FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Ocean looked out over his namesake, nearly resting his brow against the frame of the bus window. The airedale terrier gazed upon the waves, trying to take his mind off the intensity of the vibrations resonating through the large vehicle from its engines and the texture of the asphalt road. He had his legs spread as far apart as he could for the same reason, his poor sweatpants straining to contain the size of his loins. The passive stimulation from being in a moving bus like this meant that his sheath had dropped into the garments, adding greatly to the strain and reminding him to not let his arousal to grow any larger for the time being.

The grey and black canine pulled his smartphone out of the pocket on his worn leather jacket. With a press of his thumb pad, the device unlocked, revealing the ad he'd looked at countless times leading up to this trip.

The Seaglass Foundation was offering to provide support for men going through their 'second puberties' as it was euphemistically called. It didn't happen to everyone, and for some it happened immediately after their initial puberty, so seamlessly that it was one great process. But for Ocean and the majority of other dogs who inherited the gene, it started sometime after the completion of the frontal lobe's development, as if to taunt them for finally thinking straight.

In the last month, Ocean's sexual organs had begun to grow fairly consistently. Most support things he found online were clearly written with sexually active males in mind. Even during actual puberty the terrier had very little libido. He had grown comfortable with his understanding of his asexuality. But then this new rush of hormones hit.

He still had no desire to sleep with anyone, but he'd learned very quickly that he needed condoms just to keep things clean in his small apartment. He blushed a bit at the memory of his first nocturnal emission, waking up at four in the morning to find himself soaking his bedding, and he hadn't even reached climax that time!

Ocean shifted in his seat, realizing the thoughts were making his loins stir once more. He looked down at his phone and his eye was drawn back to a portion of the ad that didn't explain itself. In amongst the services and products that they had available, there was the vague word 'Collections'. The dog had only seen that used to refer to repo in the past and wondered if the equipment was rented and not sold... well if it wasn't a good deal he could always walk out, right?

The bus rolled to a halt on a shoulder overlooking a seaside cliff. The driver stood up. "Ocean?"

The terrier perked up, fidgeting with his sweatpants to make sure he was at least somewhat decent, before standing and starting to the front of the bus.

The Chihuahua driver gestured for Ocean to exit, significantly shorter than the terrier by at least eight inches. It was abundantly clear why he had to stand up to get attention. "Don't gotta bother with your pants." The short-furred canine chuckled as the fluffier dog got close. "Every guy who goes to this stop is some degree of bulging or other."

"Good to know." Ocean muttered, blushing behind the grey curly fur on his face.

"F'r Seaglass there's a Cliffside ramp, nice easy walk." The driver pointed at the path coming off the shoulder, next to the sign indicating it was a bus stop. He pressed the button to open the passenger door, actuating the pistons with a hiss.

The terrier nodded, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jacket as he carefully walked down the steps, keeping his thighs spread wide to keep from adding stimulation to his heavy endowment, and out onto the dirt shoulder.

The walk down the ramp was as easy as the bus driver said it would be, though it was certainly long. The path itself was quite wide, not quite enough for most cars, but definitely for mobility devices. He wondered if there were guys with his condition that needed electric wheelchairs as he looked out over the water.

Up ahead was a structure, a very clinical looking building from a distance. It was built in the small area between the cliffs and the high tide line, the rest of the way to the sea open white sand beach. A tall wooden fence traveled that distance as well, stained with where it was sometimes submerged, terminating in a rounded, padded pole amongst the waves.

The fence seamlessly joined with the one out front of the building itself. Once Ocean was at the bottom of the raft, in fact, he could only see the very top of the building anymore. Set into the barrier was a gate, blending most of the way in, apart from the track where it opened and closed. There was a small metal box on a pole near the front.

Ocean looked over it. It was some kind of optical scanner, but there was no intercom button or anything. How did people drop in? He pulled his phone out to look at the ad again.

There was a QR code at the bottom of the ad page.

The terrier spread his fingers to zoom in on the QR code and set his phone screen in the path of the scanner. He jumped a bit at the loud buzz that came from the box, nearly dropping his phone. As he set his phone back in his pocket, he turned to watch the gate open up.

Through the gates was a small but rather expensive looking courtyard. Ocean walked through the gate, looking around, spotting mosaics on the ground below. It looked as though they used tumbled sea glass to form the various representations of seashells.

As the gate closed behind him, Ocean heard another buzz, and a small light next to the door on the building in front of him turned green.

Shifting his weight awkwardly, the terrier opened the door, looking inside. Smooth polished floors greeted him, along with wide, tall doorways leading out of the reception area. Behind the reception desk itself was a slender afghan.

The receptionist smiled and gestured with one arm. "Walk-ins are welcome. Please head down that hall to clinic room B. A nurse will be along to take your vitals while you wait for a doctor."

"D-don't you need to see my insurance?" Ocean was a bit taken aback by how straightforward the instructions had been.

The afghan placed both arms down on the desk in a neutral position. "We are a non-profit clinic, operating mostly off of our product sales."

Nodding, the terrier headed for the indicated hallway, still walking with his thighs rather spread. Product sales... he wondered if he could afford the kinds of equipment he needed to care for his issues. Thankfully, room B was the second and not the twenty-fifth room or something. Ocean took off his leather jacket once he was through the doorway, revealing his loose button-up shirt beneath. The curly-coated dog idly thought about just how miss-matched his clothes were as he hung it on a hook on the backside of the door.

Fishing his phone out, he carefully turned to sit on the edge of the operating table, very careful to not pinch his scrotum or, much worse, his testes. Ocean opened his phone, checking if there was a Wi-Fi he should use or if his cell signal was still good.

Before the terrier could ascertain the connection situation, a golden retriever walked into the room wearing scrubs. The goldie smiled. "Certainly glad to see that ad is still bringing in walk-ins."

"Should... I have called to make an appointment?" Ocean asked, fidgeting. The receptionist had brought it up as well. Were they sincere that it was alright?

The nurse smiled and waved a hand-paw lightly. "It's fine. Gives me time to take your vitals before a doctor is free to see you."

Ocean followed the golden retriever's instructions through all of the standard checks that he was used to at a doctor's office. After each check, the nurse tapped down results on a tablet instead of writing them on a form. Everything was going so smoothly and the terrier was wondering when he'd hit the catch.

A broad shouldered boxer walked in the door, wearing a white physician's coat over his dress clothes. He had a tablet in one hand, looking over them. "Looks as though data gathering is almost done."

"Just need a blood sample, then I'll be out of your way doctor." The goldie smiled and opened up a small case, revealing a drawing needle with a vial, fully sterilized, of course.

Ocean swallowed and fidgeted at the sight of the needle, doing his best to stay still.

The nurse approached, holding it carefully. "Alright, thigh is the best place to draw from, and you'll need to reveal yourself eventually."

Blushing, the terrier nodded and shifted his hips on the seat. He dug his thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging them forward. He quivered as he felt his scrotum swing back and land against the cold metal edge of the table.

Carefully, the golden retriever used alcohol-soaked gauze to sterilize a spot on Ocean's inner thigh. "Now, just hold still." The nurse didn't seem to notice or care that the terrier's heavy balls were sagging a good foot away from where his scrotum connected to his hips.

Thankfully, in Ocean's opinion, he'd managed to get back into his sheath on his way from the bus to the examination room.

The nurse was skilled with this method, as by the time Ocean looked, the golden retriever had two vials of his blood and had already removed the needle. Another gauze was tapped over the spot, soaked with something that he hadn't seen the label of. It stung lightly, so it might have been alcohol again.

"I'll have the results to your tablet as soon as the samples are analyzed." The nurse nodded politely to the doctor, then to Ocean, before walking out with the samples and the tablet he'd been using.

The doctor pulled up a stool with a bare hand, the other wrapped in a smooth glove. "May I?" The boxer held out the gloved hand beneath the terrier's pendulous scrotum.

Ocean nodded. "Of course." He bit his lip a bit... Think clinical thoughts, think clinical thoughts...

"How far into the transition would you say you are?" The boxer gently felt over one teste, then the other, each large enough to overfill his hand easily.

"I noticed the change in libido and extra mass start about a month ago." The airedale terrier responded, toes curling in his shoes.

"Well, you're nowhere near done growing." The doctor said evenly, sitting back on the stool and pulling the rubber glove off. "But I figured you guessed that, or you wouldn't have come in today." He tapped on his tablet carefully as he spoke.

Ocean nodded. "Yeah... I'm just barely keeping things clean with over the counter condoms and... uh... sweatpants."

"We have several sizes of supportive undergarments, but those will outlive their usefulness as you grow and need to be replaced..." The doctor turned his tablet to show Ocean what appeared to be very large and quite complicated jock straps. "And we aren't sure how large you'll be just yet. Experiencing much leakage?"

The terrier nodded, fidgeting. "Yeah... wearing a condom overnight."

Tapping along the touch-screen again, the doctor brought up images of various sized tubes with large tanks affixed at one end. "We also have different sizes of milking machine to relieve pressure before bed. Endorphin rush from orgasm is a wonderful sedative as well." He hmmed, tapping his chin with his free paw. "Though that really has the same sizing problem."

Ocean nodded, trying to keep his mind open... he was expecting to feel uncertain and uncertainty was in abundance.

The boxer smiled. "We do have another option that won't result in you paying for so much redundant equipment, but it's a bit more... involved."

"How do you mean?" The patient asked after a moment.

"We can artificially induce your growth to be over a day or two rather than the next few months, but that comes with the conversion treatment." The doctor explained.

Here it was: the other shoe was dropping. Best case scenario they could counter this 'second puberty' and get him back to normal, but that seemed rather unlikely. Ocean shifted in his seat. "Conversion?"

"Well, here at the Seaglass Foundation, we have many dogs like you who are just too big for regular circumstances." The boxer entered what Ocean could tell was a practiced speech. "We have a method of altering your natural output, allowing your body to produce specific proteins and powerful antibodies useful in creating serum treatments for different diseases. Most of our funding comes from the production of these ingredients for the greater medical community."

Whatever he had been expecting, the terrier hadn't thought of that. He thought back to 'collections' in the ad. Was this what that was about? "And... if you did the conversion, it would force my body to grow to its... uh... mature size?"

"Yes. From experience we know the conversion is not painful, but it is... intense." The doctor held out a hand. "Also, until the alterations are reversed, you would be sterile, as you would not be producing any gametes."

Ocean allowed himself a bit of a chuckle at that. He had no intention of impregnating anyone... was the other shoe flying back into the air? There had to be a proper catch. "So... what all would change from conversion, besides my genitals, that is."

"The growth will affect your entire body. Most subjects grow upwards of a foot taller from the treatment. Abdominal fat deposits developing are a very common side effect, but so is increased muscle mass, especially to the chest. None of our 'producers' have any trouble getting around... I'm sure you saw how wide the hallways are." The doctor typed on his tablet. "And of course, you wouldn't fit in any of your clothes because of this. Another thing. If you become one of our producers, you are agreeing to move into the facilities here."

There was the shoe drop. "Oh... yeah you'd probably want to protect the 'product', huh?" Ocean scrunched his muzzle a bit...

"After alteration, you would need release every twelve hours, and your production would be so great that it would be impractical for you to contain it yourself and send it here for processing." The doctor explained, before turning his tablet around.

On the screen was an image of a massively muscular mastiff, walking down a smoothly polished hallway. His pectorals, even at rest, jutted forth from his neck so much that the tip of his snout would not reach past their apex. His round stomach, however, jutted even further forth, swaying as he stepped. His sheath was thick, the pursed opening nearly as wide as his wrist.

But the most striking thing was the mass of fur dragging behind him. It took Ocean a moment to realize. Those were his testicles. They reached nearly all the way up to his hips, resting on the floor! He started to notice the scale markers as well. The dog's head was near the ceiling of the hallway he was in, which must have been eight feet up or higher. The terrier swallowed. "Is that... normal within your list of side effects?"

"The expansion of your testes is part of the alteration, yes." The doctor said evenly, tapping the screen with a swiping motion. This camera view was of a cafeteria. Half a dozen men each as large as the mastiff were seated at specially made tables, eating large portions of food. "Our facilities are specially designed to accommodate our 'producers'. I'm sure you saw the privacy fence?"

"Yeah?" Ocean said distantly, marveling at the men he saw on the screen.

"That's because you would have full reign of the private beach." The boxer explained, turning the tablet back around as it dinged. He tapped at the screen while continuing. "We have exercise classes and activities organized by your fellow producers, all helping to keep you healthy and happy for however long you decide to stay with us."

The terrier bit his lip, lost in thought. That was a very big shoe to drop... but it didn't seem all that heavy to him. He wasn't looking forward to going back to his crowded apartment in the city, for one. He often walked around that little space naked as it was.

"It's a vibrant community, and you'd be paired with a more experienced 'producer' to help ease the transition." The doctor nodded. "And of course, our facility is more than capable of anything you'll be able to throw at us after conversion. Living here, your production will more than pay for living expenses, so you will be receiving a salary."

"I'll do it." Ocean said firmly. He'd not been sure when he was sold, but it was before money was even brought up.

The boxer perked. "Well, we have some paperwork for you to go over, then." He tapped on his tablet, before swiping a few times, and then passing the device over to Ocean. "The results of your bloodwork came in, so we can begin the first injection of the treatment as soon as the nurse returns. That should give you the time to fill out those forms."

The airedale terrier took the tablet and began filling out the information. He seemed to have forgotten that the sweatpants were hanging around his thighs, leaving himself exposed between the hem of his dress shirt and just above the knees. This was enough to cover his sheath, but his full testes remained hanging over the edge of the examination table. Ocean focused on filling out the information, occasionally checking his phone or his wallet for things he had not memorized.

As he finished with the document, the door into the room opened again. The golden retriever was holding a case much like the one that had contained the blood drawing kit in one hand, but in the other was a milking machine the size of a bazooka, cradled up under his arm for easier carrying.

Ocean stared at the device as it entered... would that really fit? He thought back to all the men in the footage the doctor had shown him... If he grew fast enough it just might...

The boxer took the case from the nurse, setting it on the counter and opening it. "Please lift your shirt? We've found the navel is the most effective injection site." The doctor began to put on a pair of nitrile gloves. Once his hands were protected by the sterile material, he lifted the syringe from within the case and tapped the side to ensure any air bubbles dislodged from the glass.

The nurse set down the enormous milking machine and prepped an alcohol swab at the same time.

With a tug on the fabric above either love handle, Ocean exposed his stomach, biting his lip slightly enough for the anxious gesture to be hidden by his long facial fur.

In practiced motions, the golden retriever cleaned along the edge and down into the terrier's navel, moving in outward motions to make sure the soft fur didn't fall back in the way just yet.

Following this, the doctor gently squeezed the syringe, ejecting the excess gasses and a miniscule squirt of the formula within. He stopped the plunger at a graduated mark in the glass, and carefully brought it down towards the injection site.

Ocean closed his eyes, trying to not think about the needle. The touch of the doctor's gloved hand made him wince, clenching his eyes shut tighter. To his surprise, he hardly felt a pinching sensation on the inner rim of his navel. He opened his eyes to find the boxer walking back to the counter and the nurse approaching with a cotton ball.

"There. That will start the conversion process within the next few minutes, once that has some time to diffuse through your system..." The doctor said, setting the syringe back into the case. He stuck a red 'used' sticker on the case and closed it up, before removing his gloves.

The golden retriever gently pressed the cotton ball into Ocean's navel. "Natural elasticity should hold that in place until it's no longer needed. Now, lean back a little." The nurse reached to pick up the enormous milking machine once more

With a nervous swallow, Ocean obeyed, letting his shirt fall as he leaned back onto his hands, grasping the side of the examination table across from where his testes hung.

Using the open end of the tube to push the button-up shirt up a bit, the nurse pressed the silicone ring around the terrier's sheath. "Now, hold onto this, you don't need to be leaning back anymore."

The patient looked nonplussed for a moment, before a surging heat began to suffuse out form his navel and down towards his groin. His eyes widened and he sat up, grasping onto the tube. His fingers couldn't even meet around the channel he was supposed to fill. Even as large as he was right now, this seemed quite a bit too large.

"Keep it in place. You should fit it within a few minutes." The doctor said evenly, tapping on his tablet. The boxer's gaze was below the tube.

Ocean realized what he was looking at as he felt his balls pressing against the inside of either of his calves, just beneath the knee... they normally didn't go that far down, and they usually would only touch one leg at a time with how far apart he'd spread his legs. Soon the terrier felt them pushing his sweatpants down with their weight, feeling the elastic slide down his fuzzy shins.

Just as he was starting to wrap his mind around how fast his testes were growing, the grey and black dog felt his stomach straining at the buttons of his shirt. The expansion continued, but he could feel that his belly was being compressed by the tension, more and more with each passing moment. Within the tube, he felt his shaft drop, pressing out of his sheath and into the ribbed inner lining of the milking machine.

The nurse pressed a button on the control panel of the device and the silicone interior of the tube began to undulate in a repeating pattern.

Ocean panted heavily as the warmth continued to spread out through his body, feeling it in his arms and chest, along his back and hips... then a familiar odd sensation, almost an ache coming from his inner body. The terrier realized... he could even feel his bones. A thought that should have been disturbing... in his current state it just reminded him... he was going to grow taller, too.

Even as it grew to be a proper erection, the terrier's shaft didn't fully fill the tube up, the underside resting on the bottom of the rippling tunnel. It bounced up to hit the top of the silicone passage when a flex involuntarily crossed his pelvic floor, something that was happing more and more often.

That was when the buttons on the shirt gave in. The first popping off led to a sharp redirection of force to the buttons on either side of it, sending them off as well. In a short sequence, his shirt from the bottom of his chest to his waist had surged open, revealing an almost spherical dome of belly, heavily squishing against the top of the milking machine's tube.

The pump at the end of the tube made a sputtering sound, as thin pre began to be sucked up. Ocean gripped the machine and did his best to keep the seal, but he could also feel the clear fluid beginning to seep through his fur and down onto his still swelling testes.

The terrier's eyes widened as the dull not-quite an ache flared into an intense heat, shooting from the base of his tail down its length and up to the base of his skull. The wave rapidly rebounded and burnt its way through his skeleton to the very tips of his fingers and toes. The heat dissipated for a moment, as the table creaked beneath him.

Ocean's shoes felt tighter than they had a moment before, and the tube felt smaller in his hands. The sleeves of his already damaged button up began to strain against his arms, as the next surge in size began to burst the seams. The buttons across his chest were as strained as they had been over his belly at the start.

The next time his shaft struck the top of the milking tube, it didn't leave when it settled. The terrier gasped and moaned as he felt the undulating silicone properly embracing his member as intended. The intense pleasure distracted him from the bursting sound of his shoes succumbing to the growth of his feet within them. His sweatpants creaked between his ankles as the size of his testes forced his thighs to spread further.

Ocean squeezed the tube, shifting his grip to be one hand over the other so his fingers wouldn't interfere with one another. The motion of his arm set that sleeve bursting fully. The buttons across his chest popped and allowed the garment to open up, revealing his torso from sternum to the under hang of his large, heavy belly.

Looking around blearily, the terrier noticed that while he'd been just beneath the doctor and nurse's eye level while sitting before... it was like they were sitting... but they were standing. Between his calves he could feel his scrotum tensing, the motion of his balls making the examination table creak again as his body tensed.

The last vestiges of his clothes clinging onto his body tore apart as Ocean clenched his eyes shut, feeling himself nearing his peak. He bit his lip firmly, resisting the urge to howl as his hips twitched in place. The grey and black dog shuddered, the tube seeming to get even smaller in his hands as it fit far more snugly around his shaft. Then his mind went blank from the overwhelming sensation of release.

When Ocean's mind cleared enough to have thoughts again, he could still feel his shaft flexing and gushing. He was trembling, seated upright. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and let out a soft gasp. He felt as though he was towering. The airedale terrier slumped slightly to one side, disoriented, before his eyes fell on the large tank that he hadn't seen get brought in. The viscous white substance coming off a tube from the milking machine to the top of the tank was filling it halfway... must have been gallons already and he wasn't stopping.

He braced himself on one side of the examination table with an elbow, figuring the angle of the machine wouldn't matter too much... his shaft had a good seal inside. He wasn't paying attention to what the doctor and nurse were talking about. Instead, his eyes fixated on his leather jacket, hanging off the hook on the inside of the door. It looked so tiny now. How had it ever fit him...?

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Ocean groaned weakly. The first thing he noticed was that his morning erection was eager for attention. A shift of his hips brought him more into focus... the sheets were so much softer than those in his apartment... well, his old apartment. Warm with his leakage... He didn't have the presence of mind the night before to apply a condom... then again, he didn't know if the ones he'd been using lately would fit anymore. The terrier braced his large testes between his thighs and calves and rolled onto his back, blushing a bit at the loud fluid sloshing sound that resulted. He felt the heated trickle of his leak in his curly belly fur shortly enough. That was a good way to motivate him to scoot to the side of the bed.

He hazily remembered that the doctor told him that his morning wood would be stronger, having a significantly larger shaft than before. He grunted, carefully working his hips over while dragging his heavy balls along, each motion causing another sloshing sound. He couldn't be too annoyed however... the fluid, sloshing warmth between his legs felt... right.

Once the orbs were to the edge of the mattress, he pushed a bit more firmly forward. Still squeezing with his legs, he was able to get his scrotum to hang without swinging his balls around too violently. It still resulted in quite a bit of sloshing. Ocean looked over the curve of his round belly at his erection. It was still leaking, drizzling along the fat channel on its underside and down to his sheath to matte up the fur.

Despite how much bigger he had grown all over, he had a hard time. The new belly in the way, for one thing. It was certainly plush and soft, so he could get his hands down to his base with enough finagling, but trying to stroke up and down caused the round dome to squish and flop distractingly. Ocean huffed. He could feel his balls getting heavier, sagging down towards the smooth flooring as they filled.

"Dun jerk it..." A deep voice muttered from across the room. At the far side of the bedchamber was another bed the same size as Ocean's, which had his roommate still laying there. "Morning Milking's soon."

The massive beagle yawned, hugging a pillow to his massive chest, and began to doze right off again.

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Once Ocean had calmed down and his roommate finally got out of bed, the heavy beagle led the terrier to the mess hall. Huron, as he was called, cut a path through the facility from the room to the food. Despite the size of his testes, he seemed entirely unencumbered by their weight. They did, however, dictate that in most halls they went single file.

Huron tapped a table in the mess hall. "Take a seat; I'll get you a platter." Without waiting for a response, the beagle casually strolled on towards the buffet lines.

Ocean looked down at the table. It was like a long dining table that one would expect to see in a cafeteria, but scaled up greatly and given plenty of space between either side. About a foot in from where one's feet would naturally rest, the floor devoted down into a smooth curve all the way to the other side. The terrier carefully eased himself onto the bench, sucking in his newly rounded belly. He scooted his hips back as far as his heavy scrotum would allow, resting his elbows on the tabletop. Even with the extra space allotted by shifting his seat on the bench, he kept his belly sucked in, not wanting to just have it ram into the hard edge of the tabletop.

The beagle returned shortly enough, balancing a broad platter on either powerful arm. Huron chuckled. "Don't gotta suck it in like that. What you gotta do is let your tank fill!" He laid down one of the broad trays down in front of Ocean, before setting the other across from him.

The terrier perked at the sheer amount of food laid out in front of him: stacks of pancakes, a mixing bowl filled with steaming porridge, at least three different omelets, toasts of multiple types of bread, lox on bagels, sausage hash... He decided to redirect his attention to the beagle instead of just taking inventory of his breakfast. "Didn't wanna just jam my gut into the table..." Ocean chuckled... his roommate's casual tone was starting to rub off on him. Hard not to with how soft and amicable he'd been so far.

Huron carefully raised one muscular leg and pivoted on his other foot, before he was able to get that leg behind his immense scrotum. He repeated the process with the other leg, then, with ease borne from practice, eased himself sideways onto the bench. As he got close enough, the smooth divot accepted his testes with a heavy sloshing sound, giving them clearance to rest beneath the tabletop. "After today we'll prolly hav'ta sit side by side." He winked, twirling a fork between his meaty paw pads. "When 'producers' eat portions like this, our bellies are gonna swell out for a bit, just to fit it all. If you keep it sucked in, you won't be able to fit all of this!" He gestured over the two trays.

"You mean... I'm eating all of this?" Ocean stared down at the platter. "I thought you just... got a lot of options for me to try."

The beagle chuckled. "You don't hav'ta eat all of it, but the porridge is enriched, t'prep your body for the next treatment. Techs in the kitchen had it waiting for ya." He skewered a whole sausage and dragged it through a puddle of syrup on his plate, before chomping down on it. "So get that done, then have whatever else ya want. And stop suckin' in your gut." He playfully admonished, gesturing with the half-a-sausage on his fork accusingly.

The airedale terrier exhaled, relaxing his core to let his belly hang as it wanted to. Though it pressed and deformed against the side of the table, it wasn't uncomfortable... Then again, any prod and jostle he'd given his belly since its growth didn't feel unpleasant, so it made sense. Ocean grasped the serving-spoon sticking out of the porridge, amazed at how it felt about the right size for a soup spoon in his hand. He lifted it up and blew on the mush in the spoon, before putting it in his mouth.

When Huron had said it was enriched, Ocean had expected it to be bland, or worse: bitter. Thankfully, it was hearty and savory. If anything, it needed a little bit of salt, in the terrier's opinion. He glanced around the table before spotting a salt shaker the size of a sugar dispenser in an old diner. He leaned and grasped it in his hand. Once upright again, the grey and black canine shook it over the porridge and stirred with the spoon at the same time.

The beagle chuckled while cutting into a tall stack of pancakes. "I thought that stuff was salty when I had it, but I guess the formulation's different for everyone."

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The large shower rooms of the facility were designed for 'producers' to clean off. Ocean found that the hand-held showerhead on a long pipe helpful with how large his loins had gotten. While sitting at breakfast, his balls had begun resting on the floor, and kept doing so while he was standing afterward. The other major difference from when he woke up was that his ball-belly was sagging down over his sheath, heavy from the sheer mass of food he put away.

Huron, on the other hand, was too big to wash on his own. A Dalmatian technician had a second hose, carefully running water over the beagle's enormous scrotum. In contrast to the two large dogs, the tech was wearing a snug body-suit, waterproof and form-fitting.

It really drove home to Ocean just how big he'd gotten that the fairly averaged sized pup hardly came up to his sagging navel. Until the tech arrived, he had been experiencing everything as it was scaled for the 'producers', so it was easy to forget that.

The beagle himself was washing over his powerful chest and belly with a showerhead of his own. The size of his pectorals meant that he had to pass the grip from one hand to the other to reach the opposite side of his body with the stream of water. The way that the dal changed the spray setting on his own head and began to hose down Huron's back told Ocean enough about how much his roommate could be expected to reach his back. "Need some help getting your back?"

Ocean perked at the question and chuckled, amused by how much it lined up with his train of thought. "Sure, if you're offering." The terrier turned around, careful to not tread on his own scrotum. As it was, his balls smoothly spun with the rotation of his body, the water-drenched tile slick enough to not cause torsion.

Huron turned his showerhead around to start spraying down his roommate's back. "Normally I get a friend to help," He said casually as the black and grey curls of fur smoothed out from the flow of water. "But since you're new to this I figured I'd ask for a tech."

"Uh... thank you." The terrier blushed a bit, not sure what to say... of course, he probably wouldn't know how to deal with spraying down the supersized beach balls that resided on the floor behind the beagle's thighs. Ocean thought that he should learn soon, though. "Normally a 'you wash my back, I wash yours' thing, huh?"

The beagle chuckled. "Pretty much. Now, I've gotta workout session scheduled while you're goin' in for your second treatment. So I prolly won't see ya until later today. That okay?"

Ocean looked over his shoulder. "Uh, yeah... the techs will help me if I get lost or something."

"Sure will." Huron smiled and finished hosing his roommate down. He put the showerhead in its holder and held his hand out for the second. When the dal handed it over he set it back as well. "See ya later, Ocean, hope your next session goes as well as the first." The beagle confidently strode away towards the enormous drying station, alongside the slender tech.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The golden retriever nurse from the day before carefully took the plus sized inflatable sleeve off of Ocean's arm, the last of the vitals tests. "Not much muscle mass development yet... exercise will sort that out." The nurse then got out the sanitary swabs and started to gently prep the terrier's navel. "You're scheduled for one of the group work-outs on the beach after your morning collections."

"Working out after that?" Ocean asked incredulously. He remembered how wrecked he was after last night. As it was, he was seated on a bench that was attached to the wall behind him, through slots. His testes rested in a large divot directly beneath the seat on the floor.

Despite the depression and uneven footing, the nurse showed no sign of unbalance. He must have lots of practice in one of the collection rooms. "Oh not immediately after. You'll have recovery time, and you can always postpone or cancel. None of the activities are mandatory."

"That's good." The terrier pressed his palms to the bench on either side of his hips, trying to ignore that a needle was coming his way.

"Just relax." The golden retriever said softly, gently placing a hand next to the navel on the pillowy round belly, stabilizing it. This time around, between two fingers he was holding the cotton ball, ready to put it on immediately.

Ocean closed his eyes again, exhaling slowly. Another familiar pinching sensation, this time on the opposite side of his navel, let him know that the shot had been administered. When the cotton ball was pressed into place, he knew it was safe to open his eyes again.

He was just in time to witness panels set into the high ceiling part and a large milking machine swing down on a robot arm. "Oh." It had to be twice as long and twice as thick as the one he'd used during his first bout of growth... was he really going to grow by that much?

Much in the same way a dental technician lined up an x-ray emitter by the handle on the side, the nurse grasped the machine and guided it on its hydraulics down to line up around the base of the terrier's sheath. "You won't have to hold it in place; the arm will do that for you." The golden retriever explained.

Another mechanical whirr arose directly behind Ocean, coinciding with a vibration felt through his seat. Shortly afterward, the whole bench began to rise on its tracks on the wall. The robot arm kept the milking machine in place.

The grey and black terrier did his best to stay still, his hands on the bench clenching a bit tighter as he was raised high enough that his testes lifted off the floor with a sloshing sound from the momentary jostle. Ocean curled his toes and lightly swung his legs out of nervous energy, before his attention was redirected by a by now familiar heated sensation in his belly. This time, instead of heading straight to his loins, the burning traveled up into his chest. The fairly flat plane between his sternum and belly abruptly swelled, as though they were being prepped for vacuum forming.

Panting, he released the bench to feel his chest with his hand. He instinctually reached for his opposite side and found that the increasing muscle mass was starting to make it harder to do so, since it flexed the near side into a stronger mound. "Oh." The sight and feeling of his newly larger, stronger chest set his shaft to drop into the tube from his sheath.

It was only then that the intense heat dropped back down to his loins. The repression of holding off on releasing when he got out of bed was brought back into clear focus for the terrier. He shuddered, reaching both hands towards the milking machine's tube. Doing this, of course, just made his pectorals flex out over the dome of his soft belly. Ocean blushed as he realized that they would be in his peripheral vision even if he was looking straight ahead, now.

At the same time that his arousal reached its turgidity, the black and grey dog's balls began to swell once again. Instead of sloshing sounds, they were now audibly churning as they sagged lower, stretching his scrotum further with every moment. He could feel the tube filling with pre with every moment, starting to leak into his scrotal fur again. At the same time, he felt the silicone ribbing inside slowly sliding one ridge at a time over his glans where it rested... seeming to get smaller...

Ocean panted, unable to see but definitely able to feel what his loins were doing. At the same time slowly felt his stomach feel softer and less heavy as the tension increased below. He momentarily wondered when lunch was. That train of thought derailed as he felt the smooth divot on the cool floor accept the weight of his testes once more. The seat hadn't moved a single inch back downward.

The terrier groaned, shifting his legs as the sheer size of his testes kept them from hanging straight down. The leak of pre down onto his now supported sac abruptly stopped as his growing shaft properly filled the tube it was held inside.

That was when the milking machine activated.

Howling out, Ocean felt his pelvic floor quiver and start to flex, his body pumping in a powerful surge of converted semen up into the awaiting tube. Again, the terrier's mind blanked out from the sheer intensity, his whole body tensed up as he unloaded.

He didn't know how long that release lasted, as there wasn't a clock inside the collection chamber. But he knew that he could hardly think, panting heavily. Ocean thoughtlessly rested his chin atop his new, larger pecs as he worked to catch his breath.

"Yep, overstimulated." A voice could be heard in the room, but the terrier wasn't looking for the source. The bench began to descend, finally.

As Ocean lowered, his legs were forced to spread and extend up on top of his massive testes, until they threatened to support him more than the bench did.

A dalmatian in a lab coat walked into view to one side of the immense scrotum. "Think you can stand?"

The terrier wondered why he seemed familiar, but pushed that thought away, looking down at his testes, then at his legs. He blearily poked his thigh. "I guess?"

The tech nodded. "We'll get you cleaned up first real quick... good thing these rooms have drains." He removed his lab coat, revealing the body suit he was wearing underneath.

Ocean blinked a bit as he realized, this was the tech that had been helping Huron in the communal shower.

The dal gestured for the milking machine's arm to pull away. With a series of wet squelches, the overstimulated shaft came out of the long tube, clearly fitting quite snugly within. While this was happening, the tech grasped a showerhead that had descended from the same open panel in the ceiling. "Alright, just going to rinse your penis and scrotum really quick, then we can apply the sunblock."

"Sunblock...?" The terrier tilted his head, utterly befuddled. He jumped a bit as the water from the showerhead struck his still tender shaft.

"You're going out onto the beach after this, right?" The tech chuckled idly as he directed the flow of water, walking around to beneath the milking machine to start pointing at the cleft between Ocean's testes. "This is practically a whole other me of bare skin to protect."

A large pipe with a nozzle on it lowered from the ceiling as the dal turned off the water, letting the showerhead swing as he switched over. The tech pointed the nozzle at Ocean and a high speed blast of warm air started to blast through it, even as the showerhead was lifted away out of reach.

If he weren't so out of it, Ocean might have marveled at the efficiency of this process, but in his current state of mind, he was just thinking about how he could feel every single eddy and swirl of air along the bare skin of his shaft. He just held still, working on catching his breath for the time being.

The terrier perked up as the rushing warm air stopped, snapping to attention as he saw the dal now holding what looked like an industrial paint sprayer.

"Pardon me." The tech leaned directly against Ocean's scrotum and used one hand to lift the semi-flaccid member in order to angle the nozzle at the underside of the shaft. His wiry arms were stronger than they looked, clearly. Carefully, he applied sunblock to the bare flesh, working his way up towards the glans. In this formulation, it was dry to the touch quickly, before the coated skin returned to rest atop the divot between the two massive testes.

With a shift of positioning, the dalmatian climbed up onto one of Ocean's balls, just to reach the base of his sheath from the top side. He began to apply with the nozzle from this new angle, continuing as long as he could from his perch atop the recently fluffed ball.

To the terrier's surprise, the weight wasn't a bother. Normally his testes were sensitive and would easily ache from the merest mistreatment. But a whole person was resting on his ball and it was less of a distraction than the chilly sensation of the sunblock drying up rapidly atop his member.

The tech slipped down to stand normally again. "Alright," He let go of the sprayer and gestured at the milking machine. The robotic arm brought the head of the tube up to the top of Ocean's stomach, handles on full display. "Hold onto the machine, we'll use the arm to get your feet on the ground."

Obediently, Ocean grasped the handles on the milking machine's tube, jutting his pecs forward again in the process. As the tech said, the robotic arm actuated and pulled the terrier over the curve of his enormous testes. He kept holding on for a moment, panting softly. His flaccid shaft was finally starting to recede into his sheath, fighting gravity to do so. "Thank you." He finally said to the dal as he stood up straight, letting go of the machine.

The tech put his lab coat back on as the machine finally lifted back up into the ceiling. "You are most welcome. Hope you enjoy your time at the beach." He nodded, and nonchalantly walked out of the room.

As the door opened, a husky in a similar coat approached, smiling. "Good morning. I'm here to help you to the beach."

Ocean wanted to defiantly say he could find his way, but in his current haze he wasn't even sure how to get back to his room from the chamber. The hallways were all very similar, as well. "Thank you... is it really still morning?"

"Ten thirty." The husky nodded firmly. "Now, if you'll follow me."

Ocean looked back at his testes, and then down at his legs... all the other 'producers' could do it, then so could he. The terrier attempted to walk, and immediately felt the tension in his pelvis. Unlike he worried, there was no discomfort, just the feeling of a slight stretch. He took another step forward and let out a soft grunt as his testes were pulled to the near side of the divot with a slosh.

The tech waited patiently at the door, smiling cheerfully.

By the time that the Airedale terrier reached the wide doorway, he had successfully pulled his testes from the divot and found it far easier to walk. It was still a good deal of effort though, as the husky turned to lead him on. Ocean did his best to keep the motion of his hips constant, to keep from starting and stopping the mass sliding behind him... he truly understood why the floors were so well polished.

The husky tech guided the newly grown male out into a polished cement courtyard that opened out onto the sand directly. He turned back to Ocean, smiling. "You still have a bit before your scheduled exercises."

"Thank you." The grey and black dog squinted a bit... tomorrow he'd have to bring sunglasses. Ocean continued towards the sand, feeling the fine silica particles beneath his foot paws long before his fuzzy scrotum detected any difference to the smoothness, apart from the rather blatant higher temperature of being outdoors in the sun.

Blearily, he peered down at the floor... from experience that surface should have been almost painfully hot... but it was perfectly fine. He shrugged, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Up ahead, he could see various other 'producers' doing different activities. In the distance he saw a beach volleyball match. Ocean wondered if the rules were different considering every player stood taller than the net and had a pair of anchors attached to their hips.

Closer by, he spotted a corgi powering along, seeming to have no trouble walking. That fact was underlined by this being the first 'producer' he saw who stood below six feet tall. Furthermore, he was no less endowed than any of the other men on the beach. Seeing the shorter dog pivot, Ocean's eyes boggled, despite the bright light. He was as wide in his chest and belly as he was tall, having no trouble at all despite how much his muscles must crowd up on his frame.

When the terrier crossed properly onto the shifting sand, the going got harder both by dint of his footing becoming more unstable but because his testes were trying to plow and take a good deal of sand with them. He looked around at the various areas he could settle in to relax before that exercise thing. He still felt a bit trembly in the aftershocks of his last orgasm, and whenever he remembered that he wondered how he was able to keep walking so easily.

Ocean found a fairly abandoned spot, close to some tide pools off away from the rest of the beach. Remembering Huron's maneuver in the mess hall, he lifted one leg, unsteadily pivoted, and then brought it back down, astride his own scrotum. The terrier repeated the motion until the tether that kept him attached to the enormous genitals was in front of him once more. He carefully crossed his legs and sat down.

Immediately he realized that sitting like this blocked most of his view of the sea. The grey and black canine blushed a bit, before lying back onto the sand. He sighed, eyes closed, and let the white noise of the surf wash over him. He sighed, relaxing and letting himself drift.

Ocean's ear perked as he heard footsteps approaching in the shifting sand. He pressed himself up onto his elbows and looked in the direction he heard. The husky was back, smiling.

"Came to make sure you had time to get over to the exercise area, if you still wanted to do it." The tech wagged amicably.

The terrier nodded, sitting up fully. However little rest that was, the shakes from his growth and release had faded. "Alright. Which way is it?" He lifted one leg and tried to put it over his scrotum, then paused, thinking... if he did that he'd twist everything around... how did he do this again?

"Uh... the most common way I see producers stand from that position is... uh. Vaulting." The husky offered.

"Vaulting?" Ocean tilted his head.

The tech mimed pressing his hands down on a surface and jumping over it, tablet grasped firmly in one paw.

The terrier couldn't help but wince at the idea of putting his full weight on his hands on his balls like that.

"Oh, no no, the conversion has made your body far more resilient. I'm sure you've noticed that the hot sand isn't bothering you." The husky explained, seeing the expression. "You could support your entire body weight if you wanted."

Ocean blinked, and pondered... that tech was able to climb all over his ball earlier, and he hardly felt any discomfort. Standing, the grey and black dog carefully braced his hands on either teste, and then jumped, grunting. His form was poor, so he ended up sitting atop his scrotum for a moment, hands pinned against his spread thighs. But his momentum carried him forward, rolling his balls in the sand.

The terrier got his feet under him again, exhaling. "Well... that was different."

The tech gestured. "This way to the exercise class."

Finding himself more stable than before, Ocean followed the husky, his sloshing loins digging a furrow in his path, like all the other 'producers' were. Ahead, he saw a big square space that several other canines were stretching in, or at least, as best as they could.

Facing them in the teacher's position, holding a boom box up on his shoulder, was the broad corgi.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ocean was trying to find his balance again. Working out, followed by another hearty meal at noon had meant that his time relaxing over the course of the afternoon meant that by the time Huron found him to invite him to dinner...

The terrier's chest was so bulky and powerful that it blocked the sight of his belly. The great ball he'd had at breakfast had contracted to a smaller dome as his body re-appropriated that mass for muscle fibers. In addition to the additional pectoral size, his arms and legs had bulked up greater. Part of his balance problem was that it was so much easier to stand and walk, even with the great weight behind him and the added weight to his frame from all the muscles. The weight was distributed differently than he was used to being the other part of his problem. Adding to his new top-heaviness, his back was built up with powerful muscles as well, flexing when he spread his arms or jutted his chest.

Huron chuckled, carrying both of their platters loaded up with dinner since his roommate was still unstable. "You'll get used ta it, don't you worry." The beagle set the trays down side by side, walking around to one side of the bench and gesturing to the near side for the terrier.

Ocean blushed and nodded. He held his arms out for extra balance as he carefully eased one leg, then the other over his massive testes, having to hope that he was doing it right because he couldn't see with all his new musculature blocking his view! When he got his feet both on the ground, he carefully copied Huron, easing his balls to slip into the divot beneath the table. Shifting his hips on the bench, he found himself shoulder-to-shoulder with his roommate.

The beagle grinned. "Toldja you'd end up havin' ta sit beside me." He started to happily scarf down what looked like a full lasagna, one slice at a time.

The airedale terrier nodded, looking to his own platter. At the buffet line he'd gone wild, having even more food laid out before him than his roommate did. He hadn't said anything, but he felt famished, despite how many calories he must have eaten today. Then again... all of that went to his muscles and producing the heavy slosh between his legs.

Ocean dug in with abandon, pausing only to take sips of a large jug of water. As he made his way across the plate, the diminished dome of his belly began to swell once more. Soon it pressed against the edge of the tabletop, buckling over to keep expanding on top and beneath at the same time. A careful eye would notice that his testes had started audibly churning as well, and that the expansion of his stomach wasn't nearly as much as it should have been for just how much he was devouring.

Huron finished his platter first, chuckling. "Yeah, make up for lost calories. Lemme just bus these..." The beagle reached over and carefully took every empty plate and used utensil, stacking them onto his own tray.

The terrier, for his part, started putting plates he was done with over on the tray as well, before his roommate had even finished standing up.

Chuckling, the beagle crossed his arms across his chest, just barely reaching with the way that his biceps and pectorals fought for space. "Or, I can wait for you to finish, too." There were very few plates left, after all.

Ocean set the last plate down on the other platter and belched. He blushed, covering his muzzle. "Oof... guess I was just... really hungry." He picked up the filled platter and set it on his own, completely consolidating the used flatware. The terrier shifted his hips with a loud slosh and started to get up out of his seat as well. The divot resisted, but with his new muscles he was able to pull his testes free with little effort.

Huron swept in to take the tray. "Wait right here, I'll be right back." He carried the pile of plates off to a shutter window on the wall separating the main mess hall from the kitchen.

The terrier took the time to get himself carefully back in front of his balls, one hand grasping his gut to keep balance. It was back out to the size it was this morning, soft and plump... had he already processed all of that food? Ocean squished his belly between his hands carefully, blushing.

"C'mon big guy. Our nightly milkin's scheduled together." The beagle gave his roommate an affectionate pat just above the shoulder blade, continuing on ahead.

Ocean followed, having his belly back seeming to have helped his balance, or perhaps he was just more used to it. He wasn't sure. "At the same time or... together?"

Huron laughed, peeking over one of his thick trapeziuses back at his roommate. "Same time, but I'm in the next room. You can chat with me just fine."

The terrier blushed again. "After my first two sessions, I dunno how much of a conversationalist I'll be."

Turning to face forward again, the beagle chuckled. "Then I'll cheer ya on as ya howl."

The two collection rooms appeared to be mirrored in layout as well, with the wall with the benches shared between them. Ocean wondered if the benches balanced each other out or if there were two lifting mechanisms. Approaching the large seat, the terrier changed trajectory, pivoted enough that his scrotum slid with him, and then carefully backed up to get his enormous balls into the smooth divot made to hold them.

A tech came in, one that Ocean didn't recognize. The slender rottweiler pressed a button on his tablet. The ceiling opened up and the machine came down.

The terrier hmmed thoughtfully. He bent his knees, and then jumped as best as he could backwards, spreading his legs. His meaty back slammed into the wall as his new glutes settled onto the bench, the whole thing sending his balls sloshing.

"Woah! Nearly knocked me off my perch, big guy!" Huron's voice came through the wall behind him.

Ocean blushed. "Oh... sorry. I guess I just wanted to get seated without having to hold onto a robot arm."

The beagle laughed aloud at that. "Nothin' ta prove, just relax, okay?"

Shakily, the rottweiler reached up and grabbed the handle on the machine, guiding it down into the gap between Ocean's broad belly and ponderous orbs. "Alright, tell me when this fits right over your sheath..."

Momentarily amused that there wasn't a more technical term for that part of his anatomy, similar to how the scientific name for ribs in most textbooks is... ribs, the terrier nodded, reaching down to help guide. He grunted lightly, feeling that his sheath now snugly filled out the girth of the tube, and he wasn't even aroused. "Uh, there."

The tech nodded, stepping clear and pressing another button on his tablet. The motor whirred in the wall, lifting the significantly heavier male up until his scrotum was just barely settled into the divot beneath him. The robot arm kept the machine lined up in place.

"S'just like morning milking." Huron reminded Ocean through the wall. "Just relax an' let the machine work."

Ocean leaned his head back against the wall as the silicone inside of the tube began to move. He closed his eyes. The previous two times his arousal had been fueled by a chemical injection... this time he had to just stir up his own libido. With the rolling stimulation against his plump sheath, however, this came fairly quickly.

The terrier felt himself drop from his sheath into the massaging silicone and groaned lightly. "Thanks, Huron..."

The door opened again, drawing Ocean's attention. When he looked, the golden retriever who had been working on him was there, smiling with his own tablet held in front of his scrubs. "We got the analysis of the morning collection back and I thought you'd want to know."

"Know what?" The terrier had to crane his head to one side to even see the nurse around his pecs, the meaty shelves enormous even when relaxed. All the while the machine worked his member up to full arousal.

"Well, it's just the first collection so it's not certain yet, but you might be our best producer if you keep it up." The goldie wagged. "In protein volume, antibody count per milliliter, and antibody quality, in the 98th percentile.

Ocean quivered and grasped the edge of the seat on either side of his hips, biting back a howl. His whole scrotum jumped, and then the milking machine shuddered, the pipes carrying the load away on the back visibly shuddering from impact.

The nurse and the technician stared as their newest 'producer' certainly earned his title.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ocean was lethargic and overwhelmed after his evening milking. The terrier had debated going straight to bed, but Huron had offered watching some television.

Their shared quarters had an enormous sectional couch designed for men of their sizes. The large screen TV opposite it was playing some mystery show with the sound lowered.

The terrier squeezed around the beagle's shoulders, his head resting next to his roommate's own. Ocean was half laying, half reclining, his massive balls resting on the floor. His broad chest was pressed firmly up against Huron's own, their pecs a limiting factor on how close they could get together this way. Both soft round bellies were pressed together as well, deforming each comfortably into an oblong shape, flat where they met. Altogether, it let them cuddle at an angle where their enormous endowments didn't get in the way.

Huron rubbed his thumb along the top of Ocean's deltoid slowly, squeezing in return. "You're a good pup, ya know that, Ocean?"

"How do you figure that?" The terrier asked, having entirely forgotten about the television.

"Took me over a week t'get used to all the stuff you're just... doin'..." The beagle chuckled. "Gotta good handle on things. Good boy, Ocean."

Ocean blushed at the way his roommate said that. He was about to respond, when a yawn hijacked his mouth. "Oogh, sorry." He muttered once he regained control.

"Yeah... time for bed." Huron chuckled, relaxing his grip on his roommate. "Fallin' asleep like this is a surefire way to get neck cramps."

The terrier perked, and then giggled. The thought of all the things he'd gone through today being totally fine for his body... but sleeping poorly would be a problem... "Okay, okay..." He released Huron slowly, shifting his weight to get his legs back straddled over his testes.

The beagle carefully pressed off the couch with his hands at his sides, using the momentum to get onto his feet. He stretched out, before plapping his hands on his belly, starting to walk over to his big bed. "Goodnight, Ocean. You're a good boy, an' don't let anyone tell ya diff'rent."

Ocean mimicked the move and perked up, blushing... he wasn't sure why but... he liked being a good boy. Smiling dreamily, the terrier headed back over to his bed. He looked down over it... clearly the sheets had been replaced by someone while they were out; the mess he'd made was gone.

He leaned down carefully and grasped for the edge of the sheets. The shelf of his massive pecs kept him from seeing that part of the bed, so it took him some blind groping to get a good grip. Once he held onto the fabric, it took a simple toss to flip the comforter and top sheet open, revealing the fitted sheet easily. Ocean sighed and crawled into the open sheets, hearing the supports groaning at his new weight. He shimmied up along the mattress until his testes joined him in bed, quivering a bit as they sloshed up against his feet.

The terrier settled onto his front, feeling his round belly compress pleasantly under his weight. He pressed forward with one big arm, up under the pillows, shifting his weight to rest partially lifted to reduce the stress on his gut. To help support this, he hiked up one leg, bringing it out from beneath his massive scrotum.

With a murmur, he reached back as far as he could with his free arm to try to get at the blankets to pull them over himself. Ocean grunted, and sighed in defeat as he had to roll onto his back to even reach. He rolled back into position, carrying the comforter with him. The extra wide fabric only just barely covered his testes once he got it in place.

Ocean let out a sigh, closing his eyes as he settled his head down onto the pillows propped up on top of his bicep. As he began to doze, he thought... maybe he just fit here at Seaglass better than he ever had out in the clothed world.