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It's been a bit, at least four or so months- Between college and a new relatively awkward feeling my heart has been feeling as for the last couple of months, I've been dipping in and out of writing much of anything. It ain't my best work yet, though I hope it satisfy any and all readers willing to give this a glance! Any case, did something off to the side for a friend of mines, as he was looking forward to seeing his gal turn into a rather enlarged blob for the crimes she's been doing for some while.
Maybe this time she'll actually learn a lesson...
Thieves. A profession frowned upon by everyone but the very group designated to such a title, they're nimble little warriors who use either magic or a small subset of skills to sneak into private properties and steal away at any items, valuable items. Might've fact, it doesn't even have to have some sort of value to its name for it to be stolen- It could be bread being sold on the market in purest daylight or something so complicated as an cursed idol- It doesn't matter the size, the width or how it looks in comparison to what had been told about it, so long as it has some sort of legitimate value to the person currently attempting to run away with it in comparison to the life they could be living otherwise, it will be taken and then either sold off to some I'll mannered individuals, willing to take the stolen goods and saunter them to someone on the lowest tier of the ladder-
Or eaten away, never to be seen again.
But there is something else to be spoken of- Thieves come by, in and out of reality, whether through magical means or because their body was buried beneath the gentle waves where the fish shall feast upon their corpse like a lavish banquet. No matter the location, no matter the society, no matter the city, town, village or otherwise destroyed civilization, there will always be one person 'choosing' the very life they decide to go into, whether forced or otherwise. However, these folks, these particular creatures, no matter the circumstances, no matter their situation-
Can evolve into something arguably better. "This is too easy." As said before, thieves are a dime a dozen. There could be a few or a thousand acting at a time, yet the end result for most of these vulgar rats ends the same: They make a slight mistake and it ends up costing them something significant enough that they have to either temporarily move away from the business or, depending on the severity of the situation, permanently sit down. Professionals however, are different in that prospect. "Easy does it, easy does it."
As she floats through the deep in the vacuum of space, she reaches into the entrance of the place, her findings leading her just above the area she'd need in order to get what she needed. "There you are." She chatters, content with her findings. Professional thieves are those who haven't been caught, nor seen as for that matter. Either fully legitimate, working with some sort of force to confiscate stolen goods or still being on the odd end of evil to supplement some form of kleptomania. "Annnnnnd here… we… GO!"
With something as simple as a bit of heat, she was able to precisely cut into the tempered glass and drop down below without a single sound, without an alarm to trigger. Ahead of her was a long and narrowing hallway, metal plastered against every wall with what felt like closed panels on the left and right side nearing the roofing- Simple enough. Likely gun's or darts to put her asleep long enough to push her into a wakeful prison big enough to keep her locked away for a good time, although… A pointed nose in the air, whiskers pointed up and narrowing irises later and she felt like there was more to this room than the path she was on. She ducks down, laying on one knee as she reaches to her waist and grabs onto a small canister. "Let's see what we have here." She whistles, pulling the pin and allowing the smoke to reveal what was hiding: A row of dancing red lights, awaiting someone foolish enough to trip each and every one of them. "And they said this would be hard."
"All I'm seeing is something a child could get through."
No, a toddler. Skipping through the obviously segmented lines was something anyone could do, even her when she was a wee kitten, ducking beneath the 'waves' and setting herself between a hardy door and some randomly placed beams of light just waiting for a whistling hair follicle to fall upon it's reddening glare. Unluckily for the people who had placed it here, it was barely hitting bank vault levels of security, which wasn't saying much considering the time and day they were in, especially when such vaults predate a couple centuries back when they used to only exist upon the earth. "Come on, where is it-"
But that didn't mean it was easy. Being slightly primitive, the only things that existed within this ancient little place among the darkest edge of space in regards to futuristic tech were the lasers and the electronics which mysteriously still functioned, barely having much of anything besides the occasional smell of windex and floor cleaner. It was taken care of, yes, but left behind in such a state where she couldn't use her usual tools to simply throttle her way through by means of either technical force or some of the devices this rampant little canid would've used in other situations. No, she was forced to do something she otherwise AVOIDED had she decided to go to any other place to rob: Lock Picking. Her long, curved ears were squished against the lock, constantly listening in to hear for a click before moving to the next objective- It wasn't particularly difficult, to say the least.
However, it was annoying. She's done a bit of this before, back when she was barely able to afford a burger and some fries, but this was a bit precarious. See, back then, vaults like this had stages, combination locks behind each one she would pick away at, revealing itself only when she figured out the previous. For these one's, there was only two, the lock being the first-
The second being a multibar system with camlocks. It was certainly driving to know that this vault would essentially lock her out if she dared to twist too hard in any direction, forcing her to slow down and slowly collect at each individual pin in front of her, rotating only if her ears could pick up in the almost silent click each one made. Before long, before it could hit the thirty minute mark-
The final click allowed her to twist and reveal her bounty. Gold. Gold everywhere. Usually there'd be paper notes in here, maybe the occasional trinket, but this was- This was- "Holy-" A dragon's bounty. She pulled out a bag and began scooping the bars into it, sealing the weight in a place where it wouldn't affect her. "They don't have much value alone, especially after space travel, but if I have enough of them-"
The fennec fox wouldn't have to bother with such miniscule things such as thievery. She could live lavishly, away from the burden of having to do such tasks such as stealing, lying and keeping ahead of the game. All she needed to do was scoop as MANY of these bars into the bagged hammerspace and zip her flat, muscular ass to the ship, sell the valuables and cash her check at the nearest 'legitimate' vendor before the owner of this place could get any ideas of getting his money back- Then she could live, thrive for the next twenty to thirty years, without having to worry, without having to move a hand towards her tools. An escape from this career path, without the need to return for quite a bit of time-
But there was something that could make that indefinite. An emerald statue of a draconian matriarch, who's visage stood the test of time, despite having likely been here since most of earth went off to other plants to colonize. The curves matched its likely weight, curves sliding to the rounding backside, tail as thick as a milkshake with scales applied by singular gold pieces of gold scales, carved into the thing by someone who had a special eye for detail. It wasn't particularly large, length the size of half a grade school ruler and the width being that of a stack of cookies, mimicking the folds with delicate and smooth bites- But that didn't matter. She could tell- That glimmer was enough on its own to sell to vendors all around the galaxy for a staunch price tag due to the minerals alone. She could imagine someone on the more historical side of things would love to keep one of these within a museum if given the chance.
Ignoring the rest of the shimmering yellow next to her, the golden fur fennec was quick to stuff the small bag between her bosom, scuttling along the floor and soon reaching the miniature with glee, her eyes first take to her potential one hundred years of peace, irises gazing upon whatever could potentially prove to be an issue in the acquiring of such a valuable goodie, only to then lift it from its hold.
“God, you’ll be my way out of- ACK!”
She rubs her backside, fishing for an object. Something hit her. Her stomach bubbles, something clearly upsetting it, but she did not pay mind to it. What she did was the sudden red her eyes were now endowed with as blaring alarms told her to lift her feet and start running. She's quick to sprint forward, body nimble to make her way past the vault door, but not without suddenly feeling a stinging pain in her backside again. "Seriously?!" Again, she paid no mind to it. The itty bits of cloth tearing as she slammed her ass against the vault door didn't matter, as it did squeezing through. Tight squeeze, but she'd expect nothing less from the security. As the door closed behind her, she gazed upon the corridor in front of her, lined to the brim with what looked like rusted needle guns from a distance.
She squinted her eyes. "Was… Was the corridor always this sm- WHOA!" No time to think, only run! Her legs pick up, her body following, pushing forward in an attempt to avoid being shot by anything relating to tranquilizing, as her body feels bogged down, speed significantly muddled, like she was tied to a Boulder. Her lungs were on fire, her compacted body finally feeling the drenching heaviness of sweat. It couldn't be the bag, as it was the one purchase she took extra precautions to make sure it could hold many times her own weight… Maybe she was wrong. She took a look down, to check the bag for any holes, for any potential faults in it'd carrying capacity-
And as her eyes took a glance at the wearing and slight tearing of the cloth, her reaction? Run. A dart hit her square in the ass again as she attempted to though, adding onto what additions she had already acquired through complacency in figuring out what exactly had been happening to her. The form it had awakened in was that of adipose, a rounding triangle of wobbling fat swinging left and right as she slowly made her way down the narrowing hallway, unable to collect speed, unable to dodge the next incoming set of needles. "Uuuuurp." She could burp, the rapturous nature of her airy throat escaping as she began being pounded inwards, turning the muscle on her arms and shoulders into joints made of marshmallow; of jello. And it was only getting worse.
Her ass was collecting, droplets of tilting weight forcing her to nearly lean back, acting like an anchor to the entirety of her growing body and her thighs- If she could call the palpable appendages as such, we're rubbing themselves against one another, forcing her to slow down; waddle. Another hits her. The chins supported one another through a stair-like system, combining themselves into a collective five sets alongside the bulbed cheeks threatening to cover her face. "Co-uff-me on!" She wheezed, unable to deal with the enormity of her grossly enlarging lifestyle as dart after DART hit her square in her naked ass. Perpetual weight climbed upwards, skyrocketing the once fit model from lean machine to something akin to an elephant. But she was close!
So close, so close to freedom. Her weight wouldn't be a problem then, her size was never treated with anything but admiration. She just had to waddle, she just had to- "COOOOOME OOOON!!" Just had- just had to-
She couldn't squeeze through. The alarms blared, eye's still filled with the red that the lights had changed to, her ship quite literally just an inch away from the very entrance she had come through and yet… She couldn't move. Her legs had sunk into the collected anchoring, belly flowing over the top of her legs, arms dangling at the sides as useless as the attempt to lift herself back up and move once more. Her breathing was labored, lungs now being compressed under the immensity of her own size, breast forever tilting further and further into the side until the plump visages were naught, but pieces of softened meat. So close to freedom, so close to being at a vacation home in a far off galaxy.
The canid was losing vision, the perpetual sting of needles penetrating the rolls of fat behind her back forever noticeable. This would be her new home and from the muffled sound of it, so too would a jail cell fitting of her enormity. She was a calm individual, with a bit of ego, yet her mind raced; heart skipping beats as dart upon dart stung her in the ass like she hadn't been immobilized as the realization of her current situation became evident.
She had not only failed, but she was stuck.
Maybe this time she'll actually learn a lesson...
Thieves. A profession frowned upon by everyone but the very group designated to such a title, they're nimble little warriors who use either magic or a small subset of skills to sneak into private properties and steal away at any items, valuable items. Might've fact, it doesn't even have to have some sort of value to its name for it to be stolen- It could be bread being sold on the market in purest daylight or something so complicated as an cursed idol- It doesn't matter the size, the width or how it looks in comparison to what had been told about it, so long as it has some sort of legitimate value to the person currently attempting to run away with it in comparison to the life they could be living otherwise, it will be taken and then either sold off to some I'll mannered individuals, willing to take the stolen goods and saunter them to someone on the lowest tier of the ladder-
Or eaten away, never to be seen again.
But there is something else to be spoken of- Thieves come by, in and out of reality, whether through magical means or because their body was buried beneath the gentle waves where the fish shall feast upon their corpse like a lavish banquet. No matter the location, no matter the society, no matter the city, town, village or otherwise destroyed civilization, there will always be one person 'choosing' the very life they decide to go into, whether forced or otherwise. However, these folks, these particular creatures, no matter the circumstances, no matter their situation-
Can evolve into something arguably better. "This is too easy." As said before, thieves are a dime a dozen. There could be a few or a thousand acting at a time, yet the end result for most of these vulgar rats ends the same: They make a slight mistake and it ends up costing them something significant enough that they have to either temporarily move away from the business or, depending on the severity of the situation, permanently sit down. Professionals however, are different in that prospect. "Easy does it, easy does it."
As she floats through the deep in the vacuum of space, she reaches into the entrance of the place, her findings leading her just above the area she'd need in order to get what she needed. "There you are." She chatters, content with her findings. Professional thieves are those who haven't been caught, nor seen as for that matter. Either fully legitimate, working with some sort of force to confiscate stolen goods or still being on the odd end of evil to supplement some form of kleptomania. "Annnnnnd here… we… GO!"
With something as simple as a bit of heat, she was able to precisely cut into the tempered glass and drop down below without a single sound, without an alarm to trigger. Ahead of her was a long and narrowing hallway, metal plastered against every wall with what felt like closed panels on the left and right side nearing the roofing- Simple enough. Likely gun's or darts to put her asleep long enough to push her into a wakeful prison big enough to keep her locked away for a good time, although… A pointed nose in the air, whiskers pointed up and narrowing irises later and she felt like there was more to this room than the path she was on. She ducks down, laying on one knee as she reaches to her waist and grabs onto a small canister. "Let's see what we have here." She whistles, pulling the pin and allowing the smoke to reveal what was hiding: A row of dancing red lights, awaiting someone foolish enough to trip each and every one of them. "And they said this would be hard."
"All I'm seeing is something a child could get through."
No, a toddler. Skipping through the obviously segmented lines was something anyone could do, even her when she was a wee kitten, ducking beneath the 'waves' and setting herself between a hardy door and some randomly placed beams of light just waiting for a whistling hair follicle to fall upon it's reddening glare. Unluckily for the people who had placed it here, it was barely hitting bank vault levels of security, which wasn't saying much considering the time and day they were in, especially when such vaults predate a couple centuries back when they used to only exist upon the earth. "Come on, where is it-"
But that didn't mean it was easy. Being slightly primitive, the only things that existed within this ancient little place among the darkest edge of space in regards to futuristic tech were the lasers and the electronics which mysteriously still functioned, barely having much of anything besides the occasional smell of windex and floor cleaner. It was taken care of, yes, but left behind in such a state where she couldn't use her usual tools to simply throttle her way through by means of either technical force or some of the devices this rampant little canid would've used in other situations. No, she was forced to do something she otherwise AVOIDED had she decided to go to any other place to rob: Lock Picking. Her long, curved ears were squished against the lock, constantly listening in to hear for a click before moving to the next objective- It wasn't particularly difficult, to say the least.
However, it was annoying. She's done a bit of this before, back when she was barely able to afford a burger and some fries, but this was a bit precarious. See, back then, vaults like this had stages, combination locks behind each one she would pick away at, revealing itself only when she figured out the previous. For these one's, there was only two, the lock being the first-
The second being a multibar system with camlocks. It was certainly driving to know that this vault would essentially lock her out if she dared to twist too hard in any direction, forcing her to slow down and slowly collect at each individual pin in front of her, rotating only if her ears could pick up in the almost silent click each one made. Before long, before it could hit the thirty minute mark-
The final click allowed her to twist and reveal her bounty. Gold. Gold everywhere. Usually there'd be paper notes in here, maybe the occasional trinket, but this was- This was- "Holy-" A dragon's bounty. She pulled out a bag and began scooping the bars into it, sealing the weight in a place where it wouldn't affect her. "They don't have much value alone, especially after space travel, but if I have enough of them-"
The fennec fox wouldn't have to bother with such miniscule things such as thievery. She could live lavishly, away from the burden of having to do such tasks such as stealing, lying and keeping ahead of the game. All she needed to do was scoop as MANY of these bars into the bagged hammerspace and zip her flat, muscular ass to the ship, sell the valuables and cash her check at the nearest 'legitimate' vendor before the owner of this place could get any ideas of getting his money back- Then she could live, thrive for the next twenty to thirty years, without having to worry, without having to move a hand towards her tools. An escape from this career path, without the need to return for quite a bit of time-
But there was something that could make that indefinite. An emerald statue of a draconian matriarch, who's visage stood the test of time, despite having likely been here since most of earth went off to other plants to colonize. The curves matched its likely weight, curves sliding to the rounding backside, tail as thick as a milkshake with scales applied by singular gold pieces of gold scales, carved into the thing by someone who had a special eye for detail. It wasn't particularly large, length the size of half a grade school ruler and the width being that of a stack of cookies, mimicking the folds with delicate and smooth bites- But that didn't matter. She could tell- That glimmer was enough on its own to sell to vendors all around the galaxy for a staunch price tag due to the minerals alone. She could imagine someone on the more historical side of things would love to keep one of these within a museum if given the chance.
Ignoring the rest of the shimmering yellow next to her, the golden fur fennec was quick to stuff the small bag between her bosom, scuttling along the floor and soon reaching the miniature with glee, her eyes first take to her potential one hundred years of peace, irises gazing upon whatever could potentially prove to be an issue in the acquiring of such a valuable goodie, only to then lift it from its hold.
“God, you’ll be my way out of- ACK!”
She rubs her backside, fishing for an object. Something hit her. Her stomach bubbles, something clearly upsetting it, but she did not pay mind to it. What she did was the sudden red her eyes were now endowed with as blaring alarms told her to lift her feet and start running. She's quick to sprint forward, body nimble to make her way past the vault door, but not without suddenly feeling a stinging pain in her backside again. "Seriously?!" Again, she paid no mind to it. The itty bits of cloth tearing as she slammed her ass against the vault door didn't matter, as it did squeezing through. Tight squeeze, but she'd expect nothing less from the security. As the door closed behind her, she gazed upon the corridor in front of her, lined to the brim with what looked like rusted needle guns from a distance.
She squinted her eyes. "Was… Was the corridor always this sm- WHOA!" No time to think, only run! Her legs pick up, her body following, pushing forward in an attempt to avoid being shot by anything relating to tranquilizing, as her body feels bogged down, speed significantly muddled, like she was tied to a Boulder. Her lungs were on fire, her compacted body finally feeling the drenching heaviness of sweat. It couldn't be the bag, as it was the one purchase she took extra precautions to make sure it could hold many times her own weight… Maybe she was wrong. She took a look down, to check the bag for any holes, for any potential faults in it'd carrying capacity-
And as her eyes took a glance at the wearing and slight tearing of the cloth, her reaction? Run. A dart hit her square in the ass again as she attempted to though, adding onto what additions she had already acquired through complacency in figuring out what exactly had been happening to her. The form it had awakened in was that of adipose, a rounding triangle of wobbling fat swinging left and right as she slowly made her way down the narrowing hallway, unable to collect speed, unable to dodge the next incoming set of needles. "Uuuuurp." She could burp, the rapturous nature of her airy throat escaping as she began being pounded inwards, turning the muscle on her arms and shoulders into joints made of marshmallow; of jello. And it was only getting worse.
Her ass was collecting, droplets of tilting weight forcing her to nearly lean back, acting like an anchor to the entirety of her growing body and her thighs- If she could call the palpable appendages as such, we're rubbing themselves against one another, forcing her to slow down; waddle. Another hits her. The chins supported one another through a stair-like system, combining themselves into a collective five sets alongside the bulbed cheeks threatening to cover her face. "Co-uff-me on!" She wheezed, unable to deal with the enormity of her grossly enlarging lifestyle as dart after DART hit her square in her naked ass. Perpetual weight climbed upwards, skyrocketing the once fit model from lean machine to something akin to an elephant. But she was close!
So close, so close to freedom. Her weight wouldn't be a problem then, her size was never treated with anything but admiration. She just had to waddle, she just had to- "COOOOOME OOOON!!" Just had- just had to-
She couldn't squeeze through. The alarms blared, eye's still filled with the red that the lights had changed to, her ship quite literally just an inch away from the very entrance she had come through and yet… She couldn't move. Her legs had sunk into the collected anchoring, belly flowing over the top of her legs, arms dangling at the sides as useless as the attempt to lift herself back up and move once more. Her breathing was labored, lungs now being compressed under the immensity of her own size, breast forever tilting further and further into the side until the plump visages were naught, but pieces of softened meat. So close to freedom, so close to being at a vacation home in a far off galaxy.
The canid was losing vision, the perpetual sting of needles penetrating the rolls of fat behind her back forever noticeable. This would be her new home and from the muffled sound of it, so too would a jail cell fitting of her enormity. She was a calm individual, with a bit of ego, yet her mind raced; heart skipping beats as dart upon dart stung her in the ass like she hadn't been immobilized as the realization of her current situation became evident.
She had not only failed, but she was stuck.
Category Story / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Gender Any
Size 120 x 66px
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