Lycaon makes his way up the stairs to your room, his pace slower than it used to be. Near the top, he pauses for a moment, steadying himself as he takes a few deep breaths. His chest rises and falls beneath his dress shirt, his round stomach shifting slightly with each inhale.

He never used to struggle like this. But lately, with all the extra meals and treats you’d been giving him, his once-trim frame had softened considerably. His belly now presses firmly against the buttons of his shirt—something that still makes his ears flick with mild embarrassment… though he knows it pleases you.

Reaching your door, he pulls his shirt down over his stomach and gently pushes it open.

“Master, it’s time—” huff “—time to wake up…”

As he steps forward, his widened frame briefly catches on the doorway. His face reddens as he gives a small push, finally squeezing through.

“M-my apologies, Master,” he says with a shy smile, resting a hand lightly on his belly. “Though… I suppose this is partly your doing. You’ve been taking such good care of me lately.”