Foodtopia

Judy's ass quaked in the aftermath. She rolled her eyes. "Not ANOTHER one." After she looked around to make sure she was alone, she wiggled her hips left and right, mashing her destructive booty against its victim. Her weighty accomplishment made her a little hungry, so she grabbed a Boston creme from her bag.

* * * * *

The Zootopia PD gym welcomed all officers, from the smallest mouse to the tallest giraffe. Judy's sheer density, however, was something hitherto unknown to the poor, unwitting exercise equipment. Nick followed from behind, purportedly because he couldn't fit through the doorway beside her.

Really, though, they both knew that he just wanted to scope her incredible, doorway-filling, chair-crushing butt. By now, her hindquarters bloomed the full length of her legs.

Judy's fat hindpaws clapped on the gray, tile floor. She looked about at the machines, from the row of treadmills, to the alley of abdominal equipment, the aisle of arm machines, and more. Officers of any size and ability could train their muscles here with limit-pushing weights.

Judy needed no extra weight, though, having brought her own in the form of wobbling, jiggling adipose. Judy's huge rump gave her two yoga balls of blubber on demand. She heaved both cheeks up off of the ground, then twisted her triple-wide hips forward, sashaying her ass violently. Gravity pulled her backside to the ground like two meteors, although instead of impacting with craters, they clapped the floor and rippled up from the shock. Judy's terrifying ass transformed into friendly blubber when it hit the ground, expressing power and compassion in equal parts.

Her pink, stretchy shorts barely contained the top quarter of her behind, so that the vast majority of her globular glutes puffed out bare under her hem. As she walked, each dimple on the surface of her ass trembled and wavered. At present, her shorts read "JUCY," with "JU" stretched on her left cheek and "CY" on her right cheek. The "I" had gotten lost somewhere in the depths of her ravenous ass crack.

Nick restrained himself from discovering the lost letter while they were still in public.

Her cute cottontail swayed over her bopping butt. The small, dainty fluff served as an arousing counterpoint to her dense, meteoric ass. Beside her tail, her love handles fluffed on top of her ass in two pudgy helpings. Another pair of back rolls puffed out atop her love handles, which populated her waist with strata of flab. Her heaving strides flopped her back rolls against each other. Just a bit higher, though, her pink sports bra restrained her gray-furred blubber. Her shoulder fat stretched broad curves into the back of her sports bra. Judy's tubby arms swung wide, dragging her bulbous biceps across her waist and even nudging them back against her ass. A woman Judy's size was bound to constantly butt against this and bump into that, a rule which applied to her own overgrown features most of all.

Once she tottered all the way through the doorway, Nick jogged around her. The air conditioning flowed through the slender fox's loose jersey and gym shorts. He turned on his heel to face his massive mate.

Judy's lower belly poured like putty into her shorts and bobbed lackadaisically, just above her fat-entrenched cankles. Her shorts formed a bra of sorts for her stomach, anchoring its waistband in her back fat in order to keep her belly aloft. Without its support, her stomach would happily plop to the ground. Its waistband bit into her plush belly lard.

Nick envied the garment's privilege. It got to hug Judy's gut and dig deep into her fat.

Two heavy tits spilled over her fat stomach and plumped past it in ponderous orbs the length of her arms. Their mass obscured the top half of her immense belly. Their nipples and areolas bulged against her sports bra, while her cleavage fluffed up through its neckline.

Judy huffed over her mudslide chin and between her heavy cheeks. "I just, (hurf), bought these, (gurf), last week. Look how much I muffin top them now!" She mashed her thick arm into her corpulent waist in order to slap her gut. Her wrist puffed around her paw, which itself was populated by bloated sausage fingers.

Nick stepped forward, pressing his torso between her supersized tits. He stretched his arms wide around her breasts, reached down past her vast sideboobs, and dug his paws into her waistband trench. His fingers fumbled between her pursing abdominal fat until he found her shorts' waistband. He clutched it, and with a hoarse grunt, he hefted it up, stretching her waistband while he heaved her colossal gut and titanic tits. His upper body strained to hold her weight, and that strain crept into his voice. "Hmm. The elastic still--(hrgh)--stretches. Looks like you got some room in there." He let go, and the tension left his lungs.

Her doughy bulk flopped back down. After her stomach smacked his feet, it collapsed into muted oscillations.

Nick's heart pulsed, and sweat dotted his chest, but not because he had just pushed his muscles.

Judy held up a 32-ounce thermos. "Yeah, I needed some room in there so I could drink a carrot shake. I just wanted a little something to keep me energized while I work out. A healthy way to hydrate, you know?" She grinned mischievously, pursing her flabby cheeks.

Nick raised his brow. "With just a hint of cream and sugar for taste, I assume?"

Judy locked her plump lips around the mouthpiece and guzzled a few gulps, rocking her pudgy chin. Her lips smacked as she pulled the thermos away. "Just a hint. Wouldn't want to ruin my trim figure."

Nick savored the moment. "I love it when you're ironic." He wandered beside her to the bicep curl machine. There, a long bar hovered above a chair. A stack of weights, on the floor beside the chair, attached to the bar. "Unfortunately, the Chief wants you to sweat off some of that 'trim figure.' Why don't we start with bicep curls?" Nick took a peg from the weights and unhooked it, making sure that the only weight Judy would lift was her own immense forearms.

Well. "Only" was the wrong word for chunky, hammy forearms like hers.

Judy handed off her shake to Nick and shuffled to the machine. She pivoted her rump towards the side of the chair, then backed up. Her ass crack parted for the seat like curtains of lard. As she wiggled backward, her immense cheeks molded around the seat. Her ass kept going, though. Once her hinder enveloped the chair, then she sat. Her ass oozed thicker along the ground, while her back settled lower against her butt's perky peaks. With that accomplished, her tummy also spilled to the floor, albeit between elephantine legs.

The machine's bar waited by her side.

She dragged herself around, tugging her stomach over the floor. The bar stabbed her sideboob, though. She plunged her arms under her sledgehammer rack, gritted her teeth, and hoisted them from her belly. Having made sufficient room, she swiveled her waist and tucked her belly under the bar. She let her tits flop down over the bar, covering it.

Her butt consumed the seat, and her boobs devoured the bar. Seemingly, the bicep curl machine had vanished.

Nick bit his lip. "Looking swole there, Officer Hopps. So swole, in fact, I can't even see the gym machine."

She buried her forearms under her tits. "Oh, you know me. I'm all about the gains." Judy grunted, and her paws lifted slowly. Even with the weight set to zero, Judy's megaton mammaries gave her all the resistance she needed. Her forearms trembled their flab, and her pudge-plastered elbows jabbed down into the top of her gut. Judy gradually lifted the bar, along with her giant tits, separating them from her bellytop. The huge sacks rose higher than her scalp before they collapsed down. Their fat settled against and around her face, smothering her. Granted, their volume still sprawled over her biceps and flooded up into the bar. With their tips lifted, Judy's underboobs flashed bare. The underside of her cleavage mushroomed out below the taxed hem of her sports bra.

All good things come to an end, though, and Judy laboriously set the bar back down. Her lungs heaved, fluffing her tits against her neckline.

Nick nodded approvingly. "One rep. Good work!"

Judy put her head back and opened wide.

Nick upturned the thermos over her head and squirted. Thick, dense shake drained out and into her gullet.

Judy gulped hungrily while she breathed heavily through her nose. She guzzled the fattening formula for half a minute before slapping her belly.

Nick backed off. "Ready to show me a leg press?"

Judy shook her head. "No! (Urp.) Not with this waist, I'm not."

Nick clapped. "I appreciate your confidence. However, I won't be satisfied until you PROVE to me that you're too fat to do a leg press." He offered Judy his forepaws.

Judy extended her closer forepaw and tilted towards Nick. "Alright, well, I'm gonna have to get my humongous ass over to the machine to do that." She swayed her waist towards him, dragging her gut along the floor until her breasts slumped off of the bicep curl bar. She pushed with her further leg to lift its ass cheek, although her rump still clutched the seat under her. Grunting, she stood, pushing down on Nick's grip. She waddled forward a step, and the entire machine came with her.

Nick darted to her backside. "Aheh, um. Hold on." He plunged his forepaws deep between her warm, fluffy, corpulent cheeks. Instead of clutching meaty pawfuls of rabbit rump, he took hold of the seat. "Try now."

Judy took another step. Her fat ass tried to tug the seat. Her ass crack's adipose pressed its weight inward, around Nick's arms, in a deep hug of blubber.

Nick held fast, despite himself. He kept the seat steady, letting her butt cleavage slide off of it.

Judy waddled free of the machine. "Thanks. Luckily for me, you have plenty of practice spelunking in my dump truck."

Nick let go of the seat. "Oh, but Judy, it is a different dump truck every time. It just gets fatter, and fatter, and... well, each diving mission is a new experience."

Judy slogged her fat, inch by inch, bouncing her butt up only to let it crash back down. "Eloquent, Nick." As she pushed one leg forward, it tumbled her belly up and aside, creating choppy waves for her supersized tits to surf on. Her body compensated for its sluggish gait with the endless ripples and jiggles exerted by each inch of her blubber-drenched form.

In the meantime, Nick went ahead to the leg press machine. He set its weight to zero. A long, metal incline supported a chair. At the base of the incline sat a vertical footpad, while the chair itself attached to a stack of weights. Users with a BMI below 150 would sit on the chair and press the footrest, essentially pushing themselves along the incline in order to lift the weights.

As for users with a BMI above 150, Nick was about to find out.

Judy crossed the aisle to reach the leg press. She slung her planetary ass into the chair, and her cheeks easily gobbled it up. From there, she turned to face the footpad.

The machine creaked woefully as she set her mass on it.

Glee fluttered in Nick's chest just from hearing the machine's groans. "You might end up flattening the leg press machine before long."

"It wouldn't be the first piece of police property I've demolished. At this point, I'm more surprised when my fat ass doesn't crush something around here." Her feet rested on the floor, and her plush legs plumped around the diagonal track, obscuring it from view. Again, there was seemingly no exercise machine, since Judy's flesh draped over it. The rabbit's tummy poured a thick roll over her thighs, then dipped between her legs to smooch the footpad. Her breasts peeped down at the footpad over the cresting fold of her stomach.

Judy's feet rose a few inches from the floor, and her lardaceous lap lifted her cushy stomach. That propped her tits upward, and they rocked unevenly as their fat overlooked her head. To her credit, Judy managed to tap the footpad with her chunky toes. Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, though, and not in the operation of gym equipment. When her feet fell back down, she wheezed. "I might need some help here." Her belly was too big and heavy for her legs to reach the footpad.

Nick hopped to the other side of the footpad, looking at the breadth of Judy's sitting stomach. He had to find some way of easing her weight so that her tubby tootsies could actually reach the footpad.

Her blubbery figure offered many attractive opportunities for grip. There was her underbelly, doughy and flabby. There was her navel, just as impractical for gripping as it was lewd. There were her tits, an obvious pick for groping.

Nick went with her waist, though. He opened his arms wide, leaned over the footpad, and dug his forepaws into the fatty furrows at her sides. His fingers and palms delved under the sides of her dense, heavy upper stomach. He lifted, and his muscles complained of the same fault that had plagued Judy moments ago. Nick recited the problem poetically. "Hot damn, (hrrngh), you are one heavy bun."

Judy raised her feet. With Nick's loudmouthed assistance, she cranked her legs upward, hauling her gut higher. She raised her fat-quivering legs and planted her feet on the footpad. Since the footpad was so close, Judy's legs bent at the knees, mashing her corpulent calves into her huge thighs.

Nick freed his belly-bitten paws and stood.

Judy's elevated belly piled on her legs with a round summit that slopped her tits back against her face. Her cute little nose dug into her cleavage, while her balloon boobs leaned on either side of her face, as if they extended her already-bubbly cheeks. Her muffled words dripped with venom. "Enjoying the view?"

Nick wiped the shit-eating grin from his face. "No! I mean, not that I don't like looking at you."

Judy's body quivered, evidencing her giggles. Then, she grunted, and her legs trembled. Their luscious lard jiggled alongside her soft, inert stomach. Miraculously, Judy's legs straightened. She pushed herself up the incline, even scraping her monumental ass along the track. As she went, her butt dragged on the floor, too big and too heavy to depart it. Still, Judy extended her legs, letting her gut settle atop their surface. It ebbed out and down to her cankles. Likewise, her tits followed gravity and drifted off of her face. "Whew!"

Nick said, "Now you know what it feels like to have your nose in there."

Judy cocked a brow. "Somehow, (huff), I think it feels a little different for you." She eyed the thermos. "Gimme a hit."

Nick held up the bottle and pointed its nozzle right down at Judy's gaping maw. He squeezed, and thick shake squirted out in a blast.

Judy gulped. Her throat shuttled more and more of the shake through her pudgy neck and into her corpulent stomach. For her esophagus, reps came quick and easy. After all, that was the muscle she had trained the most, day in and day out. Judy slapped her stomach, awakening Nick from his reverie.

Nick pulled back the thermos.

Judy licked her lips. "Alright, let's finish this rep." She pulled her knees up. As the chair descended towards the footpad, her butt dragged forward on the ground in her wake. Her thick legs bowed outward, but their girth still pushed her immense gut up. Slowly, her compressing legs raised her belly, like it was inflating before their eyes. The mountainous middle plumped up under her breasts once again. Her overfilled jugs slapped her muzzle, no less arousing for its predictability.

She let her feet slip from the footpads, and her gut dropped like a sack of potatoes. Her thighs, meanwhile, laid in a seat cushion made of her ass.

Nick felt hot, along with the urge to shed his clothes. "I feel tuckered out just watching you! Ready to hit the showers?"

Judy looked at him with a piercing glare. "You feel tuckered out? How do you think I feel, lugging all this blubber around?"

He chuckled nervously. "Ah, heh, point taken."

Judy grinned. "It's alright. Anyway, we can't leave yet. As much as I hate to burn more calories, there's a reason we're doing this."

Earlier, Chief Bogo had promised to check in on Judy's progress. His furrowed brow and squinting eyes suggested that he did not enjoy the scent of bullshit, ironically.

Nick looked around while he offered Judy his forepaws. "Alright, well... treadmill?"

Judy grasped his paws and stood. "Works for me."

Nick stepped back a few paces, and then a few more, just to give the rotund rabbit enough room.

Still, as she shuffle-stomped past, her fleshy hip bowled into him, followed by a hearty plap from her floor-flopping behind. She glanced at him over her shoulder, biting her luscious lower lip. Her eyes seemed to say, "Sorry, not sorry."

To her side, Judy approached a row of treadmills lined up against a wall.

With her attention diverted, her boob smooshed right into the handlebar of a treadmill. After rebounding into Nick for good measure, she hefted her foot up and slammed it down onto the treadmill belt. Impressively, her tubby leg straightened to haul her other foot up onto the treadmill, ass and all.

The unfortunate machine groaned but did not buckle. Judy was 0 for 3 on breaking gym equipment. It was disappointing to see her fail so many times when she was normally so expert in crushing things with her heaving ass. Nick pondered if he could make it up to her somehow. Perhaps by letting her demolish him with her butt.

Judy's ass sat on the treadmill and spread far beyond its sides, dangling inches above the floor. It also arced way behind the machine, due in large part to the fact that her belly pushed her back from the handlebars. Prudently, she lifted her tits up onto those handlebars, so that she could get close enough to grab them with her pudgy forepaws.

Nick winced. "Is that comfortable? It seems like your boobs would--"

"No," Judy cut him off curtly, "It's not." Still, she paced one leg back and the other forward. Her belly hugged the front of the treadmill, while the belt tossed her ass back. It ripped her cheeks out behind her, but their weight collapsed back down, walloping the treadmill. The belt responded by throwing them again. Basically, the machine twerked her butt. The hopping peaks of her heaving cheeks pushed her shorts' hem further and further up her ass, turning gym shorts into a gym thong.

Slow, clopping hooves drew Nick's attention backwards. There was Chief Bogo, entering the gym. He watched Judy's slogging lumber. His eyes glazed over while her tits nearly hopped out of her sports bra, her belly slapped against her legs, and her ass pounded beyond her shorts-turned-panties. His face turned beet red. "I see Hopps is... working on cardio."

Nick nodded. "That's right, Chief!"

Chief Bogo stared at Judy, slack-jawed.

Nick waved his hand in front of Bogo's face. "Chief?"

The buffalo shook his head and looked at Nick. "Yes. Officer Wilde, I trusted you to be her personal trainer. I expected to see results by now."

Nick tugged his jersey's neckline. "Y'see, she has a workout schedule, and she's on a diet. It just hasn't kicked in yet. But, I'll tell you what, we should see an improvement any day now!"

Bogo cocked a brow. "I am beginning to question if we agree on the definition of the word 'improvement.'"

Nick chuckled. "Ohh, good one, Chief! Of course we do!" He elbowed the Chief's arm playfully.

Bogo snorted at him.

Nick cleared his throat. "Ahem, well. Yes, I know exactly what you mean. You want her to lose enough weight that she stops breaking our squad cars."

Bogo stared him down. "Good." He stomped off.

Nick watched him walk out of the gym. "Yeesh, what is that guy's problem?"

Judy called out, hoarse. "Can I, (wheeeeze), get off the, (whooof), treadmill now?!"

Nick spun back to Judy. "Oh, yeah, of course!"