her, acting as though she couldn’t hear them never failed to be disheartening. The nastiest she’d ever been to people was only if they tried hitting on Jonathan. But nothing she’d done warranted the snide remarks or the harsh judgment.

“Ignore them.” Her lover wrapped her in a hug, his tail swishing around to his side and entwining with hers as he planted another kiss on her cheek. “They wouldn’t understand. This is what you want to be, and nothing should change that except you. Although, I dare say that it was going toe to toe with Miss Hart that motivated you to pursue this. And I’ll admit, the extra curves are… alluring.”

“Sweet-talker.” Sandra gave him a playful push, turning about and lightly brushing his face with her tail, “You always know just what to say to cheer-“

“Oi, watch yer step, beasty.” A distinct British accent issued from a figure clad in jeans and leather jacket. Dorian Steel, resident punk and bully made no hesitation to let one of many slurs in his repertoire loose as the wolf girl was knocked to the ground. “Then again, maybe ya would if you could see yer own feet.”

“Dorian, still haven’t gotten the hang of tact, I see.” Jonathan maintained a flat tone as he pulled Sandra to her feet, keeping one arm about her waist to stop her from doing anything rash. “How many classes did you fail this semester, I wonder? Nine?”

“Shut yer gob, dog.” The rude Brit made a point of spitting in disgust before drawing a cigarette out of a pack, “Passed ‘em all, ‘cause you lot of half-breeds force ‘em to lower the standards.”

Jonathan looked nonplussed at the continued insults, his knuckles going white trying to maintain a grip on Sandra so she wouldn’t pummel him on the spot. He shook his head slightly in her direction before returning his focus to Dorian and said, “Need a light?”

Dorian paused his rummaging about through his pockets, glancing out the corner of his eye to see a lighter held out and ignited. The wind pushed the flame about as Dorian leaned in, not even bothering to remove the tobacco product from between his teeth.

“It’s funny, isn’t it?” A spiteful, manic grin flashed across Jonathan’s otherwise placid expression as the tip of the cigarette caught, “Because this dog, this… half-breed, is at the top of the class. Now what does that say about you?”

“Don’t you get smug with m-augh! What the bloody hell!”

Dorian jerked backwards as the fur collar joined his cigarette in conflagration, forcing him to cast it off into the snow, the flames working their way onto the interior fun lining as Jonathan and Sandra went from a standstill to full sprint in less than a second, leaving the bully standing there, spewing a string of obscenities behind them in just a Union Jack print tank top.

---

“Why didn’t you just let me beat the crap out of him?”

Both of them slowed to a walk as they encroached upon the forest around their home. Surprisingly, Jonathan was the only one panting for breath in the frigid air.

“Because… physical force isn’t a unique attribute. Pyrokinesis, on the other hand…” Jonathan felt that keeping his grandfather’s old military jacket on might not have been the best idea as the sweat under the jacket began to cool. Taking a stabilizing breath, he righted himself and followed a few steps behind his canid girlfriend. “And I’ve got to ask; how on earth do you not break into a sweat with all that running?”

“Well, my genes were from wolves from colder climates.” Sandra turned her direct attention back towards Jonathan, barely catching him mesmerized by her rhythmic wobble. Getting side by side with him, Sandra unzipped her jacket, allowing her stomach to bulge out a bit, pulling her deep red shirt taut. She let her hand caress Jonathan’s face, brushing by a few of his earthen bangs before pulling him into yet another kiss. It felt like something out of a romance novel, the two of them sharing a kiss in the middle of the woods in winter.

Jonathan pulled away after what felt like a blissful eternity, shivering more than before as snow began to fall. Sandra took his distraction as an opportunity to guide one of his hands to the prominent muffin-top created by her jeans. Giving his side a comparative squeeze, she said, “Why? Jealous? I could always help you get a bit of a winter coat, if you’d like.”

Jonathan looked a bit taken aback, honestly contemplating the offer. He knew that Sandra had a fascination with being heftier herself, but he couldn’t tell if this was just curiosity about how it would feel for her, or if this was a fetish he didn’t already know about. To him, Sandra was perfect however she was, as long as she was happy with herself. And he couldn’t deny that he loved the extra softness to her, especially with how warm it kept her.

“Could I think about it overnight?” The slight flattening of her ears and the cessation of her tail’s wagging did not escape Jonathan’s notice, making her feelings clear enough. “I’m not saying no, love. I just need to be sure that I’d want to go through with it.”

---

The digital clock glowed a dull green 2205, shifting to a 2206 at a blink. Jonathan turned his head to the ceiling, glancing over at Sandra’s sleeping form before an uncertain sigh escaped his lips. After they’d gotten home, Sandra seemed more than a little sullen about his delay. It didn’t stop their evening from carrying on normally for the most part, but her regular affection seemed considerably less than usual. At least her subconscious wasn’t mad at him, evidenced by the fact that not even ten minutes after falling asleep her arms had worked their way around him and pulled him into her well-padded embrace. Giving her plush belly a gentle rub, Jonathan could hear the quiet thumping behind her telling him he was doing a good job.

“Ah hell, what’s the harm?” Jonathan muttered as he carefully pried himself loose, rolling off the bed and sneaking his way downstairs. “At worst, I don’t like it, and I just work it off.”

The freezer in the garage was the first target, holding several boxes of cookies, three dozen apiece. Grabbing two containers, the fox tip-toed back into the kitchen, pulling out a plate for the microwave and arranging twelve of the morsels on the ceramic surface. Less than a minute thawing was enough to restore the treats from frozen and stiff to gooey, melt-in-your-mouth delights. Taking a bite of one, Jonathan savored the sweet dough and butterscotch chips melted in, and proceeded to grab another plate to heat the next dozen while he went to work on the first batch.

Bite after bite, caramel swirl, chocolate, peanut butter and butterscotch alike, disappeared into Jonathan’s maw, faintly impressing upon his light blue hoodie and sweatpants at best. Leaning back on the wooden chair with a subtle groan, Jonathan began to place the last of the cookies from the first box on to the plate he just cleared, setting them up to receive the same treatment their predecessors just had. If everything Sandra cooked did this much to him, Jonathan probably wouldn’t have a difficult time getting to wherever she wanted him. With an inhale of determination, which only served to push the vulpine human’s belly a bit further, he leaned back forward to begin devouring the second plate set for him.

The microwave beeped loudly after the twenty-first cookie, startling Jonathan slightly as he realized that he didn’t pay attention to avoid possibly waking Sandra up. He yanked the door open as quietly as possible before it began its second series of beeps, retrieving the last group from box one while keeping his ears sharp in case Sandra was woken. After a tense moment, hoping that his surprise for her wouldn’t be ruined, Jonathan stepped back to his chair, setting the fresh plate down before taking a seat. As the last three from dozen two vanished into his now lightly bulging belly, he could feel the waistband on his gray sweats sliding down a little while his azure hoodie and white shirt just barely rode up.

Just the third plate remained for tonight. Jonathan accepted that he’d underestimated his lover’s cooking for its potential to be filling, and that he’d have to stop at half his expectation. After moving the spare back into the freezer, he grabbed a larger glass of chocolate milk to wash down some of the extra crumbs before taking his seat again. Just as he began to settle, his heart skipped a beat, the chair making an all-too-audible groan under the extra weight settled in his paunch. Jonathan winced, a clear expression reading, “Ah, crap,” as he heard Sandra get out of bed to check on what made the noise.

“Jon, what’re you d-“ Sandra’s still half-asleep voice caught in her throat as her eyes fell upon him reclining in one of the kitchen chairs, his normally baggy clothes he wore to sleep stretched to exposing the beginning of a belly. A heavy blush set upon his face, knowing he’d been caught red-handed.

“I-I thought it would be a pleasant surprise,” Jonathan was getting an idea of how Sandra must have felt earlier outside the college, although the wordless staring was not preferable to anything being said at all. “You seemed a bit down after some of the things others said earlier, and then with Dorian being an ass… Well, the point is, I thought this might cheer you up, and I know how you love surprises, so-“

“Shush. Don’t get all wordy on me.” The faint glow of the clocks in the kitchen illuminated just enough for Jonathan to see the extremely pleased look on Sandra’s face as she helped him back to his feet. Her softer stomach gave and shaped around his own, stuffed as it was, while she brought him into a tender hug, her head resting on his shoulder while a couple fingers idly traced random patterns on the taut surface.

“But…” Sandra allowed her tracing fingers to turn Jonathan’s chin, bringing him in for a little kiss. “You could always just scrap the surprise, and let someone who knows what they’re doing help get you started. For example: wooden chairs? Not comfortable. Let’s fix that.”

Sandra kept her eye on him while walking ahead, making sure that he didn’t accidentally stuff himself into a late onset stupor. If anything, Jonathan had done the exact opposite to himself. With his stomach packed as tightly as it was, he was painfully aware of just how full he felt, and had to focus on everything around him just to take his mind off the discomfort. Of course, that focus led him to note that Sandra was leading him to “her” room. To elaborate, it was hers in terms of décor decisions, as well as her personal workshop and testing area for any new devices she designed.

For once, it was remarkably clean in there. All the tools were put up, blueprints rolled up and tucked away along with any spare bits and bobs. Against one rosy wall was the obvious destination Sandra had in mind for Jonathan; it was the teal couch she’d made just over a year ago, and was honestly the plushest seating he’d ever experienced. The TV set up just a few feet in front of it made for an excellent viewing experience; one the generator system right behind it could be ignored. A gentle push had Jonathan sinking into the cushions, going slightly red in the face from both the impact of his bloated middle on his legs, and the realization that it stretched about halfway to his knees.

Sandra sank well over an inch farther down in the cushion to his left, the red fabric clinging to the contour of her midriff almost completely concealing her earthen sleep-shorts. After setting an episode of “Professor When” to play, she began to lean her considerably softer bulk on to Jonathan’s side, resting one doughy arm over his belly while the other wrapped around behind him for a hug.

“So, I ta-mmph take it the secrecy is forgiven?” Jonathan stifled a burp from the gently applied pressure, trying not to squirm from some of Sandra’s weight pressing on him.

“Yes, but next time, don’t start the fun without me.” Sandra looked extremely content, a little smile resting just the vaguest hint of a double-chin, “Since you also wasted a lot of space in there with solids, and they weren’t even that good for gaining weight. I’ll let it go for tonight. But tomorrow, I’ll make sure that we get every cubic millimeter filled.”
“Any other good recommendations for these sessions?”

“Just one. I couldn’t really test it out on myself, but I’m confident it’ll be very effective for enjoyment purposes.” Sandra shifted herself a little bit closer while Jonathan’s expression showed clear confusion. Her hands slid in small circles, occasionally stopping to knead his skin a bit. “I call it a big belly rub, just for my big foxy boy.”