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0) Always have fun. Or else.

1) A main character, GAINING WEIGHT, must be 18 years or older. This character(s) may have sexual content, but if they do, please make sure the deviation is labled for mature content.

2) If a piece of work has sexual content, mark as such. For all we know, kids are readings this. Mark as mature contents.

3) If the character is, say, a human animal. And it's a boy. Gaining weight. Put it under "Male Weight Gain" or Inflation/Vore/Blueberry/Etc.

4) There is a folder SPECIFICALLY for holding visual aids. Use it.

5) Let's say you have to main characters: A boy and girl. What folder should it go in to? The one where whichever gender is gaining weight.

6) Anyone is free to join, but unless the Founder :iconfattyloverxl: FattyLoverXL invites you or approves of you joining it, being a co-founder or a Contributor is neigh impossible.

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Mature Content

Episode15: Green With Sumo Part 3 by bob-dude
Male Weight Gain

Mature Content

Blowing Up (WG, Fat Story) by DaddyGrandpa
Getting Back On Your Feet (WG Story) by DaddyGrandpa
Skyworld's Fitness Folly [SSBBW/SSBHM WG]FWOOSH! CLASH! KER-ZAP! Today’s training involved roaring flames and crackling thunder. The arena was littered with equipment which had been tossed around by Pit and his trusty Cherubot. “Take that! POW! And this! BLAM! With a side order of a knuckle sandwich!” Pit yelled as he struck the final blow! WHA-BAM! The dummy’s fragmented remains scattered across the stone floor. “Ha-ha! How do you like them–” FLARE! BA-BOOM! Fireballs zipped by, grazing Pit’s mech. The angel quickly turned his attention to the firestarter; a pink-haired woman cloaked in rose-colored garments. It was Leslie Allaway: Part-time mage, part-time kickboxer, and Pit’s friendly tutor. Along with her dress, she donned leather boots that had a Celtic pattern, complete with a witch’s hat that was crowned by a rose quartz. Under that hat was fluffy hair akin to a flame. With a mischievous chuckle, the girl then said: “Bullseye! So, when’s Palutena gonna realize that her little angel’s getting too big for his cage?” “L-Leslie! Careful with the Cherubot, you’re gonna scuff its armor…” Pit whined as he preened himself. “In a fight, getting’ scuffed’s the least of your worries! As captain of Palutena’s royal guard, you must overwhelm the enemy with technique!” Leslie clapped her hands, enshrouding them in a blaze. And with her flaming fists, Leslie struck the automaton, weaving between punches. CLANG! BIFF! Then, with a burning roundhouse kick, Leslie struck the robot’s back, paralyzing it from within. “See? Bigger dinnae always mean better!” Pit was awestruck. “Woah… Amazing!” But he quickly snapped out of his trance and pointed out: “But wait, what about Corrine? Not only is she the goddess of storms, but she’s the queen of Neo-Atlantis! Her muscles even put Mangus to shame!” Referring to the eight-foot-eight, beefy, well-endowed woman cutting up mannequins with her equally-huge broadsword. The woman has elegant, pearly-white hair. Atop her head lay an embroidered silver crown embroidered with an aquamarine as its crowning jewel. Corrine also had two baby-blue pearls embedded in her body; One in her forehead, while the other one was snuggled up between her ginormous breasts; Corrine’s most notable asset next to her Herculean strength. Those shoulder boulders were strapped in a royal, Greek dress beneath her armor. Corrine Seaver was the personification of a raging storm: Fierce and relentless. Leslie explained, “Behind that radge strength is a tactician, a woman who analyzes her foes before pounding ‘em into next week! Hell, it’s why I became her apprentice! If I can fully control the divine flames gifted upon myself, I’d finally be a worthy successor to my mum.” Pit cocked his head. “Isn’t your mom an archmage?” “Aye.” Leslie nodded, watching Corrine finish off her target with a thundering sword strike to the dummy’s chest. KER-KRACKLE! The arena trembled from her diving roar, nearly knocking over Palutena and Viridi; who were watching from the sidelines. Corrine sighed, rolling her shoulders after dropping her sword. “Palutena, darling, are these your strongest punching bags? No wonder Pit has to carry the entire Centurion army on his back…” She said, her smooth, upper-class voice contrasted with her Amazonian frame. Palutena flipped her hair and scoffed at Corrine’s comment. “Corrine, these are training grounds for my knights, not goddesses.” She explained. Viridi, the ever-so-impish goddess of nature, smirked and suggested, “Hey, lady! Why not test your strength on that cherubot? Pit would love to have ya!” Pit jolted back as his mech was still paralyzed, and now at the mercy of a muscle-bound goddess. “H-Hey, wait a minute! I don’t wanna be crushed like a soda can! Let’s just talk–” Corrine boomed, “Nonsense! After that warm-up, my muscles clamor for bloodlust! Apologies, master Pit…” Corrine’s cerulean eyes locked onto the poor angel. The goddess slammed her fists and braced herself before shouting, “But as queen, I smite my foes with utmost force!” The woman charged at Pit like a rhinoceros. THUM-THUM-THUM! SLAM! The Atlantean Queen crashed into the cherubot like semi-truck, knocking it and Pit over. But Corrine wasn’t done yet as she then grappled the mecha; her burly arms constricting like an anaconda. “Uncle! Uncle!” Pit cried out, frantically slapping the big, red button on the robot’s dashboard. After a minute or two, Corrine let up on her prey, giving Pit a cheeky grin. “Outclassed yet again, my dear boy! You’re fortunate that your lady spares no expense on her machinery.” She said, helping Pit out of the Cherubot. “Haha, yeah… Definitely didn’t fear turning into red paste on the pavement, no siree!” Pit nervously chuckled as he brushed off his tunic. Viridi guffawed. “Gahahaha! Nicely done, Corrine! Goes to show that a goddess and her human could exploit Palutena’s so-called juggernauts. My tech has no such weaknesses, as they’re manufactured with all-natural materials and they run on renewable energy!” Palutena groaned, waving off the shortstack. “Oh come now, Viridi. My Cherubots are top of the line! They’re just not meant to face raging wine aunts like Corrine!” “That woman drinks so much that even Dionysus would hurl. Doesn’t help that Corinne has her own vineyard. Her red wine’s got enough kick to knock anyone out.” Viridi shuddered. “It took several bottles of pain-killers for Phosphora and I to get over that hangover…” “Oh pish-posh!” Corrine exclaimed, strutting over to the peanut gallery; Leslie accompanying her. “I’ll have you know that my unique blend; Atlantean Delight, is made from red grapes nourished from my rainstorms. Which are mixed with honey and a myriad of spices to grant the wine its signature invigorating sweetness. To simply put it: My divine drink unleashes the warrior within all of us. But enough about my vineyard, what say you, Leslie?” The goddess smiled, patting Leslie’s shoulder. Leslie chimed in, “What Pit needs is to study up on his fighting techniques. Lad’s got the gumption, but without hitting the books, he simply lacks the discipline to fully wield his true potential. It’s why I come over and teach him how to read…” Pit then sauntered in, ever-so-chipper. “Hey guys! So, when are we going out for lunch?” Leslie smiled at the dorky lad and briefly reeled him in, shoulders touching. “Oh, I see! You’re talking about how strong I was! What can I say? My hunky bod is a certified lady killer!” Leslie giggled and tousled Pit’s brunette, scruffy hair. “Of course, ya bonnie lad! And before we kicked your arse, you and the Cherubot were in-sync! We gotta commend ya fer that!” Pit’s face turned cherry red; the boy flustered from the compliment. Retaining his composure, Pit effused, “My performance wouldn’t be possible without you and Corrine giving it your all! Leslie, you’ve got mad skills in fire magic, that’s impressive for a human like you!” Pit joyfully fluttered his wings, asking, “Though, I do wonder… Is there a magic spell that will turn me into an unstoppable Adonis? You know, like Hercules!” Leslie warmly smiled, placing a hand on Pit’s shoulder. Being a tall lass, she had to look down at the shrimpy angel. “There is no magic gateway to long-term fitness. Ya gotta work fer it, Pitty. But what you can do is this: Push your limits when you can. Do a few more reps during a workout, fly a few more miles for a sacred treasure… Ya know, things that boneheads call ‘overachieving’. Follow my advice and you’ll be soaring like an eagle!” Upon hearing Leslie’s encouraging words, Pit beamed with joy. He imagined having a frame like Magnus’, burly and chiseled, protecting Palutena from the Underworld Army. To think that he himself could achieve such heights filled him with determination. But just as his fantasy was getting spicy, Palutena swooped in like a hawk and pushed Leslie aside. “That won’t be necessary.” Palutena protested. How dare that rosy harlot try and put Pit on a mindset that would jeopardize his safety?! Pit put a finger on his chin, puzzled by her response. “But Lady Palutena, wouldn’t this be good for me? I could be even better at warding off the forces of evil!” “Leslie may be right, but you can do that without… Recklessly throwing yourself into danger.” “But you send me on precarious missions all the time! Does being thrown into a hurricane sound safe to you?! If I can survive being eaten by Hades, I can handle anything!” Pit insisted, giving his goddess a dorky grin. “Listen, just…!” Palutena sighed. “I don’t want you to end up becoming a barbarian. Pit, you know my teaching methods are second-to-none. Where would you be without my guidance?” The goddess laughed as the other ladies looked on, silently judging her. “Oh, you know I’m right, girls! As the goddess of light, I am highly regarded among the gods.” The nature goddess huffed and snapped back, “Oh, please. As if offerings from groveling humans are a mark of ranking. Look at Corrine, she’s a glorified human who only swindled her seat at the pantheon. Face it, anyone can become a god. But at least the former human is a one-woman-army! You just laze around in your fancy palace; having your Centurions slave away while Corrine actively rules her kingdom with an iron first. Not only that, but she gives back to the ocean and its ecosystems. So, in a way, she’s earned my respect.” Corrine smirked, puffing out her noble chest. “Oh, Miss Viridi, it is my duty to offer Poseidon my dearest gratitude for granting myself and Neo-Atlanteans another chance to prosper.” She proclaimed, exuding royalty. “Grr…” Palutena sneered. No way she was going to let little Miss Cactus and the haughty wino get the last laugh. She nabbed Pit by the hand and said, “We’re done here. Just you wait, I'll show you lot what the goddess of light can really do! C’mon, Pit!” Flabbergasted, the angel stammered, “Wait! Leslie was about to–” But Palutena dragged him off. The rest could only stand and watch, since it was obvious that; like her luxurious hair, Palutena was green with envy. Leslie stretched out her arms. “That training sesh was pure barry, don’tcha agree, Corrine? Though, I dinnae think that Palutena would get all huffy.” “Oh, it’s not you, Leslie. Palutena always gets like this when she gets called out.” Viridi commented. “Mama bird’s just all high-and-mighty. But unlike Palutena and her winged garbage disposal, I keep my figure petite and trim thanks to my plant-based diet! You two should try going meatless, you’ll be doing your souls a favor. Especially you, Corrine. Humans slaughter countless lives to satiate their carnal desires. Wouldn’t it be great to forgo animal products like a real goddess?” Leslie cringed. “Och! And be a hippie like you?! Yer heid’s full o’ mince!” With a flick of her wrist came an ember. “I can flambe any filet to my liking! In fact, my family gives my tidy scran the Allaway seal a’ approval!” Corrine laughed at the puny goddess. “Ohohoho! And what? Not take advantage of my kingdom’s rich resources?! How else could I maintain my wonderfully crafted bulk?” She then struck a pose. “Surely, you’ve gone mad, Viridi.” “It’s literally in our biology to–” Viridi scoffed, pushing away Leslie’s comment. “Tch. I will never understand why humans cling onto barbaric methods of sustenance. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a garden to attend to…” The nature goddess sashayed past the dynamic duo, without a second glance… Leslie pinched her forehead. “Man, the denizens of Skyworld always have a stick up their arse, don’t they?” Corrine sighed. “It is ruffians like her why I became a goddess. They deserve the sharp sting of humility.” The mage softly smiled at her Amazonian partner. “Ever the iron maiden, eh, Corrine? I wouldn’t have it any other way. Well, now, shall we get going? I got a pile of spell books to catch up on. The rose garden could use some fixing up, too…” “I wish the best for your studies, dearie. I have to attend to my typical duties: Honing my strength, managing my vineyard… And paperwork over afternoon tea. For Atlantean Parliament, no tea parties mean no kingdom.” Corrine sighed, crossing her arms. “However, I could whip up something for pretty Palutena.~” Corrine cooed. The next day, our plucky angel and his divine caretaker had taken upon themselves to face their fiercest trial yet: The marbled gates of the Sisyphus Gymnasium. At the edges of the entrance lay a pair of stone statues; their Herculean figures looming over the divine duo with their pale, chiseled faces looking down upon those who dared enter their sacred realm. Pit and Palutena had switched their godly robes for practical, athletic wear. Despite their preparations, the very sheen of the marbled man’s mountainous pecs had Pit trembling as he whimpered: “A-Are you sure we can’t go on a light jog, Lady Palutena? It’s not like we need a gym membership… And Leslie’s already agreed to–” “Pit, as your goddess, I know what’s best. Think about it, if you were to train with Leslie, you’d be swamped with books! Corrine? You’ll end up in a hospital cast! If you want to go toe-to-toe with her, you need big muscles! C’mon, it’ll be fun! After this, we can even go out for burgers!” The goddess tousled the angel’s scruffy hair. “Whaddya say?” Pit was hesitant. While it was true that Corrine and Leslie were leagues ahead of him, they at least understood his plight. However, a protein-packed post-workout meal was enticing… The boy finally looked into Palutena’s eyes and gave a trustful nod. “Let’s get ripped!” The brave souls marched through the sliding doorway, only to be met with the sight of an athlete’s wet dream: In one corner were hordes of hulking bodybuilders at the weight racks; camaraderie and competition lay thick as each man sought out the sickest iron pump. The other side of the gym housed the more casual olympians, with the typical affair such as treadmills, yoga mats, and exercise balls. Pit let out a whistle, “This gym’s got it all! We oughtta warm up on the treadmills.” The angel said as he and Palutena went to do cardio. When they laid down their gym bags on the mats, an electric valley girl called out: “Yoo-hoo! Pitty-Pat!~” It was the living lightning bolt, Phosphora. “My, what a surprise! I just finished up my miles when I spotted you guys. What brings a cutie like you here?” She inquired as she ogled Pit, his shapely, sacred buns looking tight in those gym shorts. The angel blushed at Phosphora’s flirting. “W-Well, Palutena and I want to get stronger!”Phosphora smirked, “Oh? Pretty Palutena’s finally making good on those new year’s resolutions, I see! With all those feasts dedicated to her, I’m surprised the hag hasn’t ballooned already!” She teased. Palutena pursed her lips and sighed, brushing off Phosphora’s comment. As the goddess of light, she is above schoolyard insults… Or at least she thought. “If you must know… As Pit’s guardian, I’m toughening him up so he can better face the Underworld!” The high-voltage blonde raised an eyebrow at that statement, her glare piercing Palutena’s facade. “Don’t give me that look! I was a warrior back in the day and–” “Ooh! ‘Back in the day’, huh? I’m glad you’re staying hip, grandma.” Phosphora giggled. “But since you went through the trouble of coming here, I suppose I can show you the ropes.” She reassured, hands behind her back as she winked at Pit. The boy was tantalized by her sweaty, toned midriff, much thanks to her cerulean sports bra and electric blue shorts. Phosphora sighed, wiping her forehead before taking a long, refreshing swing from her drink. She turned her attention back to the swooning angel. “Well, someone’s admiring the view.” She cooed, much to Palutena’s chagrin. “Hey now! What’s with all the commotion?” Exclaimed a beefy, grizzled man as a pair of beefcakes approached the triad. T’was Magnus, the Herculean mercenary. Accompanying him was the plucky half-human, half-dragon Hikari Kiryu. “Hikari n’ I were doing bench-presses when we noticed a glimpse of Angel Face. What’s the occasion?” “O-Oh! Magnus, hey! Figures you’d be here, pumping iron with Hikari! Have you guys seen Corrine around here?” Pit wondered, the angel looking more like a mere sparrow before the muscled men. “Nope. Your royal highness has her own exercise hall back at her palace. That woman’s got power beyond any human, so she needs a home gym.” Magnus explained. “Anyways, Hikari was around town, so we decided to train together. I gotta say, the lad’s got a knack for one-handed push-ups!” Hikari chuckled, “Well, you’re the one who’s got me beat in the deadlifting department!” He crossed his burly arms and gave Magnus a toothy smirk. “This morning, I came to Skyworld to visit a pastry chef. So, after she and I exchanged secrets over tea and biscuits, here I am! … Say, how did yesterday’s training go?” “With Corrine and Leslie, I’m thankfully in one piece!” Pit jested, nervously rubbing his arm. “And because Pit did so well, I took responsibility to help him get even stronger! It’s crucial for my bodyguard to be in tip-top shape!” Palutena explained. “Riiiight. And you’re totally not here your bathroom scale told you off after your last Pizza Friday. All that cheese and grease ain’t good for the complexion, my dear…~” Phosphora teased. “Oh hush up, Phosphora! Do not underestimate the divine taste of Big Caesar’s stuffed crust–Ahem! I mean, there’s not harm in wanting to tone up!” The foodie maintained her composure. Phosphora snickered. “Oops. Did I strike a nerve? But since you asked, I’ll take you under my wing. Don’t expect me to go easy on you, though.” As Palutena and Phosphora chatted, Hikari pulled Pit close. “While we’re at it, Magnus and I are going to teach this lil’ squirt to bulk up! Mark my words: He’ll be a Greek god by the end of the night!” Magnus smiled. “Heh. C’mon, Angel Face. Your training begins now!” Pit stammered as he was taken in by his muscle-bound companions. “W-Wait! I haven’t had my pre-workout snack yet!” But before he knew it, the cherub was whisked away to the valley of dumbbells… “Just don’t strain yourself, okay, Pit?!” Palutena exclaimed, fretting for her darling boy who was now under the watchful eyes of two tank-topped meatheads. “What you doing? There’s no time to bum around, let’s go!” Phosphora insisted, dragging Palutena onto the treadmill. “If you want to look trim, cardio’s your best friend. C’mon now, don’t be shy. Show that flab who’s boss!” “Oh geez…” Palutena gulped, her fingers twiddling as they hovered over the machine’s dashboard. “...Where’s the setting for ‘newbie’?” Phosphora let out a haughty laugh. “Ah, Palutena, you crack me up. Here, let me just–” Beep! The track began moving under the goddess, and not even a minute in, Palutena began sweating bullets; her breathing struggling to maintain an even pace. The goddess of light was so used to levitating and teleporting, and spent the majority of her time in her bedroom as she left the heavy lifting to Pit and the Centurions. The treadmill was the start of the cardiac onslaught as Palutena also had to endure jumping jacks, burpees, and the dreaded plank! While she and Phosphora skipped rope, Little Miss Cactus decided to drop by. “Well then, look who finally decided to care about her figure!” Viridi taunted before taking a long sip of her smoothie. “You should go on an all-fruit diet. These antioxidants will cleanse your system. Trust me, knowing produce is my forte.” Palutena scowled at Viridi. The goddesses never saw eye-to-eye, with Viridi’s environmentalist ideals conflicting with Palutena’s desire to protect humanity. It was bad enough that Viridi meddled in Pit’s missions, but when it comes to wellness, she was the princess of health nuts. “Huff… Puff… Is that why I never see you in yoga pants, little miss perfect?” Palutena sarcastically replied. Viridi scoffed. “Hmph. I can say the same about you, goddess of foodies! Gardening’s all the exercise I ever need! Siiiiip… So, where’s your little errand boy?” “Pit went off to do some weightlifting, so Hikari and Magnus are tutoring him. Are you curious to see your boyfriend’s muscles in action?” Viridi’s face flushed cherry red at Palutena’s comment. “First of all, he’s not my boyfriend! Secondly, I not surprised that those two doofuses are involved. At least Pit would finally make good use of his big appetite. If he keeps a steady regimen, he’d be the next Hercules…” Back at the weights area, our three caballeros gathered around a workbench. Hikari and Magnus stood over Pit, whose twinkish body made him a minnow among the sea of sharks. The soundscape of metallic clangs and primal grunts intensified the angel’s anxiety. Pit looked to his spotters and said, “Are you sure about this? I-I mean, what if a lughead comes over and asks for my lunch money?” “That only happens in movies.” Magnus sighed. “Besides, building muscle is all about slow and steady progress.” “It’s not just about exercise, my good man. A raging wildfire isn’t without its fuel!” Hikari chimed in. “A healthy appetite’s a cornerstone to a strong bod! But don’t go thinkin’ that Hercules got strong from a diet of ice cream and cake. Think more like chicken and vegetables, with a side of air-fried potato wedges! A perfect trifecta of macros!” The thought of vegetables made Pit’s stomach churn; especially given his past experiences with the Eggplant Wizard. But chicken and potato wedges did sound half-decent… But before the winged foodie daydreamed further, Magnus handed him a 20-pound dumbbell. “Every legend’s gotta start somewhere. Here, see if you can pull off a set. Ten bicep curls should suffice.” Magnus said. “C-Curls?” Pit sputtered. His fingers wrapped around the rubber handle, and upon starting, his forearm began to shake, barely deviating from its 90-degree angle as the dumbbell seemingly had a chokehold on the poor lad. Upon witnessing Pit’s struggle, Magnus and Hikari looked at each other. Hikari took pity on poor Pitty while his partner scowled upon the angel, snarling: “What the hell am I looking at!? I’ve seen you swing my club like a baseball bat. Are you saying that you can’t even lift a measly twenty pounds?!” “W-Well…” Pit sputtered, startled by Magnus’ crude remark. “My weapon of choice is my trusty bow-and-arrow! I prefer to pack light when soaring through the skies. If not a bow, then blades and orbitars are my go-to!” Magnus sighed. “While I do respect a man who covers his bases, you rely too much on magic. If you wanna get the job done, you need to get your hands dirty. How do you think I got these pythons?” “T-Through being a mercenary?” “Well, yeah. But my muscles are a testament to my devotion: Proof that I can kick ass and take names. I can even punch a hole in the stone wall behind me, if I wanted to.” Magnus smirked. Hikari pondered the fledgling angel. Now, how can we boost his workout? He thought to himself. Krzt! A literal spark of inspiration coursed through his fingers! Hikari then took aim… Zzzt! All of the sudden, Pit was curling the dumbbell like it was a feather. “Figured your muscles could use a jumpstart!” Hikari said with a wink. Pit was shocked at his newfound power. “G-Gee, thanks, Hikari! Maybe soon, I won’t need a Cherubot to fight giant monsters!” He chirped. Magnus groaned at Hikari’s stunt. “You’d get the same results from an energy drink… Regardless, you’ll be thanking us when you’re the talk of the town. In my neck of the woods, all people ever talk about is your little green goddess. But it’ll be your time to shine, Angel Face.” “Awright! Let’s pump it ‘til the cows come home!” With a new flame burning inside him, Pit trained his muscles throughout the night. After his warm-ups, he tried his hand at bench presses, and even the dreaded deadlift! Pit and Palutena, giving it their all for that summer body, found their new lease on life! But evening soon came… WHUMP! The Palace of Light’s doors gave way to an exasperated Pit and Palutena as they dragged themselves across the vast halls, muscle soreness having smothered their enthusiasm. The goddess and her companion eventually reached the kitchen, which was always stocked with divine delectables. Pit’s wings fluttered with jubilation. “Oh, praise be to the food gods! Just when I thought my stomach was about to digest itself…” He weakly chirped, hobbling over to the marble island. “Like an oasis in a desert!” Palutena smiled as she opened the fridge, pulling out a box of leftover pizza; Big Caesar’s to be exact. While the goddess heated up the pie in a microwave, Pit noticed a peculiar bag of cookies on the countertop. The angel held up the pastries. “Hey Lady Palutena, check this out! It looks like a gift.” Pit squinted his eyes at the letter. “It’s from… Co… Cor… Darn it, I can’t make this out!” The lad was never the literary type. Palutena giggled, taking the bag. “Allow me! … Oh, it’s from Corrine! …How did she even get in here? Ah well, let’s see…” She read aloud: “Salutations! I received word from a little birdie that you and Pit toiled at the gymnasium today. Therefore, as a token of gratitude, I whipped up a batch of wine biscuits. Thanks to my top percentage reds, these biscuits will embrace your tastebuds with their tantalizing tartness and sugar coating. It’s enough to sweeten any evening! Keep up the hard work, Lady Palutena. May we spar again soon. - Corrine XOXO” The note was stamped with an azure kiss mark. Palutena couldn’t help but blush at the kind gesture. Hearing Corrine’s delicious description made Pit’s stomach rumble with anticipation. “Oh man! I gotta dig in!” But Palutena wagged her finger, saying: “We may have dessert taken care of, but you still gotta eat your dinner, Pit. Lucky for us. pizza’s the perfect post-workout meal. You got the protein from the cheese and pepperoni, carbs from the crust, and the sauce is basically a vegetable spread!” Pit was fascinated by Palutena’s genius. “You always said that we need to eat all the colors of the rainbow. A slice of pizza is like one serving of veggies, right?” “I knew you’d get it, Pit! C’mon, let’s head to the living room and catch the latest episode of ‘Binging with Dionysus’. Tonight’s supposed to be the one where he makes a triple meat-lover’s sandwich, with a side of barbeque spare ribs!” The angel licked his lips. “You don’t have to tell me twice! Let’s go!” With pizza, wine biscuits, and soda in-hand, Pit and Palutena went to have their TV Dinner. The television flickered whilst Dionysus prepared his featured dish, using his grill to sear the breaded chicken breasts, beef and sausage patties, and you can’t forget the bacon! When the moment came, he piled the meat on buttered, toasted brioche buns before drizzling thick, tangy Worcestershire sauce. After laying the top bun, Dionysus took a hearty, juicy bite out of the sandwich. The sauce and grease dripped onto his fingers, bits of bacon falling off as the camera closed in on the meat’s firm, supple texture. The savory symphony was enough to send goosebumps through the audience. “Now that’s a power meal! Betcha that'll make me beefier, eh Lady Palutena?” Pit wondered as he nibbled away at his pizza. “I’ll say! I wish it were that easy…” Palutena sighed, chugging down her glass of soda. She laid back and let out a hearty belch before continuing, “Oof. My muscles feel like a rock. Do you always get this sore after your missions?” “... Sometimes. And hey, wait, you’re a goddess! Can’t you snap your fingers and beef me up to Corrine’s level?” “Even as a goddess of light, I have my limitations.” The goddess groaned, swinging her sore legs onto the coffee table. Her eyes shifted towards her goblet, lazily swishing her drink as she pondered. She swirled the soda around and around, forming a miniature whirlpool until–DING! Dionysus’ oven caught her attention. She watched as the decadent chef poured himself a glass of wine, labeled ‘Dionysus’ Party Potion’. “...Potion… Potion…” Palutena muttered to herself. She looked back to her goblet. Her gears began to turn… “Eureka!” She exclaimed, starting Pit with her stroke of genius. “I’ll make a potion that’ll make us into true Olympians!” “W-What do you mean, Lady Palutena?” Pit sputtered. “You know how you need to work your body in order to get stronger, right? Well, what if we speed up the that process? Imagine, Pit, we’ll have energy and strength beyond our wildest dreams!” “W-Wow! You mean we can outmatch Hercules just from one sip?” “Hercules! That’s it! I’ll call my concoction: Hercules Juice! Though, I hope the Centurions don’t mind if I use some of their leftover whey… Perhaps a bit of creatine, as well! Oh, and I can’t forget about the pre-workout, and a lemon for taste…” Lady Palutena muttered as with each snap of her fingers, she gathered the ingredients and set them on the table. Using telekinesis, she mixed everything in a jug of water. Shake-shake-shake! “And finally, a dash of love!” She blessed the potion with her divine light, making the jug fizz and jitter. At last, she had poured the potion into their empty goblets. The liquid had a raspberry tinge and a citrusy aroma. Palutena raised her cup. “Bottom’s up, Pit!” Pit was admittedly had second thoughts. Never before had he seen such a concoction. A potion that could boost strength? Pit thought. That must be why those dudes at the gym were chatting about their ‘protein shakes’. It must be the secret to their power! The angel’s eyes widened in realization. “Man, you’re a genius, Lady Palutena!” Palutena chuckled at Pit’s sudden compliment. “Well, mother knows best, as they say! Stick with me, and together we will become the strongest in all of Skyworld! Soon, Leslie and Corrine will look like twigs!” “Aw yeah! Hulk City, here we come!” Palutena and Pit tapped their cups and downed their drinks. From tonight onward, the lady and her knight were bound to become Skyworld’s power couple. Their muscle soreness dissipated the following morning as Pit and Palutena marched to the gym with their newfound resolve. The angel scampered to the weights area and decided to warm up on the cable machine. For the thrill of it, he set the peg to ‘200 Pounds’ and lo-and-behold: It was like Pit was pulling up a pillow! “Holy Cannoli!” Pit exclaimed, simultaneously dumbfounded and exhilarated as he chugged along like a steam engine. “Are you seeing this, Lady Palutena?!” “Crystal clear, my little hunk!” Palutena chirped. The goddess of light had been enjoying herself on a set of gymnastic rings, stretching out her slender legs before performing various flips and kicks. Before, Palutena was a complete couch potato of a goddess, but thanks to her ingenious potion, the gymnast was putting on a show for her fellow gym goers. Coincidentally, Dark Pit was laying back on the benches, sipping his blackberry smoothie as he observed Pit and his goddess. Upon tasting the drink, he commented, “Huh, I didn’t know Pit had it in him.” Siiiiip. Palutena’s fitness regimen continued throughout the week. Her and Pit’s bodies chiseled and grew with each rep: Tummies were toned, thighs were slimmed, buns tightened, and chests filled out as the two were sculpted into the likes of Venus and Adonis. However, one day, a bountiful-chested Amazonian and her rosy, hot-blooded friend decided to drop by during a workout session… “Well, if it ain’t Pitty and his verdant lass!” Leslie chuckled, rubbing her chin as she inspected the living statues. Gone was Pit’s subtle chub, making way for a chiseled midsection which was held up by lean, valiant legs. And those pecs, Leslie could practically sleep on those juicy beef slabs! “And my, my! My fledgling has grown into a mighty eagle!” She chirped. Corrine gave Palutena a cheeky smirk, ogling at her toned-up bod. “I say, you took our training advice to heart! Of course, your success can be attributed to my wine biscuits.” But then, her boastful attitude came to a halt as she noticed an enigmatic bottle poking out of Palutena’s gym bag. Corrine’s glacier-blue eyes peered to the item before glancing back at the green goddess. “Although, I find this all rather peculiar… I never took you as a lady who’d loiter around in such a gaudy gym.” She sneered, observing the tacky motivational posters which conflict with the traditional architecture. Palutena, in the midst of doing yoga, jolted to face Corrine and said, “O-Oh, you know--They had promotion where if you bring a partner, you sign up for free! Say, those wine biscuits sure do pack a punch! Any chance you could hit me up with another batch? I’ll even let you be my tall, white, and gorgeous fitness coach!” She pleaded, fluffing up Corrine’s ego in hopes she doesn’t catch on. Corrine curbed her suspicious to play along with Palutena. Putting her doubts aside, even she has to admire the grace and beauty of her compatriot’s newfound flexibility. The graceful goddess of light resumed her yoga session, bending over and accentuating her rounded, yet firm glutes. Excitement washed over the Atlantean queen as she imagined herself and Palutena in the royal bedroom, pinning Palutena down to the sheets with her sheer might! Afterwards, she would lovingly embrace the goddess of light into her bountiful bosom. Of course, this all comes after a moonlit dinner date. Once she snapped out of her daydream, she found Palutena resting on the mats. Corrine then decreed, “Very well. I’ll take you up on that offer… Once you pass my examination!” Palutena nearly spat out her drink. “E-Examination?! Are you challenging me to a strength contest?!” “It’s not a contest, per-say. More to see if you live up to my qualifications. In fact, why not have Pit tag along? I’m certain that the captain of the guard would appreciate attaining the strength and training of an Atlantean soldier.” Corrine added, beckoning the spry angel. “M-Me?!” Pit sputtered before Leslie pulled him out of his workout bench. “I-I’m not even sure if I meet the—” “O’ course ya do, lad!” Leslie barked, further goading the angel by smacking his tight, sacred butt. Pit yelped and lunged forward, now having a singed handprint on his gym shorts. At long last, he had finally received affection from a girl that wasn’t his own goddess. Guilt began to gnaw at the little angel’s conscience, realizing that his Adonis figure was merely the result of doping: Quick fixes for short-term gain. Pit vigorously shook his head; he mustn’t reveal his secret! “W-Well, I don’t see why not…” Pit rubbed the back of his head. “If I receive your certifications, I’ll get more respect among the Centurions. For how loyal they are, I still get called ‘pipsqueak’ in the locker rooms…” Leslie tousled Pit’s scruff and said, “Then it’s time to prove ‘em wrong! In fact, I’ll take you to an immaculate grove, and we can have a picnic together!” “A p-picnic?!” Pit couldn’t back down, now. But before he could get ahead of himself, Palutena grabbed him by the arm. “Eheh. Could you excuse us for a moment? Pit and I need to powder our noses!” Palutena excused herself from Corrine and Leslie, but not before she took the strange bottle and dragged Pit with her to a private, unisex restroom. “Hey, what’s the big idea?!” Pit protested. “You always drag me off whenever I talk to Leslie, and frankly—” Palutena pressed a finger against his lips. Palutena hushed her little angel. “Up-bup-bup! Take a swig of this.” She held up the mysterious liquid, its vessel studded with shimmering gemstones. Pit squinted at the bottle as Palutena popped off the cork. The goddess eagerly guzzled half the container before handing the rest to the boy. Curious, Pit looked down the bottle and sniffed its contents. “… Huh. Smells like ripe grapes with a hint of ice cream… What even is this stuff?” Palutena wiped her lips, softly belching before explaining, “It’s my greatest creation, yet! A potion that packs years of dieting and exercise into one bottle: It’s not just a juice, anymore, it’s the ultimate ‘Hercules Ambrosia’! Go on, give it a go!” Pit was hesitant towards the ambrosia, but its decadent aroma quickly enraptured him and he drank his fill. “So, by ‘Ambrosia’… Ourp… What exactly did you mean?” Pit asked, flexing his burly bicep. Palutena warmly smiled, taking back the empty vessel, gently clasping it. “You know how my previous mixtures only accelerated the muscle-building and fat-loss process, right? Well, this baby will make us grow after every set! Which means you can potentially out-muscle Corrine in just a few minutes. After you dethrone the queen of thunder, you’ll go down in history as my strongest soldier!” Pit was stunned by what he heard. Growing to the size of Hercules within one set? A Cherubot might as well be scrap metal if Pit manages to beat Corrine in physical combat! Monsters would tremble before him, while ladies will be throwing themselves at the winged hunk. Perhaps Palutena was looking out for his best interests… “G-Gosh! When you put it like that…” Palutena dorkily laughed. “Now let’s knock those ladies down a peg! As I, Lady Palutena as your witness—” “—It’s time for them to face the light! Let’s do this!” Pit cheered. He could already feel a newfound power course through him as he busted down the door and scampered back towards his challengers. “Corrine! Leslie! We’re ready to rumble!” Corrine, amused by the angel’s enthusiasm, gave him and Palutena a wry smile. “Oh-ho-ho! If this weren’t an exam, I’d think you wanted to scrap with yours truly! Perish the thought, dear boy. For we shall hold the contest in a more… Refined arena. Come along now, your destiny awaits!” All of a sudden, a familiar, blue-haired man stepped into the picture. “Yo, what’s up, party people?” Hikari greeted. “Man, you really beefed up, Pit! Guess my lightning’s effect was more potent that I thought, haha! Anywho, I overheard the commotion and I wanna be the referee! Hope that’s not too much trouble, your highness.” Corrine grinned and replied, “Figures that a strapping and strong chap like yourself would appear. Now…” Corrine took a deep breath, the baby-blue pearls on her forehead and chest began glowing as the queen honed in her psychic energy… VWOOOSH! Everybody found themselves at a stadium, complete with its own running track. Corrine looked towards the spacious field and before turning her attention to Leslie, “Would you be a dear and bring the barbells? Can’t be a fitness exam without something to lift.” “Aye, as you wish!” Leslie replied. Magic coursed through her fingers, and with a flick of a hand, the mage manifested various of barbells whilst Lady Palutena and Pit took in their new surroundings. Pit then asked: “Wait, this is the exam?! I thought you were going to have us mow through an army of monsters; or climb a mountain in the middle of a typhoon! Barbells? Track & field?! Sorry, but have you seen these guns!?” Pit gloated, flexing his muscles in a side chest pose. Corrine let out a haughty laugh. “Oh-ho! This is your thirteenth labor, Hercules! Allow me to elaborate: An Atlantean soldier is adept in all aspects of combat. Endurance, strength, intellect… It appears that you have an affinity for the dumbbell, which is why I’ll have you scamper along the track whilst pretty Palutena gets examined for raw strength.” Palutena sputtered at the notion. “S-Strength training?! But I barely—I-I mean, bring it on! I’m a goddess, I can take on anything you throw at me!” “Hmph. Very well. Leslie! Take the young sparrow to the track!” Corrine commanded as she made preparations for the verdant cardio bunny. While Leslie took Pit, Palutena walked up to the barbell marked ‘200’ and got into position; bending over and grasping the cold, metal bar. Palutena took a deep breath, bracing herself as she began the set. “Hrrng…” The goddess pulled the barbell towards her chest… She felt a surge of energy rush through her muscles! She lifted once more, finding herself performing rep after rep. Palutena couldn’t help but laugh at the situation! The ambrosia was a resounding success! She thought to herself. I feel like I can take on the Underworld! Look out Skyworld, here comes the Goddess of Li—GrUmBl! Her stomach interrupted her train of thought. But Palutena shrugged it off, figuring that her body had used up the heaping helping of pancakes and sausage she had for breakfast. Pit sprinted along the track like an ostrich. His heart was a steam engine, powering his strong, galloping legs. “Wooo-hooo!” Pit hollered before stopping to chat with his Scottish spectator. “Hey Les, how’s this for endurance? Bet I can out-speed Hermes with this kinda horsepower!” He gloated whilst jogging in-place. Leslie was holding onto her hat from the gale trailing behind the angel. She looked at her stopwatch and said, “Och! You’ve just ran ten miles, and it hasn’t even been five minutes! I’d say yer a real dynamo!” She exclaimed. “Heh, I’ll take that as an A-plus-plus! Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a race to—GrRoUrGpl! HOOURP!” Pit covered his mouth, his face a deep cherry-red from the gastric outburst. Right in front of a girl, no less! “O-Oh gosh, I swear I’m not usually like this!” He sputtered, puffing out his chest in an attempt to save face. “Eheh, you still like me, right?” Leslie giggled. “Must be that power meal ya had earlier, huh? Lords know Anodises like you stockpile energy like no tomorrow!” She teased, ogling Pit’s hard, glistening muscles. “But at least yer burning it off!” “R-Right! So… When this is all over, do you want to grab a cup of cocoa or something?” Pit, you bonehead! A girl’s not gonna drink hot cocoa; not in this weather! “O-Or I can take you out to—” “Throw in some scones, and it’s a date, laddie.” Leslie said with a warm smile. Even with Pit’s sudden bulk-up, she was elated to see the boy’s dorky demeanor unchanged. “Now go on and win that gold medal!” “Roger that, Ms. Allaway~!” Pit trilled, launching himself down the track, fluttering Leslie’s garments. Meanwhile, Lady Palutena was doing a series of squats. Despite the burning feeling in her thighs, she persisted. Her pride was at stake. Should she forfeit now, she would only be affirming Corrine’s beliefs on Skyworld’s pantheon. I don’t just lay around the temple! I’ll show that pompous noble what for! She thought to herself, gritting her teeth as she pushed herself for several more reps. Her soreness began to fade… GlOrPl! All of a sudden, her tight glutes and shapely thighs softened up as her yoga pants began to fill with lard. Whuff! I feel like something’s pulling me down… Did someone dial up the thermostat? Darn it, I better switch up my routine. Surely, it’s just my imagination! Palutena tried to ignore her thickened thighs by doing jumping jacks, her squishy lower half undulating as the swelling ascended to her midsection, forming a doughy muffin top! Soon, her breasts bloated out, followed by her arms which shook vigorously at each rep. This newfound weight forced Palutena to take a breather, wheezing and panting as sweat poured down her softened face. Corrine was astounded by Palutena’s growth spurt. The once slim and spry goddess had ballooned into a pathetic lard bag. Corrine snickered under her breath; her suspicions gaining further traction. For now, though, the empress played into Palutena’s delusions and offered her a pair of ten-pound dumbbells. “I must say, your athleticism has impressed even the likes of myself. There’s one last thing left to do: Curl these dumbbells.” Lady Palutena huffed and gazed upon the dumbbells. “You’re… huff… Serious? Only ten pounds?” The befuddled goddess took the offering and smirked at Corrine, which only accentuated her puffy cheeks. “How many curls, coach? I bet I can do a hundred o’ these!” “Until I tell you to stop. No more. No less.” “H-Heh! This’ll be a cinch! Just watch me!” Palutena boasted as she started her new workout. And like clockwork, each rep brought in extra pounds. With each pump of her bicep filling the goddess’ curves with useless blubber. Her ample arms swelled into full-on bingo wings, her bountiful chest bloomed like prized watermelons, her pudge billowed into a doughy double belly, her rear became the bane of double-doorways supported by tubby tree trunk legs! Palutena felt sluggish from the extra weight, her double-chinned face red as a tomato as she continued to strain herself. Why am I getting heavier? The ambrosia is supposed to—No! This is all just a bad dream, y-yeah! I can still go for another round or two, which means I’d perfected the ambrosia! See, Corrine!? Under this fat is an Amazonian ready to rumble! “I can’t… Wheeze…Urrrrp! You said you wanted a warrior, r-right? Puff…” “I see a goddess who’s fit to be a military commander!” Corrine teased, relishing in the sight of the porky goddess. “You’re making good pace, love! Keep this up and I’ll treat you to a bowl of my famous syllabub. Imagine yourself indulging in dozens of plump, ripe berries resting on dallops of rich custard, accompanied by an assortment of warm, fresh biscuits. Doesn’t that sound like paradise, dearie?” The promise of such a decadent dessert sent Palutena’s food-addled brain into overdrive, sparking her to continue lifting; despite her widening waistline… On the track, our plucky angel faced a similar corpulent conundrum. Thud! Thud! THUD! Flabby feet shattered the ground, leaving a trail of craters as Pit plodded along. His thighs had billowed into tubby pillars, his sacred buns morphed into a gelatinous thundercloud as his cheeks swayed with bellowing claps. His thighs crashed against his triple-rolled gut as the boy swung his couch-cushion arms. The once brilliant white toga became a sweat rag, spanning Pit’s bountiful chest. The angel’s lean, luxurious face had blown up into a pair of grape-fruit-sized cheeks with a set of jiggling jowls. And what is an angel without his wings? Wings which are half-buried by a pile of damp, hefty back fat! “Heh, not like you were using those wings, anyway!” Leslie jested. As she watched Pit, her intuition kicked in. “I dinnae about ‘tena, but Pit must’ve broken some magical contract. That could explain his rapid progress…” Leslie murmured to herself. She looked over yonder only to see the green goddess and her lard pooling over the courtyard. Leslie smirked, turning her attention back to her blubbery crush. Earlier, she noticed a juice stain on Pit’s lips… And it was merely a week ago that Pit got his butt handed to him… The pieces were coming together. “Eureka!” Leslie exclaimed. Her magenta-colored eyes looked over to the winged, thumping sack of lard. She then cheered, “Wowza! You’re givin’ Phosphora a run for her money! Go any faster and you’ll break the sound barrier! C’mon, just one more lap t’go, Pitty!” Pit let out a wheezing belch, his once-Herculean body strained to haul his extra tonnage. “GhwoOuRP! B-But… pant… I’ll never make it! Too… Heavy…” The angel huffed, his gargantuan arms continuing to swing like pudgy pendulums. “Soooo hungry!” “Why didn’t ya say so?” Leslie teased, waving a magic finger to summon a sandwich. But it was no regular sandwich! T’was a double-decker bacon cheeseburger, with patties as thick as phonebook! Pit watched Leslie with glistening, ravenous eyes as she then said, “If you make it through the finish line, consider this scran yours!” “You drive a hard bargain!” Pit huffed, his flabby food tank rumbling at the prospect. Despite resembling a giant, sweaty Soulflee than an actual angel, Pit allocated his last bits of strength to lug his titanic legs forward. His doughy feet beat the pavement like timpani. THOOMPH! THOOMPH! THOOMPH! All the while Hikari watched from the sidelines; gob smacked at this supersized turn of events. “Well, I’ll be darned…” He said, scratching the back of his head. “Though, Pit and Palutena would be into bulking… What do you think, Viridi—Wait, Viridi?!” The nature goddess rested upon the bleachers, pigging out on a banana split sundae. Hikari was startled by her rather… Bountiful figure. Her face certainly rounded out with a triple-chin; however, the rest of her body was like a gigantic, flabby pear: Breasts resting atop a doughy double-belly, thighs whose thickness rivaled sequoias, and a mountainous rear that oozed out her verdant leggings. Hikari was amused by Little Miss ‘Picture-of-Health’ and her sudden weight gain. “Say, Viridi, when you warped here, did you pay any tolls for that 18-wheeler you’re hauling? Seriously, that butt must be pushing some sort of weight limit!” Viridi sneered at Hikari, cramming a chocolatey banana down her gullet before retorting, “Don’t compare me to those pathetic lard piles—BWOOOURP!—I’ll have you know that my steady diet of fruit has given me plentiful energy reserves. Pit and Palutena are just paying the price for stuffing their faces with nothing but junk!” Even her dainty voice had fattened into a deep, husky tone as she guffawed at the obese Olympians. “So, unless you want to be crushed under my butt, I suggest you mind your manners.” “Heh, don’t threaten me with a good time, sweetcakes. Now, will our coaches dock points for this bout of divine intervention?” “If it were me, I would at least give Pit an A+ for waddling onwards despite the weight of the world on his shoulders. As annoying as he can be, you gotta admire his go-getter attitude!” Viridi added, commentating with Hikari was the contest went on. The athletic ceremony had become more of a prized hog contest as the now-porky Palutena laid on the court, wheezing and moaning while Pit had to be rolled over; Leslie gleefully helping push his titanic, sweat-soaked flab. Corrine smiled at the plucky mage, asking, “Leslie, dearie, what shall we do with our trainees? From the looks of it, they’ve packed on more muscle than ever before! Oh, how Adonis quakes at such athleticism!” Corrine marveled, getting a meaty handful of Palutena’s gut. In turn, the bloated goddess softly moaned, even blushing at Corrine’s brazenness as the Amazonian kneaded her like a stress ball. Leslie snickered at Corrine’s inquiry, setting her ample angel on his gut, just the right position for him to unleash a zephyrous belch that nearly took off Leslie’s hat. HWOOUUUURP! “H-Heh, sorry! Working out builds up a lotta energy!” Pit sheepishly chuckled. Leslie, however, hopped onto his gut and closed in on his flushed face. The two locked eyes for a moment, Leslie’s gentle breaths sync’d with Pit’s labored huffing. “Oh, Pitty, you’ll always be my Hercules…~” She cooed, lovingly caressing Pit’s cheeks and chins as her feelings for the doughy dork flared up. “Say Pit, once we wrap up this lil’ fitness test, n’ once we get back to the temple, I’ll… I-I’ll…” Pit blushed even harder, the romantic touch causing him to stammer and sputter, a few burps escaping in-between. Zzt! A lightning bolt from Corrine struck Leslie’s tight buttocks; jolting her from the trance. “Och! R-Right…” She gave Pit one last peck on the cheek before telling Corrine, “I say it’s time for the final evaluation, my good lassie! In my humble opinion, Pit passed with flying colors! Now, how he gained such Herculean strength is a mystery…” She began, “…and taking a gander at ol’ ‘Tena, she’s bursting at the seams with power!” “I concur!” Corrine said. “How could a goddess and an angel achieve the strength of an Atlantean soldier? Within a week, no less? It takes years, if not decades of rigorous training to reside in the royal barracks. Wouldn’t you say that Palutena took advantage of her privileged position to concoct a solution? Not a protein shake, mind you. But something else…” Pit and Palutena gulped, realizing that their coaches were closing in on them like sharks.Leslie scratched her chin. “Perhaps Palutena enacted a spell? For all we know, her and Pit could’ve used anything! Even—" Vwoosh! Using psychic powers, Corrine unveiled the smoking gun, or in this case: Palutena’s gilded bottle. “A performance-enhancing potion!” The empress shouted. She investigated the contents. Sniff-sniff. Corrine caught a hint of wine. This is peculiar… Wait—'Altantean Delight’? That’s my signature blend! Corrine took another whiff, this time befuddled by the myriad of rich, saccharine notes. A dash of lemon, a pinch of sherbet… “Goodness! Is this a pre-workout, or a tart?! Les, take a gander at this.” Leslie hopped down from her angelic throne to take a look at the mysterious blend. Her face immediately twinged. “By the gods, that’s rank!” Leslie exclaimed. “Dinnae know that ye can blend an entire bakery! Didja have Hik help bury the taste o’ yer super whey or somethin’?!” Palutena, through her flabby chins, fessed, “I… Might’ve let a —URRRP—danish pastry or two slip into the concoction, last night…” Her chubby cheeks began to flush, sacred voice now-deepened with lard. Corrine and Leslie sneered at the goddess with even more confusion. “Okay, fine! I was getting sick of drinking the same bland mixture of whey and lemon water, so I sweetened it with a dozen pastries and a bottle of wine! Can’t a goddess live a little?!” The athletic sleuths then turned to Pit, who immediately cracked under their piercing, perplexed gazes. “Palutena and I made a strength potion because we were jealous of your powers!” Pit sputtered, his voice retaining its dorky tone despite the added bass. Leslie and Corrine then looked at each other; dumbfounded. Taking this moment to collect themselves, Leslie could practically see the pieces fall into place while Corrine took a deep breath and exhaled. Finally, the ladies faced the exhausted blobs as Corrine began: “My suspicions have been confirmed: Palutena used magic in an attempt to forge a shortcut into fitness. And like clockwork, your divine hubris would catch up and become the key to your downfall; but not before roping in kid Icarus into your scheme. A classic Greek tragedy, if I do say so, myself~” The thunder goddess chuckled, shaking the empty vessel. “Oh, give Pitty a lil’ credit!” Leslie chimed in. “Hik told me that Palutena’s prized pig had a strong start to his regimen.” She sighed, strutting over to the angel. “My guess is that Icarus waddled too close to the buffet…” Leslie shifted her focus on Pit’s chest, which had ballooned into massive, meaty moobs! She licked her lips, being able to put aside her detective façade as she pounced! “A-Ahn!~” Pit yelped, Leslie having grabbed two handfuls of breast blubber; Pit yelped. “Just looka-these!” She cooed, giving those angelic melons a vigorous shake. SLOSH-SLOSH! Pit was at the mercy of his magical admirer, whimpering and moaning as euphoria washed away his anxiety. Leslie snuggled up on the boy flab until she said, “Corrine, you don’t happen to have bras in his size, do you? Ah, who am I kidding? This bonnie lad’s in a league of his own!” Pit’s face turned beet-red at her teasing. In fact, he began to chuckle as he realized that he never wanted to beat Corrine in the first place. He didn’t need the body of a god to grab a girl’s either. Bodybuilder or blob, Leslie admired him all the same! Corrine caressed Palutena’s bloated face, pushing a pastry puff between her lips. “Gods live luxuriously, don’t you agree? Back when I was still mortal, I had to chisel myself through hard work, discipline, and determination. As a matter of fact, it’s that exact resolve which granted me the status as ‘Storm Goddess’. Now, how shall you rectify your sins against athleticism?” Corrine wondered, tapping her chin… “Yo, Queen Wino!” Hikari interjected with a proposition of his own. “We got plenty of space, so why not have Pitty and his Porky Palutena sumo wrestle? It’ll be a best out of one, and the winner will be cured of their colossal curves. Loser has to shed the tonnage au naturel! No magic potions, no spells, just plain ol’ diet and exercise!” Corrine smirked. “It would be the only sport in their weight class…” She then looked back at her fiery partner. “What say you, Leslie? Is your lovebird up for a spar? Or do you insist on keeping him a beached whale?” Leslie laughed at Corrine’s tease. “For as much as I’d love to keep Pitty as my personal beanbag, he does have a responsibility as a hero…” She sighed, smiling and tousling the angel’s scruff. While Leslie and Corrine prepared the colossal contestants, Viridi chugged down her fourth tropical milkshake; the saccharine liquid pouring down her face and staining her ill-fitting dress. “Glug… Gulp… BWUEEERP!It’s about time Pit and Palutena duked it out! This calls for a captive audience.” Viridi snickered to herself as she snapped her fingers, summoning two of her commanders; Dark Pit and Phosphora to the bleachers. Phosphora scowled. “Ugh, what is it, mistress Viridi? I was in the middle of cleaning my scarf… Freaking Joltiks, they’re so annoying to pry off…” The electric valley girl scoffed, dusting off her garments. “This had better be important.” Dark Pit groaned. The raven-eyed angel then peered over the field… When suddenly—two amorphous piles of blubber! Pittoo rubbed his eyes and looked closer… “What happened to Pit?! I knew he was more stomach than boy, but jeez. Guess his fitness regimen fizzled out.” Phosphora was equally as astonished—if not, disgusted. “The goddess of light really oughta get a circus tent because—hrk! Those yoga pants are doing like, no favors. It’s like a can of biscuits blew wide open!” “A busted bakery, more like. Yo, mistress! Looks like Cragalanche has stiff competition!” Dark Pit joked. Viridi giggled at Pittoo’s comment, now devouring a plump mango as its juices splattered on her jiggling cheeks. “That’sh what they get for cheatin’ on their fitness exam! Nomf! Let’s sit back, relax, and watch our flabalanches rumble!” Back at the arena, Pit and Palutena had switched their overstretched and frankly sweat-soaked workout gear in favor of leotards and a mawashi. Their blubber flowed over the cloth as it hugged their bellies. Pit whimpered, feeling his undergarments tightly wedged between his meaty ass cheeks. Palutena fanned herself, protesting, “Whew! Couldn’t we just have an eating contest? If it weren’t for these one-pieces, we’d practically be naked!” Corrine scoffed, “Well, you should’ve considered the consequences before whipping up potions like some crazed witch! The only way for you to repent is to push that winged food blimp out of the ring!” She then flipped her hair. “Besides, if you take a nibble on another crumb, you’d be officially classified as a skywhale~” “Why you…!” Palutena’s face flushed at Corrine’s comment. Hidden beneath the queen’s veil of tact and ferocity lay a sassy spark, most likely fueled by her lifelong affinity for wine and spirits. It allured Lady Palutena; how an imposing, indomitable empress could possess such mirth. She sighed, “But… I’m still getting a victory feast, r-right?” Palutena’s stomach rumbled right on-cue. Corrine snickered, giving her rikishi a trustful nod. “Indubitably! A true queen treats her mistress to dinner after a hard day’s work. Now, go forth and seize victory!” Enthralled by the queen’s orders, Palutena steeled herself as she swung her massive leg upwards before pounding the earth beneath her. STOMP. STOMP. STOMP. Pudgy feet sent shockwaves across the soft ground. In reaction to this, Pit’s flab undulated, causing the boy to hesitantly moan as the jiggling felt weirdly euphoric. “H-Hey! Cut it with the diversion!” He huffed. Suddenly, Leslie exclaimed, “Don’t just stand there, use that momentum to knock that bletherin’ blob off her feet!” Pit nodded and clapped his cheeks to regain focus. “R-Right! Lady Palutena, prepare to face the light!” The angel plodded forward; his own hefty heels sank into the dirt with each stomp. THWOOMP. THWOOMP. After several steps, Pit utilized his stored energy and shifted his bulk towards Palutena, which caused him to start rolling. Upon facing the butterball boulder, Lady Palutena manifested a reflective barrier which shielded the adipose-laden assault. Pit’s massive gut was now pushing against the divine glass, with fat overflowing through the sides. “Haha! It takes more than brute strength to topple the goddess of light! You, of all people should know that, Pit!” Pit, now positioned ass-up, smirked at his gluttonous goddess, saying, “Oh yeah? Maybe these barriers have a weight limit?” He cockily grinned, heaving more of his bulk onto his opponent. The shield was now barely holding against Pit’s hulking frame. Eventually, the barrier itself caved into the pressure and dissipated, sending a tidal wave of angel blubber onto the goddess! “A-ha! It couldn’t handle my—BWOOOURP! …Raw, angel power!” “Ngh! You’re so… Hrn! … Huff… Heavy!” Palutena snarled, wobbling vigorously under the mound that was once her captain. “Drat! That barrier cost the last of my mana, too…” “So, how does it feel to be outclassed by power strength?” Pit teased. “... To be honest? Very soft, like I’m under a mattress… A hot and humid one, mind you, but a mattress, nonetheless.” Pit’s half-buried wings fluttered with glee upon being the victor. Shortly after, Corrine lifted the ample angel, letting her precious green goddess waddle free. And with the match being settled, the exam was officially over for the lardasses. Everyone went home, with Corrine and Leslie having to roll Skyworld’s prized hogs back to the temple. And after a romantic night with their coaches, Pit and Palutena underwent a legitimate fitness regimen. Well, in actuality, Hikari kept his promise to Pit, with Leslie magically slimming the angel down while Lady Palutena took her sweet, sweet time to shed off the tonnage. It goes to show that whether you are a god or a mere mortal, there is no magic path to athleticism. One needs to work for their muscles! … Well, except Adonis, but he’s the exception! Fin....
Female Weight Gain
The Fattening Gym (Weight Gain Story)Hazel's big green eyes still couldn't comprehend what she had just witnessed. She was usually able to conceal her true feelings and display herself stoically, even when her favorite grandmother passed away. She had never been an overly emotional wreck, but today she could not control herself. Her tears felt like a never-ending monsoon, only growing more intense with each passing minute. She couldn't even think straight; her entire life had been uprooted just like that. "Hazel, it's going to be okay." Her younger sister's voice was empathic, but nothing could soothe Hazel's ruptured soul and heart. The two sisters had always been close; they even lived together in the same apartment. "It's not!" Hazel yelled in a mixture of frustration and despair, "I've been with Noah for ten years. Our wedding was only a few weeks away. He cheated on me with my best friend in the whole world. I guess Julia was never my friend in the first place." Noah had only moved in with the sisters a few years ago, and he always enhanced the mood for Hazel and her younger sister, Mia. Now he was gone forever. "I know, but you'll find someone better! Also, you've known Julia since middle school; she was definitely your friend in the past." Mia replied, patting her sister's chiseled back. "It's easy for you to say, being so young." Hazel said while violently scratching her currently disheveled brown hair. "I'm turning 26 in a month. Let's face it, I'm getting old. Before I know it, I'll lose my fit body too, and then I'll have to sell the gym and end up being a thirty-year-old fatty." Mia wanted to comfort her sister, but Mia could never imagine Hazel ever losing her toned body. The 25-year-old was the definition of fit; standing at 5'6 and weighing in at around 130 pounds, Hazel didn't have an ounce of excess flab around her currently tanned body. Every inch of her body was lean and muscular except for her modestly sized C-cup breasts, which she adored more than anything. Including her delectable firm ass and her visible abs, which were both as hard as rocks. "Please, there's a higher chance of the sun not setting than you ever getting fat, and you know that." Mia exclaimed, wrapping her pale, dainty arms around her sister's defined biceps. "26 is not old at all. You still have enough time to find the right man for you." "You are right about me not getting fat at least." Hazel's mood finally seemed to be improving. "Yeah, and you and me both know for a fact that Julia is most likely going to turn into a real porker without you and your gym." Mia added, noting that Julia tended to put on a little weight when she was away from Hazel for an extended period of time, at least compared to her usual slim-thick self. Suddenly, a dastardly idea entered Hazel's mind. Hazel could actually potentially ruin Julia; Julia deserved it for sleeping with her man after all those years of companionship that had been disposed of like trash. "Maybe I can get some revenge on Julia." "Revenge doesn't seem like your vibe. You shouldn't stoop to her level and hurt her. Just think about how you feel; it's horrible. I don't think anyone should feel that way; maybe there are truly evil people, but Julia isn't evil. Don't ruin her." Mia gulped, really hoping that Hazel's bloodshot eyes wouldn't lead to any bloody murders. "I don't see how making her fat would ruin my life." Hazel said methodically. "She might lose some of her fans, but she could also get some love from the fat lovers of the world. My gym will probably be affected if she gets fat, but that's fine. I can always find another job." Mia didn't know how to respond. Julia was a decently popular vlogger and influencer; she had around a million followers, most of whom fawned over her hot body. Julia always gave promo to Hazel's gym. She frequently posted videos of her working out there. This did wonders for the gym business, and Julia even helped Hazel secure a loan for the gym due to their friendship. Mia was conflicted, as she didn't want to see two close friends actively stabbing each other in the back. She would greatly miss her free membership to her sister's gym if it ever closed due to a lack of business, but she knew she would not be able to alter her sister's plans, as she had always been so hardheaded. "Just do what's best for you." Hazel couldn't help but grin; her plan would be incredible. She couldn't wait to see her blonde, 130-pound bombshell of a friend put on around 100 pounds of jiggly fat. It would be so satisfying to see her lose everything like Hazel just had. Hazel's mind attempted to formulate a plan to really fatten Julia up. She had an epiphany when she noticed her slim 21-year-old sister sipping on a protein shake. "What's in that shake?" "Just protein powder and water. It actually tasted pretty good, and it filled me up until lunch. I would be so much fatter without these." "I have an idea, but I need your help since you love protein shakes. You know I can't stand them." "I don't want to get involved." Mia was not a vindictive person; Hazel wasn't usually one either, but being betrayed by the two people she believed she could trust with anything really altered her. "I just need you to sample some protein shakes that, let's just say, wouldn't be nutritious or healthy." "Why would I need to do that?" Mia inquired, not understanding Hazel's devious plan. "I'm planning on giving Julia a specially crafted protein shake when she hopefully shows up at my gym a couple pounds heavier. If you help me with this, I'll let you and June get the master bedroom of our apartment when you finally ask her to move it." "Fine, just this one time because I love you and the master bedroom seems pretty cool too." Mia groaned, hoping that these calorically dense shakes wouldn't ruin her fairly skinny figure. The 21-year-old looked almost identical to her sister, as she had the same bubbly emerald eyes, a small nose, puffy lips, and even raised eyelashes. However, Mia's natural brown hair was dyed a sparkly pink, and her body was mostly bones and tiny pockets of fat around her waifish hips, modest buttocks, and tiny breasts that just fit loosely into A-cup bras. The 21-year-old was a fairly average 5'5 but only weighed in at 110 pounds and prided herself on maintaining her girlish figure. The only person who adored her slim figure more was her equally thin Korean girlfriend, Ha-Joon, or June for short. "Thanks; I love you so much!" Hazel exclaimed, embracing her thin sister. "I love you too, sis; now I have to go to class." Mia waved goodbye, hoping that she was dreaming, as she just felt uncomfortable with all the events that were transpiring. "Do I really have to try another protein shake? I've must have had over a million shakes in the past two weeks." Mia groaned as her sister handed her yet another protein shake to sample. Mia had enjoyed her first few days of being Hazel's taste tester. She really enjoyed the creamy concoctions but soon grew weary of not only the overly sweet taste of fattening protein shakes but also how the shakes were morphing her waifish body. "Please, sis, just a few more; we should have enough data on the best shake." Hazel replied, handing Mia a sizeable bottle full of sugar, subtle spices, a few fruits, ice cream, peanut butter, heavy cream, and even an appetite enhancer. Mia sighed, picking up her third shake of the day, and started to chug it down. Hazel couldn't help but notice Mia's small t-shirt was riding up, exposing her midsection, which was definitely rounder and more womanly. Hazel grinned, noticing her tug her t-shirt downwards to cover the excess flab that now covered her previously pristine waistline. It was still a starter belly, as only an inch or so of flab jutted out forward and sideways. It still disgusted Mia, who vowed to lose the weight after she was done helping her sister. "Okay, sis, I'm not even lying. This might be the perfect shake." Mia exclaimed, standing up and pushing the half-finished shake away. When standing up, Mia's shirt again rode up, exposing her budding love handles and tummy, which she frowned at. However, the weight gain hadn't been all bad. Her bosoms had finally sprouted and now filled out A-cup bras, as they had expanded from the size of minuscule cherries to about grapefruits. Even her slim legs and hips had expanded, growing thicker and flabbier. "I need you to finish it. Especially if you like it so much." Hazel replied, mostly now interested in how much weight her sister had put on and which of the concoctions had led to the most weight gain. Hazel was able to do this by bringing one of her scales from her gym, which automatically sent her the weight of anyone who stepped on it. With her sister being so vein and concerned about her figure, Mia checked her weight every day. This meant that Hazel was able to track Mia's progress over the two weeks and would be able to determine the shake that added the most pounds and still tasted decent. "I hate you so much." Mia exclaimed, rubbing her growing belly, hoping it would relieve some pressure and potentially speed up her digestion so she could finish the shake without being too bloated. "Mia, that's not very nice to say. Maybe you don't want the master bedroom after all." Hazel jested to the already infuriated Mia. Hazel knew exactly why Mia was so upset. It was the fact that she managed to pack on a staggering twenty pounds in only 14 days. Mia now weighed as much as her sister at 130 pounds; however, Mia's extra pounds were all fluff, unlike her sister's chiseled muscles. Mia wanted to exercise to turn some of her extra flab to muscle, but the protein shakes left her bloated and sleepy, especially after all the studying she had been doing for her upcoming finals. The next week was fairly tedious for the two sisters, as Hazel just spent every waking minute waiting for Julia to show up at her gym, while Mia was too busy with her finals and moving her stuff into her new room. Mia was also fairly worried about asking June to move in with her. She adored her so much but still feared possible rejection, now more than ever with her own figure, which hadn't stopped expanding. Those two weeks of excessive calories had permanently expanded the capacity of her stomach, which had grown accustomed to an excess of calories. So, Mia carelessly ate while attempting to cram for her finals, and she ate whenever she thought about asking June to move in with her on top of fairly standard breakfasts of scrambled eggs, fast food lunches, and a fairly healthy dinner prepared by her sister. All that eating added five more pounds to Mia's now curvy figure. These pounds seemed to mostly impact her upper arms, which were no longer toothpicks and rounded out her sunken face. The five extra pounds put her at 135 pounds and made her more determined than ever to lose the weight, especially now that summer break was starting. Mia decided to tag along with her sister to her gym. The two sisters were both dressed in leggings and tank tops. The sisters impressive bodies had many guys turning their heads to check them out, even Mia, as she still looked fairly attractive even with her little tummy pooch bulging out of her high-waisted leggings. Just as the sisters were about to start up a grueling workout on some treadmills, they were stopped by none other than Julia. "Hey, Mia and Hazel." Julia whimpered softly as Hazel turned to face her best friend, who had ruined her relationship. The pretty blonde was now her nemesis, and it was her mission to fatten her into obesity. It seemed Hazel's assertions about Julia potentially packing on some pounds without Hazel's gym and her guilty consciousness were correct. "I'm so sorry. I'll leave if you want me too." Julia started to cry, leading Hazel to embrace the heavier girl. After a long embrace and a few words, Hazel finally assessed Julia's figure. She still looked absolutely stunning, even in her ordinary leggings and an oversized top and with some extra pounds. The ten pounds seemed to have primarily impacted her already large breasts, which seemed even bigger, and her arms, which were now quite flabby. Hazel pondered if Julia was wearing shapewear to hide some extra fat, as she had done in the past. "Hazel, I don't even have words. I feel like calling you my best friend is underestimating how important you are to me. Thanks for not hating my guts." Julia's baby blue eyes finally stopped watering. "Julia, I could never hate you forever; we've been so close for so long now. Do you need help with anything?" Hazel said hoping that Julia would fall right into her trap. "Yeah, speaking of guts, I've grown a little beer gut. I have a photoshoot in about a month with Zara, and they want me in a bikini, which would be fine if I hadn't put on 15 pounds, since you know." Julia shuddered, trying her best to avoid mentioning what she had done. "I got you, Julia! You know that." Hazel smiled, her mind picturing Julia's flabby body bulging out of a skin-tight bikini. "So, before we work out, I say that you should try one of our gym's new protein shakes. I was thinking about maybe making them free for all of our customers as a scheme to drive up memberships. It would be so great if we could show how successful they are with your help by posting your weight loss results on your social media." "Let's do it." Julia nodded, understanding it would be great to expose the world to her larger figure only after she lost the excess pounds. The three girls went to the back of the gym, where Hazel prepared a protein shake for the three of them, while Mia helped get Julia ready for the before photos. For the before photo, Julia took off her large top and her Spanx to show off her larger figure. "God, I look so fat." Julia sighed. At 5'6 and 145 pounds, Julia was still fairly hot, even with her newly added curves. Her arms and chest were definitely meatier. but her waistline seemed to bear the brunt of the pounds. She cringed at the sight of her proper beer belly, as the fat now extended around four inches past her mushy love handles. Her thighs also seemed dangerously close to touching, ruining her coveted thigh gap. The part of her that was unscathed seemed to be her face, which was still quite modelesque. "You look amazing, and you aren't the only one who has put on some weight." Mia replied, pushing down her high-waisted leggings to show Julia her heavier waistline." "I thought you looked bigger! How did that happen?" Julia exclaimed, noting that Mia had been skinny her entire life, while her own weight always tethered up and down. "I was so stressed with finals, but don't worry, we'll both lose the weight in no time with Hazel's help!" "The pounds will melt off both of you faster than Usain Bolt." Hazel returned, looking at the two larger women. Hazel definitely felt powerful knowing she was so much more fit than either of them. "Okay, time to smile for the before photos; please stop sucking in. We need to see the full extent of your belly." "Okay." Julia exhaled, adding more inches of flab to her already chunky midsection. Julia attempted to hide her embarrassment as Hazel took many photos of her larger figure. After the photoshoot, the trio casually drank their protein shakes. Mia noticed that it tasted identical to one of Hazel's shakes that she had ingested a few weeks ago. Mia hoped that this was a mistake, as she did not need to be drinking any excess calories. After finishing their shakes, the girls did a fairly standard thirty-minute run on the treadmill and spent about ten minutes lifting. They stopped abruptly due to Julia, who was drenched in sweat, calling it off, claiming she was about to pass out. The rest of the week went similarly, with the trio gulping down on fattening protein shakes before and even after the workout, as Hazel claimed the low-calorie shakes would boost the girls metabolism and fill them up, preventing them from eating any excess calories. Mia did ask her sister about the protein shakes and why she had given her a fattening protein shake. Hazel assured her sister that she made a mistake on their first day together at the gym and vowed to make Mia's and her own protein shakes with just protein powder and water. Hazel didn't stick to the promise, as she was starting to enjoy watching her sister put on weight. So Hazel made sure to add a little extra weight gain powder and apatite enhancer to Mia's shake while still making Julia's shakes yummy and extremely fattening. This added an extra couple of pounds on both Mia and June. These pounds would be on full display as Hazel had invited Mia, June, and Julia to a girls night out on Saturday. The plan was to pregame at Mia and Hazel's place before heading out to the bras. June was the first to arrive, and the Korean girl looked as pretty and as dainty as ever with her stylish black dress that matched her long black hair. "Where's Mia?" "I think she's still getting ready." Hazel replied; she also looked incredible in her chic crop top and jeggings, which showed off her amazingly fit figure. "Let's check." Hazel and June both bolted to the master room, where they opened the door to a very flustered Mia. Mia was dressed in only a tight bra and underwear, struggling to shimmy her heavier thighs into a pair of fairly small jeans, but they seemed stuck around her upper thighs. "Holy shit babe. No wonder you've been wearing sweats and puffy jackets even with it being summer." June bluntly stated while Mia attempted to respond rationally to her girlfriend. "June, look, there's a reason why I'm a little heavier." "You aren't just a little heavier. You are massive! Look at that belly, those flabby thighs, and you even have love handles. You are full on skinny fat on the verge of getting chubby." June continued, dampening Mia's already low mood. "Aren't girlfriends supposed to be supportive and kind?" Mia sighed as she felt June's skinny hands squeezing an inch of her exposed gut. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. It's just that I never expected you to be this fat. I mean, look at your belly jiggles like Jell-O when I touch it." June said playfully hitting Mia's stomach, causing it to jiggle, only making Mia feel more inadequate. "June, stop it. I already hate my body enough and ate too much at the buffet." Mia frowned, resenting her decision to get four full plates at the buffet for lunch earlier. She deluded herself by thinking that she deserved a reward for sticking to her diet for a week, even if she was only getting heavier, and her cousins seemed to be eating as much as her, so binged along with them, forgetting that they were at least a hundred pounds bigger than her. "Then why'd you let yourself go?" June inquired, stepping back while understanding her girlfriend's dismay. "Can you tell her, Hazel? I'm a little busy now." Mia asked her sister while now pulling with all her might to get the jeans above her plump posterior. "I guess, just don't tell anybody about this, or I will make sure that you disappear forever." June stepped back further, her heart rate skyrocketing. "Maybe I should just leave." "Hazel, stop freaking her out." Her sister wailed as the fabric wouldn't go over her inflated ass cheeks. "Well, it's not my secret to get out." June seemed very uncomfortable and headed toward the living room, saying, "I'm just going to head out." "June, wait, I'll tell you." Mia managed to stumble her way to her girlfriend and spill the beans about Hazel's plan to fatten up Julia and how she had tried over a hundred dense protein shakes, which expanded her figure. "I still don't get why you'd let yourself get so fat just to spite Julia, even if she deserves it." June said. "I did it for us. Hazel promised to give us the master bedroom if I helped her out." A few tears fell from June's eyes as the duo embraced, their lips eventually touching. It felt magical to the young couple. "I'm so sorry; you must think that I am such a bitch." June cooed. "I don't deserve you." "Yes, you do." Mia grinned as they had another extraordinary kiss. However, the girls were brought back to reality once the doorbell rang. "How about you help me find something that doesn't make me look like a cow in my room?" "I'll try, but it might be impossible with the size of this gut." June said, slapping Mia's round gut. The duo retreated to their room while Hazel answered the door to her blonde friend, looking immaculate. Julia deserved to impress with a sparkly red dress. The dress seemed to be enchanted by witchcraft, as it somehow perfectly hid every additional ounce of flab from Julia's larger waistline while still showcasing her larger breasts and butt. "You look amazing!" Hazel exclaimed, and she meant it. "Thanks, it's amazing what shapewear can do." "Do you want a beer while we wait for my sister and her girlfriend?" "That shouldn't be a question." Julia replied as the duo both drained two beers while pleasantly chatting and waiting for June and Mia. Eventually, just as Hazel's recently manicured hands were opening the frigid fridge door, the young lovebirds entered the living room holding hands. Mia seemed to have found a bigger skirt that fit around her larger bottom half and a top that matched. The top was still a little too small, as any subtle movements, exposed Mia's plush tummy. All four girls enjoyed beers together before heading out, leaving Hazel and the heavier blonde, Julia, quite intoxicated. Their Uber driver seemed quite annoyed by the four loud girls yapping about nonsense but decided to keep his mouth shut and focus on the busy roads. "I don't get how you look so skinny, Julia! I swear you were 10 pounds heavier yesterday." Mia asked. "I just used my wizardly powers, and poof, all the excess fat flew off." Julia giggled. "Really?" Mia pondered, wondering if there really was some sort of magic pill that could shrink your tummy for hours. "Hell no, are you dumb? I thought you were a computer science major. Aren't they supposed to be smart?" Julia snorted obnoxiously, "It's called Spanx. I'm surprised your fat-ass didn't wear any." "You did not call my girl fat, and I'll let you know that me and Mia are geniuses when it comes to coding and computers but clueless with everything else." June almost yelled. "Even if you two are idiots, Mia is pretty fat with that gut." Julia replied, squeezing inches of Mia's round gut. "I'm just bloated, and I'll lose the weight in no time, so there's no need for me to wear shapewear." Mia was truthfully bloated; it was her time of month, and she had stuffed herself silly at a lunch buffet at her cousin's birthday party. Luckily, her cousin and their friends had always been very portly and didn't comment on Mia's larger figure; this didn't stop her sister from poking Mia's larger stomach after devouring plates full of hearty chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, perfectly fried chicken, and of course her favorite mac-n-cheese. Not to mention her devouring almost every dessert on her sister's plate after she had already unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. "I hope we both lose the weight soon." Julia nodded. "Enough talking about dieting and losing weight. Tonight's a night for us all to enjoy ourselves." Hazel yelled. Everyone agreed, and all thoughts about eating and drinking reasonably ceased. The bar was packed when they entered, and the girls quickly found a group of guys that were happy to pay for their drinks for a shallow conversation that went nowhere. Eventually, some upbeat songs compelled Hazel, June, and Julia to get up and dance, while Mia just happily sipped on a cold beer while talking to a fairly handsome man. Mia asked the man for more drinks, and he obliged; however, as he returned to the booth with two more icy beers, he was greeted by Mia passionately making out with June. "What a bitch! All girls are the same." He murmured, walking away, dejected, leaving the two beers for the couple to enjoy. "You are so good at getting free drinks, babe. Do you ever feel bad for those men?" June asked her girl as they both guzzled down their beers. "Never; they just think of me as an object for sex. That guy could not stop staring at my tits. I'm so glad he didn't glance down at this beer gut, or we wouldn't be drinking these." Mia said, rubbing her gut, noticing it was uncomfortably bulging out of her skirt due to six beers. "It's getting quite big. You could pass for a pregnant lady. How does it feel to have such a big, round belly?" June said, slurring her words while playfully messaging her girlfriend's titanic stomach. "Weird, I just feel flabby and gross." "I still think you are hot, just a little chubby. You may need to take it easy on the beers." June stated this while kissing Mia and grabbing Mia's half-finished beer and chugging it. "What do you think you are doing, young lady?" Mia demanded stomping on her feet in June. "Ow, that hurt." "That's what you get for drinking my beer." Mia pouted. "I'm only trying to help! Don't you see those beers are making you so fat and even more bloated?" June said, "I got to get my girl in shape, even if it means eating or drinking some of her temptations away." "Won't that make you fat? I can already see a little belly sticking out of your dress." Mia teased, touching the rock-hard midsection of her friend. "This is temporary, and I can suck it in. You know me; I never gain weight. My metabolism is just too fast." Mia laughed, envisioning June being fatter, but failed, just like when she thought about her sister being bigger. Mr. Brightside blasted through the stereo of the bar, leading the couple to the dance floor, where they danced a little too hard. Mia couldn't help but lose control, not realizing how tight and constricting her skirt was getting until it was too late. RIP! "I just can't look; it's killing me." The Killers roared as raucous dancers continued, luckily not noticing the traumatized Mia running away from the crowded establishment, with June trying to cover hide her girlfriend's exposed bum. Julia and Hazel were not where to be found and were not answering their phones, so the duo just called an Uber home. They snuggled together in Mia's small bed, with June's delicate hands wrapped around Mia's overstuffed stomach. June's eyes were full of lust as she caressed the new soft, comforting inches of flesh that coated her girlfriend. Julia and Hazel's night had not ended, as the two of them were currently planning to get some late-night pizza with two very handsome bachelors. One of whom was the guy who bought drinks for Mia. They talked and talked, sipping wine and enjoying large slices of New York-style pizza, until it was time to go home. Hazel alone, as the guy she was talking to claimed to have a flight to catch at six in the morning. Meanwhile, Julia's arms were wrapped around her man even after she made a pig of herself, eating two giant slices of pizza at their late-night snack. This led to her Spanx nearly breaking apart, but luckily they held, and her man was captivated by her impressive chest. These only furthered Hazel's resentment for her old friend. She would make her pay, and Hazel would be too fat to even dream of leaving the house when she was done with her. "I can't go to the shoot today!" Julia exclaimed to Hazel as she walked out into her modest living room, practically bulging out of her bikini. It had been exactly three weeks since Julia had been working out with Hazel and Mia. "Why not? You look incredible." Hazel stated while thinking that Julia looked incredibly fat. The three weeks of caloric-dense protein shakes resulting in her figure exploding in size. Her face remained mostly unscathed, as it only seemed somewhat rounder, as the rest of her currently plump body took the brunt of the gain. Her always-prodigious bosom seemed bigger than basketballs as the poked and bulged out of her painfully tight top. Her thighs and bum had both expanded to the point of almost shallowing the entire bottom portion of her bikini. It was a good thing that she had been working out, as at least her thighs and bum were somewhat muscular and firm under a visible, thick layer of pure fat. Still, it was her belly that took the brunt of her gain. Her stomach had always been a problem area; now it was an absolute disaster for the vein model. "Are you insane? Look at my gut! It's enormous! I look five months pregnant!" Julia yelled in despair while grabbing and squeezing sizeable portions of her frankly fat tummy. It was one of roll of squishy flab that had nearly doubled in width and girth, every inch of it jiggling when she dared to move. To make matters even worse, her juicy, fat-filled love handles jutted out to her thick hips. "I think you are being too hard on yourself. I think your mind might be playing tricks on you." Hazel said hoping desperately to see everyone's reaction to her new heavier body. "That's not true at all. I've gained 16 pounds since I've started working out with you! I weigh 161 pounds of pure lard. I'm actually overweight." Julia's anger had not subsided. "I just hate every inch of my disgustingly fat body." "Don't say that." Hazel replied, patting Julia in the back, feeling that even her back was fleshier. "You aren't overweight. You've just put on some muscle. If you want to look overweight, you should see Mia. Now, that's a real fatty." "You are right about your sister being fatter, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm going to be laughing stock at shoot. I can't go." Hazel decided to change her approach to convince Julia to head to her shoot. "Look, I'm going to be serious right now. How on earth do you expect to afford rent this month? I know for a fact that you haven't done any brand deals or endorsements. Your social media had been in a blank state; you and I both know that you need the money for this shoot, no matter how quickly you spend it." "Fine, you are right. Just please come with me for some emotional support." Hazel grinned, hugging her heavier friend, relishing every inch of her heavier body. Serves her well for corrupting her soulmate. Hazel couldn't wait to see their reaction to Julia, who was over 40 pounds heavier than they expected; this would be better than heaven itself. The drive to the model shoot was silent, as only the vapid, catchy tunes of top Spotify songs blasted in two adversaries ears. Both were too deep in thought to really listen or talk. After an almost hour-long drive due to immense traffic caused by a deadly car crash, The duo didn't even comment or acknowledge the disaster; they were both trapped in their minds. Julia had already put on all her makeup and was dressed in an oversized puffy jacket and stretchy sweatpants to cover up her bikini as they walked into the frigid building and soon found their way to the shoot, which had already started. "Julia, you are so late!" A spiffy, fit man exclaimed. "Get out of that jacket and step backstage now. The live stream has already started!" "But..." Julia murmured in fear, only now recalling that they would present their bodies to the whole world. "No, but let's get your butt back there; it's an order." He said it with Julia sighing and meandering her way slowly to the back. "Faster!" Julia's pace picked up, and she soon vanished backstage. The man shook his head and said, "That Julia is such a person. You must be, Hazel? You look even better in person than on Julia's posts." Hazel blushed. She had been working out extra hard in her gym and eating right, which had been much harder with June moving in with her and her sister. June, who at first seemed opposed to Mia's heavier figure, now seemed to possibly want it bigger, as she always made sure that Mia's plump stomach was filled to the brim with her favorite junk. Not to mention that June had been baking almost constantly, as she had been selling some of her homemade treats for extra cash. Mia, of course, was bestowed with the honor of being the taste tester and quality control expert. Mia reluctantly agreed and vowed to spend more time at the gym to counteract the onslaught of calories, but no amount of time in the gym was going to offset nearly 5,000 calories of sugary treats, greasy fast food, and salty snacks she consumed daily. It was frankly a miracle that Hazel had still not put on a pound of weight, with June even seeming less skinnier than usual. "Thanks; you're not too bad yourself." The man chuckled. "It's too bad that you're not my type." Hazel feigned a smile; men were just impossible to comprehend for her after Noah. "Oh girl, don't look at me like that. You look pretty cute; I'm just not into girls." Hazel slapped her head, her face entirely red from embarrassment. "I'm so sorry. I might be the dumbest person on earth." "It's okay; most people don't realize that I'm gay, and you can't be as dumb as your friend. What on earth has she been eating? She looks like a cow. Excuse me." The man frantically said as he walked toward the cameraman while Julia's eyes turned to runaway. There, Julia was sweating as she attempted to hide her emotions. Hazel was giggling as Julia's plump stomach and breasts jiggled as she attempted to strut down the long runaway. Julia was clearly sucking in her bulging stomach, but she still looked way too heavy to be in this shoot. The small crowd seemed frazzled but silent, as they hadn't expected a plus-sized model. Julia managed to complete her entire shoot without breaking down, but seemed beyond distraught backstage with her manager. "What is wrong with you? You couldn't tell me that you ate yourself into obesity?" The man from before sounded beyond just frustrated. "Look, I can explain it." Julia softly replied, tears continuing to fly down her rounder cheeks. "No, a cow like you can't explain anything. All a cow, like you, can do is eat. Just eat and moo." "It's already been hard enough." Julia tried to speak. "No, I'm done with you. You don't know how much you damaged my reputation. I'm not your manager anymore. At least I can recover from this mess; you are ruined forever. Judging by the way you gained weight so fast, you are going to be too fat to even dream of being a plus-sized model. So, try to make the most of your life before you eat yourself to an early grave, pig." The man slammed the door shut with Julia more distraught than ever, with a few of the other models and Hazel comforting her with untrue compliments. "Ignore him; you look fine." A dark-skinned model claimed. "More than just fine." A raven-haired model with pale skin added. "See, I told you that you looked great." Hazel chimed in. "Ignore that ugly man; if anything, he's the pig." "All men are such pigs. Us girls need to celebrate you getting rid of him tonight." The fair girl said. "Thanks; can you girls give me a second to change? I feel so gross." Julia said. The three ladies obliged and whispered outside. "How did she get so fat, or is she pregnant?" One of the models asked Hazel. "She isn't pregnant; I fattened her up." Hazel said nonchalantly to the other two's shock. "What? I thought you two were besties." "Yeah, why would you want your best friend to get so fat and ugly? I still can't believe she did her shoot with her stomach being that big. It was like she shallowed a watermelon." Hazel proudly explained the whole story to the strangers, who decided it was best to politely leave as they didn't want to lose their prized bodies by spending time with the frankly somewhat deranged Hazel. Julia exited her changing room dressed in her puffy jacket and sweatpants from before. "Where'd they go? "I'm not going to lie. They just dissed you and left. I'm so sorry." "It's okay," Julia said, holding back more tears. Hazel honestly did feel somewhat sorry; maybe she had taken this too far. "You know what makes this even worse." Julia cooed out. "I'm starving." "Well, you don't have any fashion shoots to get ready for anytime soon." "One last binge, and I'll start eating better again!" Julia said it with some passion. "I'll show all of them. I can get my body back; I might need your help more than ever. It's just that I tend pig out at night; I just can't control myself alone with food anymore." "I got you. You know that!" "I'm just so happy to have a friend like you, even after what I did to you." Julia embraced Hazel. Hazel was starting to feel bad for what she had done to Julia's figure, but she decided Julia deserved it all. She deserved to be even bigger. "Do these pants make me look fat?" June asked Mia, Julia, and Hazel. "No, it's your big butt and muffin top that make you look fat." Mia answered rudely to her girlfriend. "You are one to talk! If my ass is fat, then your ass is gigantic." June squawked back. The lovers were both correct, as the past month had added quite a few pounds to both of their figures. June, who had never had an excess ounce of fat in her body, was truthfully pudgy, or what some might call skinny fat. Her entire upper body was unchanged. Slim face, dainty arms, and tiny breasts, while her bottom half had exploded. She now had a tiny bit of pudge on her stomach, even when sucking in. It was very noticeable in her much-too-small size 2 pants, while her bum and thighs had also grown more womanly and round. Meanwhile, Mia was larger than ever before. The past month has not been kind to Mia's already pudgy figure. She had packed on a grand total of 51 pounds over the past few months; this put her at a frankly overweight 161 pounds. Most would also agree with the notion that she was overweight, given the jiggly two layers of flabby blubber that covered her previously trim midsection and her simply enormous ass. Each check was now simply full of juicy fat that jigged whenever she walked, which was becoming a rare occurrence. Not to mention that her equally large and flabby thighs, which now touched, were also equally packed with thick fat and hardly any muscle. This weight gain was due to her just lounging and taking it easy all summer break. It was also caused by her still-fit sister Hazel, who cooked up a storm for Mia and Julia, who had moved into their now fairly crowded apartment. Julia was clinically depressed after the disaster of the model shoot and simply had no energy to do anything except sleep, cry, and eat food to drown out all the negative feelings. Hazel eagerly suggested Julia move it with them until she felt better, which still seemed far away, but the four girls planned a trip that would hopefully lift everyone's spirits. "Girls, stop fighting. We need to leave in five minutes or we'll miss the Uber and our flight!" Hazel was yelping, hoping that the trip would go smoothly and add even more pounds to everyone's figures. Fattening up Julia had awakened something hidden in the recesses of Hazel's thick cranium. She loved seeing other girls put on weight; it not only made her feel better about herself and her pristine figure, but it also felt strangely alluring. Hazel had gotten so into seeing her girls pack on pounds that she now gifted her free fattening protein shakes to a select few customers and personal trainers in her gym. "Do I have enough time to change?" June asked, to a resounding no from her three roommates. She sighed and pouted. "It's just these brown pants are so tight, I can't eat anything or I'll burst out of them, and I'm famished after you three ate two entire pizzas while I was trying to find something that didn't make me look so chunky." "Don't look at me. Julia ate the most, like always." Mia growled, all eyes turning to Julia. Julia had obviously put on the most weight of them all, a grand total of 25 pounds over the past month alone, making her a portly 186 pounds. Her weight had been evenly distributed around her body except, of course, her face, which miraculously remained fairly slim, although a second chin was starting to sprout right above her now impressive breasts that had grown to the size of small watermelons. Julia's breasts weren't the only things that had grown, as her stomach had added an extra layer of pudgy flesh that jiggled in union with her flabby arms, massive thighs, and rotund ass. She was bigger everywhere and didn't seem to mind the teasing, as she was now aware that she was a big girl and would stay that way for good. Food was just so comforting, and she didn't feel like she could give up the incredible sensations that radiated throughout her larger body whenever she stuffed herself. "I was just so peckish; I'm sorry." Julia said, noticing her paunchy gut was bulging out of her red new top. She tugged down, wishing she was back to being a skinny, hot model, even though she knew that would never happen. "It's fine; let's just go! The Uber is already here. I hope you ladies are ready for Vegas!" Hazel excitedly said as the quartet left the apartment with their bags and talked all the way to the airport, where they quickly boarded their flight and zoned out while starting at their phones. Hazel was deep in thought about some of her female customers who had found some new pounds wrecking their previously perfect bodies. Jackie and Jill were also two of her favorite victims, which she hoped would continue to gain without her presence. Jackie was a middle-aged trophy wife who painstakingly crafted the most alluring figure of all time due to hours spent at the gym for her rich older husband. However, the recent influx of protein shakes were making the trim 38-year-old larger. At first, she resorted to upping her time at the gym, but that seemed to fail as her six pack was melting and getting replaced by a tiny layer of pudge. She was so determined to lose weight that she even took home the protein shakes, as a meal replacement, in order to lose her the excess pounds. However, that only sped up her expansion as her muscles shrank, bones were hidden, and juicy pockets of fat appeared all throughout her body. To make matters worse, her husband seemed more distant with every pound she put on. Jill had also struggled with her weight for almost her whole 25 years of existence until she met Hazel, who got her life and body in check after two arduous years of diet and exercise. Jill started at a very heavy 330 pounds and ended up at a perfect 140 pounds for her taller 5'8 stature. However, the past month of fattening protein shakes and constant parties with her new boyfriend left her 15 pounds heavier with a muffin top and love handles that would not disappear no matter how long she spent at the gym. Jill at least didn't have to worry about losing her boyfriend, as he seemed to adore every inch of his girl's heavier frame and even encouraged her to eat to her heart's content. Hazel loved how the two were losing their fit bodies and how the two of them also couldn't help but shame each other when the other wasn't around. "I can't believe Jackie is wearing those yoga pants! Her fat ass is about to rip through them if she can't put down a fork." "Jill really thinks she can pull off a crop top? I am about to barf looking at that growing muffin top." "Jackie was crying in the changing room; her man's about to divorce her. Serves the pig right for letting herself get so fat; she's going to end up bigger than me if she doesn't change her ways." "Did you see Jill's Instagram? It's no wonder her belly is sticking out like she's pregnant today! She ate two burgers, one hotdog, a massive platter of fries, and God knows how many cookies. That's without mentioning all that beer she greedily guzzled on. She's going to be bigger than a house." Hazel grinned to herself, thinking deeply about how big all of the girls in her life were going to get as the plane landed and the friends started their two-week vacation to hopefully pull Julia out of her rut. After a long check-in procedure at Ceaser's Palace, the girls all dressed to impress in their favorite dresses and started the night with excessive gambling and drinking. The girls were down a lot of money until Julia hit a staggering jackpot on the usually unforgiving slots. This jackpot win was a once-in-a-lifetime amount of money that caused the four girls to shriek in pure astonishment. $65,302 from one bonus was more money than some people made in an entire year of hard work. Ceaser's Palace even gave all four girls a free meal at their extravagant buffet for no cost if they accepted a payment plan for their winnings. The girls accepted the plan, and Julia was reinvigorated instantly. The girls all ate their first meal at the buffet with reckless abandon, not caring about a thing in the world but stuffing their faces, even Hazel. They all practically inhaled their first plates of smokey meats and flavorful cheeses with some of the most divine bread ever baked. Their second plate was covered in expensive crab legs, lobster rolls, and, of course, tons of butter to add flavor and calories. The third plate of different types of sushi, stacked taller than some skyscrapers, was also exquisite. The four girls were showing signs of their binge with their bellies popping out of their dresses, including Hazel, which prompted her to stop while the trio brought back a fourth plate of creamy pasta. "Aren't you hungry, sis?" Mia asked while scarfing down sustainable bites of her thick chicken Alfredo. "I'm stuffed; I don't think I could handle anything without hurling." Hazel said, wincing in pain while cradling her currently bloated stomach; she wasn't used to eating like this. "I feel just like you." June added, looking down at her own stomach, which was straining the fabric of her pretty aquamarine dress. "But we need to take advantage of this free food." "Maybe I'll have room for a bite of dessert." Hazel replied, dreaded the thought of putting anything down her currently stuffed tummy. Hazel ended up having more than a bite of dessert, as her three companions practically begged to try a bite of their unique treats. Hazel loved the creamy chocolate moose, the sea salt ice cream, the Oreo brownie, and even the lava cake, but regretted each bite after she belched after two bites of the unforgettable chocolate lava cake. "Excuse me." Hazel said, then hiccupped while feeling a pair of hands on her taut stomach. "Hey!" "You can't get eaten like this, or you'll be bigger than Julia in no time." June chuckled while continuing to pat Hazel's round tummy. "At least my stomach isn't ripping the seams of my dress." Hazel retorted, pinching a soft inch of visible flesh situated right on her waistline due to a recent tear from overindulgence. "Shut up! Mia, let's go!" June grabbed Mia's hand, as they strutted away, not before Hazel noticed Mia's already immense stomach looking simply enormous, as it must have grown by at least two inches. These two inches put it dangerously close to bursting out of her outfit. "Do you want to go gamble and try to pick up some studs?" Julia asked Mia. Mia nodded while staring down at Julia's own titanic gut, which was somehow tucked into her pale-white dress. Julia was smiling, and her grin never faded for their entire fourteen-day stay, which had been extended by a few extra days due to them still enjoying themselves so much for the nonstop surplus of intoxicating alcohol, lavish buffets, and even marijuana, which the four friends had all tried for the first time and loved. The girls had even gotten hooked on a new type of low calorie chocolate that was almost too good to be low calorie. The girls were living on cloud nine until the last night of their fifteen-day vacation, when they were faced with quite a dilemma. Nothing fit them; anything that did fit made them look frankly fat. It would be obvious to most, but the constant supply of drinks, food, and weed would lead anyone to pack on the pounds, even with all the walking around the strip and downtown Vegas and the dancing at lively clubs. Even constant love-making would not burn enough calories for them to maintain their weight. No, they all had unknowingly gained weight, even Hazel, who was upset. 137 pounds was what the scale told Hazel. 7 pounds didn't seem like much, especially considering everyone else must have at least gained a pound a day. The more concerning part was the fact that Hazel's muscles seem to have retreated, while a very minuscule layer of flab had sprouted almost all over her prized body, especially on the waistline. She resented the fact that a small roll bulged out of her waistline whenever she sat down or polished off way more than she should. She told herself it was just a lack of time in the gym, and she would get her body back into its prime in no time. Truthfully, she still looks ravishing to most people in the same red dress that she wore on their first night out. The dress was just more constricting, which only added to her allure. The same could not be said about the other three. "Nothing I own fits! We shouldn't have trusted the hotel with any laundry." June complained about trying to shimmy her significantly thicker thighs into her biggest pair of leggings, which she always recalled being loose. The four girls were currently in the same hotel room, attempting to find an outfit for their last dinner reservation at the most lavish buffet at the hotel. June soon gave up the leggings and picked up a nearby chocolate bar, which she hastily devoured. "My clothes still fit; I think it's time for you to face reality. You just fattened up like a pig. Even now, you are stuffing your face with some chocolate." Hazel replied, grinning rudely and shoving June to the bathroom, where June really observed and scrutinized herself for the first time since they landed. June seemed to be in disbelief with her heavier body and decided to step on a scale, hoping that maybe she was just overreacting. She wasn't; the fifteen days in Vegas brought 16 pounds to June, bringing her weight to an unfathomable 141 pounds for the girl who had prided herself on being a skinny little wallflower. "What happened to me?" June sounded more dejected than ever. The young lady had always maintained the temple of her body at around 100 to 110 pounds. Sure, she had put on some weight after moving in with Mia, but that weight gain was more gradual, and she was aware of her body thickening. This time, she hadn't noticed her stomach expanding inch by inch with each passing day as she binged freely on all the booze and food that she could dream of while making sweet love to her girlfriend. It was Mia's fault; she was always eating. Sure, June liked seeing her girlfriend getting bigger and plumper by the day, but she was not a fan of her own body expanding. Mia was the reason she was almost past the threshold of skinny fat to just plain chubby. Her lower body had again taken the brunt of the damage, as her thighs were dangerously close to touching with how thick and jiggly they had gotten. Her posterior, too, seemed simply out of this world, as each check had almost doubled in size, but her belly still took the cake. It had swelled out to around three distinct rolls of blubber that stretched out almost four inches each. June wasn't just upset; she was livid at Mia. "Mia! Come here now!" June demanded, and Mia complied anxiously. "Yes, why are you so upset?" Mia asked as she barged into the restroom in only a tight pair of underwear and a way too small bra. "You made me fat!" June cooed as Mia simply shrugged. "I think all the food that you've been pigging out on made you fat." Mia replied. "Look, I still think you're pretty, but you should take it easy on the desserts." "I love the bitch who is pushing so close to 180 pounds of pure blubber that's almost obese!" A true statement, as Mia had packed on 15 pounds during her tenure at Vegas, making her 177 pounds of pure, unadulterated fat. The pounds showed everywhere, especially around her breasts and arms, which had both ballooned in size. Mia's chest had expanded to nearly bursting out of her new E-cup bras, making her feel more comfortable with her added weight, even with her jelly belly expanding. "Girls, stop fighting!" Julia entered the bathroom to the sight of three friends bigger than she realized, including Hazel, who had always been so fit. "We are here to have fun. Who cares if we put on weight? You can always lose if you want, but tell me, is it really worth it? What's more fun than slaving away at the gym and restricting yourself from eating what you want to impress strangers that they don't even know?" The girls all turned, thinking that Julia was making some sense, even the vain Hazel. "My weight has been tethering like a seesaw my entire life. The more I think about it, the more fun I realize I have when I'm just enjoying myself, eating and drinking to my heart's content. Yes, I should be exercising more and probably should cut back on the booze and weed, but I'm done losing weight. I'm okay with this." Julia gulped, facing the mirror and seeing her reflection. Julia was bigger; she had packed 14 pounds since coming to Vegas, putting her at an obese 200 pounds. She definitely looked obese to most, with her face finally rounding out and her second chin apparent at almost all angles. Her arms were thick with jiggly fat, while her bosoms had also grown to be plump and jiggly, just big enough for Mia's old E-cup bras. Her stomach was one round ball of globular fat that stuck out nearly 6 inches; its soft girth was simply teeming with squishy blubber. The same could be easily said about her thick thighs, which didn't have any ounce of muscle on them, or her immense buttocks, which struggled to fit into size 12 leggings. She was big; she knew she was big, and she was okay with it. "She's right, who cares about how big we are? Let's just enjoy our last meal in Vegas, even if we have to go eat in sweats." Mia replied. "I guess I can enjoy one more meal, but after that, I'm going on a diet. At least we can still enjoy the low-calorie chocolates, right?" June said this with her tummy rumbling in anticipation of food. "I'll join. Don't worry, June; I can help with your diet. I have these amazing diet protein shakes that melt away your excess fat in no time, and those diet chocolates will definitely help with your cravings." Hazel smiled, wondering how fat everyone would get, as she knew that those chocolate bars could not be low-calorie, just like her protein shakes. The world was going to be beyond fat in no time.

Mature Content

Mature Content

Matilda Swaps Goals: 23/30 (WG),Why Margery would visit an ice cream parlour, of all places in this city, is a question that tangles itself around her mental ankle and pulls her subconscious down the cracks of its unresolved contradictions until two days later, when it’s time to prepare for the weekend’s game, and she is finally given a distraction that isn’t just playing Football Manager and snacking on shortbread biscuits, cheese soufflé, gourmet yoghurt packs, chocolates, muffins, and various other caloric bombshells.The Purple Vale Strikers are entering their thirteenth consecutive match week of the season against the Riselda Cats, who, that Saturday, turn up in their black and pink uniforms to challenge them at their home grounds. The Cats had been subtly booked-in by locals as favourites to win outright – but in a contradictory spark of magic, things turn out differently for once.The game kicks off, and almost immediately descends into a deadlock. The two teams suffocate each other with constant pressure and attacking runs that are neutered faster than anyone can get the ball past the first line of defence, quickly devolving into a scrappy match of missed shots, clogged passing lanes and scuffed kicks. Matilda’s heart throbs under the effort and shame narrows her vision as it becomes that much more obvious how far behind she’s left her athletic ability, somewhere back at home, beneath all those boxes, wrappers and plastic trays.Last year she would have been able to break the deadlock and influence play in their favour with the deft flick of a faked shot that sends a defender the wrong way and then bomb through the defence line. Tonight, though, her body’s momentum refuses to switch directions at a moment’s notice like it used to, insisting on lagging a split second behind her best efforts to change it, and every lunging step of her sprint sends a new jolt up her legs. It’s not long before she’s blowing chunks from her lungs sprinting just halfway up the pitch.It’s all too clear, now, she understands, having to slow down and gulp lungfuls of air with her hands on her knees. It’s not her ability she’s lost. Not her knowledge, nor her intuition. Not even her skillset. What she’s lost is her fitness. Her agility.To get her body to do whatever she asks it to do, for a concentrated, sustained period of time, is no longer hers to take for granted. What she had, there, is beginning to disappear.Halftime arrives like the deliverance of some biblical advent of grace she thought would never arrive, and she literally hits the wall of the change room with her back, chest heaving, sliding down like a wet rag until her backside hits the floor. The girls try their best not to stare at her.When they run back out onto the pitch, she walks with legs so stiff with lactic acid it feels like someone else is moving them for her, as if the connection between her legs and her mind has been severed. Her thighs feel bloodless and invisible as she wobbles up and down the pitch in chase of the play, none of her teammates looking to pass to her except when they’ve got no other choice.Each minute groans past the next, one by one, as the game proceeds from one agonising play to the next. It’s like waiting for paint to dry to put the next coat on, and the next, and the next, and the…Out of a sudden nowhere, there comes a desperate goal, followed by another, and then two in retaliation – Purple Vale 2, then Cats 2. Then at the eighty-seventh minute, Matilda finds herself lagging behind the rest of the team who have packed themselves into the opposition’s 18-yard box after a bout of sustained pressure. She floats behind everybody, aimlessly crabbing left and right so she looks busy, in truth hyperventilating as she watches and hopes others do the hard work.It’s a high-intensity passage of play, right now, with the Cats squashed like sardines into their goal square trying to stop a shot from slipping in, Matilda’s team passing around and around until somebody finds a gap to exploit. Then an enemy defender lunges forward to block a pass, but scuffs it wide. The ball spits out of play towards Mandy, who sticks her leg out so far she has to land on her ass and hands… But the ball skids just beyond the read of her toes, and comes rolling out across the patch of grass in front of Matilda. All heads turn towards her as if they’d forgotten she was even there, and two nearby Cats girls are already turning to sprint at her.Twenty yards ahead of her, the goal posts are a bright white rectangle, the leftmost portion of the net as open as a hungry cavity, left by a goalkeeper still trying to get a line of sight on the ball’s confused location. Matilda is launching on instinct. She leaps towards the ball, plants her left foot in its path, bringing thirty pounds more weight than she’s used to down on her ankle, pulls her right leg back and swings her foot down against the ball, wrapping the inside of her boot around its bottom hemisphere and sending it arcing right up over everyone’s heads, curling left, and down into the top corner of the net, shortly followed by the goalie’s desperate green glove reaching for it, too late.The back of the net ripples and the girls all scream in celebration, turning to run towards Matilda. All except Elisha and Margery. The icey-eyed captain looks towards the goal official to make sure there’s no foul, then looks across at Margery, who simply stands with her arms crossed and an expression of sensible, contained pleasure on her face. But it’s flattened by disregard. She cannot afford to feel happiness, of course – not when her most hated player is still huffing and puffing on the field.The girls run in and surround Matilda, yelling and laughing, grabbing her hands and pulling her into a hug. She stands in the middle of it all, getting rocked and bumped around, half stunned by the feat of instinctive technique she’d just pulled off. She can feel her midsection bumping into their hard bodies, and it makes her want to writhe into a puddle of embarrassment.Feeling a smile grow on her face nonetheless, she lets the girls knock her about like a ship in the wind, then stumbles and winces as her left ankle shouts pain at her attention. As the girls disperse and jog away one by one, celebrations giving way to resuming play, Matilda reaches down to feel her lower leg. There’s a spot on the back of her neck upon which she can feel Margery’s eyes glaring at her. She flexes her left ankle, and feels it twinge with a round, deep pain. She’s definitely done something to it. Hiding a grimace, she straightens her back and returns to her starting position with the rest of the girls, her walk developing into a small limp that she has to conceal by pretending she’s skipping.The last five minutes go by like a fever dream of rushed attacks and panicked defensive manoeuvres before the official makes the whistle screech, and the girls let out a shout of relieved victory. Purple Vale Strikers 3 - 2 Riselda Cats. The teams mingle and shake hands before departing. Matilda can barely breathe, her lungs are so sore. Evangeline and Mandy come over to pat her on the shoulder and congratulate her, faces falling into a fraction of doubt as they realise how out of breath she is.In the locker room, there is an atmosphere of sensible, contained excitement, with the girls chatting happily and sharing bouts of laughter here and there for what feels like the first time all year. As usual, Margery cannot stand to be anywhere near Matilda, and keeps her distance across the other side of the room.But later on, when Matilda is on her way out of the club, Margery finds a way to corner her like a rat.‘You may have scored the winning goal,’ the manager says without giving Matilda a chance to recover from being startled, ‘but at what cost?’But Margery doesn’t even wait for a response, her eyes flat and grey as lost coins.‘At what cost, Matilda? At the cost of enjoying a Sunday stroll with yourself across the back line? For the entire game? You seem to forget I see you. You were lucky, understand. You almost caused us to concede– yet again– and lose another three points from our standing in the season. You were lucky to find yourself in the right place at the right time, and be given, essentially, what was, in reality, a free kick. Hmm? You should have scored from that. I think you know this. You were lucky. Lucky to still be here, at this club, I’d think. I never believed anyone could get so out of shape in such a short amount of time, but here I am, learning that it’s possible. What did I tell you the last time we had this conversation, Matilda? What did I say about this specifically?’Margery’s hand descends, coming forth, almost reaching down to Matilda’s overfed middle – the ovular shape of which seems to be sticking out in her blue-grey tank top, the fabric tighter than usual. Something unreadable, and entirely out of place, moves like the shade of a passing cloud across Margery’s eyes, and she holds her hand back. She clasps her hands behind her back, becoming cold and contemplative.‘Never mind. Never mind what I said. You heard what I had to say to you. I have said it countless times now. It was all I needed to spend my energy on. Don’t make me spend more, Matilda.’ Then she scowls. ‘I’m so sick of looking at you.’ And with that, swoops around her cornered body and stalks away, off into the facility’s corridors.. . .‘I think… I think Margery was going to touch my belly today,’ she says to Carlile as they laze in their underwear together on the lounge. She has her head on his shoulder as she speaks.He screws his face up. ‘She what?’‘I think she tried to feel my stomach. It was weird. I mean, I know I look chubby enough to poke like a balloon, but I never thought something like that could happen… And I was still out of breath, like all drained after the match, which probably means I wasn’t paying attention. It’s happened to me a couple times now, I think. Like, I’ll forget that I need to suck in, and it’ll make me look fatter. It… sucks.’‘She really did that?’ Carlile frowns, a strange, troubled expression dirtying his brow. ‘That’s really strange…’‘I know.’ She lowers her eyes to her stomach. Lying up against him with her torso angled at a sideways twist, the soft bulge of her belly slopes sideways. Bribed by her curiosity, she sucks it in and pushes it out a few times, watching it retract and grow, retreat and expand, then gives it a poke so that her fingernail sinks down, deep, pressing even deeper than her buried abdominal muscles. She watches as her fingertip gets folded away in between two slopes of pudge. ‘But I was thinking,’ she wonders, moving her idle hand away, laying it to rest upon Carlile’s knee and caressing him, ‘remember the story your uncle Trevor told about her? About Margery? Maybe she’s triggered by me, or something. If it’s true she used to struggle with her weight, and all, then…’He peers down at her. ‘Is she like that?’‘You mean triggerable? You only need to get yelled at by her once to know. But she was chubby, once. If it was that traumatic for her… maybe never moved past it. Felt like she failed. The Margery I know is stone cold most of the time. Like, you’d think she’s a walking dead woman. But then she freaks out over the smallest things, like she’s built up all this pressure in herself– maybe I remind her of when she used to look like this, and she pops. Like I’m gonna pop if I keep fucking eating like this.’An awkward moment of silence from Carlile.Matilda rolls her eyes up at the ceiling. ‘Oh my god! Will you stop that already! I’m trying to lose this thing now anyway, remember?’ She underscores the declaration with a firm pat on her stomach, feeling the fleshy surface around her belly button jitter with a terse wobble that she doesn’t bother moving her eyes to look at like she usually would.No response from Carlile.She can sense him letting out air with uneasy slowness, like a balloon with a microscopic hole in it.‘What is up with you?’ she asks.He exhales fully. ‘I find it weird– Margery doing that.’‘I know,’ she sighs, ‘I know,’ running her hand up his thigh until it meets his hip. ‘So do I.’ Her eyes fall to his waist, and she sees that the underside of his belly has started to fill up and come over the drawstrings of his shorts.. . .The team’s next match, away against Kilamanara FC, is as scrappy as a match can get, and resolves in a 1 - 1 draw, with neither team producing much quality. At the halftime whistle, Matilda can barely play any longer, plonking her backside on the grass to gasp for air before gathering enough strength in her legs to stand back up and stumble back to the change rooms.Margery avoids coming anywhere near Matilda, and her teammates glance at her with eyes that attempt to disguise pity behind something unreadable. Everyone is secretly holding at bay feelings of disappointment that she hasn’t matched last week’s surprise goal.When it’s time to return to the pitch, she lets herself be the last one out, gathering a few final breaths of rejuvenation. But Ilda comes marching along and pulls her up by the arm, slapping her lightly across the cheek. ‘Straighten yourself out!’Ilda’s bark bounces off the ceramic walls, causing the last of the girls to scamper out of the room at an accelerated trot. Nobody wants to be around to hear what they know is coming. Matilda stands on weak legs, feeling deserted.‘Listen to me,’ Ilda pleads, her thin eyebrows pinching upwards into the middle of her forehead. ‘You must do something about zhis!’ splaying her fingers with helpless anger at Matilda’s body. ‘You need to fix zhis. You are letting the team down. Over, zhen over again. How can you not see? She is fürious– Margery is fürious– do you understand what I tell you?’ The coach looks into Matilda’s eyes. ‘You will be kicked from the club, Matilda!’The night air outside is cold as death. It makes her skin feel dry. She makes her way back out onto the pitch in a state of moodless neutrality, abstracted from her emotions. It’s been happening more and more, each time hell comes down on her like this. She can’t feel their rage fully anymore, the edges turned blunt from overuse. She can only see their faces contort, watch the tirade spill out like a landslide she knows the start, middle and end of already in advance, and simply wait in subdued silence until it’s over – she watches their lips peel, mouths eject spittled words, teeth flash, noses tense with disgust, eyes wide open and ringed with lines of fury. Twenty minutes into the second half of play, she actually gets substituted off for Rhianna Crossman. Being swapped out like this has never happened before. The only time she’s ever been subbed in her career at the club was a year and a half ago when she was feeling ill, a separate time when she was sick again, and then a year before that when they were leading by seven goals, four of them hers, winning so comfortably that Kendra had given her and a few others an early rest. So at home with playing the full ninety minutes is she, that when the ball goes out of the play from a pinched kick, and coach Karen starts yelling out from the sidelines, it takes Matilda far too long until she realises the name being called is her own.She looks over her shoulder, confused, and sees both Karen and Ilda beckoning with their hands for her to come off the pitch urgently. Their faces are tense with frustration, and Rhianna is standing beside them jumping up and down on her heels nervously to warm up. When Matilda comes close, Rhianna leans into a run and sprints past, while Matilda trots out on knees that feel like concrete hinges. She barely pays attention to Karen criticising her efforts as she walks past the bench and down the corridor, with the sounds of the game fading behind her, and into the changerooms where she can catch her breath in peace.Nobody is in here with her. The reverberations of her panting bounce off the walls, booming back into her ears. Once she’s caught her breath, she decides to simply sit and wait, incredibly still, almost buddhist in her silence. She hears the final whistle blow from outside, and sits like a rock among rushing water as everyone filters back inside to change in an apathetic mood..At night, as she drives through the city, it is so peaceful in all its irrelevant business and leisurely commotion that it makes her want to stop by the river that cuts through the metropolitan parklands, find a place to sit at its banks, watch ducks waddle past in silence, and cry.Back home in the solitary safety of her bed, she becomes inexplicably aware of her ankle all of a sudden. She rolls it around and feels it yelp in pain. She must have injured herself again, without knowing. Or maybe compounded the same damage from last week when she landed on her ankle after kicking that last-minute winner.Despite all the things Ilda had yelled at her today during half-time, and all the threats of expulsion from the team over the months, Margery has never followed through. Nor has Matilda received any calls or messages about it. If it was ever going to happen, she would have found out by now.What she does know is that it’s all become an impossible knot. She knows she’s weighing the team down. She can feel it, not only as a figure of speech, but physically, all over her body. Perhaps she’s already reached the limits of Margery’s loathing, and to make the manager hate her any deeper while still being kept on the team is like asking a balloon to hold fast against the press of a needle.What is there left to do?She contemplates Margery’s hidden past. The failure imbued in it. The self-loathing oozing out into the rest of the woman’s life. The level of hatred the manager has for Matilda is probably less to do with her efforts than her physical form – a living reminder of Margery’s own failures, her own loss, her own punctured dreams.So therein lies the answer of what to do, Matilda thinks.Remind her. Frighten her. Scare her with fatness.Taunt her with living images of her past. Make her crumble under the weight of her fatphobia. Drive her kicking and screaming away into the night from whence she came like a vampire under the approach of a rising sun.. . .The beeping phone alarm screams straight into her ear canal early the next A.M., a gunshot of adrenaline directly into her nervous system. When she wrestles her eyes open, the pillow against her cheek feels damp, and so does her hair. The act of rolling over to push herself up delivers a rush of blood to her head that takes a moment to depart. Her blurry vision slowly sharpens to the sight of half-eaten packets and wrappers; the same ones she now remembers accompanied her to bed last night before she’d turned the lights out and been woozed into an aching post-binge coma.Something about the grey, washed-out flatness of the morning’s drizzly light holds her captive to seeing things with melancholic honesty, with nowhere to hide from truth. Leaning forward to gingerly touch the plastic wrapping, she cannot dodge the confession; she’s betrayed her willpower again. How many times now? This has been happening every day. Snacking, eating a meal, snacking, then eating a full meal, and then snacking again on the pretence of “hunger”. But she isn’t even sure she knows what it is to feel hunger anymore – there’s just this vague feeling that something is not there inside of her. Anything could be “hunger”. She could push a whole parmigiana down into her stomach, and the moment the smallest pinch of it gets funnelled along, her body would detect the absence and “hunger” would rush in to fill the void. Having cemented a habit of over-consumption on a never ending basis has probably skewed her body’s rader so far off balance that if she had one breakfast, lunch and dinner, it would feel like starving. It would feel like wartime rations. It would leave her jonesing in the dust of starvation for the first bit of food she lays her eyes on? Would she salivate at the mere sound of the word “food”?With a cynical grunt, she slides off her bed and hops up onto bare feet, sensing her waistline react with a terse jiggle. She cringes. Is this recent? Well, everything is recent — it’s a question of how recent. She’s been discovering changes in such rapid succession that it’s becoming difficult to place changes on a timeline of discernible events. Down the hallway in the bathroom, the window is open just a crack, letting in a cold but calm breeze. She stands on her tiptoes to pull it shut, then drops back down on her heels, a shockwave shooting up the back of her thighs and her torso. She won’t look in the mirror, this time. There’s no point to it. She already knows all there is to know.But, feeling her thoughts suddenly plunge deep into curiosity, she does shoot a glance down at the cupboard containing the scales. She stares at it with a distractedly doubtful frown, and after a moment of slack-jawed indecision, squats down to retrieve the scales. She chews on her upper lip and peers over her shoulder to make sure the door is closed for privacy, then rises, and steps up onto the ricketty plastic square. After a moment of needle-wagging calibration, the dial condemns Matilda’s body to 180 lbs of gravity.She takes a sharp breath with a bolt of shock that hits her in the jaw hinges like a child’s first sugar-high, washing through her face, into her chest, down into the soles of her feet. Quick mental maths tells her she’s somehow three pounds heavier. Fantastic. Three butter-blocks’ worth of fat, welcomed straight back onto her body, just like that, seemingly overnight.Shoving the scales back into the cupboard, sending them out of sight like an embarrassing photograph, she gives the fat on her body an experimental pinch through her pyjama shirt, trying to see if she can tell where those returned pounds have shown up. But it’s all too ambiguous.Back in her room, she finds all her clothes except the new outfits she bought last week are tight. Muttering one swear-word after another under her breath, she cycles through all her pieces of clothing until she finds something that fits — but item after item becomes stuck, to varying degrees, on different areas of her body, and they all end up chucked into a resentful pile on the carpeted floor.But she’s done this to herself. It’s a fact she knows as well as what day it is. There were days, not far over her shoulder chronologically, when her body looked like a glove wrapped on bone structure and muscle, when she was as fit as a leaping gazelle… a time when her breasts were almost half the size they are now… a time when her ass didn’t take up nearly an entire seat’s padding… a time when it was so rare to think about her belly that she barely knew she had one. Now it sticks out from her with a small gravitational mass of its own, with obnoxious, round geometry; a semi-sphere of soft skin suffused with sensitive nerve endings she is able to gently run her hands across, and shudder at the warm ooze of feeling and sensation that proliferates across it…It’s possible to starve and exercise her weight back down. But it’s just as possible to let it go, and watch it continue to grow, simply by… doing nothing. Left to its own momentum, her body is going to grow.The thought chills her entire body, just as much as it excites her… scares the living shit out of her as much as it intrigues her. It feels like a sign that says “Do Not Touch” in capitalised lettering so offensively bold and red that you could not miss even if you tried – but you cannot stop yourself from ignoring the command. That one thing you’ve been told not to do, just makes you want to all the more..At around ten o’clock later that day, her shift with Dr Goodwynn at the clinic results in a sort of miniature counselling lecture. Must have been something in the way Matilda carried herself into the building that morning — perhaps a subconscious drooping of her shoulders, a subtle dodging of eye contact, clasping her hands — that eventually triggers Dr Goodwynn’s body-language detector, diverting that magnanimous woman into her therapist-mode.Without realising it, Matilda has been sitting in her chair like a bag of sand, even as she watches Dr Goodwynn speak and gesticulate with a black pen. Never eschew someone’s words when their hands and an object mediate their words and your ears – their thoughts hold enough meaning to need a conduit for translation.But Matilda cannot give the entire scope of her attention to what Dr Goodwynn is saying. Her low spirits make her feel drugged and foggy, leaving her too dull in the mind for anything too philosophical at the moment. From the few pieces she pays attention to, it’s Dr Goodwynn’s idea that we are all burdened with a “self”. Something about how it’s a “cosmic tragedy” to have an “identity” at all. Something about how sad it is that we have to endure the feeling of self-inflicted shame — “if ” we choose to.But all these ideas are bleeding into one, lately, like spilled paint. All the coaches’ shouting, all the criticism, all the averted eyes of peers — even the helpful diatribes of a benevolent mentor such as the Doctor herself… It’s all different shades of the same grey sludge. She’s heard it all before. Nobody can say anything she hasn’t already thought about herself.By the time day’s closure rolls in, Dr Goodynn’s words have the opposite of their intended effect. What occurs – far from the spiritual liberation Dr Goodwynn wanted to send Matilda in the direction of – is instead a renewed falling sensation.When Matilda gets home, she decides she must begin starving herself. Much to her surprise, she actually manages to do it for longer than she expects.. . .A few days of eating nothing but bare basics go by. Matilda never knew hunger could hurt. She skips breakfast entirely, has a lunch so small that it could be folded into the size of a baseball, and makes sure to have no more than one serve of the risotto her dad cooks for dinner. The waves of hunger are so intense that they begin creeping into the realms of stabbing sensation.Through the week, her mood takes a head-first dive, tainting everything around her with a stain of acidic irritation. Anything unexpected makes her feel pissed off. Loud or sudden sounds make her want to yell at whoever made them. Things that don’t look right seem purposefully arranged in such a way as to bother her, as if their creator knew what to or not to include in the arrangement to make it look stupid. In her more reflective moments, she knows Carlile is suffering for it, undeservedly. But then, when the hunger hits again, she’s suddenly in the wrong mood to even think about formulating an apology.By the end of the week, a night spent in her bed by herself sends her into the bathroom, unable to fall asleep due to an uncunabating swirl of agitation mixing her chest’s parts into themselves. It’s late at night, well past the a.m., and the hallway’s carpet feels cool beneath her feet. She feels her way along the walls into the tiled bathroom and its blindingly cold light. If starving herself is going to bring such out-of-character bouts of instability, then she needs to know the results are coming along with it. She needs a reason to keep putting herself through this soul-wrecking self-abuse.When she steps onto the scales, she locks her fingers and fidgets as she waits for the number. One-eighty. Just. She expels a lungful of air she didn’t even know she was holding and pleads thanks to the ceiling with such gratitude that the bathroom walls might as well be the stained glass windows of a cathedral.She steps back onto the scale once more, just to be sure, then packs it away back under the basin.So, that’s almost five days with no visible increase in her weight. No loss, but no gain. She looks down at herself, then collects two handfuls of her belly, measuring them in her grip. For the first time in weeks, this mass of blubbery matter hasn’t grown. It’s just stayed the same, frozen like a dog waiting for its next instruction.If she can just stop herself from eating a little longer, and force her stomach capacity to shrink so her appetite begins demanding smaller and smaller portions, then maybe the growth of her belly won’t just stop – it might even begin to reverse.When that happens, she’ll know she’s succeeded.. . .When she arrives at training, she’s late again. Not out of lethargy and laziness, this time, but out of stubborn belligerence. Even though the blubber is about to leave her body, Matilda knows her message cannot afford to go nowhere: the message that she does not want Margery at her club. Never has, never will.An excruciating hunger eats away at her insides as she parks her car and slips into the back corridor of the facility as stealthy as possible, poking her head through the door of the locker rooms to look around and make sure nobody’s around. It’s just her.The tiled walls echo softly as she opens her locker and takes out her folded training kit; the purple shirt, the ivory white shorts and socks of the club. Holding the familiar shirt up before her eyes, she takes a moment to exult in the grandness of its meaning. The emblem. The number 18 on the back and the sleeves. The particular lines and shades of its design.On the outer seam of the shorts, she spots a loose thread. If that splits any further, it could unravel all the way down the line. It’s something she can fix by asking admin to order a new pair – but the subject of waist measurements and new clothing is not something she wants to talk to anybody about. Not right now. Maybe when she’s thinner again.Bending over to slip her feet into the shorts, she lifts them up over her knees, up her thighs, until finally – at this far end of a quest to accumulate flesh around her hips – she feels the elastic band reach the end of its stretch. It’s opened as wide as it can go. When she lets go, it grabs her just below her upper hips, cutting into her body’s softness. Every last fold and rumple in the shorts’ fabric has tightened into a series of sharp creases; nothing much remains for the growing circumference of her thighs. She can feel the back end seam cutting into the three-point intersection under the rear of her groin and her ass cheeks.After putting the shirt over her head, she finds herself tugging the hem down multiple times, unable to rid herself of the feeling that something isn’t sitting right. Inside the locker’s door is a small, dingy mirror that she hasn’t looked at in probably as many days as pounds she’s gained. Biting the corner of her lower lip, she pulls the door open wide and angles it so she can see her reflection.The structure of her belly is so obvious that she could use it to create a sculpting cast. It bulges into the space left in the front of the shirt, the dark purple fabric matching the spherical slope of her paunch at nearly a direct 1:1 ratio.And what’s going on up here? She rolls her shoulders, testing the fit; even the sleeves are beginning to grip under her shoulders. The merest two or three extra pounds would be enough to cause her upper arms to develop bulges around her sleeve-ends.Matilda sits down on the bench beside her locker and rubs her eyes. She takes a few slow, unsteady breaths she’s not sure she can call anxiety. She feels more abstract, more amazed.Anyway, it’s temporary. It’s going to shrink back to nothing. She simply has to be patient.Returning herself to the present, she puts on her shin guards and socks, then laces her boots. When she jogs out onto the pitch, Elisha can barely conceal her disgust. Margery doesn’t look at her, nor share a word with her, even as she barks orders at the other girls. The manager’s hair is different, today, all uncombed and agitated by the air into a cloudy frizz of dirty silver.The sky is blue and cool, with a few clouds passing over a distant sun – and yet she can’t make it even halfway through the training session without dipping out for a spell so her body can catch up with what she’s asking of it. A part of her actually expected things to be easier since she stopped gaining weight, and now she feels like an idiot. Nothing has actually changed yet.The only difference is that she finds it easier to ignore the stares of Margery and the coaches, those owl-sharp eyes pinned to her body as she jiggles around the pitch, panting loud enough for everybody to hear, and pausing every two minutes to wipe her brow as sweat drips down into her eyes and from the end of her nose. It’s all become second-nature, now. A well rehearsed act she is able to flip on like a switch in front of an audience.During a break in the change rooms, Elisha approaches her in an unprecedented act of good nature. Any other day, Matilda would cast a sceptical eye on this out-of-character kind of surprise – but her lungs are too empty, her legs too sore and her thoughts too scrambled to arrange any kind of question and ask what the fuck this acting serenade is about.‘Hey,’ Elisha gives her a bashful little wave of greeting that is so clearly fake it makes Matilda want to punch herself in the eyes. ‘So… I thought you did really good out there today. I know, I know. I’m sorry for being such a bitch sometimes. But I thought you might want these?’ She opens her bag to let Matilda see inside. ‘My boyfriend packs too many snacks for me – I’m trying to offload them, you know how it is. I was wondering if you wanted any?’When Matilda sees the food, she nearly folds over herself beneath a bomb of hunger, her spirit collapsing like a thousand tons of rubble inside her stomach. Elisha opens the bag a little wider still, forcing the snacks further into Matilda’s line of sight. She gestures for her to reach in. Without thinking, Matilda shoves her hand in and grabs a donut and a few custard tarts wrapped in brown and clear packaging, then sits back down, food in hand, and finds herself deeply unsure what to do with the items now that she has them. She doesn’t even want them, really.An artillery shell of self-awareness cracks down over her head. Tight-lipped and cynical, she twists around and shoves them away in her own bag, then looks back up at Elisha to offer a hesitant, confused, and entirely unfelt, “Thanks!”But Elisha has already turned her back and walked away across the room.Matilda glances down at her bag and frowns, sneering. Why would Elisha decide to come over and talk to her like some dopey school girl who just wants to be everyone’s friend? Why the sudden shift? It’s not as if the apology was real. It makes Matilda wonder how much malicious intent is at play.Hunger rocks her body. She can feel it in her arms and legs – in the curling tips of her fingers. She feels a murderous headlong drive. She could kill Elisha. But she needs to kill this hunger first. Kill it so it doesn’t come back. She needs to sustain her self-starvation with a hard, deliberate smack on the wrist of her nervous system.Pulling her gaze away from where she was staring, Matilda decides to throw Elisha’s snacks in the bin the moment she gets home. She can’t even look at the snacks without her fingers being tempted to twitch slowly in their direction.On the way to the restroom for a quick visit, however, who else but Ilda should stop and corner her, yet again, redirecting her to Margery’s office for another “private word”. Bowing her head, Matilda visits the toilet, then re-hoists her duffel bag on her shoulder, and sets off for Margery’s office.The administration wing of the club’s facility had been constructed in the ‘80s – something you can tell by the walls’ reddish brown brickwork and functionalist architecture that makes you feel like you’re walking through a Baptist church rather than a football club facility. She remembers a few times in past years when she’d seen delegates from various sponsor companies visiting this end of the facility, standing and talking in suits and ties and polished shoes, but not really knowing the first thing about the sport they were sponsoring. Only the physical education staff from the university affiliated with this club know what they’re talking about, but even their interests are angled slightly elsewhere. She wanted to ask Kenda, when she was still here, whether she thought sponsorships were even necessary. Margery seems to think they are.Some of the walls were painted a light grey, some time five or so years back. Dragging her fingers along the brickwork, feeling each divot and groove of mortar, Matilda wonders if she should be doing so in a manner of savouring the moment. What if this is it? Will this be the day? Is Margery about to cut her lifeline? A week after being substituted in the middle of a game for the first time in her playing career?But no. By the time Matilda comes to stand in the doorway, she is simply made to listen while Margery verbally beats on her, then comes round for a second attack just for good measure. Matilda listens with a blank stare of tired distance. Maybe it’s just for Margery’s own sense of fun, at this point. An opportunity to let a valve burst in catharsis. She can’t even figure out what the manager’s problem is, this time. Then, all at once, she remembers how she saw Margery at the ice cream parlour. Remembers the way her gunmetal grey plume of hair had appeared in the queue. Remembers that tall, overly lean, giraffe-like poise of body, waiting in line for that one particular treat packed with so much fat and sugar that just one bite would have sent her BMI sliding one atom at a time towards the heavier end, where, as a young girl, she'd almost drowned in the failure chubbiness had brought down upon her.Matilda watches the hypocrisy ooze from Margery as she blathers some incoherent drivel about being disappointed in her.So why go get ice cream, of all things? If nothing else, it must have been a slip up. A slip of willpower. What else could force Margery Hartwell to contradict the seemingly omnipotent powers of her fatphobia, except the very last dregs of desperation? Maybe the club is finally doing something to her head. Matilda feels this idea as an growing epiphany, dawning on her with a tumble of pleasure that injects adrenaline straight into her stomach. Now that she thinks about it, she notices Margery does look different — the way she sits with her shoulders forward, eyes withdrawn, her complexion a shockingly clayish shade.Margery's words blur into a muddy slew of soundbites as Matilda thinks of all the ways she could trigger her mental illness by standing here and letting herself look fat… look large… maybe let her belly stick out for added effect… maybe reach down and… maybe touch the underside of her bloated stomach and…‘Are you listening to me?’Matilda blinks, eyes dancing aside involuntarily.‘I see, then. I see how it is. Get out of the doorway. Come in– come in further. Further. I said further. Now get out of the doorway. Now why don’t you sit down, so you can listen to me properly. No not there–’ Feeling mischief sparkle behind her eyes, Matilda hesitates for a moment, then comes fully into Margery’s office and moves to one side against the wall where a chair sits beside a tall fig leaf plant that wasn’t there two weeks ago. Is Margery trying to make herself at home?Margery waves an impatient hand. ‘Hurry on, then. Do you think I have all day? You seem to have all day… and more. I do not.’Wishing she could scream the manager’s hypocrisy straight back into her face like a deflected jet of flame, Matilda makes an irritated sigh and sits down in the chair, looking up into the corner of the ceiling, refusing to make eye contact. The network of her stomach’s nerve-endings tell her that the tank top she’s wearing is a close fit, leaving her midsection’s paunchy form in the clear. The fact that she doesn't even have to look to make sure makes her feel a million ways she cannot even begin to analyse.‘Now,’ Margery collects herself. ‘I’d like to know if you listened to or heard a word of what I just said.’‘Yeah, I know.’Margery cocks her head, waiting for an answer. ‘And?’She shrugs. ‘Yeah– it’s cool.’Margery’s gaze intensifies. ‘It’s “cool”?’Matilda settles into the chair’s back, trying to make herself as visibly comfortable as possible, and gives off another large, lengthy shrug of careless ease. ‘Yeah,’ she says, simply.Then she harnesses all her sadistic energy before it disappears, and channels it into a self-derogatory display of shameful slobbishness she knows will make Margery want to either run or die.Letting out a laid-back, ‘Oof,’ Matilda lifts her arms up over her head and leans back to stretch her hands toward the ceiling. She feels the hem of her tank top do exactly what she’s learned it tends to do in situations like these, departing obediently from her trousers, rising as she arches her lower back, with her stomach pushed deliberately out. A small smirk twists the corner of her lips, and she has to smother it fast. She feels the skin of her underbelly, just above her sweatpants, come into contact with the room-temperature air. Then she expels her held breath in an effort to cover her smile, and lets her arms drop back down to her sides. The front of her tank top returns to rest, tucking itself across her paunch.Without looking, she knows her navel is suddenly out on show – a dark sinkhole indent with miniscule divots where her bellybutton becomes belly flesh. She knows that the bulk of her underbelly is a soft curve of pudge that pokes over her tightened drawstrings, a round band of blubber that wraps around the sides of her waist to meet the thin triangle of chub on her hips denoting lovehandles.And so Matilda sits like this, knowing how it must look.Sickened horror explodes from Margery’s face. Jerking backwards in her seat, her intense gaze falters momentarily as she looks at an empty spot on the wall beside Matilda’s head. She continues to ramble – this time mindlessly – as if speaking through layers of brick. But the conviction behind her words comes through a filter of distraction, and there is a ten-thousand yard stare in her slightly-parted eyes.‘Listen.’ Her lips press thin and tight, her face dark red. It’s odd how quiet Margery’s voice has become, given the explosive rage Matilda knows is ticking towards doomsday beneath it. ‘In two minutes, Matilda– two minutes,’ she says so low it’s almost a murmur, ‘we are going to enter a tactical overview session. We will be in room 2-A. We will be drawing up new defensive plans. I am informing you now, ahead of time, that I will be moving you to a centre-back position. You have…’ Margery presses her eyes, and sighs. ‘You have failed us too many times. Far too many. Your last chance is now. Now. Understand? Now get up.’Leaning forward, she feels the lip of her belly run into her lap… which gives her an idea…She rises from the chair with exaggerated force, then comes back down on her heels – and is pretty sure she can feel her belly complain with a light jiggle. Riding upon the surge of malicious glee poisoning in her heart, she even decides to make the most of the scene by allowing her stomach to relax as far forwards as it wants.Without looking, she can sense the bulge of blubber cushioning her navel swell out to match her breasts.But it was for nothing. Margery isn’t even looking at her anymore.‘Go,’ the manager snarls at her desk..In room 2-A, which in truth is simply a pretentious way for Margery to say “the conference room”, Matilda reverts back to cowering modesty the moment she passes under the doorframe, sucking her stomach way up into her ribcage. While she might possess the spite required to trigger Margery’s past traumas by being a slob in front of her and showing off her chubby she got – if she doesn’t behave herself in front of the girls, what’s left of her credibility will die like a popped balloon.Every player in the club, even those from the reserve team who have been called in, filter in one after the other to find somewhere to sit around a loosely-arranged set of tables facing the portable white board. Practically sucking her lungs up into her throat, Matilda places her bag across her lap to help cover her midsection, then glances around the room with dopey eyes as if nothing has happened.Once everybody has arrived and arranged themselves in their chairs, coach Karen and coach Ilda stand on either side of the tactical whiteboard, where they begin drawing badly-sketched defensive diagrams with black, red and blue markers, scribbling little circles and drawing arrows to indicate intended trajectories, positions and movements. The idea, they tell the girls in deeply condescending tones, is to adopt a brand-new defensive formation in order to wrangle their points deficit away from the sub-tens. It’s clear they won’t be ending this season in the top half of the table. Not anymore. From now on, they will keep a 5-2-2-1 formation, the middle player in the defensive line being a central agent who sweeps in out front of, and behind, the two centre backs. The coaches’ line-form diagram shows: ____________________Evangeline(CF)____________________ ____________Kelsey(LW)__________Elisha(RW)____________ ____________Beth(CM)____________Stacey(CM)___________Talina(LB)__Grace(CB)__Matilda(CB/DM)__Mandy(CB)__April(RB) ______________________ Nysha (GK)_______________________‘That’s a cluttered backline,’ Talina dares to observe.‘We have not much of a choice,’ Ilda says, flicking her eyes in Matilda’s direction.Karen points a finger at the five-player backline. ‘This is a terribly unfortunate necessity. We need a player to plug between the two centre backs, to crowd out attackers, to sweep the lanes in front, and be available for ball-recycling on corner kicks. And that player has to be you, please, Matilda– you are being called upon,’ Karen concludes with an ineffectual fling of the hand as if dismissing the importance of Matilda’s presence in the room before turning to facing the board again.Heads turn upon tired necks to look at her, then turn away again, in a pause of almost surreal silence.‘Talina and April…’ coach Ilda cuts in, pointing with a red marker at the two fullback positions on the diagram. ‘With five at zhe back, this of course means you will have some opportunity to press high and overlap when we are attacking. Do so if you feel the need– however… always remember that we are now reduced to a team which has at its disposal only counter attacks.’Matilda wriggles in her seat, trying to dispel a rebellious energy inside her coming to the boil. This won’t work. They’ll get steamrolled without any depth in midfield.Coach Karen clears a space on the other side of the board and begins to draw up an attack-phase formation.Kelsey_________Evangeline_________ElishaTalina_______Beth______Stacey______April_______Grace____Matilda ___ Mandy_____ ________________ Nysha_______________Karen takes the lead again, indicating various parts of the diagram. ‘So, if you look here; once the counter attack begins, we essentially go from a four to a three-line deep block. Talina and April, you can both run ahead to support Elisha and Kelsey. Beth and Stacey, maintain your positioning in line with the fullbacks, drop between your opponents, but squeeze into the centre lanes to make space for a ball through. Kelsey and Elisha, as our only mobile wingers, you must be on the constant lookout for any opportunity to break forward. I don’t care if it happens or not, just be ready please. Zig-zag backward and forward like idiots if you have to. If you do break out, don’t bother passing unless you must– we can’t waste any time– just sprint with the ball as hard as you can. Evangeline, sprint like your life depends on it and try to run in behind any defenders tracking your movements, and be ready to take the ball, and do your best from there. Matilda, stay back with Grace and Mandy, please, but spread out to create a wide triangle.’Matilda squeezes the straps of her bag in her fists. No. No, not at all. No. This is all wrong. She puts her hands on her face and presses her fingers into her eyes until stars and the aurora borealis begin to take form against the backs of her eyelids.‘Do you have a problem with that, then?’ Karen calls out to her.Lifting her head, Matilda blinks the glare from her eyes and looks around the room, seeing that the entire team’s attention is fixed upon her. Their faces look embarrassed. But as she stares for a moment longer, a layer peels back, and she realises they actually look confused. Helpless. Like soldiers whose expressions are sunken beneath the weight of a dread they cannot lift no matter how passionately their commander’s speech thrums the air… Because they all know it’s just a false, hopelessly optimistic rhetoric. Defeat waits at the end of every courageous attempt, a string of broken confidence as inevitable as the heat death of the universe.‘A problem?’ Matilda starts up. ‘Do I have a problem? Yes– I do, actually.’The fire behind her chest gutters under a cold gust of stage fright as she comes to her senses, seeing what she’s about to launch herself into like the approach of headlights coming in the opposite direction. But then her engine kicks back into life, and her thoughts begin to spew out her mouth.‘How are we meant to “become” a counter-attacking team, anyway? We already are a counter attacking team. It’s all we ever do. It’s all we’re set up for. And it’s still not working. It’s just not. Stop trying to tell me– tell us– that is. Or even can. I’m sick of hearing it.’Coach Ilda’s face remains fixed and studiously neutral, while Karen on the other hand raises her eyebrows in an almost amused display of surprise as Matilda goes on, feeling all the weight of her anger unfold like the brakes cut on a semi-trailer speeding ever faster downhill.‘I don’t understand why we can’t go back to playing a more passing and chance-creating type of game. We’re skilled enough. We have great players here. But we keep getting steam rolled, because we race the ball upfield so fast that we can’t keep up with each other– we’ve been given no other instructions but to just “run”– and then we lose track of each other, where we need to be, when we need to be– and then when something goes wrong, we get choked up inside the opposition’s half with no ideas, and the pressure builds up, and we buckle because our passing lanes are a blocked-off mess, and then they’re the ones counter attacking us! I mean what the fuck? Now you want us to be even more defensive? Parking the bus against the opponent? That is the worst. So we do it even more? Why? We’re not even playing the game anymore. Sit back with five of us doing absolutely nothing for the attack? Now, not only do we have literally no attacking pressure, but we don’t even have a midfield? Really? Is this serious? Oh, and reshuffling on the counter attack doesn’t mean we suddenly have an attacking presence out of nowhere, by the way. Does no one get that? Going from four lines to three in our block? Really? That means we go wide but lose depth, and one long ball over the top goes straight through us– and then not having any midfield puts so much pressure on the backline, I don’t know how you expect us to hold off that kind of pressure for ninety minutes without losing!’Karen blinks once, then twice, and then a third time, keeping her eyes shut as if to maintain composure. Ilda is staring straight at her, and the entire room is suffused with trembling, terrified spirits. When Karen opens her eyes, she stares at Matilda for a beat or two with a look of sneering aloofness in her eyes, then says, with utterly casual disdain, ‘Matilda… I’m sorry, but please… you couldn’t even sprint the full length of the pitch anymore.’A solid weight swings like an axe into her stomach. ‘Ex-cuse me?’ she retorts. ‘Yes I can.’A careless shrug. ‘Prove it.’She sucks in harder, even though nobody can see it. ‘I–’ ‘You what? You “can’t right now?” You “won’t let me treat you like that”? Do you want to stall, Matilda? You either sprint the length of the pitch and back, right now, or you don’t… No? So you’d prefer not to? M-hm. Right. That’s exactly what I thought. You see? You go and blow up into a fat pig of a thing in the span of four months, refuse our requests and demands to fix yourself, and then you ask “oh, why-this” and “why-that”? Well, I’ve got a “why” for you: why would you know what’s good for this team?’Cold heat fills her neck as she tries to come up with a response. But nothing surfaces. She’s spent her load all at once, and all that’s left is the jetstream of her anger blasting against a blank wall.‘Look at you,’ Karen begins to conclude. ‘You’re completely unfit for this game. Maybe you’ll shape back up one day– I’m not saying you won’t– but right now, if we’re taking any recommendations, then it won’t be from the likes of you. You’ve lost too much credibility. You’re a centre-back now, Matilda. You will sweep behind and in front of the defence. That’s how we’re playing from now on, please– and mostly thanks to you, I might add. So sit down, shut up and deal with it, not against it.’And with that, Karen turns to face the whiteboard again as if the whole tirade had cost nothing upon the economy of her emotional bank, and continues outlining tactical plans with the marker in her hand.. . .
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Plump microporker accidentally vores fellow fatty! by fulltum

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A Belly Full Of Teammates #1{A RWBY Vore Fanfiction}{Characters are 18+}"God, I can’t believe I let Nora talk me into doing this! This is so embarrassing!" Pyrrha Nikos thought to herself as she walked through the streets of Vale, or more accurately, waddled due to the massive belly she currently had, looking like she had swallowed a yoga ball given the sheer size. Even though she was in disguise to keep people from directly recognizing who she was, she couldn’t help but blush brightly as everyone she passed by paused to look at her because of her belly.Wearing a simple red sweater and brown pants, Pyrrha’s outfit made no attempt at all to hide a single inch of her belly as it stuck out completely exposed, which was a big reason why it was getting so much attention. Though what probably drew even more attention to it besides its size was the bright red dice piercing that was hanging from her popped belly button like an earring, standing out quite a bit against her white belly.Alongside what she had on for her outfit, Pyrrha also had on a pair of gray fake glasses, a brown beret that she had her long hair tucked under, and a red mask covering her mouth and nose, all working together to hide her face so that nobody would recognize who she was despite the fact that she was drawing so much attention with her belly. At first glance, it would seem that Pyrrha was heavily pregnant, considering it was just her belly that was massive while the rest of her was skinny or at the very least extremely stuffed after eating a massive meal. It was even reasonable to assume that she had inflated her belly like a balloon for whatever reason, but none of those were even close to the truth. The real reason why Pyrrha’s belly was so big was because Nora Valkyrie wanted to spend the day with Pyrrha while also being inside of Pyrrha’s belly, and despite Pyrrha’s best attempts to dissuade her, Nora ultimately won in the end. Unfortunately for Pyrrha, she was the type of person who was completely helpless against the puppy-dog eyes, and Nora was unnaturally good at using them to her advantage. Giving Nora what she wanted, Pyrrha had swallowed Nora whole and was now carrying her around in her belly while they went around doing everything they normally would do when it was just the two of them. Only this time, it was a lot more awkward for Pyrrha because she was the one having to carry her teammate in her belly as they spent the day together. "Oh, Pyrrha!~ Stop by that crane machine!~" Nora’s voice suddenly appears in Pyrrha’s head as she waddles past an arcade with a crane machine out front. For some strange reason that she couldn’t understand, Nora was able to see what was going on outside of Pyrrha’s belly, along with speaking to Pyrrha telepathically while she was inside of Pyrrha’s belly. Spotting the crane machine, Pyrrha waddles over toward it and turns herself sideways so that she can get a closer look at it. "Do you see something that you like?" Pyrrha replies mentally, grateful that she didn’t have to speak out loud to talk to Nora since that would draw even more attention to her than her situation already did. "There’s a pink hammer plush that I’ve had my eye on for a while now, but I could never get it!~" Nora replies. "And what makes you think I can?" Pyrrha asks. "Because you could use your Semblance to manipulate the crane so that you can grab whatever you want!~" Nora replies. "Nora, using my Semblance on a crane machine would be cheating." Pyrrha replies. "And how is anyone going to prove that you cheated with your Semblance?~" Nora asks. "Come on, pretty please?~ I’ll make it up to you later, I promise!~" Pyrrha sighs softly, knowing that she couldn’t win an argument against Nora once she set her mind on something. That was the whole reason she was in her current situation to begin with. Deciding it would be better to satisfy Nora by giving her what she wanted right this moment, Pyrrha puts some money into the crane machine and begins working it. Sure enough, the game was super easy for her since she was able to subtly manipulate the crane itself with her Semblance, grabbing the pink hammer plush Nora wanted while also getting a red spear plush for herself at the same time. "Oh, nice one!~" Nora comments as she sees the impressive display of getting two prizes with one grab. "Alright, I got what you wanted. I’m going to hold onto it till we get back to the dorm room, though, since I don’t want to swallow it just so you can have it now." Pyrrha replies as she tucks both plushes into the large bag she had been carrying with her to store all of her and Nora’s things as they traveled around Vale. "Fair enough~ Thank you for getting me the plush~" Nora replies, rubbing the inside of Pyrrha’s belly as a show of thanks. Pyrrha couldn’t help but smile at this, rubbing the outside of her belly in response. "Of course. So, is there anything else you want to do in particular?" "Can we go get some pancakes?~ I’m starting to get pretty hungry right now~" Nora asks. "And how exactly are you supposed to eat pancakes while you’re inside my belly?" Pyrrha asks. "Easy!~ You’ll eat the pancakes, and then I’ll eat them as they come into your belly~ This way, I get to enjoy the pancakes, and you get to enjoy them as much as you want without gaining any weight~" Nora replies. Pyrrha pauses for a moment to ponder what Nora said, realizing that Nora was speaking the truth since having Nora in her belly meant she could eat as much as she wanted without gaining any weight if Nora ate all of the food she ate. Which meant she could cheat on her diet without it affecting her ability to be a Huntress. It was a weird idea to indulge in, sure, but if Nora was offering, then there was no reason for her to turn her down. "Well?~ Does the idea work for you?~" Nora asks after Pyrrha has been quiet for a bit. "Alright, I’ll go get us some pancakes, but after that, we’re going to do something I want to do~ I’m the one carrying your ass around in my belly after all~" Pyrrha replies, giggling a bit. "Fair enough~" Nora giggles. "If you want to, I can carry you in my belly next time we go out like this~ That way you get to take it easy while I do all of the lifting~" "I’m honestly curious what this feels like from the inside, so I’ll take you up on that offer~ For now, let’s enjoy the rest of our day~" Pyrrha replies as she starts waddling for the nearest pancake place, already forgetting how embarrassed she originally was when she first started doing this. Once the embarrassment was behind her, Pyrrha found herself enjoying her situation a lot more than she did at first, even with all of the looks she kept getting as she waddled around Vale. It was hard to stay negative about something when someone as positive as Nora was involved, and her positive attitude was already cheering up Pyrrha. Smiling as she continued to waddle, Pyrrha was already thinking about what they’re going to do next after she ate some pancakes for the two of them. They still had all day, and Pyrrha wanted to make the most of it before they returned to the dorm room to call it a night. "In hindsight, I’m really glad Nora talked me into doing this~ This is a lot of fun!~"

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I Love Pepsi! by chubbypandagf
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Dicey Redhead Pizza Burps Compilation 2 by chubbypandagf
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:iconfantasywgwriters::iconunited-we-wg::iconweigh:
Hello.

As you can see, the founder of this group has long abandoned his account without any personal reason we can only assume, so I have been the one accepting some submissions to the featured folder. However, I have no interest being being involved in this group no longer, so if anyone likes to be the new founder, please comment and I'll take it from there.

And if you like to be a contributor, so be it.


Thanks.
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:icondonaghy86:
Donaghy86 Featured By Owner Sep 11, 2021
I'm looking for a writer. Female focused story, realistic weight gain. If you're the right writer, please send me a message.
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:iconstephenstrangeiii:
StephenStrangeIII Featured By Owner Jan 15, 2021
Y'all accepting new members?
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:iconprofessional-lurker6:
i need help, looking for a specific story where a female teacher and student accidentally create a chemical during an after-school at home type of science lesson, and they both end up stuffing themselves because of it. i cant remember the name of it, but if it sounds familiar to anyone, please let me know; ever since dA moved to eclipse I haven't been able to find it and i really want to know if its still on the site
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:iconrikygamer08:
Rikygamer08 Featured By Owner Apr 27, 2020
Ciao how are you
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:iconrikygamer08:
Rikygamer08 Featured By Owner Apr 27, 2020
Ciao
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:iconfinegold:
finegold Featured By Owner Feb 18, 2020  Professional Digital Artist
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:iconthe-autistic-artist:
The-Autistic-Artist Featured By Owner Dec 26, 2019  Hobbyist General Artist
Can someone reclaim a basically abamdoned group with no one remaining in charge?
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:iconfirewarrior121:
firewarrior121 Featured By Owner Jan 9, 2020  Hobbyist Writer
Good question. I get the feeling you'll have to wait until someone in charge reappears to answer that one...
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:iconthe-autistic-artist:
The-Autistic-Artist Featured By Owner Jan 9, 2020  Hobbyist General Artist
In charge of what?
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