Gazelle's Private Tour

Written by Tguy78

Comissioned by Dragonmaster3417

Summary:

Until this very day, Zootopia's signature chocolate factory has been closed off from prying eyes. But when the city's most famous pop star is allowed in for a tour alongside her bodyguards, her curiosity leads to an ordeal both big and blue.

Notes:

Contains blueberry transformation and inflation, clothes tearing, partial nudity, humiliation, and arousal.

Deem Evermore and the Sharklets belong to Dragonmaster3417 on Twitter.

Jax O'Gaytor belongs to Jax O'Gaytor on Twitter.



 With a loud, long, and ominous groaning roar, the enormous metallic door at the end of the docking station opened inward, granting passage into a most top-secret facility. Its circular form was a mammoth of a barrier, one that the entire group on this tour stood before with prolonged bewilderment. It made them collectively question the purpose of such a generously-sized entryway, what exactly passed through it that warranted its installation. The confuzzlement from these four, combined with awe, coursed through their minds from the moment they entered this chocolate factory, a marvellous world of wonders galore nestled deep into the heart of Zootopia, its doors closed to visitors until this very day. This exception came to be from the request of its most famous face, her tall, slim figure with curvy hips standing at the center of the dock, a wave of dark-blue light drenching her and the others accompanying her, the crashing of the chocolate rapids behind her joining the rounded door in creating a churning cacophony. Surrounding her were three off-duty members of the Z.P.D., the little rabbit, fat cheetah, and burly water buffalo all staying in relative proximity to the acclaimed Gazelle, their postures firm but their faces at ease. In front of them all, standing next to each other with a few feet separating them, the factory’s two co- owners proudly faced their next stop on the tour, their faces stretched into upmost glee.

     After the building anticipation of this moment came to an end, the gigantic door having swung fully inward, the guests on this tour found their faces lighting up anew in amazement, as though their foray into the Chocolate Room and along the river could not be topped. This new room had to have been the same size as that luscious biome of sweets; more than that of a warehouse. Though unlike its bright and cheery aura accompanied by edible nature, what revealed itself to the group was the complete opposite. Darkened blue metal coated the far-reaching walls, massive floor, and distant ceiling, reflected upon by a myriad of colourful stage-lights that hung high above alongside a labyrinth of silvery catwalks. These opposite hues created an unnerving feel as the quartet were led inside, their guides slowly marching them into the strangely chilly space. As they entered, the guests found their surroundings to be fitted with a light layer of fog, thickening at select points throughout the room, most often in the distance. The rabbit, cheetah, buffalo, and gazelle looked around in directions never the same as one another, for all across the sprawling floor, machines and laboratories had been firmly erected, their distinct lights further making the room resemble a wacky solar system. Never had they seen anything like this; an industrial garden of controlled mayhem, where every machine housed the capacity to bring great change into the confectionary world. As they currently stood, they were enigmas, abstract works of mechanical art, their true purpose hard to tell. So enthralled were they all by what they witnessed that the sound of the giant door closing from behind startled them, the chocolatiers unfazed. Once the members of the group were well past their titanic entryway, the guides turned around to address them.

     “Welcome to the Inventing Room!” Deem Evermore proudly declared, his gloved hands outstretched with his cane held in one. The thin raccoon’s purple coat and spotted pink shirt stood out brightly within the room, joined by light-beige pants and a brown top-hat whose hue resembled pure chocolate. “This is the heart of the entire factory, where sweets and science coalesce into creations never before dreamed of.”

     “That’s right, Deem.” Jax O’Gaytor bounced right off him. The tubby alligator rested his hands and own cane atop his bulbous stomach whose light-yellow scales hung exposed, his body snugged against by a velvety red overcoat with a black shirt and pants, his own top-hat of black with streaks of that same red sitting atop his rounded head. “Here, we work tirelessly to bring to buying patrons new ways of enjoying Evermore and O’Gaytor products. While we dream up and design all sorts of potential items, the Sharklets build, maintain, operate, and act as test subjects for our experiments.”

     These female shark workers tended to their positions all around the Inventing Room. Once from a massive Amazonian tribe, their large, beefy bodies of grey and white, packed with ample muscle, were accentuated beneath latex suits that glistened in the cornucopia of lights. Their large tails with fins at the end wagged passively whilst they worked away, the click-clacks of their high-heels joining the combined noise of churning, creaking machinery and shocking, bubbling scientific activity.

     “Experiments?” Judy Hopps curiously inquired, the rabbit wearing her pink button-up and dark-blue jeans from the farm not expecting such a mighty shift in the tour after the Chocolate Room. “What kind?”

     “Oh, nothing too complicated.” Deem casually waved his hand. “Typically of the ‘eat this candy and see what it tastes like’ variety. It’s a standard around here for the Sharklets. Their rigorous work ethic allows them to not grow plump around the middle, no matter how many treats we have them test out.”

     “That sounds like a job I’d be perfect for.” Benjamin Clawhauser rubbed his paws together excitedly, looking to both guides with pleading eyes. “Do you have any spots open for part-time work?”

     “Clawhauser!” Chief Bogo sternly addressed him, making the hefty cheetah jump, or as much as he could given his profuse weight. “Knock it off. We’re already occupied as is.”

     “I know, Chief. But I can’t help it!” Clawhauser enthusiastically whined. “I already have quite the palette for sweet-stuff. All the snacks I eat at the precinct have trained me for this moment.”

     As the cheetah continued to plea his case with immense enthusiasm, Gazelle tuned out the banter between her three mammal companions. The uber-famous pop star had yet to say a word since entering the Inventing Room, for she had been rendered too stricken by awe to make a sound from her golden voice. Her eyes gazed up and around the place’s many machines, the dazzling lights reminding her of being on stage. She stared at the Sharklets who remained steadfast in their work, their endless numbers moving through the room like a colony of ants dressed the best; walking across the floor and up on the catwalks, working on products in testing. Curiosity promptly emerged. In Gazelle’s head sparked a desire to learn about these towering inventions, to see them at work, to learn of their purpose, and maybe… just maybe, to have a taste of one of their resulting creations. After all, curiosity was what sparked interest in her having a private tour of the factory, and her enjoyment of the prior room’s smorgasbord of candy had been kept minimal, believing there to be something even greater awaiting her later on. It was while the peak of her euphoric thoughts towards this desire faded out that she heard the conversation behind her still unfold.

     “I think Clawhauser has a point there.” Judy told her boss, a move that the cheetah instantly appreciated. “Especially with the passion he has for food.”

     “Don’t encourage him, Hopps.” Bogo snorted at her, the slightest hint of a warm smile denouncing the façade of sternness from his words.

     “Might I have the chance to taste one of the candies in this room?” Gazelle finally spoke, towards the co-owners who exchanged glances at each other.

     “I’m afraid things work a little differently in here than in the Chocolate Room, Ms. Gazelle.” Deem answered, before clarifying what he meant to her and the rest of the group. “We may have encouraged you to ‘try everything’ at our last stop, but here, we must make clear the exact opposite. Everything you now see before you poses some measure of risk in consumption. These products are all still under development, after all. Other than that, you are all free to explore and look around as before. Just no eating anything made in this room. That’s for us to take charge of.”

     The raccoon chocolatier raised his cane to gesture at the expansive realm behind him, his beaming smile further encouraging the guests to see this place for themselves. As the visiting quartet moved together, Jax was quick to add onto his co-owner’s words. “And don’t forget the most important thing of all: Have fun!”

     Over the following chunk of time, Gazelle, Judy, Bogo, and Clawhauser traversed the Inventing Room as one. They walked up to the different machines and laboratories as though they were exhibits in the museum, observing the Sharklets at work; the candies being worked on by them. At the forefront of the group was Gazelle. Being the focal point of the tour, she led the way around the Inventing Room, going to whatever fascinated her most, the three Z.P.D. mammals following after her in close proximity, just as they had since arriving at the factory gates. It was most fortunate then with her quick movements from her growing curiosity that the off-duty officers and chief had dressed most casually for this outing, not wanting their uniforms to ruin the imaginative mood the factory embodied. Chief Bogo had taken it upon himself to don a forest-green flannel shirt that accentuated his firm pectorals and burly arms, the pairing with light-blue jeans making him resemble that of a lumberjack. Oppositely from such a mannerly outfit, Clawhauser dressed rather juvenilely. A bright white shirt with thick red stripes running horizontally across the fabric stretched down and out upon his widened figure, his flab accentuated from underneath. A pair of silky black pants similarly hugged tight against his hefty derriere.

     “Ohhh, I still can’t believe it!” He excitedly freaked out at the buffalo, tail swishing, brushing the curvy side of his own body against his chiseled one. “We’re really Gazelle’s bodyguards for the whole entire day! I don’t know what’s better: Being her bodyguards, or being her bodyguards at a chocolate factory. This is the hardest choice I’ve ever had to make, Chief.”

     “Clawhauser…” Bogo snapped him out of his fanboyish rant. “Need I remind you again? Be. Professional. We may not be working for the precinct right now, but we have a job to do that’s just as important. It’s hard enough as it is for me to remain composed in the presence of an important figure, but I must commit. And so must you.”

     “I’m sorry, Chief.” The heavy cheetah sheepishly uttered. “Its just been so hard to keep a level head. It must be all that sugar from the Chocolate Room still making me go cuckoo.”

     “I know.” The buffalo plainly acknowledged. “I had to pull you away from that river before you fell into it.”

     Not far from the group, Jax and Deem followed after them, keeping some distance as they marvelled about, all while chatting casually to each other. In due time, the visiting quartet approached one particular lab that proved most striking to the eyes. It was a glass cylinder with a thick, futuristic white shell around its edges, as big and towering as a fully-grown elephant. Emerging from the top inside along with bright lights, a large ray pointed down at an enormous crystal that filled the space within, its wildly jagged edges nearly touching the surrounding glass. Standing atop a ladder next to the container, a Sharklet wore welding goggles and operated a remote control, carefully maneuvering a knob to control the ray, looking in at it and the crystal through the top of the glass. The pop star, standing right before the glass, and the Z.P.D.’s finest from not far behind, watched as a bright blue laser beamed down from the ray, chipping away at some of the crystal’s jagged points. At the bottom of the cylinder, broken-off pieces fell into a tray, ready to be pulled out by the handle whenever it grew to be full.

     “What’s this?” Judy turned to ask an approaching Jax, lumbering up to and standing next to her. “It doesn’t look like it belongs in a chocolate factory.”

     “Oh, but it does.” The hefty gator happily told the rabbit, the others listening in. “On the other side of this glass is our new, state-of-the-art Crystal Candy! It shares some similarities with your everyday rock candy, except the flavour here lasts much longer. It was recently unearthed from an ancient temple far away. The Sharklets in charge of that expedition managed to ship it back in one piece, which is ironic given that we’ve been breaking it down into more pieces.”

     “Candy taken right from a temple… you don’t hear of that anywhere else.” Judy mused to herself. “That must’ve been a dangerous job for the Sharklets.”

     “On the contrary, Ms. Hopps.” Jax assured her otherwise. “With their great strength and knowledge of the ruins, it might as well have been a piece of cake for them… just don’t ask them about the boulder.”

     Judy gave a delayed nod at the alligator’s whisper before expressing concern, as a new piece of Crystal Candy fell into the tray with a sharp clank. “What I don’t get is the supply. If this is going to be sold to millions of people, how can that be sustained with only one rock like this? It’s bound to run out at some point.”

     “You’d be quite surprised at what it’s capable of.” The bigger of the two guides excitedly explained. “What’s amazing about this crystal is that no matter how much we mine from it, it regrows any part we chip off. As far as we’ve been able to learn, there’s no end to it!”

     Him, Judy, and the rest of the tour, alongside Deem standing some feet away, watched as a new piece of crystal rapidly sprouted from where the last piece had just been cut. The spectacle astonished the rabbit, cheetah, and gazelle, with the buffalo concealing his under his dour demeanour.

     “This Sharklet here is keeping an eye out for only the best-looking pieces to be broken off.” Jax added. “It might be hard to tell, but certain parts actually taste better than others. Closer observations are still being conducted, but we’re excited to get it into the hands of our many customers.”

     “So amazing!” Gazelle speechlessly declared, her head half-turned at Jax and the others before turning back towards the Crystal Candy. “You could eat it as slow as you want, and it would still hold its flavour.”

     In her fascination with this machine, the celebrity proceeded to crouch right before the cylinder, her stance wide and her hands on the glass, making her resemble a kid looking at an ice-cream display. The action became an unintentional showcase of her own attire, almost as though posing for a barrage of cameras. Given the significance of this tour to her, what with her requesting it, Gazelle took it upon herself to dress her absolute best for this unforgettable day. And for that, she needed help. Her tailors and designers worked night and day to prepare a most stunning outfit for her fit figure, standing out spectacularly even in the realm of the Inventing Room. Custom-made, a maroon tracksuit made from the finest of velour fabric adorned her tall physique. On the sides of both thin sleeves and pant-legs, stripes of gold ran down them. These same streaks of gold appeared on the underside of the maroon material, curved around her breasts - of which an insignia reading D&J in cursive sat atop her left one - and lean middle in the form of the zipper, with an especially thick stripe marking the end of the tracksuit’s upper-half, cutting itself off a few inches below her bosom, fully exposing her light-furred midriff. The backs of her hooves lifted off from the floor in her lowered stance, causing her white and maroon sneakers to squeak against the metal. Suddenly, Gazelle proceeded to bend over, her face pressed softly against the glass, gazing all the way up at the top of the sizeable crystal. Her shifted position caused her backside to stick up and out at the others, showing off the delectable writing across the seat of her tracksuit pants: The word “Delicious” bedazzled in gold. Ever-so subtly did it stretch and bulge against the curves of her butt, causing Jax, Judy, Bogo, and Clawhauser to avert their eyes from her direction, not letting the abrupt awkwardness of the moment linger.

     Before long, curiosity led Gazelle through more of the Inventing Room, her three bodyguards and the two chocolatiers never far behind. Up and down the enormous rows she navigated, giddily walking between them. At one point, she found herself back in the center of the room, when her eyes spotted a familiar sight all the way at one end.

     “What the…?” Gazelle wondered if she was looking at where they had come in from, seeing what looked to be the same gigantic circular door in the far distance, a great thicket of fog enshrouding it.

     But as the pop star looked closer, her bodyguards following suit after catching up to her, she noticed a large sign built into the wall above it, its neon-pink glow all that could be discerned. The fog had taken a particular shine to such a shine, rendering whatever words they formed unreadable from where she stood. It was indeed different than their entrance, a quick glance back confirming it. As much as she wished to know what it read and what laid on the other side of the door, Gazelle quickly found her attention turned to the sound of another machine, making her way over to it, the others following again.

     The tour stood before a baffling contraption, its design equally strange. A series of large conveyor belts were stacked atop one another, held together by metal chutes at their sides painted bright orange that had holes for the belt to pass through. Next to the catwalk closest above, a giant, transparent bag reminiscent of a piping bag was being filled by a Sharklet shovelling a wheelbarrow’s worth of a dense, caramel-coloured substance into it, that very filling occupying the inside of the bag as it periodically dispensed itself onto the start of the conveyor belt. These globs the size of pumpkins rode along the first belt, falling down the chute that led out to the second belt. There, a series of mechanical hands emerging from the first belt’s underside worked tirelessly, grabbing the globs, stretching them out like they were playing an accordion, and twisting them akin to hair being braided. These tasks were fulfilled in three seconds flat, the elongated masses placed back on the belt, promptly passing through its corresponding chute. On the third one, automated cleavers resembling guillotines rhythmically chopped the stretched-out globs, dicing each into innumerable pieces. On the fourth one, the belt was encased in a long stretch of metal with grates, acting as an oven that heated the caramel-coloured masses, high temperatures guaranteeing fast results. Said results were shown on the fifth and final conveyor belt, revealing the pieces to have shrunken down to the size of bow-ties, shrivelled to where they curled from the heat, resting on their curved centers. Neatly did they ride down the last of the belt before another Sharklet swiped them into a bucket in her hands, the belt continuing underneath itself until it rode up the end of the chute, looping around to the start.

     “What kind of machine is this supposed to be, Mr. Evermore?” A puzzled Bogo asked Deem right next to him, both standing in front of the final conveyor belt. “I’ve never seen such a ridiculous thing.”

     As though the products of the machine heard his rude tone, one of the clumps leapt from the conveyor belt with sudden, frenzied sentience. Deem watched with an amused smirk as the gasping buffalo, unable to react in time, felt his index and middle fingers bind together on one of his hands. He raised it up to his startled face, the two thick digits stuck together no matter how hard he wriggled them, the product having tightly wrapped itself around them, back to being inanimate.

     “There’s no need to be alarmed by what’s attached itself to you, Mr. Bogo.” The raccoon assured him. “Although I’m surprised to see a man of your strength struggle to free himself from our Tangle Taffy.”

     “Tangle Taffy?” Bogo repeated with even more confusion, ignoring the raccoon’s verbal jab at his inability to break free from its constraints.

     “Correct.” The guide affirmed, hand resting on his cane. “This machine produces thousands of these unique taffies every hour, as part of our April Fools line of sweets. They spring up when you least expect it and tangle your fingers together, hehe. And all you have to do is eat your way out of it. It’s candy with a spring in its step! Why, you can give one to an unsuspecting friend, and watch with glee as they’re taken aback by its clinging onto them.”

     Bogo, no longer moving his fingers and finding the taffy a curious sight, proceeded to bite into it. His eyes brightened with amazement, quickly eating the rest of it and freeing his digits. As he spoke again, his outrage quelled, chews ringing out in close proximity.

     “Hmm… that wasn’t too bad.” He told Deem, admiring the thick, creamy texture. “Tastes good too.”

     “It certainly does, Mr. Bogo, but don’t go eating any more of them.” The slim racoon instructed the police chief. “We’re producing these in a very limited supply.”

     Bogo raised his brow. “How come?”

     Deem and Jax, the latter of whom heard the turn of discussion and waddled up to join his co-owner, pointed at a trio of Sharklets in a cubicle off to the side of the machine - Bogo, Judy, Gazelle, and Clawhauser looking at the bizarre spectacle. Two of the workers stood on each side of the third, whose entire body had become completely wrapped in Tangle Taffy from head to toe. Panicked muffles could be discerned from the trapped Sharklet, this mummy of the chocolate factory at the mercy of the pair surrounding her, who grabbed onto her pinned-down arms and rampantly ate away at the taffy to eventually remove it.

     “They’ve been at it for hours already.” Deem told the crowd. “It’s best to give them some privacy while they keep trying to free their co-worker.”

     Despite having been watched for several seconds, the two Sharklets noticed the sets of eyes aimed their way, briefly stopping and turning to look at the tour group and their guides, waiting to hear what the racoon thought of their progress.

     “You’re doing great, ladies!” Deem praised them a distance away, his voice raised but wholly positive. “Keep up the work!”

     The pair of Sharklets’ eyes sparkled at the words of one of their bosses, always eager to please him and earn his warm affection. With that, they went back to munching the taffy with renewed vigour, the trapped worker continuing to groan and shift from beneath the edible layer.

     “Don’t worry, chief!” Clawhauser gave his word to his boss as the tour was again led away by Gazelle. “I’d free you the same way if you ended up trapped like that… and not just because it’d taste good.”

     The pop star at the center of the tour proceeded to take in more of the Inventing Room’s sights, leading the mammals and lone reptile around for a short while more. Before long, the group was offered by the chocolatiers to be taken somewhere special, led to the presence of a monumental machine far larger than any other around it. How Gazelle had not yet gone to it eluded even her. But of everyone looking up at this colossal machine, her curiosity towards it outweighed all other. Three large spheres were suspended at varying points in the air by sturdy support beams - strange protrusions jutting out from them - all connected by tubes both black and silver. Two of these orbs, the highest and lowest elevated, appeared merely grey through their glass exteriors. The orb connecting between them, bright red and opaque, had a large funnel that bent towards the catwalk above. From the lowest sphere jutted out a wide mechanism that got thinner and thinner, sticking out and angling itself to where its tip stood at a mammal’s average height. This machine’s metallic sheen suggested it had recently been built, by-far the newest-looking in the room. Upon standing before it, the tour group took notice of a Sharklet up on the catwalk by the funnel, maneuvering a large wheelbarrow towards a missing gap in the railing up there. A quick forwards tilt allowed the cart’s contents to fall down the funnel, consisting of large objects that not a single visitor could discern, the funnel blocking their view.

     As the worker left with the wheelbarrow in tow, Deem and Jax both walked up to the contraption’s controls, each standing next to a large lever with a red, bulbous handle. Both looked at one another with growing smirks, nodding to each other before looking back at their guests.

     “Watch this.” The sly raccoon uttered, gripping the lever’s handle and pulling it down.

     Immediately, the machine noisily whirred to life, hissing like a giant feline. Steam shot out from its various valves. Metallic creaks rang out through the room. Those glass spheres glowed in neon colours, pulsating like electricity while adding to the vibrant lighting. Together, Judy, Bogo, Gazelle, and Clawhauser slowly shuffled across the front of the rumbling machine, their collective curiosity brewing by the second. They surrounded the tip of its protrusion that thinned out towards them, the well-dressed pop star right in front of it. Over the course of seconds, the machine appeared as though it would blow, its tremors and groans a concern for both the eyes and ears. But before any of the four mammals could voice such worries at the candymakers, the machine started to settle back down, the rumbling flowing into the stem of the angled protrusion. Their eyes followed along the visible quivers of the metal shell, shifting closer and closer towards them with haste. Right when it reached the end before Gazelle, this part of the machine extended itself further by a couple of feet, an even thinner piece of metal causing her to stagger back from it, the off-duty Z.P.D. members joining her. Another extension, somehow smaller than the one before, caused them to shift back again, the quartet watching as with the fading of the machine’s awful racket, a tiny, powdery-white stick of rubbery texture dispensed from its furthest end, its arrival signalled by a most jolly DING!

     Gazelle instantly snatched the stick from its dispenser, holding it between her fingers and up before her face, her eyes lit up at its awesome creation. While she and most of the other guests felt amazement at the machine and its end product, there lingered some measure of disappointment in the water buffalo.

     “That’s it?” Bogo uttered so at the co-owners. “All that racket for a little thing like this?!”

     “‘A little thing?’” Jax repeated his words with bafflement. “Do you have any idea what that even is?”

     “It’s gum!” The famous gazelle exclaimed, looking at the guides, nearly jittery from the excitement flowing through her.

     “Right you are!” The alligator proudly gestured at her, his hands then resting comfortably on his belly. “But there is much more to it than that.”

     “Oh, plenty!” Deem took over as though this talk had been rehearsed. “What you’re all looking at is a stick of gum with an entire three-course dinner inside it. You simply pop it in your mouth, begin chewing it, and in seconds, you will be fed a scrumptious meal that would otherwise take hours to prepare by hand. This stick contains a tomato bisque, mushroom pasta with a baked potato, and blueberry pie with vanilla ice cream.”

     Gazelle felt herself salivate at the offerings between her fingers.

     “And what do you plan to achieve with this gum?” An inquisitive Judy asked.

     “Well,” the raccoon explained, “it provides ample nourishment for folks who might not be able to afford it. This gum will be on store shelves for one low, low price, providing an alternate means of healthy eating. We hope for it to solve the hunger of mammals all over the world.”

     “That sounds amazing!” The rabbit exclaimed. “You’ll be making a big difference for so many lives!”

     “That is our goal.” Deem nodded. “Although, there’s still a bit of work to be done on it.”

     “What kind of work?” Clawhauser inquired.

     The racoon began to clarify. “It’s just a tiny, little, eenie-meenie matter of-.”

     “Three courses in a stick of gum is all I need to hear.” Gazelle interrupted, dismissively waving her hand at whatever concern was about to be told. “This is exactly what I need. It’ll be perfect to chew on before a show. I can save so much time and make sure I’m not exhausting myself between performing and travelling.”

     She began to place the gum in her mouth, seeing the concerned looks of everyone else around her that led her to hold it before her lips.

     “I really wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Deem politely yet firmly told the pop star whose face hinted at a pout.

     “I must insist with my partner here.” Jax reinforced. “We clearly stated from the beginning that-.”

     “I appreciate your concerns,” Gazelle cut in again, “I really do, but I do wish to see what this gum is all about.”

     With quick thinking, Judy got her attention, leaning forward and pleading with the celebrity. “Gazelle… I think it’s for the best if you listen to Mr. Evermore and O’Gaytor. I mean, we all want the same thing. For your safety that we from the Z.P.D. are here to ensure, maybe it would be a good idea to put the gum down?”

     But this earnest talking too proved ineffective.

     “Oh please, Officer Hopps.” Gazelle nearly whined, a seldom-seen irritation emerging. “What I want is this gum! It’s the first thing here I’ve truly craved in this factory, and I won’t let some little defect with it stop me. What? Will the bisque be a little hotter than it should? Or will the ice cream have melted? It doesn’t matter to me. I’ll be the first mammal in the world to have a chewing-gum meal!”

     To prevent anyone else from holding her back, she placed the gum in her mouth with haste, her jaw beginning to work its magic in reducing it to a wettened confectionary clump. Right away, an air of tenseness filled the room. Both Deem and Jax plus the other guests watched Gazelle chew in silence for several seconds, the former duo merely eyeing the display, the latter trio fearing for her safety. The noise of chews spread far and wide around its source, to where even the Sharklets knew what was commencing while they worked.

     “Hmm…” The pop star sounded, crossing her arms beneath her bosom, absentmindedly gazing up and around at the Inventing Room. “So far, I’m not tasting much. It almost seems like every other gum I’ve had. I guess you two really weren’t kidding when you said it needed more work.”

     That suddenly changed when her eyes widened and a noise whimpered out her mouth as though gagging on the gum. Such a stark reaction made the other guests tremble with worry, despite the fact that the gazelle kept on chewing.

     “What’s wrong, Gazelle?” Clawhauser briefly panicked, his hands pressed against his doughy cheeks.

     “It’s… it’s…” She first stammered slowly, the syllables segmented by her chewing. “It’s tomato bisque! I really can’t believe it! It’s so creamy, so warm. The tomatoes are rich as can be! I can even feel it running down my throat. There’s so much of it!”

     The pop star found herself in a euphoric bliss whilst she tasted the gum, a loving fullness perpetrating the inside of her stomach. Her tail wagged with delight, knees subtly bending inward. Excited moans followed suit. Her hands returned to her sides, where one of them rested itself atop her bare midsection, gently rubbing the lean surface of light-coloured fur that covered it, contrasting from the rest of her golden-brown hue.

     “That’s so cool!!” The cheetah squished his cheeks upward in excitement, ceasing when a firm hand gripped his shoulder.

     “Don’t egg her on, Clawhauser.” Bogo sternly told him.

     Clawhauser looked down with pensiveness. “Yes, Chief.”

     “I don’t even get what’s wrong with this thing.” Gazelle scoffed, feeling the rising warmth of her stomach.

     “That’s because you haven’t gotten to the problem yet.” Jax reminded her, he and Deem showing much less concern. “But there’s still time, you can still spit it-.”

     “Wait!” Gazelle cut him off, gasping as her eyes lit up anew. “It’s changing flavours… oh my gosh! Now it’s the mushroom pasta. Mmmm, the sauce is so zesty! Even creamier than the bisque! The mushrooms… they’re grilled to perfection! The taste is amazing! And the baked potato! I’ve never had one with this much butter on it. Oh, it’s so hot and fluffy, the skin crispy! It would be my honour if you and Mr. Evermore allow me to be the sponsor for this gum.”

     For the ever-worried Judy, Bogo, and Clawhauser, they could only watch Gazelle chew onward. It was clear to them that there was nothing they could do to talk her out of stopping her reckless act. But for the pair of co-owners, their sights remained set on deterring her still.

     “The offer is much appreciated,” the slimmer of the two chocolatiers uttered, “but I tell you that you are making a most grave mistake. You see, we’re quite concerned about a side effect that’s coming next, the-.”

     “Blueberry pie and ice cream!” Gazelle shouted at the top of her lungs.

     She basked in the sheer juiciness contained within the dessert’s warm and flaky crust, that scoop of sweet vanilla ice cream the perfect pairing. Her hand continued to rub her stomach, having reached the point of perfect fullness, oblivious to the startling reaction that swiftly made itself known.

     “What’s happening to her nose?” The rabbit anxiously mentioned, shakily pointing up at her area of concern.

     Bogo and Clawhauser did not need to be told to notice the strange sight on the pop star’s face, their bewildered eyes gazing at it too. On the precise center of her nose, a little blue dot whose shade was bright and pure faded into view, no bigger than that of a gumdrop. Deem and Jax observed with silence. They stood poised in contrast to the tour group’s trembling postures; their eyes too set upon the chewing gazelle.

     “Huh? What are you talking about?” Gazelle ignorantly replied, extending to the trio of worried looks aimed right at her.

     “It’s turning blue.” Bogo uttered, taken aback.

     Everyone watched as the stain defied logic. It began to spread beyond the point of its formation, travelling up the length of Gazelle’s nose, curving around the sides of her muzzle. The growing stares before her compelled the pop star to see for herself what her bodyguards told her. She looked down at her nose byway of going cross-eyed, stifling a gasp for she could clearly see that a third of it had turned blue, in addition to part of her muzzle. Removing her hand from her middle, Gazelle attempted to wipe off the stain, rubbing the back of her nose from side to side atop her face. But after several frantic tries, nothing came off, at last instilling fear into the guest of honour who still chewed the gum. Her eyes, now petrified greater than the other guests’, turned to the still chocolatiers, looking at them for answers without so much as demanding them. That was for the strongest guest to do.

     “What’s going on with her face?” Bogo snorted at the guides, nearly ready to turn this into an interrogation. “How do we stop this?!”

     “We can’t.” Deem first told him, the buffalo’s anger subdued in place of aching uncertainty. “That is, not until the gum has run its course on her.”

     Gazelle’s alarmed look remained as she chewed and chewed and chewed, during which, the blue stain ventured further in all directions. It seized the entirety of her face, leaving no strand of her golden-brown fur behind. The entirety of her long, wide nose-bridge mostly hidden by her lock of golden hair had completely changed complexion. Both cheeks, her chin, lips and eyebrows were dyed without hesitation, alongside her forehead and long, droopy ears.

     “O-M-Goodness!” Clawhauser squished his hands deeper into his cheeks, animated in disbelief. “You’re turning blue, Gazelle!”

     Gazelle found herself unable to move, almost paralyzed by that frightening revelation shouted at her. She looked down at her body, observing with shaky breaths the striking shade of blue spread and soak into more of her fur, both eyes darting all over her slender, wide-hipped physique. The bizarre hue steadily cascaded down her long neck like a waterfall, rounding the bend along each of her tense shoulders. It disappeared beneath the length of her velour maroon sleeves, unable to feel but certainly knowing that her arms changed colour. Yet directly below her neck, the gazelle’s eyes followed the blue as it engulfed the subtle curvature of her breasts, their tops visibly changing until the rest of them vanished under more of her tracksuit. Fortunately, or unfortunately, varied from the mixture of terror and curiosity that struck her senses greater by the second, she could see the blue shade emerge from underneath where her top cropped at, starting to trickle down along her bare stomach. Right as she locked her sight onto her bluing middle, Gazelle suddenly spotted from the corner of her eye her wrist starting to change, the colour having conquered her entire arm. She straightened her stance, raising the limb and flipping it from side to side, watching her hand plus its fingers be coated in azure, not needing to look at the other one to know it too followed suit.

     With the rapidly advancing takeover of her bodily hue, Judy, Bogo, and Clawhauser started to back away from her; slow, shaky steps that conveyed just how frightened they had become from the peculiar metamorphosis. They wound up towards where Deem and Jax stood by the gum machine, the five of them observing together the bluing pop star. No, this was not some trick of the light. As unmistakably bizarre as everything else in this fantastical factory, Gazelle’s fur and bodily exterior became fully washed over by that unnatural colour. While closely eyeing her fingers, more of her features changed tone. The others saw the turn of her exposed stomach like the window to her soul, as blue as her outside. Both her waist and hips were dyed, the blue pouring down beneath her pant-legs and going after her thighs and legs. Her tail, swaying frantically without end, became inked over, resembling the end of a paintbrush that would start spreading its dipped complexion at any second. Coming out beneath her pants, the pop star’s ankles and hooves lost their original looks, replaced in the blink of an eye. Meanwhile, from up-top, the roots of her hair took on the very same shade as her new fur, rising and flowing along every strand that partly obscured her face, her periphery catching the moment when their tips had been completely taken over. The same fate befell even her horns, smoothly coating over their darker appearance in seconds. It was with the reaching of those pointed tips that Gazelle had completely turned blue, her brown eyes the sole remnant of her prior form.

     Despite what had happened to her, Gazelle still failed to speak, too swept-up from her fright to stop chewing that defective gum. But out of nowhere, just when things could perhaps calm down and a solution could start to be figured out, she felt a cool, wet shudder run down the length of her spine.

     GUURRRRRRRRGLLLLLLLL- GLOORRP!!!

     Her stomach grumbled with a thick, runny churn, louder than any it had ever made before. Gazelle softly moaned, feeling her midsection subtly push forth by an inch or two, a subtle case of bloating clearing affecting it. Her hips and thighs joined in, widening a smidge and hugging tighter against the inside of her pants. Even her crotch grew a tad, appearing to merge with the round curvature that her other features now supported. The shocking sight made the other guests stare directly at her, her churning middle most of all and how it spilled a little over her waistband. Judy gasped in unparallel horror, hands clasping around her mouth. The nearby Sharklets who had noticed Gazelle’s newfound plumpness began to back away from her too, disappearing into the Inventing Room’s darkest corners. At the same time, various spots across her tracksuit, starting with her shoulder, soaked through with a dark-blue liquid, erasing every trace of velour maroon that it touched, rendering the fabric a bluish-purple. These splotches spread all over Gazelle’s attire, merging and becoming bigger by the second. They felt cool, damp, uncomfortably sticking to her fur. Every spec of gold shifted into a dark blue hue, the bedazzled words on her butt remaining ever-so vivid. Looking down, the bloated gum-chewer shakily felt across that of her stomach, continuing to swell little by little. Her heart skipped a beat when the azure flesh squished and sloshed, the unnatural sound troubled and bassy heard by her staring observers. In no time at all, Gazelle’s tracksuit had been ruined, soaked through the bone into another shade of blue; one contrasting from her actual body.

     The pop star brought her hand away from her tummy, bringing both arms to her curving sides when they and said tummy swelled again. She stifled a whimper, sensing the strange case of fullness filling her stomach’s reached capacity. She knew the gum had filled her up plenty already, but this sensation, mightily foreign, made her nerves tingle with most discomfort.

     “Mr. Evermore… Mr. O’Gaytor… what’s happening to me?” She asked with thick dread.

     “We did try to warn you, Ms. Gazelle.” Deem lightly chastised her, watching her body rumble before growing a touch more. “It’s always that pesky dessert that makes its chewers bite more than they can, well, chew.”

     “We’re terribly sorry.” Jax added in, awkwardly scratching behind his scaly green neck-flab.

     With that, the two guides gave the terrified gazelle and her bodyguards some much-needed space, backing away from them as one like Tweedledee and Tweedledum. The other guests, noticing their synchronized retreat, glanced at them by the further end of the gum machine before back at Gazelle, her plight only worsening.

     The azure celebrity proceeded to expand with steadiness, her torso rounding and filling out. Her clothes started to ride up, her top exposing more of her bubbling belly, drooping over the entirety of her curved-out waistband. Both hips, already the largest among most mammals, doubled then tripled across several seconds, their upper-ends poking out of the top of her pants, all while her thighs filled and stretched against the fabric right below. Her crotch continued to push against her lower attire, becoming one with the shape of the belly right above it. Bogo, Clawhauser, and Judy could see the gazelle’s stomach ripple and jostle with uncanniness, taking on the characteristics of a puddle being disturbed, filling into a most turgid state. Gazelle could already sense the tightness of her attire, knowing it had been made for a figure once like hers. She bent over, placing both arms around her squishy torso, trying to obscure the view she wanted no one to have.

     “P- please! Don’t look!” She begged of her spectators. “I can’t be seen like this.”

     BWOOMP!!!

     A sudden, tremendous force pulled Gazelle backwards, nearly making her fall. She moaned, staggered briefly, sticking her arms out and waving them for balance quickly obtained. Upon standing up straight, the gum-chewer swung her head back and looked down at the pressure’s source, letting out another moan much louder than before. Her backside, once so slim and modest, had ballooned into two dense and heavy globes more than triple in size that brushed against the backs of her thighs. Her every shift made them slosh intensely, feeling within a burbling liquid that pushed against both her fur and the seat of her pants. The bottom clothing had never felt tighter, adding to the welling discomfort all over her. In gazing down with those startled eyes, that bedazzled word “Delicious” greeted her back, this time bulging and stretching with her jumbo-sized booty. It had become the perfect descriptor of her juicy cheeks, continuing to steadily swell into larger and weightier mounds. Gazelle watched as her pants subtly rode down, exposing the top of her blue buttcrack that made her act in desperation. An outreached hand attempted to pull them up, an already great task given the strain of the material. But while she huffed and whimpered, feeling every tug emphasize her beach ball-sized rump, she failed to see that it only invited disaster.

     SCHRIIIP!!

     Her profuse pulling had led her pants to start giving out on her, a series of tears splitting open all over their seat and down the seams of her thighs and legs, the likes of which had thickened considerably. Gazelle gasped. She let go of the soaked tracksuit, feeling on her fingers a sticky purplish-red substance that smelled oddly sweet. Her eyes observed the blue flesh of her behind push through these gaps, slowly growing with the rest of her figure. Miraculously, the sparkling letters upon it stayed intact as her pants partly tore asunder, emphasizing the turgid state of her behind. The pop star, forced to recognize that it was a losing battle to keep fighting for her backside’s cover, turned her gaze back at her front, where an even more troubling sight awaited her. In the seconds that had passed since she looked away, her entire body had grown immensely. It irrefutably resembled an overripe pear, one so wide and distended that her limbs began to look short by comparison. Her belly stuck out by a good few feet, pushing hard against her distended waistband that her crotch had joined with. The circumference of her form was several times that of her once-svelte frame, the sides of her torso now so wide that the tips of her fingers could barely reach them.

     Gazelle gazed upon her bodyguards with a slow, hard pan, her body visibly rippling whilst it kept on getting larger. Just like her, they could not believe what was happening, the center of her belly around the navel glowing a bright, unnatural purple.

     “She’s swelling up…” Bogo spoke with a lump in his throat.

     At this current stage, she would never be able to perform again. There was no way her microphone would not pick up the sounds of her body’s stormy sloshing, or its wobbles so intense from her slightest sway that they threatened to send her off-balance and to the ground. Worse yet was how her legs slid apart with her oversized crotch. Gazelle was about to cry out for help once more when she felt her breasts powerfully rumble, having already flattened in comparison to her massive belly. The growing celebrity whimpered with unease, stretching her arms up to try and feel them, an effort more laborious with their continually-growing stubbiness. Right as she made contact with it, her chest surged forth in size, surpassing several cup-sizes in the blink of an eye. The powerful growth spurt made her crop-top yank forward, pulling down the zipper all on its own until it barely rested at the bottom of the jostling spheres. While their lower-ends remained obscured, the vast majority of them had been presented to the view of the group, the Z.P.D. mammals averting their eyes from the voluptuous sight. A frantic Gazelle desperately planted her arms across only a fraction of her heaving bosom, feeling them squish and slosh like her butt. But for all her efforts, she was unable to hide them, especially as she felt them continue to slowly expand.

     The growth of the singer’s chest led Judy to a horrible realization. It was all so clear to her now. The final flavour of the gum, the pigmentation of her fur, the profuse swelling of her body and the nauseatingly sweetened scent it exuded. Judy of all mammals knew exactly what was happening, her terror-filled eyes gazing up at the growing gazelle. “Like a blueberry.”

     Bogo and Clawhauser looked to the rabbit, her few words containing such disturbing truth to them. Their heads then swivelled back to Gazelle when they heard her loudly whimper as though for their attention, the reason why freaking them out. As she began to grow taller alongside wider, her mind processing what Judy had said, the pop star’s face egregiously inflated. Her cheeks ballooned to the size of melons. They pushed up into the bottom of her eyes, her vision forced to squint a little. While this transpired, both her eyes transformed in colour, their browns of normalcy washed away in favour of a glowing blue that looked more unnatural than what covered her fur or clothes. They widened in accordance to her bloating cheeks, her moans turning muffled, struggling to speak. Gazelle’s gaze darted all over herself as she filled to no end. Her trembling hands continued to pat around her chest, facing increased difficulty with the sudden swelling of her arms, widening and feeling heavily water-logged, quickly making them hard to bend as they once could. Nevertheless, she felt those heaving breasts that kept on blowing up, stretching out her top whose sleeves tore open along their seams.

     “I wonder if there’s something wrong with the compound we used?” Deem casually leaned over towards his partner, eyes going between him and the blueberry.

     “Maybe the pie confuses itself for the soup and doesn’t know what to do with itself, hence all the…” Jax suggested, gesturing at the blue gazelle instead of finishing his sentence.

     Over the rest of this terrifying moment, Gazelle morphed into less and less of a living being by appearance. Her body’s defining features rapidly converged in shape. That blue belly, by-far the largest one, practically swallowed her whole. It merged with the rotund renditions of her hips and crotch, back and thighs, all coming together to bestow upon her the utter look of a sphere. Both sets of limbs, the bulk of what defied this otherwise universal roundness, continued to widen with that cool, dense liquid, their uncanny stubbiness evolving into all-out recession. Gazelle further panicked when she felt her hands slip away from her giant chest, watching as they were slowly pulled into the upper-corners of her orbing body, a pair of divots growing inward. In parallel, her legs underwent the same fate, the tips of her hooves barely making purchase with the floor. The pop star suddenly moaned aloud when she no longer felt them even brush against the ground, for her crotch expanded so greatly that its bouldering underside made contact with it, lifting her lower appendages above. She began to idly rock in lethargic and circular motions, her new center of balance weeble-wobbly by nature. She kicked her hooves like mad, flailing them with as much energy she could muster when not focusing on her overwhelming fullness. The movement did nothing to bring them back down, lifting from the floor with each passing second.

     “Or perhaps it’s the blueberries themselves that are too ripe?” Jax pondered to Deem in return. “They overwhelm the compound and secrete all that juice when dessert happens.”

     “But they’re supposed to be ripe.” The raccoon countered the alligator’s claim. “You can’t have a delicious pie without a ripe filling. It has to be something else.”

     Higher and higher Gazelle rose, her view of the floor and the rest of the tour group vanishing below her giant blueberries for breasts. Their heads craned slowly to keep up with her petrified stare, backing away even further as one, once again nearing those observant chocolatiers. The growing distance between the group and the gazelle truly painted the picture as to her monumental size. Her spherical form ballooned in every direction, outgrowing nearly every machine in the Inventing Room. She could no longer feel her arms and legs as they sank into their divots, even her neck; the sudden revelation scaring her to no end. The pop star’s swollen head began to descend into its own divot, the lower-half of her face disappearing from view. She whimpered upon sensing the ends of her horns squishing into the backside of her head-divot, pulsing with discomfort and pressure that was a fraction of what she experienced in her humongous middle. All that juice, gallons upon gallons untold, turned her bulging core into a strained front, its purple glow intensifying in accordance. All around her, joining in with the cacophony of her filling, sloshing, gurgling, and chewing, Gazelle’s clothes ripped even more, neatly coming undone as intact remains clung to dear life against her, aided by their innate stickiness with how drenched they were in juice. Bigger gaps through her enduring scraps of clothes exposed more and more of her bare blue self, rippling with the immense excess of juice that crashed inside her with her weighty rocking on the floor.

     Right as her head neared the catwalks above, Gazelle’s swelling started to slow. It concluded on its own merely several seconds later, leaving her as a massive, rotund, and incredibly juicy blueberry. Her body possessed the unmistakable shape of a ball, even with her cleavage scrunched against her top. She felt unfathomably full, tight as a drum, nausea and dizziness dancing upon her senses. As she kept shifting - now frontwards and back - her terror-filled eyes looked down at her bodyguards and the factory owners, resembling rodents from her perspective.

     “Mmmph… MMMMMMMPH!!!” The immobile celebrity moaned for help, muffled and loud as can be beneath her head-divot pressed tightly against by her overflowing cheeks.

     Her appendages flapped like no tomorrow, brushing against the bare edges of their corresponding sinkholes. What remained of her soaked and torn tracksuit came close to resembling large-scale lingerie, much of her wet, blue fur left out in the open. Gazelle felt the Inventing Room’s cool air tickle her wall of a belly that faintly creaked, her deep buttcrack plus much of her cheeks, and most of her chest; that little zipper the only thing preventing them from completely flopping out.

     In the immediate aftermath of this metamorphosis, Bogo, Judy, and Clawhauser’s eyes remained fixated on the juice-filled gazelle, watching her rocking motions with trepidation, fearing she could crush them if they got too close. So afraid they remained in witnessing her idle movements and pleading that when the factory co-owners approached them from behind with such stealth, the raccoon opening his mouth, they all jumped by varying amounts; Clawhauser the most despite his portly figure.

     “We’ve tried the gum on at least forty Sharklets,” Deem informed the trio, “and each and every one of them ended up as a blueberry. It’s truly bizarre.”

     As everyone turned around to face their guides, Judy, front and center from where the pair stood, unleashed her fear and newfound anger right at them. “Do neither of you bozos care about what’s happened to Gazelle?!?”

     “Why, we most certainly do.” Jax calmly replied. “It would appear that Ms. Gazelle’s curiosity finally got the better of her.”

     “No!” The rabbit raised her voice, her arms following suit as her hands shook in rage. “She’s enormous! Zootopia can’t have a blueberry for a pop star! You have to fix her!”

     “Nothing to lose your head over, Ms. Hopps.” The raccoon told her, looking at and too addressing the furious gazes of both the cheetah and buffalo. “After going through this forty times before, we’ve long since perfected the solution to this situation.”

     “And what’s that?” Bogo snorted, crossing his arms so tight that his muscles bulged beneath his shirt.

     “Is it not obvious?” Deem smirked. “Ms. Gazelle needs to be taken to the Juicing Room at once!”

     The trio of bodyguards were somehow even more puzzled by this than witnessing a mammal turn into a giant fruit.

     “The Juicing Room?!” They blurted out together.

     “Yes, the Juicing Room.” Deem slightly nodded. “Only there can we squeeze all that pesky blueberry juice out of her, and get her down to size.”

     The raccoon fished out a purple walkie-talkie that matched his coat, pressing a button on its side while holding it firmly, bringing it up towards his mouth. If one were to listen very closely through all the noise in the room as well as Gazelle, the sounds of numerous other walkie-talkies being activated could be discerned, followed by the racoon’s voice.

     “Attention all available Sharklets.” He spoke into his device. “You may not need me to tell you this, but as company protocol, we have an ‘overripe’ that needs to be processed right away. Please do hurry. She’s looking awfully tight.”

     “Is Gazelle in any immediate danger?” Judy worriedly asked as Deem put away the walkie-talkie.

     “No, I wouldn’t say she is.” He first replied. “But she will be soon if she’s left to sit here and keep on chewing. Even more juice will start to fill her up, and once she’s reached overflowing capacity, well…”

     Jax cut in, bending over to better address Judy. “While we’re fortunate not to have a berry reach what my cohort here alludes to, rest assured that we are taking everything seriously to ensure Ms. Gazelle’s safety.”

     Right then, the combined sounds of many clacking high-heels approached the area of the Inventing Room occupied by the group of mammals, the alligator, and the giant blueberry. Dozens upon dozens of Sharklets lined basically every inch of the catwalks, all looking down at the berry squirming in place, while on ground floor, a dozen more emerged from the shadows that they had earlier vanished into. This group in particular walked up to Gazelle, unable to see them closely approach her spherical form. Together, they felt around the underside of her rocking self, her liquid weight on all sides rippling in their fingers. It was clear they were getting a feel for her sheer weight and susceptibility of being transported. Seconds later, the dozen Sharklets split in groups of two, with one standing right below Gazelle’s juice-filled belly, and the other standing well behind her and off to the side, visible to the bodyguards and guides.

     “What’s next on this magic tour of yours, Mr. Evermore?” Bogo sarcastically eyed the raccoon, letting out some of his frustration. “Are they about to sing some little song at her?”

     “Normally, yes,” Deem told the buffalo who looked at him with disbelief. “But we had to cut it due to budgets.”

     GLUNK!!

     The group of five proceeded to watch as the Sharklets in front of Gazelle sank their hands into her and gave her a push. Instantly, the pop star felt herself teeter backwards, the juice inside her sloshing manically.

     “HRRRMMPH!!” She moaned louder while she rolled along her backside and her rounded back, wincing at the cold floor touching her fur. “MMMMMMHH!!!”

     For a few seconds, she gazed up at the ceiling, not only seeing the vast network of catwalks above her, but the downward gazes of innumerable Sharklets, all eyeing her giant, bouncy gut, its purple glow reflected in their latex suits. Before she could further freak out from all these spectators, she was pushed backwards again. For an entire moment, the six Sharklets below moved Gazelle away from the group and the gum machine, her appendages waving for any semblance of mercy. As her breathing quickened, the gum-chewer screamed when her head rolled backwards against the floor, her horns creating an added but fortunately brief sense of pressure as they poked into her inflated upper-back. When it emerged, she caught a glimpse of not only the workers as they squished against her breasts to keep her moving, but the frightened gazes of Judy and Clawhauser, the bitter look of Chief Bogo, and the happy-go-lucky faces of Deem and Jax.

     After being rolled along for several rotations, Gazelle felt her entire body come to a near-complete stop, her crotch smooshing back into the ground. At first, she thought this scary ordeal had come to an end, her chewing becoming her stress-relief, only for her to whimper again when she felt six sets of hands shove her from the side. The other group of Sharklets took over for the first, their gloved hands sinking into the wet flesh of the celebrity’s sides, crotch, and head area. The sight made Deem and Jax start to panic, running after the Sharklets while the Z.P.D. mammals followed after them. From Gazelle’s swirling perspective, everything looked like a light show. The Inventing Room lit up her azure eyes, disappearing whenever she turned upside-down. For another moment was she propelled along much of the room, the first set of Sharklets giddily chasing after her. Deem and Jax ran up to where the second set of Sharklets began their pushing, a field of fog behind them, a back wall not much further. Judy, Bogo, and Clawhauser watched the unfolding scene from a distance.

     “That’s the wrong way!” Deem shouted at them, gesturing his raised cane behind him. “The Juicing Room is back this way!”

     But the Sharklets did not listen. They rolled Gazelle until she reached the center of the room: A spacious area kept away by the machines. Once together again, the twelve workers proceeded to split into groups of three, running off to the corners of the space, each facing towards the next. The guides and the bodyguards proceeded to watch as with a mighty shove from one of the groups, the pop star was pushed around in a square, each trio of Sharklets passing her around with tremendous glee.

     “Do forgive them for messing with her at this moment.” Jax told the other guests. “They always like to show off how strong and agile they are.”

     For a time, Gazelle continued to whimper in fear, unable to do anything to stop the Sharklets from toying with her as they pleased. But before she realized it, her mind began to thrum with ease, taking a shine to the sensations accentuated by each push. She no longer had to worry about being on her feet. As scary as it first was, being rolled gave in to immense relaxation, all that sloshing like music to her ears. The more glimpses she caught of her smaller-by-comparison surroundings, the more she enjoyed being so utterly big. Her blue fur sparkled in the light, a dazzling look that no costume or makeup could ever imbue onto her. All the while, the Sharklets on the catwalks cheered and applauded her, akin to a concert she performed with help below, only fuelling the bliss that reverberated all over herself. In nary a few minutes of being rolled around in laps, Gazelle felt her fright drain out of her. Her moans took on a tinge of excitement, feeling her oversized assets press and squish against the floor, sparks of titillation the result. A bright purple blush lit up her face soon enough, so enamoured from being a blueberry that she did not even realize when the Sharklets started rolling her back towards Deem and Jax.

     When the rabbit, cheetah, and buffalo saw Gazelle rolled towards them from the side, they took notice of her calmer, blushing face, happily chewing the gum that had caused her transformation. The pop star noticed in her calmer state that through the fog behind the co-owners who soon joined the other guests, those neon-pink letters re-appeared in her gaze. The closer she was pushed towards them, the clearer she could finally make out what once mystified her, “The Juicing Room” glowing above the door that opened for her; its once-giant frame now looking to barely accommodate her own. At least now, she would finally see for herself what laid on its other side. She moaned from this revelation, her bloated body undergoing a few more rotations before starting to enter through… that was, until her incredulously-sized circumference got wedged halfway in!

     The Sharklets heaved against the gazelle’s hindquarters. Sticking out at the other tour members and their guides, the word “Delicious” stretched tall and wide on their side of the doorway, its enlarging against her big blue ass comparable to a highway billboard. For a short moment did the workers struggle to get her through, all while the mammals and alligator watched them go at it.

     BLOONGPH!!

     A mighty shove sent the rest of Gazelle to the other side of the door, her pleased moans echoing down the tunnel she was rolled through. As she and the Sharklets disappeared from view, Deem and Jax walked towards the open door, both beckoning for the off-duty officers and chief to follow.

     “Come along now.” The raccoon warmly waved. “We might as well make this another stop on the tour.”

     The group of five thus followed the blueberry and her means of transportation, the dim tunnel brightening towards the Juicing Room. Large and roundly-shaped like the gazelle, it greatly filled with her tremendous frame when she spilled out from the end of the tunnel. The Sharklets proceeded to roll her towards the center of the room, a ginormous glass dome connecting up to the ceiling, with another door at its front like the one she previously squeezed through. Said door opened on its own with her forthcoming arrival, wincing pleasurably when the workers had to heave against her butt to get her inside. Upon this entry, Gazelle noticed purplish-red stains across the once-bright marbled floor, littered with drain-holes all over. While this transpired, Deem and Jax led the bodyguards to the side of the room, where a staircase paved the way to an observation room with a good view of the dome. They watched the pop star be shoved into the contained space - rolled until she was back resting atop her crotch - filling its majority. One of the Sharklets exited the room while the others waited inside, accessing a control panel right outside the dome, pressing a series of buttons and switches. The ceiling within the dome suddenly opened up, a giant ring made of metal being lowered towards Gazelle by a robotic arm. She struggled to look at the descending object, waiting a good moment until it moved past her limited periphery, feeling it squeeze against the circumference of her body and her bountiful breasts, groaning from the intense rise in pressure.

     The ring steadily dug into the celebrity’s juicy hide before stopping level to what would be considered her waist. All around, the Sharklets still inside climbed her using the remnants of her tracksuit until reaching the bottom of the ring, where they disengaged the robotic arm and secured the metal to what remained of her soaked waistband. Once Gazelle was locked into place, the other Sharklets vacated the dome, the one at the control panel raising the robotic arm back into the ceiling. Soon enough, they closed the door behind her, and with a few more button presses, the juicer was activated. From the sides of the floor, two industrial-sized car buffers with spongey bases connected to automated arms popped out like jack-in-the-boxes. They promptly whirred to life, their spinning ends slowly closing in on Gazelle, who despite the intense noise and welling pressure, maintained her relaxed composure brought on by the adoration of her new form, even as she was promptly juiced. Over a lengthy period of time, the buffers squeezed tightly into Gazelle, rotating around her colossal form. In a way, it felt like an unorthodox massage. While the rabbit, buffalo, and cheetah expressed varying levels of worry and doubts about the process, they were all proven wrong as juice began to pour out of Gazelle’s body. The glass walls and floor below were splattered by the colourful liquid, sinking down into the latter’s many drains. The sponges did not take long to be dyed a deep purplish-red, oozing with a fraction of the many gallons that left Gazelle.

     “I can’t believe it!” Judy uttered in awe, her hands pressed against the glass front wall of the observation room. “It’s really working.”

     As the pop star shrank down in size, the metal ring closed further in on her, ensuring that the buffers continued to effectively squeeze her dry. Gazelle rejoiced amidst all the noise and persistent pressure the regaining of her mobility and periphery, no matter that a part of her missed the exhilaration of being enormous and in need of transport.

 

…

 

     When the last trace of juice exited Gazelle, she awoke on the floor of the dome, her back tingling from the low-tide of residue once in her. The gum she chewed to oblivion had disappeared, stillness returning to her jaw. Groaning, her eyes slowly fluttered open, confusion and relief alike swirling through her senses. The metal ring once so tight around her had no grip upon her body anymore - still attached to the remains of her equally-sized tracksuit that sagged against the floor - the robotic arm coming back down and hovering right above it. She heard the door behind her open, a vast group of Sharklets entering the messy space. Many of them began wiping the inside of the glass with sizeable window-wipers, granting the Z.P.D. mammals and the pair of factory owners their view of inside lost a good while ago. They aimed their gazes upon the operations that now commenced. Not only did they see the sheer amount of juice still left inside, mopped up by more Sharklets and wrung directly into the drains, but two more came to the celebrity’s sides, gently grabbing her arms and helping her to her hooves, a towel in one of their hands. Here, she and the observers from the tour had the swift and awkward realization that the pop star was naked, her small chest and wide hips out in the open. But beyond that, the bizarre pigmentation of her fur remained, her eyes staring down and widening in that realization.

     “She’s still blue…!” The heavyweight cheetah loudly gasped, expecting to see her golden looks.

     “Why is she still blue?!” Bogo furiously asked the co-owners.

     “We can squeeze the juice out of her,” Deem succinctly explained, “but we cannot reverse her fur colour. We must apologize. There’s nothing we can do about that.”

     The three bodyguards were left to digest this troubling news as Gazelle was led out of the Juicing Room’s core, the towel wrapped around her, as more Sharklets entered and connected the metal ring back to the arm, before beginning the laborious process of taking and carrying her tracksuit bigger than a construction tarp, nothing but tattered ruins; money down the drain like all that juice. Gazelle was taken to a private little room beside the Juicing Room, presented a new outfit to dress her anew. It was an exact replica of the Sharklets’ uniform, complete with a set of high-heels. The pair of accompanying workers helped dress Gazelle, still trying to regain her senses after what she had been through. On one hand, she mourned the loss of her tracksuit, the perfect outfit left a mess. But on the other hand, she took a liking to how the uniform politely hugged her wide-hipped figure, they and the heels making her look like a leader of the Sharklets. The pop star promptly took a liking to this look. In her blue eyes, she thought of it like a souvenir.

     Once the tour group reunited, realizing just how much time had already passed during her juicing, Bogo thought best for the tour to end here. He was far from happy about returning the guarded gazelle to the world so greatly altered. The press would never leave them alone. Huffy and puffy, he led the way out of the Juicing Room, back down the tunnel and through the Inventing Room. Judy and Clawhauser followed after him, worried about their boss alongside the pop star, who leisurely walked behind them. Despite the harrowing-turned-enjoyable ordeal, she retained much of the curiosity that led her to the defective gum. Deem and Jax, walking behind the altered guest as a means of escort, watched as she occasionally strutted her stuff, heels clacking against the floor. Gazelle adored her new attire, the way it looked on her azure form. She hardly thought of the ramifications this tour would have on her life, her career, her position as Zootopia’s biggest face. Instead, she looked forward to decompressing from it, thinking of the pleasures derived from her time left full and helpless.

     GUURRRRRRRRGLLLLLLLL- GLOORRP!!!

     In the middle of the Inventing Room, where Gazelle had been rolled like the giant ball she was, her stomach suddenly grumbled in the same wet, noisy tone as when she first started to swell. She stopped in her tracks, the Z.P.D. officers and chief following suit a half-second later in synchronous realization. The three of them turned back to face Gazelle, letting out a soft gasp that walked the line between discomfort and enjoyment, recognizing the same feeling that she thought was far in the past. This was no mere déjà-vu.

     BURRRRRRBLLLURBLRRRRRRB…

     CRRRRRRRRRK…

     To the absolute dismay of Judy, Clawhauser, and especially Bogo, Gazelle began to expand again. She brought her hands onto her stomach, clutching it, feeling it blow back out alongside her hips and crotch, all three returning to their unified roundness. With the subtle squish of her fingers against it, she could hear and feel the inward sloshing of blueberry juice. Unlike before, when the swelling proved to be on the hastier side, the celebrity ballooned at a far slower rate, her body already a chubby caricature, her thighs and legs doubling in thickness. The latex suit creaked loudly against Gazelle’s body. It stretched to accommodate the gallons of liquid already inside her, hugging snug against her growing curves. Ample moans escaped from her, her hands patting along the wobbly flesh accentuated by her clothing. As this commenced, Deem and Jax walked up to the quartet, standing right behind and to the sides of Gazelle.

     “Oh, dear.” Jax uttered, eyeing Gazelle who gave him a confuzzled look. “It seems dessert isn’t quite finished with you yet.”

     “What are you talking about?” Judy asked with a mix of shock and anger. “You said the juicing would fix her!”

     “We did,” Deem answered, “but we never said anything about it being a permanent solution.”

     A wave of unease flowed through the bodyguards along with the filling gazelle.

     “So what’s happening to me now?” She worriedly asked the tour guides. “I’m not chewing that gum anymore.”

     “That is right, Ms. Gazelle.” The raccoon nodded his head. “But the truth of the matter is, and we only hypothesized this until seeing it right this moment, that the intensity of the gum’s blueberry flavour combined with you not being a Sharklet has left a rather… significant imprint on you. It’s not so black and white… in fact, it’s rather blue, but all that juice has most likely fused to your DNA. Even though you’ve been juiced and are no longer dining on those three courses, you are still a blueberry, no matter that you looked like your old self for a time. We believe you’ll never stop swelling with juice, no matter how many times you are squeezed.”

     “And since you are a blueberry now, genetically speaking,” the alligator added, clearing his throat, “the result of one of our products in-testing that we warned you not to taste, you are now, legally speaking, company property.”

     A brief silence other than Gazelle’s grumbly insides engulfed the space around her and the stunned bodyguards. During this, the celebrity’s breasts gradually doubled in size, straining hard against the latex containing them, eliciting another moan from her lips.

     “E- excuse me?” The pop star uttered in disbelief, hands pushing down on her cleavage. “I am Gazelle. I am a living, breathing mammal that has every right to leave this factory. I am not some item to be stored away!”

     “You are now.” Deem slyly told her. “It’s as written in the contract you signed at the start of the tour. Please present it to our guests, Mr. O’Gaytor.”

     “With pleasure, Mr. Evermore.”

     Jax fished out from a pocket within his coat a scroll wrapped in a thin red ribbon, its size perfectly normal to the eyes of all who saw it. But when he undid the ribbon, holding up the top of the paper with the tips of his claws, the scroll unravelled itself at a rate most tremendous! The quartet of a tour’s eyes followed the path that the gazelle’s contract travelled, rolling down the entire remaining length of the Inventing Room, taking well over several seconds to reach its end right past the open door they had first entered together. At its end, her signature could be discerned, inked in a bright red. The tour mammals looked back to their guides, the celebrity’s hips flaring out. Judy, Bogo, and Clawhauser were nearly speechless at this revelation, and they were not going to leave without the guest they were here to protect.

     “Y- you can’t do that!” Clawhauser blurted in outrage. “Everyone is going to know something’s wrong if she stays here.”

     “Gazelle has a tour coming up!” Judy firmly spoke. “So many mammals are waiting to see her. She must be allowed to leave.”

     Bogo took a fraction of a calmer approach. “What kind of a legal precedent lets you take captive someone who visits this place? Between that and the dangerous nature of your machine, there has to be some grounds to sue.”

     “But you can’t sue,” Jax told the buffalo, “or take her away. She signed the contract. All of her juice makes her company property.”

     As the Z.P.D. officers and their chief tried to argue their separate yet conjoined cases, Deem retrieved his walkie-talkie, activating and speaking quietly into it. He put it away as quickly as it had been brought out, going back to watching the three mammals argue over one another, the gazelle noticing that her backside started to grow, those two juicy cheeks and its crack accentuating against the back of her uniform. So distracted had the bodyguards become that they were all taken aback when a group of Sharklets marched out from the gaps of surrounding machines. While none of them seized the trio, they nevertheless stood imposingly in front of Gazelle, gesturing with their arms to walk away. Their firm glares and bulging muscles were quick to snuff out the fight in them; even Bogo. And as the chocolatiers watched alongside the pop star, the rabbit, cheetah, and buffalo were ushered out, their every step instantly followed by the Sharklets pushing them out.

     “She is Zootopia’s most famous face!” Judy looked back and yelled louder with the growing distance. “You can’t just lock her up in here!”

     “Don’t worry, Gazelle!” Clawhauser tried to stay calm. “We’ll come back for you. Your biggest fans will get you out of this place!”

     In no time flat, the three bodyguards were forced out of the Inventing Room, the hint of the boat they had rode here on visible through the other side of the door. Gazelle nervously gulped, fearing that she would never see them again. By now, her body looked immensely chubby, as though the juicer had not quite squeezed her dry.

     “We hope you enjoyed your visit today!” The raccoon shouted and waved at the bodyguards. “Please help yourself to some chocolate on your way out!”

     Deem Evermore and Jax O’Gaytor watched with satisfaction their escorted guests disappearing from view, breathing a sigh of relief when their protests could no longer be heard. From behind them and the swelling celebrity, another group of Sharklets approached, their postures and faces the opposite of those who ushered out the off-duty chief and officers, spotted by Gazelle when she waddled around to face them, her juicy assets sloshing.

     “What’s going to happen now?” She worriedly inquired, going back to clutching her overstuffed stomach. “I don’t want to be alone here.”

     “You won’t.” The raccoon assured her. “You must go with these Sharklets at once, Ms. Gazelle. They will escort you to your new room. It’s spacious for a blueberry as yourself.”

     “My new room?” She uttered back stilted, trying to process this news.

     “Correct.” Deem nodded. “Our first order of business as factory blueberry is a series of rigorous examinations. The exact colour of your fur. The rate and quantity of your juice. And most importantly, exactly how big you’ll end up. The Sharklets are rather eager to measure you as you grow, considering your distinctiveness as a specimen.”

     It took the gazelle a few seconds to process this too, particularly the workers’ anticipation of seeing her up-close. With that thought came the return of her adoration of being a berry.

     “But I’ll be juiced again after, right?” She asked as though it was expected of someone who still wanted to be a person.

     “If you wish, we shall certainly juice you, as many times as you’d like.” Jax answered this time. “Alternatively, so long as you’re not at risk of overflowing capacity, you can choose to stay as a fully-ripened fruit. The Sharklets will tend to your every need, and roll you wherever you need to go around the factory.”

     Gazelle blushed a bit at the prospect of having that choice. It made her think back to being rolled in the very spot she stood in, her mind tingling with the excitement of being rendered in that state for as long as she wanted.

     “You must leave now.” Deem firmly told her. “There should be another boat outside to take you and these Sharklets any second now.”

     Gazelle slowly nodded. “Very well. I will follow them.”

     “Perfect!” The raccoon exclaimed. “We’ll come and see you soon. Until then, swell travels!”

     Gazelle turned around. The Sharklets proceeded to walk up to her. Two of them each gently tugged on the warping latex against her widening hips, the pop star’s eyes darting from side to side seeing a hand grab each of hers, the other workers standing behind. Together, they escorted Gazelle through the path of the Inventing Room that her contract ran down, slowly rolled up by Jax’s sausage claws. As she was led away, heaving her hefty legs out with awkward grace, the swelling mammal gazed up at the metal door she had first walked through, a mirror of the other one she was rolled through. Like all that time ago, she marvelled at its enormous size. She still found it hard to believe that a frame like that could equal her own once fully expanded into a giant blueberry. Of all her thoughts bubbling akin to her belly, her own spherical circumference barely being capable of fitting through the door excited her to no end. Yet it was the examinations that were to come that proved to be hotter than all else imaginable… and in a place brimming with imagination, that was truly hard to top. The touch against her hips gave her a hint of what was to come, and she could hardly comprehend the fantastical means that would be used to examine her figure. Between the pleasure from these thoughts and that of her high-heels, Gazelle’s steps swayed clumsily out of the Inventing Room, supported by the Sharklets who held her hands, and who would do anything for their biggest blueberry by-far.