Andre’s office was quiet at this hour — only the low hum of the backroom freezer and the distant hiss of the soda machine seeped through the walls. The restaurant had closed hours ago, leaving the building warm, still, and heavy with the smell of burgers that clung to every corner.

Zillion eased himself down onto the special double-width chair Croc kept for him now. The otter’s enormous rear spread across the surface instantly, each cheek spilling over an edge. The seat groaned as if announcing just how much Zillion had grown.

And he had grown.

His red shirt was technically still on his body… but only barely. The buttons that once struggled against his belly hadn’t survived the week. His fatty chest had outgrown the top entirely — two plush mounds of otter softness pushing out in full view, the fabric riding up beneath them and clinging for dear life to his rounded shoulders.

Below the shirt?

Nothing.

His pants had surrendered earlier in the day, seams blown wide open from the pressure of his widening hips and incredibly thick thighs. Every shift seemed to make him fatter. Every “sample,” every “employee reward,” every “break snack,” every burger Croc insisted he try — it had all gone straight to his belly, his chest, his sides, his butt. All of him.

Now he sat pantless, massive belly sagging between his legs and pooling forward over the edge of the big chair like rising dough.

His arm rested lazily along the chair’s side, half for comfort and half because lifting it was starting to feel like moving a sandbag.

Across from him, Croc leaned forward in his office chair — tie off, top buttons undone, posture relaxed. The night shift look suited him: wide belly spilling onto the desk edge, thick chest filling the space where papers should have been. His gut and Zillion’s nearly touched when he leaned forward.

“Open up,” Croc said softly.

Zillion obeyed instinctively, muzzle parting as the warm, freshly-made burger was guided into his mouth. Croc’s large hand held it steady while Zillion took a slow, heavy bite. His cheeks puffed with meat and sauce, a deep, rumbling purr escaping his throat as he chewed.

Croc kept his other arm braced on Zillion’s belly — or rather, sunk into it for support. The otter’s gut was so soft and massive now that Croc’s forearm practically vanished into the plushness as he leaned closer.

“You’re my favorite employee, Zillion,” Croc murmured, voice low and warm.
“Always have been.”

Zillion’s ears perked, blush showing through his fur. He swallowed thickly, chest wobbling from the motion.

“R-really, boss…?”

Croc smirked, leaning in until the bulging curve of his own belly nearly touched Zillion’s sagging middle.

“Really.”

He guided the burger forward again, pushing it closer to Zillion’s maw, brushing his thumb along the otter’s lip.

“I want to offer you something special… a remote job.”

Zillion blinked, confused.
“I—like… from home?”

“Not exactly,” Croc purred.

He leaned forward more, belly pressing softly against the table, inches from brushing Zillion’s.

“You’d be working closely with me. Very closely. Mostly from this office. Late hours. No customer interruptions.”

Zillion’s heart thumped under layers and layers of plush fat.

Croc fed him the rest of the burger, pressing it into his mouth with slow finality.

“Also…” Croc said as Zillion chewed, voice dropping to a deep, fond rumble…

“Consider that burger your final reward as a regular employee.”

Zillion gulped the bite down, eyes widening.

“I—I got the job…?”

Croc slipped his hand deeper onto Zillion’s heavy belly, thumb rubbing slow, approving circles.

“You got the job,” he whispered.

Zillion’s entire body wobbled as he laughed softly in relief, massive gut quivering as he leaned further into the chair.

He had no idea what the new position meant.

But if it meant spending more time with Croc…
More food…
More growth…

He wasn’t complaining.

Not one bit.