FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Prologue:

Olivia watched the top of the elevator as the electronic sign lit up, displaying the floor level. The elevator started with a jolt, making the poodle stumble, before suddenly, smoothly, beginning its descent into the Chriswold labs R&D department. Between the elevator's steel walls, anxiety suddenly wracked her as her transport settled. Her eyes flicked to the corners of the elevators, subtly trying to find any hidden cameras

She flipped out a hand mirror-a gift from her mother for her tenth birthday- and checked herself over. Her gray hair was in its usual style, taking natural advantage of its more curlier properties to let her stylists put it into a short, fashionable, still undisturbed perm. Her designer blouse and blue business jacket were all unphased by the sudden movement, but she ran a paw over her matching blue pencil skirt to smooth out the imaginary wrinkles anyway, trying to satisfy the paranoia that someone had seen something fall out of place. Her nails were perfectly manicured, she gave her perfume another spritz-

Quickly Olivia cycled through all of the pointless minutiae of her appearance that had been drilled into her by her mother since she could walk. She could practically hear it now: Head up, back straight, attentive expression-but not like that dear, tip your head like this so you look more approachable! Her mother had lectured her while her father had been off on a business trip.

Despite that focus on her more aesthetic properties, she'd received a lengthy education, getting her masters in business at a college practically run by her fathers pick of professors alongside her brothers, all to fulfill the career path and refined image her lineage of descendants from the original oil barons of North America possessed. Her friends when she was young had all been pre-picked, a combination of potential suitors from other families of old blood and the children of potential business allies, and later on her social life had maintained that fakeness with people only interested in being around her for the career opportunities it could give them.

Almost from birth, Olivia and her brothers were fed the idea of being a "triple-threat." Her brother Dustin would go in politics to further the families spread into the political arena, Gordon would manage the media side of the company and astroturf the corporate and traditional aims of the family to allow easier passing, and Olivia had thought she would be the final edge of that triangle: Taking the reins of the company of her father after he stepped down. For all the primping and prepping and schedules and dieting and rough, bleeding, cutting strictness of her life, she'd been able to take it all under the idea that past it all was her ability to live at the top, finally free to take control of her life and live freely with all the power in the world.

How wrong she'd been. It hadn't been the plan for her to take control of the company and experience that freedom, it had been for her husband to do so. The suitor being a terrier from another old family she'd been "dating" for appearances for weeks now, and who she'd soon discovered she would now have to actually marry to strengthen their political ties.He would inherit all corporate powers and the bulk of her trust fund, while Her role would be to stand behind him as his wife- but not before she'd go on the air on Gordon's show to espouse how great it felt to live as a godly woman standing behind her husband as he ran the 6th richest company in the world.

Olivia had almost forgotten the idea of maintaining her appearance as her blood boiled. She'd been raised with the idea of this absolute role of the woman in society as a positive, but even so, modern society had long ago been touched by the feminist idea, though she had figured herself exempt, at least through her own effort in the academic field.

But thanks to a hefty bribe to someone inside the family's intelligence agency and some intercepted research and development emails, there was the chance that demeaning fate could be avoided, and she might be able to claim the life she deserved.

With that, she was finally able to calm herself in time with the second jolt of the elevator as it descended into another sub-level, letting her strict posture slouch a bit. There wouldn't be any cameras here, not for the level of secrecy that what she was going to be seeing warranted.

Eventually the feeling of vertical movement stopped, and the elevator chimed as its sleek doors drew open into a large white hallway with three other occupants. Two large security guards, armed to the teeth (What looked like a panther and a rhino, she guessed.) flanking a squirrel draped in a thick lab coat with dark safety goggles hung around her neck, and a thick pair of glasses on her face. Her guards dwarfed both the scientist and Olivia in size, despite standing at an average 5'5..

"Mr. Chriswold! What a pleasure to see...you..." The mouse trailed off as she examined Olivia. Her head seemed to tilt in confusion as the guards shuffled awkwardly in the pause.

"...I'm sorry, I thought Mr. Chriswold himself would be visiting today. You would be...?"

"Olivia Chriswold, his daughter." She replied as coolly as she could. "I believe I'll be filling in for my father for the latest tour of our newest R&D project?" She took out her phone and in a swift few taps brought up the family identification for these kinds of facilities. The guard on the left, the rhino, brought out a bar scanner and flashed the phone quickly before putting it away. She hoped that the trembling in her hand would be attributed to anything other than the fear of her father or the family's network crashing in behind her. "It was a last minute change, he had a meeting, and well, you know..."

He looked at it for a second, flipping his sunglasses up to inspect the labeled information.

"It's legit." He grunted, and handed it back to her. She shoved it back into her handbag to address the squirrel in front of her, still unsure but persuaded by the guards' approval.

"I...suppose I must've made a mistake in my scheduling then." The squirrel laughed nervously, before clearing her throat. "R-right this way Ms. Chriswold."

The complex was large and pristine, and again the trained feeling of being watched tingled under her skin as the cameras of the complex's independent security network followed her. The footsteps of squad of her, the guards and the scientist echoed throughout, while the muffled sounds of speaking could be heard by the rooms lining the hallway. Near the end, large windows began to take place next to the doors, spreading out the length between them. Inside she could see glimpses of mechanical and organic projects she couldn't fathom the nature of, before arriving at a final sealed door ominously located at the end of the stretch of corridor.

The squirrel stepped ahead of the armed tour. "I'm sorry, let me just get this quick ma'am-" Quickly, she tapped the buttons on the door, and it slid open for them. She turned back to the guards around Olivia.

"Restricted access only, please."

Immediately, the guards stepped back, finally allowing Olivia space to move after keeping an almost claustrophobic distance away the entire time. The female scientist stood expectantly to the side of the door, waiting for her to enter first.

As she did, the room was dark for only a moment before lighting up with the sense of movement. Perched on an elevated steel stage, a giant almost gateway-like machine was situated at the end of the room. Large tendrils of wires and pipes funneling coolant stretched out of the bottom towards the control console at the beginning of the room, and from the sides stretching into the wall and lining the room. The drawing feature of the vast device was the thick ring at the precipice of it, rimmed with circuits like electrical vines surrounding the base of a huge steel inner-tube. Beneath it there was space hollowed out, with large supports almost keeping it from falling over, but lined with the same skinny circuits, albeit a different hue. Different engineers were tending the sides of the device, rushing back and forth like the attendants to a mechanical god.

Olivia was almost struck in awe of the towering machine at first as she approached the precipice of it, but composed herself as the squirrel rushed ahead of her. "This would be the trans-dimensional device your father requested development of. It can target other universes, and insert anyone who enters it into the body of themself in that universal plane, theoretically letting them assume their life and memories, with the home reality warping to accommodate the existential loss. I believe he, eh, requested this in case the refineries could no longer produce or the Chriswold financial legacy was threatened?"

She nodded, suppressing the giddy feeling currently sparking inside her. "Of course, I was primed before I arrived. Does it work?"

The head scientist faltered. "Does it-? Well yes, but there are some unfinished parts right now that can make the insertion process unstable when they flare up, but we've had successful test runs with animal testing, though not much luck on returning specimens..."

That would be fine, she wasn't planning on coming back to this life anyway, Olivia told herself. She turned toward the squirrel. "I'd like a test then, if you don't mind. Just to see how it runs?"

The rodent across from her faltered. "I'm not- I don't think now would be the best time really for a working test, as I said we've been dealing with some minor bugs recently. Maybe a tour after the next two months might be a better time if you wanted to-"

Olivia was getting married in two weeks. She did not have that kind of time. "I'd like a test while I'm here now, please." She settled back, careful not to give away her desperation. "I mean Dad did say he was getting frustrated with the lack of progress for the project, and I'd hate to have to go back and tell him they weren't ready yet..."

The head scientist froze. "No! No, I mean we can give a test right now. It should-it should run without any issue, just wait a minute-" She waved over to the side towards the techs before leaving Olivia to approach the console back towards the door. Slowly the room began to hum as power was fed into the technological gateway. Electricity arced between different electrodes on the gate before all conjoining into one brilliant wall of wavering light, through which Olivia could scarcely make out the workings of an apartment. The floor lit up under her as a wave of red light washed over her and fed through the tubes back to the central console.

She could barely hear the head scientist screaming over the din of rushing wind and humming machinery. "Okay, if we're reading this right, we should be in contact with another universe now-" Her attention was suddenly pulled away from Olivia by another tech getting her attention. Immediately she bent down, and her eyes were off the heiress.

Olivia took the distraction, creeping closer to the gateway, getting right to the edge of the portal that had formed at the center of the ring. She could barely stay standing as winds rushed by her into the obscured other reality. She timidly reached out her hand to touch the window of the other universe.

Which was coincidentally when the head scientist finished whatever she was murmuring about with the tech at the desk with a concerned look. Had Olivia been able to hear, she might've heeded murmurs of the previously mentioned bugs showing up in the program readings again.

The squirrel rubbed the back of her neck before standing up. "Actually Ms.Chriswold, this might not be a good run, so I think..."

She looked up just in time to see Olivia outstretch a manicured claw to the other reality. "MS. CHRISWOLD, DON'T-" she screamed, but the order was too late. As Olivia's claw made contact with the portal, she felt a tingling sensation only for a moment, before the world around her bled to white, and then black as she slipped out of consciousness.

---

Day 1:

The first of Olivia's sensations to return was her hearing, which was soundly welcomed with the buzzing of an alarm clock. Immediately, years of trained instinct toward the sound of such a device kicked in, and she shot up from the bed, tossing off the covers to avoid missing her scheduled morning calisthenics session. "I'm awake! I'm not-"

Olivia stopped as she realized the alien location she had woken up in. The laboratory was gone, replaced with a shabby one-bedroom apartment. Sunlight peeked through uneven blinds covering the windows to her right while an air conditioning unit pounded inside the window. Ahead of her she could see the door cracked open to the bathroom, with a box television elevated on a cupboard underneath. To her left she could see an open kitchenette with an oven against the wall and a microwave sitting crookedly to the left, while a toaster sat idly on the other side. Pots and pans stacked in the sink, most likely dirty, and a large refrigerator stationed squarely in the corner humming to itself. Even further left was presumably the door outside, but was overshadowed by the large fan stopped next to it, turned off for whatever reason. The bed itself was large, more like the one she was used to sleeping in comfortably, taking up the bulk of space in the room. She could see a taped up laptop sticking out from under the bed, with a cord trailing under the bed where it must've been plugged in.

This definitely wasn't the Chriswold R&D lab...so had it worked? Had she taken the place of another version of herself? Ignoring her wonder, the digital alarm clock continued to buzz beside her, angry it hadn't been silenced yet. She fulfilled it's request by clicking down the rest button with one finger before she fully got up from her resting spot, and made to leave the bed.

There was an odd stickiness to her back and legs as she got up, and as she fully stood up Olivia compulsively stretched back her hand to feel what it was. The fur on the back of her hand was immediately damp, and as she turned around, Olivia could see the sweat outline of a much, much larger silhouette staining the sheets. Seeing that, the stench of it suddenly hit her. Like raw onions, her fur hackled as she stepped back, and immediately almost fell over the litany of empty beer cans, bottles, and empty fast food containers strewn around the room.

Immediately she dashed to the bathroom, hoping to find the scent of lavender her cleaners usually filled her own bathroom with, but was met with an even worse smell inside the dingy yellow bathroom. On the verge of vomiting, she threw herself back out towards the window and in a scramble unlatched it so she could throw her head outside, taking deep gulps of the air outside.

While better, the air wasn't exactly "fresh". It was laced with the exhaust of the cars and buses that honked outside, with the undercurrents of the dust and grime of the general neighborhood. It was unkempt, the sidewalk cracked in some places and decaying into the road in others, and what houses were there were sandwiched between the clusters of abandoned complexes, often she could see shoddy fencing commonly used, almost like the agreed measure to prevent burglaries. There was a large election poster plastered on one of the abandoned complexes outside, but she couldn't bother herself to read what the cartoon of the candidate, some cheetah, was saying now with everything going on. Its residents milled about below, some hanging out by the gas station corner store she could just see out of the corner of her eye, but all she could focus on was the impoverishment of it all. It was so unkempt, so lower income, so-

Well her father had told her the acceptable word to use was 'urban.'

As she took some deep breaths of the fresh air outside the window, she was repulsed. There was no way another version of herself could live in such a dump. No matter what version of herself she was, she would never settle for a living space so...awful.

Olivia braced herself and pulled her head back inside the window. The smell hit her again, but she steeled herself as she went back to the bed, gingerly picking up the purse that had accompanied her to the new environment from the sweat-stained mattress. Retrieving her phone, she dug through her contacts. Surely she had someone here who could get her out of here. Maybe this was all a mistake and she'd been...kidnapped! Or something. Anything other than the idea that any version of her would live like this.

The contents inside the bag had changed with the environment, her makeup and hand mirror lost with only her wallet and her smartphone left inside. Digging around the wallet didn't yield much other than more panic. Her credit cards were all gone, save for one, and the spare hundreds she kept for physical cash was replaced with some crumpled twenties. Her drivers license looked like it'd been through the wringer, faded scratched to the point she was having trouble recognizing the photo used inside. The expiration date wasn't helpful either, since thanks to checking a dog eared calendar on the fridge, it was already expired.

She squinted in disbelief again as she looked it over. Her only form of I.D., and it was ten years out of date. How was that even possible? She was 24! This other version of her had to be around the same age, right? She dropped it back in the handbag and dug out her phone.

Her phone was full of names she couldn't recognize. Some were labeled with '(work)' so she fortunately knew she still had a job. A good number actually, she realized as she scrolled through the list. She was well connected! That was good, she thought to herself. Maybe this was just a...temporary living arrangement! I mean, if she was traveling perhaps this was the only thing open at the time! Her mind continued to retreat into that denial as she searched the phone for other details.

Surprisingly, it didn't seem to be well used, the gallery containing no pictures of this other version of her and the pre-installed social media apps on the device not even having an account on them. It was like the phone was barely used other than calling or texting. In a last attempt to dig through its messages, she finally found something. A text thread mentioned an address for where the other version of herself worked: Diamondback Construction. Maybe there'd even be some answers. Installing Uber, she flagged a ride downtown to where the thread of messages said she was going to be stationed. It wouldn't exactly be a limo, but she'd get there.

---

The fat grizzly in the safety vest and hardhat in front of the bulldozer looked over the license, then her, and chuckled before handing it back.. "Well, a'course I know who 'dat belongs to. Ya wouldn't forget ole' Olly once yah'd seen her." He sniffed. "Or got a whiff of her, I imagine. Don't think she's heah today, though. Might've used one of hah sick days or somethin'."

The bear may've been a bit...difficult to understand with his annoying accent, but he'd been willing to answer her questions, and that was enough to tolerate it so far. Now though, Olivia was confused. "I-I'm sorry, you said she works here?" The only signage she'd seen for any 'Diamondback Construction' for the area had been in front of the construction site she was in now, talking about a new office building being built. She'd expected to be directed to their corporate offices or something, maybe even with confusion from the contractors not knowing the higher levels of whatever company she worked for. Not...this. "I-are you sure you don't have Olivia Chriswold mixed up with anyone else, because that sounds very...hard to believe."

He grunted. "Nah. Old Olly's one of the foremen here since forevuh. Been workin' heah a loooong time. Probably 'da only reason she gets away with as much shit as she does, heh. Why're you askin'?"

Stunned as she was by the revelation, Olivia tried to come up with a response. "I-well you see, we're related and I was just..."

He snapped his fingers. "Hold on, you heah for the job? I think I remember Olly saying she had a relative or something that was interested in th' business. Grandkid or somethin'." He cupped his chin. "Or was that Mike...?"

Olivia's mind ran the calculations at a rapid pace. She was in another universe with no money, and no family connections. She could work her way up from whatever desk job she could net from this. She tried to compose herself again. "No! That-that would be her. I'm here for the job? I think she said something about an-ehm, desk or administrative position?"

He raised an eyebrow. "With how Olly is around the higher-ups, I doubt it. Got a resume or something? Ref'rences?"

Olivia froze up. Of course she did, it was long and trimmed meticulously with her academic achievements and referrals from both her professors and her fathers cronies.

...Back on the other side of the portal.

"I...don't. But believe me I have more than the skills and education required for management work-"

He frowned at her sympathetically. "...Kid, if you don't got a resume 'dey won't even let you inside the office, much less get ya in fuh an intahview. Only reason I'd take ya on was because if it was 'Olly talkin' about it, I don't wanna have to deal with her gettin' all pissy as soon as the broad gets back. Working the on the ground is the best offuh I can do heah."

She tried her best to maintain a cool composure, but it felt like everything was falling apart around her. Manual labor? Like digging and drilling? She was a businesswoman! She wasn't made for this kind of work!

Olivia forced herself to smile at the indignity, something she'd trained herself to do perfectly. "...Then it sounds like I have no choice but to accept! When would I start?" Hopefully with enough time, she could get herself another job before-

"How 'bout right now?"

She balked. "...Excuse me?"

Corporate laid off a good amount of folks last week, so we could use some on the line today." He explained. "Not like they've been giving us time to train on-site anyways. We'll prahbably keep it simple for yoah fuhst day, not manning the heavy stuff, that kind of thing." He turned around, walking over to a tent. "You, eh, might also wanna change out of 'dat. Gonna get dirty out theah. 'Think Ross has a pair of leftovah boots you can borruh-" He pulled out a radio as he walked inside, though whatever he said was obscured as the tent flap came down, leaving Olivia outside in the dust and clamor of the construction zone.

Olivia took a deep breath, gathered what dignity she had left, and followed him inside.

6 hours later, Olivia had never been more exhausted in her life. As her Uber sped away behind her she lamented the awful experience. She was caked in sweat and grime, and her legs felt like they were jelly underneath her. It turned out an "easy" day of work on the site still had her digging the foundation and helping move piping, both of which were more manual labor than she'd ever done in her life. She'd attended sessions with a personal trainer before, but the most she'd done is cardio, and even then a good chunk of her fitness plan was dieting. The site was grueling, stressful, and loud. How could anyone do that kind of thing willingly? At least it made sense why people were hired to do it now.

Even worse, she'd needed to walk all the way to some fast-food place once they went on lunch break. She remembered the snickers as she'd asked if they'd be provided food. How would she have known she was supposed to bring one?!

As she stepped across the road, she was blind to the approaching car, absorbed in her own self-pity. She was jolted out of her self-monologue as it swerved around her. The driver, an angry looking rabbit, leaned out the window. "Get outta the road asshole!"

She moved to the other side as quickly as her legs could take her. "Sorry! Sorry!"

As she stood in front of the apartment complex's door, she looked back just in time to see him flip her off as he drove away.

Opening the door, back to her apartment, she was again assaulted by the stench of the space. Bending down, she flicked on the fan which at least in some part soothed the bombardment on her sense of smell.

Pacing in the open room, Olivia tried to formulate a plan. Maybe there was...a lot on her plate right now, but so what? She was a Chriswold! If her ancestors had to get through this kind of work back in the olden days, she could too! She'd just...pull herself up by her bootstraps, like her father always said. As awful as he was, even a broken clock had to be right twice a day. She'd find another job and rebuild the Chriswold legacy. If there was recognition for the name here, then it would start with her.

Empowered, she looked around the room. But first, there would need to be some changes. Number one, cleaning the place! She dug around for a trash bag in the cupboard, before starting on some of the trash around the room. She flicked on her phone's music player and picked a pop track she'd heard hit the top of the charts the other day. Immediately, the drum and synth of the tunes spread throughout the room before the lyrics kicked in.

It was difficult work, but she was able to make some headway cleaning up the place. She'd seen her manor staff wash her bedsheets before when she was little and needed a place away from her parents' prying eyes.

As she finished gathering up all of the garbage and placing them by the door for the morning, she couldn't help but notice how dark the room had gotten. Outside she could see the sun had already gone down, which despite her success in cleaning the pigsty she'd woken up in, left her with another frustration. She couldn't exactly go out and look for another job at midnight, could she? And the construction supervisor who'd brought her on had said to be back there in the morning for training, and she still hadn't eaten dinner yet.

Olivia looked warily at the door, remembering the driver who'd almost hit her. She definitely wouldn't be going out, actually.

Looking in the fridge, it became obvious why there were so many fast-food cartons scattered around the room. Half the contents consisted of cheap beer, while the other parts were some of the greasiest fast food she'd ever seen. The other half consisted of the stored halves of whatever her other self could apparently cook up. She could see some spaghetti in some cartons, some taco meat...

She settled on the leftover chow mein in the back of the fridge. Chinese food was supposed to be healthy right?

As she finished the noodles, she got up and tossed out the carton into the trash under the sink. For what it was worth, there was the subtle thrill of the casualness of it all for her. Her trainer would have reprimanded her for eating something like this without her planned cardio for the day, and her father would have started dealing subtle threats for leaving trash out like this. Instead, it was just blissful silence as she was alone with her thoughts.

After that, she'd showered in the now tolerably smelling bathroom, and dug out a miraculously clean t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants she could use for pajamas. It wasn't her Armani silk bedclothes for sure, but she would bear it.

For now, though, she just pulled the covers back over the bed, and tried to get comfortable over the top, avoiding the sweat pit. Olivia would get over whatever training she had to do tomorrow, then actually try to job-hunt afterwards when she was more prepared.

As of that moment, all she wanted to do was sleep.

---

Day 2:

The droning of the alarm-clock again woke Olivia from her slumber. Once again, those instincts kicked in and she was wide awake as she sat up from the covers, albeit slower that time than she had on that first morning. Groggy, she rolled out of bed, feeling the covers slide off her.

As she got up, she couldn't shake that something was...off. The ceiling felt...closer? As she walked around, there was an odd feeling around her, something she couldn't particularly describe. Detouring to the closet, she looked for the clothes she'd arrived in, but couldn't find them on or around what was clean, and she certainly didn't want to check the dirty pile. Bending down to dig for something clean, she felt her stomach fold against against itself as the fat-

Olivia stood up straight, and instinctively composed herself as new fear gripped her for a few seconds as she stepped over the bathroom to look in the mirror. Lifting up her shirt, there was a layer of pudge steadily poking against the waistband of her pants, and she could see the rest of her had filled out similarly, thicker thighs and arms with almost years worth of dieting vanished like it'd never been there in the first place.

Olivia reeled. What had happened last night? She hadn't gone to bed with this layer of chubbiness on her had she? She pinched her stomach, feeling the soft furry flub jiggle as she shook it in her grip. She pressed down on her thigh underneath the shorts she'd chosen as pajamas, and felt her hand sink in more than she was used to. This...had to be wrong.

Though, the more she thought about it the less weird it seemed. The clothes she was wearing last night fit perfectly, and wouldn't she have noticed something off then? Additionally, she'd remembered her father always being strict about her on a diet, but had she really been that successful on it in the first place? She was trying to get out of his grip around her and escape all that in the first place, hadn't she? I mean, she was a fresh 29 year old at the prime of her life!

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the time from her smartphone placed on the bathroom counter. 7:30. The bear (for some reason she had a fairly strong idea that his name was Frank) had told her to be there by 8 for training. Quickly, she threw on the cleanest long shirt and pants she could find from the closet, learning her lesson from the other day.

...Still, she should get breakfast too, shouldn't she? It'd be a long day after all, especially if yesterday was an example of future days to come. Along the way, Olivia made sure to stop at the gas station nearby, grabbing two of the burritos from the rack to eat before her driver arrived. She briefly considered the thought of getting a car for herself, but that would mean getting readjusted to driving again. It'd be something she'd figure out later.

As Olivia stepped out of her ride, she found the members of the site gathered around the entrance. She found an open space in the crowd, and maneuvered inside. The same middle-aged bear from earlier stood at the front with a slim, suited cheetah off to his right. There was clamoring between the people there as the two addressed the crowd.

"Alright-settle down, settle down! Like I was sayin' since 'da layoffs corporates been upset with 'da effuht around heah, so we'll be having new schedules sent out as well some adjustments to ovuhtime pay and break lengt'." The bear explained to the crowd. He motioned to the sleek feline to his right, nervously. "Mistah, ah, Jackson here will be pahsonally ovahseeing the work here from now on 'ta make sure we meet the, ah, new deadline goals."

The cheetah motioned for him to stop, and Frank stepped backwards as he took the spotlight. "Yes, as Mr. Kotchitsky put it, there have been some concerns about the...understandable delays this project is suffering from with some reduced personnel. However, I believe that if everyone puts their best effort in these next few weeks, we can reach a stage of the project we'll all be happy with. Only the best from our little Diamondback family after all!" The smile he put on for that sentence faded quickly as he turned and waved a hand towards the crowd. "With that, you're all dismissed. Get to work."

With a few upset mutterings, the crowd dispersed to their places on the site, while Olivia's eyes followed the cheetah as he stalked back to the supervisor's tent. There was an odd familiarity from him somehow. Had he been one of the rich family's hers, close with? No, because he wouldn't be running a simple construction site; they couldn't be that powerful. But if not that, where? She shook her head. The connection could wait. Regardless, he was her way in.

"Ey, 'Livia, theah a problem or somethin'?" Frank was in his usual spot by the bulldozer line, checking off something on his clipboard.

Olivia would have to try and talk to the cheetah on a break or something. "No Frank, I'm all good! Just...waiting for the training you said was going to be today?"

He broke his concentration on the clipboard to look at her. "Trainin'? We ain't got any new tools or nothing."

"...Okay, but yesterday was my first day, right? So I just-"

"First day?!" That made the fat grizzly chuckle. "Yeah, and I been dreamin' the past five yeahs. Nice try 'dough!"

Olivia blinked before the full statement hit her. "Five years, no I-"

The yesterday suddenly seemed to stretch back much farther than it did before. Vague memories of being on site before her arrival the other day permeated her consciousness: her first real day on the job, the weeks of training, and the eventual cycle of getting up, coming to the construction site, and heading back home to her dingy apartment. That wasn't to say she didn't remember the portal, or most of her old life, but now with five years on her belt, she was getting used to the ritual of it all. "...Huh."

The bear sniffed, unaware of her existential dilemma. "Yeah, yeah. Funny and all that. You mind helpin' Chuck on the jackhammah today? Been having some issues on a hard piece ovah theah."

There was a vague familiarity to the name and what he was asking her to do now.

She nodded slowly. "Yeah I'll...get on that." She should've had no earthly idea where the equipment the bear was talking about, or who Chuck was for that matter, but as she stepped forward, her intuition seemed to kick in to guide her to where she needed to be.

Chuck, a goat as it turned out, and her new memories reminded her, was waiting patiently, leaned up against the yard's fence. With his instruction, she was able to drag the jackhammer to the area he was having trouble with, but her muscle memory seemed to kick in instantly as she flipped the switch to turn it on. Helping break up those rough spots with the goat ended up taking up most of her morning before the bell rang for a lunch break.

Olivia beelined for the administrators tent. Despite the new memories that had situated inside her mind, at the forefront was still the idea of getting her foot in the door to some kind of desk job she could work her way up from. She rapped on the edge of the tent to get his attention.

Hold on. Before she did, she tried to wipe off some of the sweat that caked her forehead as the sun beat down. Checking how she looked in a barrel of water nearby, she looked...presentable. Her fur had grown out the last half decade as it'd gotten more and more expensive to get the prim haircut she'd arrived with and the dust from the site tended to irritate her skin, so growing it out a bit had been more of a practical decision than anything. Certain parts seemed to have darkened with time, and her arm fur was a bit lighter, but that was obviously the dust getting into it. Still, she probably should've-

A "Come in." resounded from inside, before Olivia could retreat to try and clean herself up a little more. She swallowed the fears she had, and stepped inside. Natural charisma it was, then.

Stepping inside, she was immediately hit by a gust of air, as the fans inside seemed cranked up to their highest level. She couldn't help but feel jealous with how her and everyone outside were seemingly just left outside to bake. The admin supervisor had been reclining back on his phone in front of a wall of monitors that seemed to be keeping tabs on the site, but stood up as she entered the tent.

The cheetah stretched out a hand. "Hello. You would be...?"

"Olivia Chriswold, sir. It's a pleasure." She'd hoped there would somehow be some glimmer of recognition at the last name. There was none. Instead, there seemed to be a sort of frustration that someone had disturbed his lounging.

"Of course. Why did you need to see me, exactly? Is there an issue with productivity, people angry about the new changes...?"

"No, and-" she put in as much honey as she could into her voice, like how she'd talk to her father whenever she needed something. "-Personally, I think the changes have been great so far! It seems like people are really beginning to take this job seriously."

He seemed to preen a little at that. "Of course they have. You know, my father personally put me in charge of the project for his latest tower, and I had a good feeling the reductions in downtime here would do wonders."

She kept him going, and he was more than happy to spend a length of time talking about himself and his family, who seemed to be more than well-off in their own right. An uncomfortable reminder of her own. She upped the praises as the conversation continued, since he responded well to it, before finally dropping the question.

"Your help must have been instrumental." She agreed as he finished talking about a deal he'd helped his father close. "And you know, I was wondering if you could help me with something too, actually?"

Immediately, the smile dropped as the focus of the conversation shifted away from him, but his gaze remained on her. "...Yes? I am fairly busy today, so please hurry."

She swallowed again, and put it all out there. "I've...been here for a while now, and honestly I was thinking maybe this kind of work just wouldn't be for me...would you be able to, I don't know, talk to someone in administration about maybe getting me somewhere closer to maybe an accounting or desk position? I've gone to college for four years, and I think I have a variety of skills that could be useful! If you could-"

He interrupted her, chuckling to himself. "Silvia, was it? I'm sorry, there's no current need for anything like that right now, and even if there was, I'm afraid I don't believe in just 'handing out' positions."

"I-it's Olivia, actually. And I really don't want a handout!" Olivia corrected. "I'd be fine with something lower level if you would be able to-"

"As I said before, there's no need. Ms. Chriswold, I've told you about my family; we're all strong believers in personal responsibility. I'd believe you'd gain much for taking that account of your desire for a career change onto yourself, on your own time." He turned his back to her, and walked to the back of the tent. "I believe your lunch would almost be finished anyway."

Dejected, Olivia left the tent. Her closest opportunity for success had been firmly spurned, and she'd had to miss lunch, something her stomach's growling was happy to remind her of. The day dragged on, she worked herself to the bone helping with the supports and drilling, and somehow by the time she clocked out found herself in an even worse mood than the day before. Combined, the emotional injury of the denial and the physical labor sucked the energy out of her, to the point where as soon as she had gotten back to her other selves apartment, she collapsed onto the bed, hungry and tired.

Cooking was too much of a hassle with everything that happened, and she'd already skipped lunch, so it'd be fine if she ordered out right? Olivia dug out her phone from her pants pocket and used its internet to see if she could get a pizza or something. Getting to the website had been easy enough from the home screen, but she found the time it was taking to fill out the online form annoying. Why did she have to fill out so much when she could just call and order one instead faster?

Eventually, she persevered and had the order filled out, meaning she just needed to wait for her dinner to arrive. Until then, plenty of free time at her disposal. While she knew she probably should've, she didn't want to clean again. Or want to try, mainly. She had work tomorrow anyway, and stripping the bed and washing everything would take forever if it was already the evening.

Instead, she'd settled for installing a reading app and downloading some books onto the almost bare device. It'd been something she did often back home, the library often being a quiet source of relief from the expectations of her daily life. Occasionally though, a spare thought would drift back into what she was supposed to do in her current predicament now.

Maybe she really should've just...given up on it? I mean her boss had practically been her last resort anyways. She'd spent that first year killing herself trying to find easier work, but with the amount of non-responses and straight declines to interview further, it seemed like it just wasn't, well, working for her.

As the pizza arrived, there were few words exchanged between the deliverer and her as she paid for her meal. Finding a place on the counter top, for it, she popped the box open and grabbed a soda from her fridge. She had recalled how strange it felt on that first night, eating like this, away from all of the control of her family. Sure, this life wasn't great, but as she felt that gooey cheese and spicy pepperoni hit her tongue, the benefits of being able to live freely like this made themselves known to her again.

---

Day 3:

The alarm clock buzzed again, rousing Olivia from her slumber. She groaned, reaching out with her arm, and grasped for the alarm before finally getting the snooze button. Steadily, she slid out of bed, hitting the floor with a sound 'thump,' before making her way to the bathroom. She ducked slightly, just making sure her hair didn't get caught on a spare splinter poking out. She'd been dodging that haircut for the last couple months now, and she wasn't about to get an I-told-you-so from life now.

The 35-year old poodle mix couldn't help but look herself over in the mirror as she got her toothbrush out and squirted a glob of the minty paste on it. Her eating habits had certainly begun to take a toll, and she'd graduated from chubby to just plain fat. Her stomach poked out from under the T-shirt she'd been wearing for over a decade now like she'd shoved an overstuffed pillow under it, and her breasts had begun to sag from the weight she was carrying on her, but filled out most of her bras very nicely. She was lucky that for now her bras at least did a good enough job of making them look perky enough, at least when she was off-site, where people actually paid attention to her appearance over her work.

She'd have a good couple years 'til anyone could call her "middle-aged" though, at least.

Olivia pulled back the skin of her eyes, and saw the crows-feet that were settling in begin to reform back to the natural creases that were forming.

...Maybe not, then. But there was probably some makeup that could cover that, anyways, not that the black hair covering here wouldn't already do the job. No gray yet though, at least.

She huffed and shifted her weight, her thighs rubbed up against each other, frowning at the sensation. That'd be a bitch to deal with onsight, especially with the reduced breaks they had now. Would chafe like hell in her work pants. Her ass was definitely getting chunky too. Jostling it from side to side provided a jello-like wobble she was sure her pants from a decade ago wouldn't agree with.

That was when her nose picked up a peculiar funk. She looked around the bathroom, but didn't see anything out of place. She knew she'd cleaned the toilet a couple days ago, so what...?

She checked over herself running a hand through the coat of long curly black hair across her now. It was almost funny to think she'd arrived here eleven years ago clean shaven. Whatever she was mixed with had a lot of hair it wanted to grow, and the treatments to get it all shaved off for the "classic poodle" didn't seem worth the time and effort, though she did her best to trim it on her own time. Her hands, and probably her face now that she thought about it, were the only clues she wasn't just an abnormally large purebred. While the rest of her hair was a dark black, her hands and the lower parts of her face were a shade of brown she couldn't place. Another giveaway being her snout and, well, body being broader than the average poodle. Regardless of the color, it provided insulation during the cold nights, but those warm ones and dealing with it on-site during the day were starting to get uncomfortable.

Lifting up her arms, there was a definite 'funk' there. Hell, had she even showered last night? Olivia looked back out towards the bed. The pizza box from last night had tumbled to the ground, and laid flat against the floor now. She could barely make out the crumbs from the pizza she devoured littering the floor. Had she eaten the whole thing? Olivia might not have had lunch, but eating like that wasn't the greatest plan for watching her weight. She must've just passed out as soon as she got full.

...And for some reason she didn't have a lot of negative things to list about the experience. Sure the hair could be a hassle sometimes, and maybe the weight made it a little harder to shop for clothes, but thinking back to fourteen years ago when she'd got here, even in her act of rebellion she'd still felt all those restrictions, and the pain was fresh even though the exact reasons for why it was there were hazy. Her parents had been overly controlling for sure, and that was why she...hadn't gone back to college, right?

Yeah, that was what happened as far as she remembered it. As soon as she'd gotten her associates, and found an opening from all the eyes, she'd driven off to the city without telling them where she'd gone. Cut all contact, and started her own life. Had she driven past the family's R&D lab at some point? For some reason the location was firmly lodged in her mind.

It felt kinda...good to let herself go. Like she was actively spitting in the face of the people who'd wanted to control every waking step of her life. In moderation of course, she mentally added, this wouldn't be a habit. She'd definitely go out and get that hair treatment eventually, and try to pick up a salad or something for lunch.

Olivia spotted the time out of the corner of her eye. Goddammit, she didn't want to be late because of a moment of reflection of all things taking up her morning. Quickly, she threw a more than hearty helping of eggs and bacon on the grill as she got ready. She may have had a problem with fast food composing at least one of every meal a day, but Olivia wasn't stupid. She'd eventually figured out how to cook, and those skills paid off as she devoured her morning meal with relish. Slapping on another pair of work overalls and shirt from her closet, she ignored how her all fatty body seemed to press against every inseam as she shut the door behind her.

As she plodded onto the worksite, everyone seemed to be in a rush. Frank, of course, flagged her down first. His mood only seemed to have worsened, the bear seeming on edge as he greeted her. "Ey, Olive. 'The, ah, boss is in a tizzy today so you might wanna get to work helpin' on 'da diggahs."

Olivia narrowed her eyes. "What's the issue? Someone piss him awff-off?" she corrected.

He shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe he's just a feelin' like a hahdo today." Eithah way he's been on everybody's case all mornin'." He smiled for a second as he pointed at her. "Caught 'dat by 'da way. Someone's pickin' up the accent!"

She rolled her eyes. "I gotta taw-talk to a skid like you everyday, it was gonna happen eventually."

Frank snickered. "Prahbably. I'll see ya latah." From there they'd parted ways. He'd gone back to his clipboard, and Olivia had gone over to the bulldozer line to help with moving some gravel and girders.

Driving the heavy was definitely easier than the jackhammer or shoveling all day like she used to. After all, she'd been doing the job long enough that there wasn't much on the construction site she didn't use and give the why and when for. In the cockpit, however, she could still feel herself baking as the sun beat down through the windshield, and as she'd predicted before, the extra hair and 'insulation' wasn't helping. As the time for lunch came around, Cassie was still dripping with sweat despite not moving around to the same effect as she had other days.

Driving offsite, she was able to get some burgers from the place nearby. And some fries. And a shake. She worked hard! And besides, if she skipped out on filling herself up now, she might've eaten an entire pizza again like she had the other night.

Olivia's ride and then walk back to the campsite had been content, even as her thighs squished against each other once again, and her filled stomach growled contently. Her feeling of satisfaction was interrupted though, as she returned to the job site. A crowd had gathered in, and as she approached and forded her way in through a combination of size and weight, she could see Frank on the ground, clutching leg as he groaned.

"Frank!" Immediately, she knelt down to his level to see the wound. It wasn't deep from what she could see, but Roscoe, of the few people there with medical training, told him to back up and give him some space. She could hear someone in the back talk about how a new trainee hadn't been careful enough with one of the hammers, and a backswing went too wide. She could see Jackson "overseeing" the incident by how he was pacing back and forth in a panic.

"It's not my fault, I can still do this. It's not my fault, I can still do this." He muttered. Dad placed me in charge, so I need to-"

"Hey!" Olivia yelled. "We need an ambulance! I think Frank broke his-"

"No!" He whirled around on her. "No ambulances, not here. I can't let Dad know about this."

She motioned toward the bear that had mentored her. "So what the hell are we supposed t' do foah him?!" She asked, letting the accent slip. "His leg is broken, we can't-"

Justin snapped his fingers. "Take him back to where he lives or whatever, and call an ambulance. They can pick him up there, but I don't want this associated with me, alright?!"

The crowd was frozen while he unveiled the plan. Olivia was fuming. Denying her a job was one thing, but this? Was he fucking serious? He pointed towards the crowd.

"I said someone take him home! I swear to god, I'll fire you all right now if I have to. I'll have you in the streets!" He yelled, his voice shaking. With that provocation, two members of the crew lifted Frank by the shoulders, and helped him walk over to a spare van in the parking lot. He watched them drive away before he turned back to the group. "Nobody says anything about this. You do, and I'm personally shredding your employment forms myself. Now get back to work."

"We, uh, can't." A basset hound in the back piped up. "He was the foreman. He was, y'know, coordinating everything? Making schedules? Telling people where to go?"

"I-fine. Who here has enough info about the equipment and plans around here to coordinate the site?" A select group including Olivia raised her hand. She'd been around Frank long enough to see how the job worked, and as a courtesy he'd offered a little training for it as well. His slitted eyes landed on Olivia first, more than likely due to proximity more than anything else.The admin supervisor swiped the clipboard off the ground and shoved it into her stomach, making her gasp. "Congratulations, you've been promoted. Get everyone back to what they're supposed to be doing, right now."

As he stalked back to the office, she turned to face the uneasy crowd behind her. "...Alright everyone, lemme see what Frank wrote down."

For the rest of the day, she used the injured bruins existing notes to direct people back to the duties they were assigned for the day. It was honestly easier than being cooped up inside the hot, musty bulldozer, but the standing and moving between each site to keep everyone on track was doing a number on her already encumbered legs. She was able to make some casual conversation when she could, but everyone seemed shaken by Frank's injury. Olivia spared a contemptful eye toward the tent he'd gone back into after threatening all of them with their jobs, one she knew for a fact was air-conditioned. There was now earnest ire that had been built up for the cheetah, and the feeling of familiarity about the power used against her did not make her want to forget it anytime soon.

Still though, there was an odd naturality to her giving orders like that. Being responsible for how the site developed. A sense of rightness to it. Sure it wasn't like being a VP, something she'd almost quit the construction gig to try and work her way up from over a decade ago, but it just felt good to be at the helm of it all, and have other people take care of the work. The feeling carried her through the day and the overtime, until they all were allowed to leave the work zone.

Shoving open the door to her apartment she took a few steps before collapsing onto the bed, the springs of the frame wheezing for a moment as they took her full weight.

Her mind was still awash with the day. It felt like she'd been personally slighted twice now by that skinny little bastard, now threatening them to silence and calling her lazy. Her of all people!

What an asshole.

Olivia needed to unwind. Take her mind off things. She flipped out her cellphone and opened the reading app she'd installed however long ago, still on the last page of the murder-mystery novel she had downloaded. There was a tap every couple or so minutes, but if she'd had her attention drifting away the first time, it felt like time actually slowed down as she read, and it certainly wasn't because she was entertained. Highly reviewed her ass, they'd probably paid off an editor or something.

The phone wasn't exactly helping either. For every swipe that successfully turned the page, there were 3 or 4 that needed to be spent trying to make the menu that popped up go away, or finding the page she was on when she'd swipe too far below and accidentally hit the progress bar.

Her eyes drifted to the box TV she'd use for the news occasionally. Shrugging, a 'why not?' she dug around in the crack between the mattress and the wall, before finally finding the remote. The power button was an obvious red, and as its screen flicked on, Olivia found she had a fairly easy time navigating the channels. She flipped through several before finally stopping on a baseball game. The teams were popular enough, Red Sox versus the Angels.

Olivia found herself getting enraptured in the athletic competition much faster than she had in the reading, and while couldn't remember the last time she'd actually seen a baseball game, how it was played and what calls were what seemed to stick in her mind like flypaper. She must've seen a game or two in college before, because she seemed to settle in nicely as the game went on, though she couldn't say she agreed with the calls.

"He was fuckin' safe!" She yelled, ignoring the fact the umpires on the screen couldn't hear her. "Got blind guys out there, I sweah." Olivia got up, moving to the fridge. She needed a beer for this.

Her stomach growled. Some food too, probably.

She dug around in her freezer before pulling out some pre-made hamburger patties and dumped them into a skillet she fished out from under the cabinet. Following that, dumped some of the fries from the bag just below them into a cooking pan, and shoved it in the oven at high heat. She kept an ear trained to the television as she waited for it all to finish coming together, smiling as one of the Sox's batters hit the ball into the stands.

Dumping the cooking utensils in the sink, she grabbed a plate and combined it all to make a nice triple cheeseburger with fries for dinner. There was a satisfying hiss as she popped the tab on the light beer, sitting in the evening sun with some comfort food and the TV on in front of her. Olivia took the first bite of her burger, feeling some of the juices dribble down her chin. She lamented not getting napkins, but her arm was an easy substitute. She'd clean it off in the sink later anyway, even though secretly she was reveling in the filthiness as more juices continued to drip as she ate.

There weren't any expectations for her to be some glimmeringly clean princess anyway, not since she'd cut off her family. Just her, her food, and the ol' tube. What could be better?

The batter for the Red Sox struck out, ending that half of the inning as they went into the next, down by five. Olivia couldn't help but huff a bit in frustration as she took another bite of her burger.

Maybe all that and a better baseball team, for one.

---

Day 4:

The alarm next morning tended to be a little more annoying than it had the night before, the droning somehow penetrating deeper into her skull someone had taken one of the drills from the site. Olivia reached out a large, thick arm for the clock, feeling around the table until she could feel the smooth plastic of the digital clock. Her palm smashed over the top, the size of it large enough to hit the snooze button without actually aiming for it.

She groaned, and rolled out of bed, her feet hitting the floor with a thud that shook the water in the sink, if only for a moment. Hauling herself out of bed, she took some steps to the bathroom for her morning routine, grabbing her work clothes from where she'd left them on a chair the day before. Before she stepped inside, she let out a belch, releasing the pressure from her bloated stomach as she patted it gently.

Olivia ducked down so her head could get inside the bathroom, but brought it up too early before she was fully inside, bumping her head on the frame. "Fuckin' son of a whore-", hissing as she pressed down through her untamed hair to rub the spot. Her ass was another matter, though luckily she realized turning sideways gaver her the best chance to get through, even as her breasts and stomach rubbed up against the door frame.

Tossing her clothes on the toilet seat, she began her morning ritual. Using her toothbrush, she gave it her best two minutes, but with how large her mouth was in comparison, it felt like little actually got cleaned as she put it away, and that beer-breath would be following her another day. Her deodorant followed the similar process, more being used to cover her hairy underarms, but the thick musk of sweat and unwashed dog permeating through despite its best efforts.

Eh, she could say she tried.

Olivia caught a look at herself in the mirror before she bent over to pick up her work clothes. Well, "caught" being an understatement for how her fat frame dominated the mirror. She doubted she could avoid seeing it even if she wanted to. She'd definitely developed a second chin now, her face broad from both her general skeleture and the adipose that had begun to bloat her already sagging jowls, though still not fusing with her neck. With age those crows feet from before had deeped, though luckily her black fur came through once again to help cover them up.

Her hands and snout were the only parts still reminiscent of her poodle heritage from when her bastard father had gotten a bit too loose one night, having more of a gray-brown shade of fur on her hands and face, while her snout was just a bit too skinny.

Her hair was getting long and hard to control. Showering was difficult due to the small size of her rooms showerhead and the fact she was beginning to need almost a full bottle of conditioner if she actually wanted it to look good, though she'd begun styling it into a pouf as a method of controlling it and being able to squeeze it into a hardhat. The hair across her body was thick as her mastiff parentage wanted to show itself, especially affecting including her armpits and pubic area, but especially around her neck. While those areas were more patches until she could actually try to get to them (And god shaving her pubes was always a fuckin' hassle), her neck's hair had begun to grow out in full force, almost beginning to resemble a lion's mane purebreds tended to have, though it would likely never get that big on her. Again she remembered seeing a salon somewhere on her drive into the site that could've taken care of it, but that'd cost money and time to go there to get it done. Like most hygenic measures these days, the mastiff mix was beginning to just generally say 'fuck it.' At least the bulk of it made her seem younger.

...Though those strands of silver hair that had been popping up threatened to spoil that surprise, as her age caught up to her. She huffed. Couldn't stay a twenty-somehting forever, right?

Her breasts were definitely on the larger side now, the large watermelon sized masses needing much more support with their weight. She briefly rubbed her hands over them, feeling where they were held by the bra. She briefly uncupped one, feeling the soft weight sag onto her stomach as she let it go, before readjusting it to be more comfortable around her chest. She might've needed another size upgrade soon. Her arm-fat jiggled as she did so as well, the rounded hanks also beginning to lose their firmness with age.

Olivia's stomach sloped forward over the waistband of her pants like a beanbag, complete with stretch marks from her gorging nights, on the verge of not being able to be contained by her pants if her diet continued to spiral. It was already biting over her waistband, settling down into her lap and forcing her legs apart as she sat down. She'd gotten a decent treasure trail going now, though like with most of her body hair these days, but just couldn't give enough of a shit to take care of. Stretch marks had shown themselves on the sides from nights where she'd just decided to binge, and the soft mass had been stretched almost taut, though she did usually try and reserve it for more special days.

Her lack of care for a diet these days had left her with quite a heavier lower body too. Her cellulite-dappled hips flared out to the width of her stomach and rubbed against one another every time she took a step. She'd remembered one of the new hires saying she had 'cake' but couldn't help herself scoffing at how stupid the lingo the kids these days used sounded; though he wasn't wrong. Leaning on a hammer for rest as she walked around certainly drew attention to how it jutted out, giving her thighs just a little bit more width, and didn't take much to send the soft mass jiggling, though the musk from her rear on the hotter days tended to act as a good deterrent for any jackass that wanted to try something by itself.

She squeezed on her work gear, thankful that at least she was able to get the largest size for how just...big all around she was. Olivia was certainly owed it to, having the most seniority for the construction company just besides Frank, and even then she was hazy on whether he'd started the same week as her, or just after.

Her eyes flicked to the clock behind her. Goddammit, she was gonna be late. Grabbing the keys to her truck, she began the waddle outside to her truck as she picked up her keys. Before shutting the door, she spared a look towards the dirty plate and empty beer cans on the bed, conflicted for a moment on whether to go back and pick them up.

She shrugged, shutting the door. Wasn't that bad anyways, right?

---

Olivia stuffed the empty fast food bags from breakfast into the garbage can as she waddled onto the site, feeling the sweat under her hair begin to drip with each heavy step. She could see her heads pick up as she moved, the biggest in length and width on the site, and her own heavy scent a dead-giveaway.

"Hey, Olly, I know dumpster pickup still isn't until tonight, but twenty minutes late is a bit much, huh?" Someone to the side jabbed.

Olivia stopped in place, and looked over to where the comment had come from. Panting, she could see Mark, a wolf, standing on top of a crane while Roger, a housecat, was tending to the controls. She could almost remember when a comment like that would've sent her into hysterics. Now though?

She grinned. "Yeah, saw-ry. Had to get back from ya Ma's house. Gave me one hell of a hummah last night, yeah?"

He smiled at that. "Funny, 'think I would've remembered the floor collapsing if she did."

Olivia waved him off. "No suh! Still as much as a spinnah as I ever was. Her though?" She shrugged. "Might need a diet or somethin'!" That seemed to get him, and they both flipped the bird at each other in a good-natured fashion before she continued her waddle to the main station.

Finally getting there, she panted as she scanned over the schedules she'd made the other day. Sure she technically would've needed some kind of fancy-schmancy degree to supervise, but her seniority had bent the rules enough to let her get much farther than she should've. Olivia remembered getting a job at the construction site right out of highschool. Being a mastiff, an already large breed, owed to a lot of use on the sites she was sent to, which meant a whole lot of experience and eventually, not enough reason to send her up the ladder. Frank had been there a majority of the time though, the stupid goof, and again her brow furrowed as she got mad about the other day again.

She scowled. Fuckin' stuck up suit piece of shit.

Olivia just saw Jackson out of the corner of her eye, standing on a catwalk and watching over the site. Combined with the cameras around the site feeding into the tent, he must've felt like he was invincible. She couldn't hide her stink eye as she walked past him. For a moment, the two shared a glare at one another, before he relented and walked back into his tent.

She narrowed her eyes. Goddamn right he did. Olivia hiked up her pants around her fat ass and continued her cumbersome movement until she got to the first station to check in on as far as how everything was going; occasionally stopping to rip her underwear out of the sweaty wedgie it was getting stuck in. It might've been better if she had some kind of tablet like the cheetah had been riding her dick about, but as far as she was concerned, she'd take a pen and paper anyday. More reliable that way.

Certainly not because the last time she tried to use one for that she'd gotten so flustered one of the new hires had needed to show her how to log schedules. No sir, definitely not that.

From then it had been a slow gait to each station, and radioing people so she didn't have to bother with people individually. She did have to stop though, as she could see one of the new hires Alice, some kind of raccoon, stumble with a shovel almost to the ground. She could see the sweat pouring down her face, and while she wasn't close enough to tell if her pupils were contracting or not, the dazed look in her eyes was making the mastiff bet pretty heavily she was close to, if not already suffering from heat illness. She could recognize it from a mile away with how she'd had issues with it before learning to pace herself in the heat enough so her fat body and amount of fur didn't kill her with it.

"Hey, kid!" She lumbered close, and snapped the fingers of her large paw together under the raccoon's face. "You good? Hey-!" Olivia extended an arm to bring the kid to her feet. "Th' fuck'ah ya doin' dyin out heah? Take a gawd-damn break!"

The raccoon stumbled a little as she was pulled to her feet, but did her best to look Olivia in the eyes, though her nose wrinkled. "Sorry Olly, I-I can't. I need the money and-and the new overtime rules mean I gotta take the morning shifts. I'm fine, I'm gonna get some water soon..."

She absolutely wasn't and Olivia could feel her temper beginning to flare up as the raccoon tried to pick up her sledgehammer. Olivia ripped it out of her fingers and tossed it to the side, pointing back to the crew tents. "No, what'cha gonna do is go back to the tents and get checked fah fuckin' heat stroke. Ya ain't killin' yaself ovah some fuckin' ovahtime."

Alice still weakly protested. "But I need the hours..."

Olivia pinched her nose bridge and used all of her temper to try and not swear out the nineteen year old. Finally, she opened them again, quickly checking the camera couldn't see their talk from this angle. "Fine," she said, sneering. "You want some houahs?" She said, "Fahst thing ya gonna do is go down and get checked by the doc."

"But-"

"Second thing ya gonna do-" She fished her wallet out of her pocket and grabbed two damp twenty dollar bills, shoving them into the rabbits hands, who gingerly carried the sweat-covered money in two fingers. "Is get me some 'Dunk and McDanks. 'Bout as much as that'll get."

The raccoon was confused. "...And come right back? I don't-"

Olivia shrugged. "Howevah long it'll take. Maybe an houah or two. Maybe 'tree. But-" She pointed at her. "Just make sure 'dat shit gets back 'ta me by the end of my shift. I don't have it? Then fuckin' fuhgeddaboutit."

"And my hours? If Jackson sees-"

"Then he can't do shit. Ahready marked 'dis as 'gettin special equipment for a supahvisah.' He wants 'tah bop someone fah 'dis he'll have to come to me, and I don't owe 'im jack."

Alice looked down at the money and back to her, silent for a moment, but more lucid than before. Likely because of the shadow cast by Olivia's massive form. "...Thanks Olly, I won't forget this."

Olivia huffed. "Bettah fuckin' not. Like I said befoah, if that shit ain't back 'ta me by the end of mine then-"

"Forget about it." The raccoon muttered. "I remember."

"Good." She waved a hand to the entrance gate, sending her arm fat jiggling. "Now fuckin' get outta hea. Ya makin' me stand in the sun too long." As the raccoon walked off, her gaze drifted to the cameras on the lot again. That weasally little fuck had to go, but how?

Sure the cameras were set up, and she could probably get someone from the early morning shift to make off with the tapes before he arrived, not as if he had the technical know-how to check, but then what? An investigation by labor would take weeks if there wasn't some sort of special media whiplash-

Suddenly, the gears of her mind finally turned, and she remembered why the cheetah had seemed so familiar when he'd walked onto the zone. Olivia grinned toothily, and moved at a pace she normally wouldn't bother with to talk to the rest of the crew. She had a plan, and if it all paid off, that fuckin' chucklehead would be off the lot by the afternoon tomorrow.

---

Olivia shoved open the door to her apartment late that night, finishing gathering everything together before it all went down the next day. She'd imagined the plan would go off, but she'd never imagined it'd work so well as for someone to be able to snag the camera tapes while that igit had gone off site early to get his beauty sleep. Now, with the evidence handed off and calls made, it was time to celebrate.

Dropping the bags of donuts by the bed, burgers the raccoon had taken her sweet time getting earlier by the oven, she thumped over to her fridge and dug out a frozen pizza from the freezer, and a case-and-a-half of light beers from the bottom shelf of the fridge. Her time was spent checking between the pizza and the bags of burgers she tossed into the microwave, rewarming them, and cooking her pizza.

Ah, right. She needed something else. Olivia knelt down as much as her stomach let her, before going down on one knee to search the cupboard. Digging around, she finally tore out the specialty size dildo for the occasion, tossing it onto the bed, where it smacked the wall before it sat still on the sheets. Steadily, she migrated all of the foodstuffs to her place of sleep setting them precariously around her in a way she could access each and all of them.

She peeled off the sweat covered uniform from the day, and kicked off her pants, leaving her bare in her greasy bra and panties. Unrestrained by the cloth, she caught a whiff of her own stink, smiling as she crawled onto the bed.

Olivia dug up the laptop from the floor, licking her lips as the address she'd left on their last time finished loading up again. She may've been awful on most things with a touchscreen, but a dash of dedication one night had let her navigate herself to a porn site she just found easier not to close out of. Unpausing the video she stopped on last time, and perching it between the pads of her feet, her night began.

She began with a feast as she steadily dug the burgers and fried out of their bags and chowed down. Between all the processed meat and cheese, she occasionally gripped a handful of fries and shoved them in her maw. A drop of grease dripped down onto her breast, running down the length of it, not that she cared. After the first bag, she cracked open a can of beer, slurping it down and enjoying the feeling as the cold bitter drink slid down her gullet, and dug out a donut to finish the first round, savoring how the sweetness of the chocolate clashed against the beer. The pizza followed it, the greasy slices offering a sort of perverse palate cleanser before she started all over again. Who said she couldn't be a gourmet?

The night continued, and round after round she gorged herself more on the cheap foodstuff. It was a blur between the bags of food and drink as she kept her eyes on the models on the screen fucking one another. Eventually though, she felt out and grabbed for the dildo with a greasy hand, shifting to take her panties off. With gusto, she plunged the tip into herself and rocked back and forth, in and out, as her other hand kept busy with the food.

Eventually, the clock hit midnight and while her masturbatory her feast continued unabated, the final changes as the poodle was fully absorbed into this new old life took root, not that she would've been able to notice them anyway, as her mind seemingly overwrote itself to normalize that they had formed naturally..

More years piled onto her figure, the gray spreading into full streaks throughout her hair instead of just the speckles that had been here and there. Crows feet deepened, and her jowls sagged more as time manifested. Inside her bra, her breasts while swelling took up some wrinklage under the fur where her chest turned to fat, and that second chin dipped into a third. Her moans as the food continued to arouse her became more hoarse, as vitality was drained from her as the years rolled back and the weight piled on for the now 53 year-old pureblood mastiff.

That pure ancestry manifested itself as well, her snout and fur color catching up to what was expected in terms of their broadness and specific orange parts on her limbs and face. The bed seemed to become almost too small as she stretched out another foot and a half, though proportionally her body kept up with the unconscious stretch. The fluff around her neck finally grew into a full mane, thick for her breed as a defense against predators but modernly only really served to make those hot days agonizing without A/C. Her body hair grew to follow, her pits and pubic region becoming full, untrimmed and matted bushes of sweat-laden scruff; The treasure trail poking above her stomach before continued to follow its path to her belly-button, filling out from a measly 'trail' into what would be considered a wide and followable path.

Her breasts went through a period of swelling and sagging, at once filling up and out before the years took a toll and that new perkiness was immediately lost. Her bra, one of the largest sizes, could no longer contain the barrel-sized swells. The first sounds of ripping began to occur, but were interrupted as the fabric and elastic suddenly morphed into a custom bra, which her adipose-rich mounds filled to the very brim. Her bingo wings grew more akin to fatty balloons, the swollen biceps overshadowing the muscle she'd gained when she'd finished her first couple years of construction, but now with a vastly different filling as they hung from her arms.

Her stomach, refusing to be outdone, expanded with each movement as the huge dildo sawed in and out of her needy gash. Like a giant water balloon being filled, it expanded further and further, cresting in over on itself to make section separated by the navel as it grew, as hundreds more pounds made itself known to her; The soft but titanic mass even leaving her wheezing as she rocked back and forth and it slapped against her thighs, and the treasure path carved earlier coming to fruition. It was always agony working on the construction site with the thick sweaty apron slapping down over her knees between each mountainous step, though here it was bliss.

Her thighs and ass filled out once more like overfilled icing tubes used for a cake, the dappled cellulite texturing almost the entirety of that upper portion, even spreading to the bottom of her stomach as it filled from lard with years of an extremely high calorie diet coming to fruition. The soft ridge of her thighs thickened again, the thick hams rubbing against each other and helping keep the dildo lodged inside her as her arms steadily lost the ability to hold it past her stomach. Her buttocks grew similarly, into a complete shelf that would've been the crowning worst part of anyone's day if she would've fallen back in public and the swampy, sweat-stained thing would envelop some unfortunate soul.

"Yeshhh..." Ollivia drunkenly moaned, as she finished the pizza, cramming the last two slices in her maw. "Phuuuck yeshhh, Gahdammit!" She was covered in the greases, crumbs, and sauces of the food she'd just devoured, sweat pouring off her. Lashing out with an arm, she knocked greasy bags and empty cans to the floor, as she reached her climax. There was never anything more she'd felt better about than taking one of the family cars and dropping out of highschool completely to get away from her family. Years of forced temperance and repression, all burned away so she could live like the fattest slob under the sun. For all that whinging and blathering from her father about power and the family that barely remained in her consciousness from decades long ago since she'd seen the bastards, this was it for her. This was her apex, living like a pig in a sty if she so chose to, living as she wanted, eating as she wanted, and soon, doing the exact amount of little to no work she wanted. Being a total pig of her own accord.

Olivia finally came, the juices squirting from her cunt around the dildo itself as she let the pressure off with her thigh and let it slide out of her, wheezing and gasping for air in the humid, rank apartment room. The video fittingly came to an end as the stars finished inside each other, and the video soon faded to black. Her vision swam spectacularly from the effort, a mix of a glut of alcohol and food bloating her stomach and tiredness from both that exertion and the day lulling her into a veritable coma of sleep. Panting and wheezing, the inebriated mastiff known widely as 'Olly' in this new life smiled. Though, as her drunken brain shut down to finally rest, it was able to squeeze out another thought that almost ruined the moment.

The hangover from this was gonna fuckin' suck.

Day 5:

The alarm clock went off, and the usual buzzing occurred, before it went silent again. Five minutes later, it went off again- even louder as the alarm angrily called to be put to rest, but went unanswered as it felt silent again.

At its loudest, the alarm clock belted out to be put to rest-

And was subsequently pulled out of its electrical socket as a pillowy arm reached over and knocked it to the floor. Olly slowly rolled over, peeling herself off the sheet still damp with her own juices, hearing the bed gasp as she rolled onto her back to see the ceiling. The sunlight, warm and inviting, poked through the shades and she scowled as she held up a hand to try and block it out, before it immediately went to the pounding in her skull. She groaned, remembering glimpses of the passionate last night as she adjusted where she was, only to knock more food containers and empty cans onto the ground. Her panties were still down, the dildo shoved away by her thick leg during the night, onto the ground as her thick fupa preserved her modesty. Sweat still trickled down her forehead as a result of the heat of the summer sun and copious amounts of hair and fat that encompassed her body providing convection.

Steadily, using the head of the bed as a rail, Olly lifted herself up to the sitting position to get. She rocked back and forth, earning no small amount from the bed before pushing off and landing on her feet with a massive 'thud.' Taking a few lumbering, heavy steps to the bathroom, and dismissing her own obvious indent, she struggled to get inside; The folds of her stomach lodging in the door after ducking down to squeeze through her breasts. Freedom came from a few shoves that sent ripples upon her ponderous form later, where she hastily squirted toothpaste onto the brush as the slob went about her morning. "Gawddamn doah's..." she muttered, frustrated that her request to have hers widened obviously hadn't been acted on by the office yet. She didn't deserve to deal with this shit when she had such a killer hangover. Especially not at her age.

After finally lumbering through her morning routine and circumnavigating the doors, Olly gave a lingering glance to the sweat covered work clothes on the floor. She bent down, feeling her stomach lay on the floor as she reached for her shirt, the soft mass a surprisingly rigid obstacle as she reached out for it. She spent the better part of ten minutes angling herself to best pick it up before the hardness in her gut suddenly released and a long, loud fart ripped out of her rumpled asscheeks, though seeming to provide just enough of a pressure release to grab the shirt in her large mitts.

Olly huffed indignantly. However many years of being this big and that part was always still annoying. Sniffing it, her nostrils, blunted by her own overwhelming scent, determined it to be fine until she would dump a load of clothes into the washer downstairs over the weekend. It certainly worked for showers, and it at least meant she saved change for superfluous trips to change anyway. Not that she was too lazy to go down in the first place, it was just...better saved for later. She dug the decade old smartphone out of her pocket, and flipped it on before stumbling through her log-in screen. Fuckin' kids technology had to be so complicated.

Olly remembered when she'd just been able to carry a thick phone-shaped phone on her belt without having to worry about breaking the fucking thing if she sat on it wrong. Didn't need a touchscreen, didn't need a camera, didn't need texting, just needed to make a fuckin' call alright. Though as she finally finished the lock-screen puzzle, a notification from the site popped up before her sausage-finger could tap on it. Swearing, she tapped around the phone until she finally found her messages app. Squinting and reading through it, she grinned while reading the contents. Last night's celebration wasn't spoiled, and everything had still gone off perfectly.

As Olly left her room, and squeezed out of the elevator at the bottom floor, she passed by the check-in desk as a hamster read the morning paper. He sniffed, not looking at her.

"Mornin' 'Olly. Another noise complaint last night."

She responded in turn. "Mornin' Bill." She rasped, her voice husky and gravelly. "Doah's still too fuckin' small."

His eyes flicked above the paper for a moment. "I'll talk to management again."

She grunted. "Fuckin' bettah." As she passed through the complex's double doors to the parking lot, she could feel the AC of the lobby transition to the warm morning air. Already the sun was out and beating down from the sky, and she could feel the cool safety of the lobby air abandon her as she plodded to her car.

Crossing the street to the other parking, she cupped her head for a moment, still in the throes of the hangover. A car screamed to a stop directly in front of her as she crossed, and a familiar white rabbit leaned out the window again. "Hey fatass, watch-"

In one large step her form was already over the car, placing a hand on the hood while she reached in and pulled the rabbit halfway outside his window, getting close to his face, scowling while she bathed him in awful morning breath. "Hey, jackass. Drive bettah." Shoving him back inside the car, he sped off immediately from the mastiff as she spit into the asphalt, before continuing her long waddle. "Fuggin' jerkass..." she muttered, lumbering onto the other side of the street.

Saving up her money over the years had let her buy a truck she could fit her overwhelming bulk in, and seated the tall mastiff without her head hitting the ceiling for once, though the canopy still creaked as she shoved her couch of a rear into the seat. Turning the key, the engine finally roared to a start as power coursed through the truck, and cool air finally relieved the sweaty canine. The radio played one of the newest pop tracks as it turned on, before Olly grit her teeth and immediately switched it to the 'Classics from the 80's' station she preferred instead. She grinned as the tunes of Bon Jovi replaced what had sounded to her like nails on a chalkboard. 'Top hit of the week'? Please. She'd take a song from when they really made music over that trash any day.

Pulling out of the apartment's parking lot, she made her way to the construction site, looking forward to seeing how the rest of the day would go considering last night had gone off perfectly, even as the migraine from last night's drinking followed her closely.

---

"...Get back to work, all of you! You have jobs! What do you think you're doing?!" Jackson screamed, red-faced at the crew gathered around the starting area, generally just hanging out. "I-We are on the clock! There's a deadline!"

"Nah," A white schnauzer playing cards with a beagle said calmly, "Stuff's getting sorted with management. Can't do anything without admin here."

The cheetah narrowed his eyes. "Admin-? I am the "admin" and I am telling you all to get back to work! How are we supposed to meet our deadline with you all sitting around?! We need tools going here!"

"Problem with management, boss." Said the mustached hound. "We're union, and we ain't getting paid for the time. Not on us."

The suited cheetah began to quiver with rage. "You won't be getting paid because anyone who is still standing around in the next five minutes will be fired. Now all of you-" he was interrupted as his nose scrunched suddenly, as a rancid smell filled his nostrils, like a dumpster full of onions left out in the sun.

He gagged from the stench. "Wh-what is that? Did a sewer line bust or something-?" Loud, heavy steps interrupted him, moving in a slow rhythm behind him. He could see the water in the barrel nearby ripple slightly with each 'thud'. The smell was as strong as ever as his shadow was dwarfed by a much larger one.

The schnauzer sniffed, and his nose scrunched up for a moment before he went back to the game. "Hey 'Olly. Traffic kill you on the way here?"

"Eh, crash on 'da way 'Fuckin' boys around it n' everything. Tellin' ya, place is goin' down tha' gawddamn toob."

Jackson slowly turned around, craning his neck up to see the massive, 8 foot tall Tibetan mastiff. He had to take a step back as her ponderous gut with that thick trail bulged out of the bottom of her shirt, unable to be contained by her pants or shirt as it hung down by her knees. He could swear he could see a fly or two land on an ear before it flicked up. Despite her slovenly appearance, there was an intimidation factor to the mastiff, her size, weight and smell was intimidating like some fat ogre had walked out of a storybook and put on some construction PPE.

He tried to compose himself. "Ms.Chriswold! How nice of you to join us an hour into the workday. I'm unsure what information has made its rounds so far, but you need to get your people into gear. Just sitting here an hour like this has already cut into our deadline-"

"Aw yeah, hang on." Olly pointed out to the crowd of waiting workers. "All yiz feel free t' pack it up! Ain't doin' shit tahday." She smirked, waving a fat arm. "Get outtah heah, ya fuckin' losahs."

Jackson twitched, his eyes almost bulging in anger. "No!" He pointed a finger at her, and then at the crowd. "I don't care if this is some union thing or not. You all will take shifts to work on the project. I am in control here and we will-"

Olly tilted her head, smiling meanly. "Yah 'da one in cahntrol? Well 'dats news tah me. Es-pecially wit' all da' fuckups yah've been makin' lately."

He narrowed his eyes. "I'm sorry?"

She scratched her ear under the hardhat. "Aw yeah. I mean, people gettin' hurt, comin' down wit' heatstroke, 'dat kinda 'ting." Olly looked him in the eyes. "'Specially if someones got ahold of yah given' 'th ordahs." She leaned back, scratching the scruff of her chin. "An' ez-specially if daddy's tryin' tah win mayah, right? May-be naht lookin' so haht? Could be bad fah 'da fella, I imagine."

His eyes flicked back to his tent nervously, where the surveillance station had been set up. "I...don't know what you're talking about," he said coolly keeping an eye on the crowd as some began to smile, "but if this is some kind of threat, let me make it clear my family and I don't tolerate threats, and I can have you blacklisted-"

"A 'treht?" She said, cutting off the 'h' in threat. "Nah, a 'treht implies ya ain't done it yet." Her eyes almost glinted as they stared into his. "N' I already have."

His cellphone suddenly lit up on his belt, breaking their eye contact as he looked down at it, and then back up at her.

"'So's 'da light dawnin' on maw-blehead heah? I bet daddy's gaht somethin' impahtant to tawk about." Her smirk turned to a sneer, as she leaned in close, and he almost choked on her putrid breath as it flooded his nose. "Get awff my site ya fuckin' gump."

He took a few steps backward from her, and then turned his back to bring the phone up to his ear as he walked out of the entrance and around the corner. She could catch a few words of begging before he got out of hearing range, just as his voice was beginning to crack.

She laughed. Fuckin' served him right. She could hear some whooping behind her as the feline was driven from the site, as her coworkers, some for over twenty years now, celebrated the stinking mastiff for her plan to get him away from their jobs though, though keeping a little bit of distance, all too aware of the stench.

It was about an hour later as she squeezed back into her apartment when she got the call. Her phone vibrated from her pocket as management rung her up again, what was more than likely a continuation of the text she had already gotten that morning. She fumbled with the green phone icon, swiping over it a couple times and bringing up the weather once before she finally got it.

"Heya, s'Olly, '' she drawled. Uh-huh, yeah I get 'da projects gotta keep movin' but ya just gonna have 'ta fuckin' deal with-." Her brow furrowed as the voice of one of the upper management agents made an offer for her to occupy a certain position that just become suddenly open..

She scratched her chin again, smiling shrewdly. "Can't say I'm naht interested, but..." She flopped onto the bed, her half-a-ton of weight making the bed's springs scream out in agony. Time to see how much she could milk from those motherfuckers at corporate.

"Let's tawk ah-comma-dations, fuhst."

---

.

"...And ovah here's the non-powah equip-ment. Ya got 'dat?" The bear said, waving a gloved arm towards the steel shipping container, clipboard in hand as he showed the new trainee around the facility.

A bluejay, they nodded fervently as they tried to burn the location for the hand-tools into their mind. Didn't want someone to go tell them to get something and now not know where the place they'd need to find it was after all. Even if this was their first real job, they didn't want to make that blunder. He'd begun to approach a large tent in the corner of the site he'd walked by, and almost gone in to see who he was supposed to report to before someone hurriedly stopped him and pointed him towards the bear at the front instead.

The bear had a bit of a limp as he walked with the brace on his leg, but assured him he'd never felt better after he'd finally been allowed to come back after it'd healed and he'd been reimbursed for the damages. The bird remembered some lawsuit or something happening with the company a while ago, but for the life of him hadn't paid attention to any of the details. Something about "gross labor violations'' by someone in charge who had been related to a mayoral candidate? All he knew now was that apparently it had ended in a lawsuit and the candidate stepped down for that run.

The overseer, Frank, held out a hand to stop him as they neared the entrance again. "...Ohp, hang on lemme talk to 'Olly fuh a sec, make suah the boys ah on track and everything. Be right back." The bear vanished through the folds of the tent, though as he did a brief gust of cold air splashed into the jay's face as he stood there. It felt nice, but at the same time was...oddly foul smelling? He rubbed his beak while he shifted on his feet. There was an odd reverence to how people seemed to discuss this 'Olly' on the construction zone; both respect and dire warning about either her habits or smell, but still an assurance that he'd need to meet her before the day was out, for some reason.

His curiosity grew, and before long he stepped in front of the hanging tent flap to go inside, while the sounds of construction continued all around him. What was taking so long? He weighed the pros and cons of just walking in. They did say he'd have to meet her eventually, right? Why not just do it now and get it over with? He undid the flap, and quickly stepped inside. Almost immediately, that musky, sweaty scent became stronger, though he grit his teeth and followed it. This must've been where they tossed dirty laundry or something.

He followed the tent to the back, his level of disgust rising as the scent slowly became stronger and stronger, before making it to the back of the tent, where he finally saw Frank talking one of the biggest canine anthros he'd ever seen. The tent was about 10 feet tall, and she seemed to be only just a foot under it, with an unruly cushion of hair taking up a couple inches. She was spread out in what looked like one large reinforced bench, her ass almost filling the thing entirely as it groaned under the weight, and where her thick hairy stomach, unable to be held by her pants and shirt due to its size, sagged between her legs like an amorphous blob. Her breasts almost kept her pillowy arms from being able to reach remote to the monitors in front of her, while she gripped a walkie-talkie in one orange fur-covered hand and a box of average sized donuts in the other, eating another every pause in the conversation. The stench was at its worst here, and he gagged from the awful smell of raw onions and sweat as he got close enough to them both, her dense fur still moist with sweat despite the chilled interior.

Their conversation about how the latest Red Sox game had turned out came to a halt as his gagging interrupted them, and he stumbled out into the open. The canine's gaze lazily drifted to him as he retched. "So 'dis's 'da new guy, eh? Seems he's almost ready 'tah fuggin' bang out."

The bear slapped him on the back and waved a hand at her. "Ah, fahgeddit. Everyone who comes in heah th' fahst time does 'dat, come ahn."

He leaned down, and steadily pulled him up while he was stil gagging. "Dis's Olly. She, ah, took ovah the construction supahvisah position from th' last guy, but she's been heah longah 'dan me. She'll keep an eye on yah, kid."

"What am I, yah fuckin' muthah?" She griped, staring daggers at Frank and him. "Yah can take caeh of yaself, I just keep yah fuckin' dumbasses from gettin' killed on my site."

"...So that bag of donuts ain't from Rahchelle after yah gave hah a break?" he said lifting an eyebrow. "Cause I coulda sworn..."

Olly rolled her eyes. "Puh-lease. Jackass wanted 'ta gedda break on company time. Came back tryin' tah bribe me 'widdem."

"Ahn did it wahk?" Frank asked innocently.

"I mean, it's a union somethin' or othah, I just..." Olly seemed to struggle to refute the claim before narrowing her eyes at him. "...Just geddafuck outta heah Frank. Ahn't yah supposed 'tah be trainin' dis muddahfuckah anyway? Bet he let all 'da cool air out comin' in." She waved her hand over and turned her swollen back to the two. He could see a thick fold of back-fat peeking out just beneath the hem of her shirt. "Why it's geddin' so haht in heah allova sudden."

Frank snickered, offering a mock-bow. "Ahf course ya majesty, as ya wish."

He clapped a hand on the blue-jay's arm and turned him around. "C'mahn, gotta show you how the diggah's wahk. Y'know, th' engines actually-" The fat grizzly was cut off by the flap of the large tent falling back down.

She huffed. Fuckin' bozo. Though, she switched to another screen, where the hamster that had given her the donuts seemed to be all rested up and ready to get back on the job. Olly figured she'd take another ten minutes at least, but she supposed gettin' another break wouldn't exactly be expensive with how cheap most of her bribes were. At least, not accounting for bulk sizes.

Still! She wouldn't let this all run to Chelsea for her grub. After all, the best way to get more was riding that fine line of allowing rests and radioing to get back to work once they were recuperated, so she could meet the new deadlines and keep the cushy job she had now. Ironically enough, it was all a sense of balance; Which as she tossed an empty donut box to the side and reached back into the pile for a case of twinkies, assured herself she most certainly had. The project would be done when it was fuckin' done, and as head of the union, corporate certainly wasn't willing to come down to deal with her personally and push her on how to run her site. Her years of seniority had been spent building a reputation with the management side that'd made them want to see as little of her as possible, giving her and her crew mostly free reign of the projects they were put on, with her at the head.

Olly leaned back on the desk as she basked in the freedom of it all, letting her sweaty back fat envelope the edge of the table, a burp erupting that sent donut crumbs flying as she absentmindedly scratched under a boob. She casually switched between screens thanks to a button on the console, clearly labeled for her use after her...technological difficulties were realized. No walkin' around, no more havin' to worry about settin' up the paperwork since Frank had come back after healing up, letting her fully focus on running the show...and keepin' her fuckin' chuckleheads from dying on the job. She controlled how fast everything moved and who did what from her air-conditioned room with as much grub as she could shove in her mouth. No expectations, no temperance, no overbearing parents or controlling legacy, just...her. Olly shoved a cream-filled sponge cake in her mouth, savoring the taste.

Just like she always wanted.