Product Description
Date (relative): August, just before the move to Morphelio
Location: Roadside diner bathroom, 1:23 a.m.
Current Body Snapshot: 5’9”, 194lbs; muscle still dominant but layered in softness, belly heavy and tight from bloat
Tails: Two full tails, dragging low and warm with salt and sand
Memory Flashback
We hit the beach just before sunset. Still warm, air thick with brine and beer breath. Shirts came off fast—competition, pride, habit—and I followed without thinking. But when the wind hit my fur and my belly caught the light, I felt… watched. Not by them. By myself. By something that still wanted me tighter.
Someone whistled. Someone else shoved me toward the water. I laughed and ran with them. Pretended the self-consciousness didn’t bite.
Later, after we’d dried off and split into little knots of conversation, he pulled me behind the rocks. One of the track guys from another school. Broad shoulders. Blue swim trunks. He kissed me first. Just pressed in and waited to see if I’d move. I did. Clumsily. I didn’t even ask his name. It happened fast—like our bodies knew something we hadn’t said out loud. I could feel his hand skim the curve of my gut as we kissed harder, and I didn’t stop him.
I might have liked it.
Emotional Reflections
At the diner after, we packed into booths. The others were sunburned and we all were half-drunk. Fries, shakes, three orders of pancakes. Everyone was talking over each other—about dorms, majors, which schools had the best parties. It felt like we were already gone.
I ate everything. Didn’t care about timing or tracking. My gut swelled tight under the table, pressing against my waistband like it wanted space. I leaned back and rubbed it once without thinking. Logan saw and tossed a roll at me. “You’re gonna hibernate through freshman year at this rate.” I flipped him off.
It was funny.
I laughed.
Physical Sensations
Now I’m in the diner bathroom, shirt lifted halfway, belly rounded out like a balloon—or something gestating. It’s not just food. I can tell. It’s softness that wasn’t there before. A layer over everything I used to define myself by.
I press into it, feel the weight shift. It’s warm. Dense. My abs flex beneath it, still strong. But I can’t tell if I’m proud of it or trying to pretend it’s not happening.
The light overhead buzzes. My face looks older in this mirror. Fuller. Not bad. Just… different.
Self-Talk & Lessons
I used to earn every inch of my body. Every line, every cut, every pound. But this softness? It didn’t ask to be earned.
And I don’t know if that means I’m losing control—
or finally letting some of it go.
Foreshadowing
Coach Ryker’s voice still rattles in my head sometimes—“Discipline separates the good from the great.” Gavin’s does too. “You’re not wrong for wanting softness.”
Tonight, they’re just echoes. Neither of them stopped me from kissing that guy. From eating until I had to unbutton my jeans. From lifting my shirt and staring at my own belly like I was trying to read something written under the skin.
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