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The announcement couldn't be any clearer no matter how much Clawhauser read it. His eyes went wide as saucers when he discovered the Assistant Chief of Police was ready to retire after years of dedicated service, a decorated officer of the law that he could only dream of being. Life behind the reception desk wasn't anywhere near as glamourous as patrolling the city was, though he figured anyone could intuit that on their own.

But all that could change in an instant.

The selection process to fill the position was entirely internal, meaning his shot at the role was as good as anyone else's. Well, it was in his head, though his lack of field experience might hurt his chances some. But that didn't mean he hadn't acquired any expertise in his tenure as station receptionist - his organizational skills were second to none! Relatively speaking, of course; he certainly put McHorn to shame, though that wasn't a difficult endeavour.

His biggest hurdle, sadly, was his lack of physical prowess, which was unfortunately still a requirement for the job, but the gears inside his head turned as to how he could overcome that. Obviously there wasn't anything that could realistically be done in time for the interview, but he could start before then and demonstrate his willingness to change his lifestyle. Yeah, that'd be perfect! An errant giggle slipped past his lips at his plan.

Unbeknownst to the cheetah, Bogo happened to be walking by that very moment, a case file in his hands he was intently reading, though the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose explained so to anyone who saw him. Some shape in his peripheral vision caught his eye, a quick glance revealing it to be the rotund secretary. The officer being directly in his path was enough to make him stop, though what caused the spotted cat to act as a roadblock became apparent in seconds. "Hard to believe he's been here that long, huh?"

Clawhauser nearly jumped out of his fur. "Oh, Chief! Uh..." His focus on the announcement blinded him to anything else happening in the station. "Yeah, thirty years! That's longer than almost everyone working here now."

"Even me. I'm surprised he never wanted my position, but I'm not one to complain." Bogo wasn't oblivious as to why the portly feline was so interested in the flyer, but he didn't have the heart to spell out why the cheetah wouldn't ever be thought of in terms of a replacement. At least, not up front. "Assistant Chief can be a stressful job. I doubt very many officers would even want the role."

"Really?" That struck Clawhauser as odd. He'd have thought everyone would line up to get a promotion, if not for the prestige that came with the title, then for the increase in salary. That definitely crossed his mind more than once.

Bogo sighed. "Of course, and I wouldn't deem just anyone fit to replace him either. Some around here still have several years of hard work ahead of them before I'd consider them for the opportunity." His gaze never left the paper pinned to the notice board. "And others, decades," he said in as straightforward a manner as he could.

Clawhauser's brow furrowed at the buffalo's off-handed remark. Whether it was intentionally directed at him or not it still stung deep, though a pang of resignation prodded at his faltering desire for a greater lot in life. "Yeah, I could see that."

A stray flick of his eyes told Bogo the receptionist understood precisely who he was referring to, mentally chiding himself for not being gentler in his approach. He could tell the obese feline yearned for something more than what was available, but anyone with eyes knew right away that every opportunity for promotions away from the front desk would be all but a pipe dream. That was unless something was done to improve the cat's physical fitness - a tall order, but not impossible. "I will say I've been surprised by officers before. Plenty have decided they wanted to better themselves and did so." Bogo shifted his gaze to the cheetah. "You know, Andersen used to be pretty portly when he first started."

"Really?!" Clawhauser's eyes lit up, immediately swiveling his chubby head to the imposing officer beside him.

"Oh sure. I genuinely didn't think he'd last given his stature." A wry smirk twisted Bogo's mouth. "If you could've seen him before, you'd think he's a beanpole now."

Truthfully, trying to picture the polar bear as any bigger than now was a lot more difficult than Clawhauser imagined it would be. Was his boss being honest with him at the moment? He sure hoped so; if it was possible for one of his coworkers, then it could easily be possible for him as well. "Thanks," he said before meandering back to his desk.

A flurry of emotions raged through him as he processed his thoughts. Frustration at how far behind the others he was washed over him in a wave of shame, however, it was punctuated by an underlying current of hope. He might be stuck now, but that didn't mean he was forever.

It was fortunate timing then that he'd decided to hit up a new place to grab breakfast. The idea of eating healthier had occurred to him for quite some time, he just never really set it into motion until that morning. It was some new place that just opened, on the old site of a business he passed frequently that he couldn't quite remember the name of. He'd describe the shop as mystical if asked, though only now did he realize how strange that seemed for a place to grab a bite to eat.

But it was exactly what he was looking for. Their selection of baked goods didn't seem all that appetizing at first - seeing so many products labeled as 'low fat' made him anxious - but if he was going to make a change, it had to start from the beginning.

It took him a hot second to locate something that didn't preemptively leave a bad taste in his mouth - what they were calling a 'protein donut'. Nothing from the nutritional information indicated they reduced all the stuff that tasted good, so if this ended up being a hit with him then getting in Bogo's good books might not be as difficult as initially presumed. Truth be told, he didn't know if this was any better for him than his usual breakfast, but anything loaded with something people were told they needed had to be healthier, right?

Taking the first bite was the most nerve-wracking thing Clawhauser had done in a while, and to his surprise it ended up not being as bad as he thought it would. In fact, he'd even go so far as to say it was great! Man, he'd been sweating up a storm trying to imagine what this crime against baked goods would be like, and he thanked his lucky stars everything turned out alright in the end.

It gave him great satisfaction in knowing the choice to try something new was a good one, and he kicked himself for not doing so sooner. How he waited until only a few months ago to push himself into being healthier he'll never understand, especially when it made him feel so good. The protein was exactly the thing he needed to fuel the gains he'd made since stepping foot in the precinct's gym several weeks back.

More and more musculature began showing through the flab he'd accumulated over a lifetime of eating. A chest that had actual definition and biceps that peaked when flexed were some of his biggest accomplishments, and while his larger coworkers achieved more in the same time frame, it was still exceptional progress to him nonetheless.

He knew that's what it was going to be like in the beginning though, which is why he persisted until he notched a year of dedicated work. Any and all free time was spent honing his body. Every ounce of pity he ever felt about himself was put towards lifting weights, hauling loads heavier than his own mass as sinew piled on him at a rapid pace. It was far more work than he envisioned at the start of his journey, but the feeling of pride he received more than made up for it.

His body practically exploded with heft, feeling it weigh him down in spite of his fat having all but disappeared. The size of his clothing ensured it still fit despite the change in body type, but with a back like a wide range of hills and legs like a cyclist's, that might not be the case for much longer.

The iron pit never saw another person as doggedly determined as he was entering through its doors. Five years went by like nothing as he hoisted weights far greater than his contemporaries. Big cats working out wasn't that much of a spectacle given the number of lions and tigers employed by the police station, but a feline as lithe as a cheetah outlifting everyone but the man at the top? It was unheard of! And yet that was his reality, very close to surpassing the records that the Chief of Police set years prior.

Which he smashed with little effort, of course. Yes, he was now the sole owner of every achievement worth writing down, including several he ended up creating just because ten years of committed effort granted him a body capable of outperforming even the most earnest of heavyweight bodybuilders. He wasn't even trying to show off either - all he did was focus on himself the entire time and let his results speak for themselves, which they did.

To think he'd have never made it that far if he didn't stop by that odd-feeling shop all those years ago. Where had the time gone?

The fruits of Clawhauser's labour were apparent to anyone who happened upon him. Working out in the gym had done wonders for his physique, exploding out with dense, rippling beef in all directions, becoming an absolute mountain of a man that seemed imposing to anyone unfamiliar with him, though they'd quickly realize the veritable tons of bulk he accrued didn't snuff out his naturally friendly demeanour.

One final bite finished off his usual breakfast, the last of a whole case of his favourite protein donuts. Somehow every morsel was more jam-packed with the stuff than anything else he came across, which suited him just fine as the habits he picked up in his youth now served to blow him up with even more delicious bulk.

Only the biggest of uniforms could fit his monstrous frame now, but just barely. His arms - the jewels on the crown that was his body - burst the sleeves of his top clean off by the shoulders; no mere fabric could contain biceps larger than truck tires. It was a testament to his zealous routine that the diameter of one arm while flexed measured more than some people's height, a fact that tickled him greatly.

The rest of his shirt fared little better. Thousands of hours of chest exercises left him with pectorals that put boulders to shame and popped each button down the front the more mass he gained. So much swollen feline muscle piled onto his widening frame that he couldn't even see the damage he was doing to his clothing, and yet there wasn't anything he could do about it as there wasn't a size above he could order. Sure, there was an offer to make a custom fit for his gargantuan frame, but he was content with waiting until it was a necessity. That might be soon.

What were once pants were now shorts thanks to calves that bulged out into obscene teardrops, shearing through the material as soon as it touched fur. It amused him that his hulking quads somehow hadn't managed to do the same, yet he could see the seams of his bottoms tearing apart, held together by an army of threads ready to tear if he were to flex his legs to the fullest extent he could.

He wouldn't dream of doing that, of course, as those shorts of his were his only means of keeping decent in public as his package had somehow benefited tremendously from his incomparable growth. The basket of his uniform did the monumental task of containing his girthy cubmaker and bloated cum tanks, no easy feat given the inconceivable amount of potent testosterone coursing through his system!

It was then that he remembered he came to the front desk for a reason, but it seemed to have slipped his mind. That wasn't like him to forget what he wanted to do so easily, but he waved it off as something that everyone did from time to time. Still...

"Ah!" He exclaimed in his sultry basso voice. A paper left by the phone caught his eye, with the data printed on it showing it to be precisely what he was looking for. He wasn't one to step behind the counter like that, but the receptionist wasn't around for whatever reason. Odd, but the guy was probably busy with something important.

With a contented smile on his chiseled face he ventured back to his office, saying hello to the various subordinate officers along the way. Many of them looked up to him as inspiration, not only as a sterling example of a confident lawman out in the field, but also as a Herculean specimen of muscular perfection. The gym ended up seeing record numbers of registered members using the facilities, spurred on by the belief that they, too, could achieve greatness if effort was put in.

And they did! People of all species and walks of life hit impossible gains beyond their wildest dreams, leaving the smallest among their ranks weighing in at a 'measly' 350 pounds, which was still astounding for Officer Wilde. Having a frame that short meant the fox stacked up with even the largest of colleagues, and while movement grew impeded the more mass was gained, he could still see how much happier the vulpine had become since blimping up. Everyone seemed to be happier, in fact, which made his days stuck in the station that much better.

The cool air of his office welcomed him as he entered, the doorway narrower than he remembered it to be; he'd have to call in at some point and get it widened as his gain train wasn't slowing down any time soon. Helping him achieve unimaginable breadth was his personal weightlifting set, made to his exact specifications as the equipment in the precinct's iron pit simply wasn't cutting it anymore. Thousand-pound weights didn't leave him pumped as much as he wanted, and even hoisting the machines themselves for exercise impacted him less than desired. Plus, he enjoyed the exclusivity of his gear as no one else at work even came close to budging it.

The perks he enjoyed as Assistant Chief of Police were all he ever wanted.

It was a position he held for five years now, assuming the title after his predecessor retired and named him the ideal replacement. Though that wasn't to say he was simply handed the position. He'd paid his dues plenty, taking down many criminals in his time out on the streets, including several big names that landed him awards he didn't even know existed.

But his thoughts drifted back to the old Assistant Chief and how the role had been held for a solid twenty-five years. Could he manage that? He was a fifth of the way there already, and that time flew by like nothing. Maybe he'd hold it for longer, set another record in the process; he seemed to be good at that.

The sturdy office chair Clawhauser was gifted upon his promotion squealed in protest of the sheer tonnage of cheetah parked in its grasp, doing its best to support a statuesque man many times the size he was when first taking over the job. He never minded how it made a noise whichever way he moved as anything the station didn't have to pay for helped the budget tremendously, especially when it came to financing his incredible bulk.

It was then that his door flew open, the chest of another law enforcement goliath being the first thing to pass the room's threshold. "Clawhauser, a word, if that's alright with you."

In direct contrast to his unparalleled enormity, Clawhauser was still a cat deep down and nearly jumped out of his chair at the sudden intrusion. "Goodness, Chief, you startled me!" He chuckled, his deep voice rumbling in his chest.

"Apologies, I thought you heard me coming." Bogo grinned. He, like everyone else at the station, was a monster of a man, looming large over the rest of the burly police force in spite of how similar in height he was to some. It gave him an immediate air of authority as the officers in his employ respected the size he'd accrued over his tenure as Chief, which he hoped translated into recognizing the hard work he put into his job as well. Just about everyone in the building was far from reaching the lofty results of his concerted workouts, though he wasn't quite large enough to surpass the spotted cat directly beneath him in seniority. Something about the feline's genetics made his Assistant put on heft at a far faster rate than anyone he'd ever met.

"I must've been in my own little world," Clawhauser said, swiveling his chair to face the brawny buffalo. No longer could he just move his head to regard someone, his titanic traps preventing him from doing so years ago. "What do you need from me?"

Bogo slipped his own wide frame through the doorway. "Oh, I didn't need anything. I just thought I'd congratulate you on winning 'Zootopia's Strongest Person'. That contest has some fierce competition!"

Hearing the words of his boss twisted Clawhauser's face into confusion, though with the corners of his mouth rising as he contemplated what the win actually meant. "I don't understand, that title's been reserved for professional bodybuilders since it was first handed out. I shouldn't even have been a candidate!"

Bogo shrugged his boulder shoulders. "I suppose they must've widened their pool of participants," he said. "While those guys are plenty huge, they still all pale in comparison with you. The organizers had to have realized what a farce the contest would've been if you were ignored."

"I guess that makes logical sense..." Clawhauser muttered, stroking his squared jaw. "Figured they'd have mentioned something before officially announcing it, but I welcome the award all the same!"

"It'll look nice hanging on your wall."

Indeed, the walls to Clawhauser's office were lined with his various accomplishments - everything from the degrees he achieved while in school, to medals of heroism granted by the mayor, to, yes, even accolades regarding his impressive physique. The fan mail, however, was being kept a secret; some things were far too obscene for a work environment, especially when he received enough to fill a burlap sack every other week!

And in the middle of all that was his private gym, the various benches heavily indented from frequent use, though he liked how it inadvertently displayed that it belonged to him. Not even Bogo could lift like he could, and his boss was the biggest man he knew! Besides himself, of course.

Watching the buffalo close the door clued Clawhauser into the Chief's real intention, one he welcomed with a lascivious grin. "You don't think this could've waited until tomorrow's meeting?"

"I thought it best to say something beforehand, and I didn't think you'd mind." A lewd twinkle in Bogo's eye emphasized his need for his second-in-command.

"You're right, I don't." Seeing the bovine saunter over to him had Clawhauser hot under the collar, that would be if his collared shirts actually fit him.

Without saying anything else, Bogo planted his lips against the cheetah's. Since promoting the swollen cat from regular law enforcement officer to Assistant Chief of Police the two of them had spent a lot of time together, usually in that very room. Being a step away from each other on the job ladder meant they worked on the same cases quite often, leading them to get to know one another much more personally. That kind of privacy led to them talking about everything from their lifting routines to their favourite musicians, but also their love lives, and that was where the two of them grew far more intimate.

The pair of them admitted to the other that they harboured feelings, not realizing they were mutual. To their combined surprise, neither of them had much experience in the way of relationships, meaning the other behemoth was close to their first love. That made things exciting, if a tad awkward as they had to learn how to use these new emotions in bodies more befitting to crush tanks with. But plenty of practice had been done since then, and it led to them knowing how best to push each other's buttons on multiple levels, making their hearts pump blood both from love and lust. It was pertinent that sufficient air conditioning was installed as they ended up making things rather steamy.

And that was more than okay with Clawhauser as he reveled in the attention that the studly buffalo gave him. The way their immense bodies pressed along the other's made his heart jump in glee, especially since every subsequent embrace wordlessly expressed how much bigger the pair of them were getting. Eventually they might not be able to kiss at all, and while it would be a pretty big blow to him, the thought that he could be too big to do ordinary things riled him up beyond belief.

He could've kept the smooch going for far longer than it did, but an errant grope of his planetoid pecs shifted his focus elsewhere. A breathy laugh was forced from his throat as his boss' hands worked over his chest, those rough fingers manhandling thick nipples forced to point straight down as his delicious beef took up all the prime real estate. "And here I thought herbivores didn't have a taste for meat."

"We're known to make exceptions," Bogo bawdily breathed down the cat's thick neck. "I can't help it if I'm entranced by someone who's rejected nature dictating how his life should go. I bet running might be a challenge now."

Clawhauser smirked. "Oh, my running days are well and truly behind me. Why run when I can lift? Someone's gotta move people's cars when they're illegally parked!"

"It would doom you to a life of endless paperwork."

"Not endless. It gives me plenty of time to work out." Ever the hornball, Clawhauser encouraged the buffalo to continue, squeezing his impossibly thick arms to his sides to puff out his chest.

Feeling his subordinate egging him on, Bogo redoubled his efforts and fondled what had to have been several hundred pounds of sumptuous rock-hard bulk, his digits failing to indent the muscle. The sight of the feline growing over time turned him on in ways he didn't know were possible. He enjoyed how much the cheetah's spots have stretched with the tons of beef stuffed under that pelt.

He nosed along one of his Assistant's tremendous traps, taking in the delightfully heady scent of the larger man, though still unsure as to why it had such a pronounced sweet undertone. Perhaps that's what a lifetime of eating baked goods does to a person.

Clawhauser, meanwhile, let the bovine loose on his body, relishing in the attention that only another titan could bestow upon him. A purr rumbled through his expansive torso, a result of his appreciation for the Chief's ministrations. This was the life.

The manhandling he received also prompted his body to respond in a different way, with blood rushing towards his nethers. His pelvis twitched from the buffalo's admiration.

"Enjoying this, I see." The watchful eye of Bogo caught everything, his hand trailing down the cat's bloated abgut towards that burgeoning chub. Oh, how he adored that his employee's gut hadn't vanished, merely taken on a new life as all fat that used to be there became replaced by densely-packed muscle mass. It gave the cheetah a sense of size that few others, if any, matched, and that was including himself.

"How could I not?" Clawhauser replied, his breathing a bit staggered. A quick whiff of the air around them indicated that he wasn't the only one appreciating their time together, prompting him to think that he should get in on the action as well. With a sly grin, he reached forth and caressed his boss' swollen arms, gripping them knowing the bovid's strength could handle anything he gave.

That put a confident smile on Bogo's face. "Impressive, are they not? They might not be as big as yours, but I'm plenty proud of how far I've come." As if to demonstrate his satisfaction in his body he flexed a limb as hard as he could, parading the split peaks of his bicep in a boastful display. "I may not have the genes a lot of others have for putting on muscle, but there's nothing some earnest work can't solve."

"You certainly take some of the spotlight off me. Believe me, I'm not offended!" Clawhauser laughed, his monumental chest heaving with every breath. "It's nice to have more than one person to look up to around here, really set a good example for the rest of the force." His hand ventured below the bovine's belt, feeling the rapidly stiffening log currently straining the uniform's pants to their limit. A part of him felt he should be more careful as the situation could get explicit rather quickly, but another part wanted to take it as far as he could.

As much as Bogo wanted to continue - and he really did - he gently led the feline's hand away from his groin. "I think it might not be the best time for that. We've still got that case to follow up on, remember?"

That hit Clawhauser like a ton of bricks. The paper he retrieved earlier was imperative to an ongoing investigation he was in the process of leading along with the buffalo, though with his boss having other matters to attend to it got pushed to him. "No, you're absolutely right. I almost forgot!" He rubbed the side of his face.

"It happens." Bogo patted the bulky cheetah's shoulder before tracing a finger along his Assistant's jaw, coaxing the larger man to look up at him. "Later, though?"

Clawhauser shot back a grin, one simultaneously warm but also predatory. "It's a date, stud."

Bogo reciprocated with a smile of his own before leaving the office, giving the spotty feline a good, long look at his mountainous back and ample rear end. He knew exactly how best to tease the colossal cat.

With the welcome distraction now having removed itself from the room, Clawhauser set his attention back on the paper, drumming his claws along his desk as the gears in his head turned. The case in his hands was hefty, requiring cooperation from many people across several departments of the precinct. Trying to make any progress took hours of his time away and often involved a lot of waiting.

Waiting - that was easily the worst part of the job. He sighed as he sat back in his swivel chair, ignoring its protests.

Eventually boredom set in, coaxing him out of his seat and to pace around his office, much to the relief of his chair. Having nothing to do pained him on a molecular level as he much preferred being active in some regard. That much was obvious if looking at him as his body autopiloted over to his gym set to pick up a massive dumbbell, curling several thousand pounds with ease as he continued his absentminded walking. Every rep caused his bicep to pump, swelling into a peak taller than the height of the average citizen of Zootopia - a feat unimaginable to almost everyone else, but routine for him.

But the increased blood flow did guide him to the possibility of utilizing his equipment, if only to pass the time with. Oh, but what if he had the opportunity to fuel up beforehand? A clawed finger trailed along the landline on his desk, circling the button that connected him to reception. He needed a box of his favourite protein donuts; his day was about to get a whole lot more productive.