"I-I didn't tell it to do that!" Falin Touden yelped as the bedsheet she was wearing as bedwear twitched again. "Marcille, why is it...?" She gasped, her legs twisting back and forth in an awkward tandem.

They'd explained, no small amount of times, that the resurrection hadn't been perfect. Raising someone from the dead wasn't easy in the first place, but was nigh-on impossible when all you had to work with was a bundle of bones and a quarter-ton of red dragon offal. "I don't know either!" Frankly, Marcille Donato was used to such unusual things by now, though; her entire trip through the dungeon had been one freaky thing after another. To see her girlfriend — what was hopefully her girlfriend — sob from strikingly amber eyes, and cover her blushing cheeks with taloned hands, was something she'd almost expected, by now. Just another turn of odd luck, in an extremely odd adventure.

"I swear, I'm not doing it on purpose!" Again, and again, her outfit jerked and spasmed as it struggled to contain Falin's most draconic feature. Unfortunately, the red dragon that'd eaten her had been a male. Even more unfortunately, the resurrection rite had gotten a little confused, in that regard. "It just k-keeps..." She mumbled, her hips bucking as the beastly thing breathed out another gobbet of stuff, all along the inside of her cloak.

By now, the entire bottom-half of Falin's bedsheet-robe was stained a sickly, bloody red by an entire litre of drooling, feverish dragon cum. It hadn't even been long; only a few minutes since it'd started. Falin was even starting to stain the ground with it, as if she was bleeding from every orifice — when in reality, she wasn't even bleeding, and it was only coming from one.

"Just take it off!" Managing to fix her exhausted expression with a single shred of determination, Marcille pointed at Falin, and readied her staff. "I've got an idea!" Swallowing as she once again spied the sheer bulge that Falin's freshly-created cock was tearing in the sheet, Marcille was overcome by the temptation to step back, far away from such a violent thing. That, or just drop to her knees and get it over with.

Falin nodded, sure that if anyone had a real solution — that didn't involve cooking — it would be Marcille. Steeled by her girlfriend's assurance that there was some spell in her book that'd do something, she stripped bare, ripping the sheet off before her cock could do the same.

Marcille just swallowed. She full on gasped as the spined, nearly spiky thing came into view. Jolting away from such a devilish-looking appendage, Marcille was overcome by just how red it was. Chitinous, violent and curved; every reason she'd been told to steer clear of demi-humans. "A-Actually!" Almost telling Falin to just put the sheet back on and forget about it, Marcille's thought-train was interrupted by another distinct noise. The sound of her dress, tearing.

It seemed that Falin's body wasn't the only one being disobedient. Marcille's tummy had suffered dearly from her voyage into the dungeon. Now, it was a saggy muffintop, that stretched her dress so tight that you could see her navel through the fabric. Slightly less tightly now, though.

"I didn't tell it to do that, either!" Falin squealed, as she came again.

"And then," Daiba Nana giggled to herself as she recounted a conversation that'd only happened an hour or two ago. "Karen-chan said hawk tuah!" Almost choking with her raucous laughter, Nana looked up at her girlfriend for some kind of response. As if she'd already sensed that she'd incensed her, though, Nana made sure to placate her with another slice of goopy, filling-packed pie.

"Nana," Hoshimi Junna shook her head, suddenly overcast with a frustrated expression. "Karen shouldn't be saying things like that." Even if she was trying to be the image of the flawless, frustrated student council president, Junna's raised, porky finger didn't have a shred of strictness to it. The fact that her entire arm, from fingertip to fat shoulder, was an ever-widening pyramid of rippling blubber-roll, made her look more like a stuffed plushie that anything with a single iota of authority. "Two slices, please." Satisfied that she'd at least tried to enforce Seisho's rules, and uphold its dignity, Junna nodded to herself with a proud, puffy smirk — which lasted for all of two seconds, before the pie slices she'd ordered arrived, and the bedbound blob set about devouring them.

"I'll tell her that!" Junna's foremost enforcer let her know that she'd received the memo with a happy pat to the belly. "Karen-chan is such a bad girl!" Making sure she was just backing up her blobby girlfriend on everything that came out of her mouth, Nana lifted a food-steeped fork towards her goddess' mouth. "Not like you, Junna-chan~!" With that, another mouthful of fattening pastry was swallowed, straight into Junna's belly.

"Mhm." Junna's finger, that'd been trying to act so stern just a moment ago, dropped down immediately with the rest of her hand; obediently rubbing her belly, and the twenty grams of food that'd just joined it, and the three-hundred kilo mass of fat that it would soon be digesting inside of. "Very good." After thoroughly enjoying every second of the pie-slice's fleeting life, Junna purred her applause to her girlfriend, along with the soft gurgles of her gut.

"So yummy, isn't it?" Nana grinned, getting ahead of herself as she set the pie down and began kneading at Junna's flabby, dumpy flesh; every kilo of it, that was so heavy that it was almost fused to the bed. "Only the best for Junna-chan!" Tickling the divots in her skin, and teasing the horizons of her huge flab-rolls, Nana indulged herself in every inch of Junna's glossy meat-blob. "The best Student Council President ever!"

"Twenty HP!" Arisu proclaimed as she held a bag of pastries aloft, her eyes sparkling like she'd just pried them out of a dungeon chest. "Each!" She finally added, bring the package down and pulling the drawstrings apart, revealing the precious payload.

"Huh?" Turning her head slowly, a weary Mikamo Neru didn't share Arisu's excitement in the slightest. Looking down at the calorie-filled baggy, Neru rolled her eyes. Unsure of whether she ought to outright refuse them or not, she spared a glance at Arisu's sparkling, android eyes. No doubt that she'd done the calorie-calculations, too. "Seriously?" She grunted, pulling at the skintight collar of her uniform shirt to try and let some air out — some of the sweaty, stinking air that filled the tiny spaces left inside of it.

"You can use these to heal up after your big adventure!" Having somehow become privy to C&C's every motion, Arisu had set upon the opportunity to make sure Neru was always in peak condition — which most certianly meant keeping her HP in tip-top shape. "You must've taken lots of damage, duelling with all of those monsters!" She nodded, so sure of herself.

"Monsters?" Neru smirked, recalling the mission she'd just finished flawlessly. "Nah, just students. Weak ass students, as usual." Managing to eke out a shred of pride from the situation she found herself in, Neru laughed at her own, near-peerless superiority. Or, at least, her former invincibility; now that her 'HP stat' was so large that she couldn't even fit on most of C&C's missions, Neru was commonly sidelined all the way to the back of the bunnygirl's formations. She hadn't even landed a single shot — but she wasn't about to tell Arisu that.

"Huh?" Arisu's excitement was instantly replaced with a grim look. "You... Don't want them?" She couldn't even compute such an answer; how could the hero not want to keep their HP topped up? "You've got so much HP, though! You need to keep it at max for the next mission!" She complained, jumping forwards as if Neru would just absorb the cookies.

"Nope!" Neru grunted, holding Arisu back with a pair of plump hands. Grabbing Arisu's tiny waist made her blush; not only was the tiny girl so adorable, she was exactly that: tiny. Something Neru wasn't, and hadn't been for a while. "My uhh... My HP is too high already." Letting go of Arisu, Neru blushed as she placed one hand on her belly, squishing lardy blubber through her fingers as she squirmed under the heat of her own embarrassment. "It's forcing me to reclass into a tank..." She mumbled, still struggling a bit with Arisu's RPG-jargon. But, she couldn't deny; right now, Neru was feeling far too much like an actual tank. Heavy, and wide enough to steamroll entire buildings. A few weeks back, a bullet had actually bounced off of her belly.

"Neru? A tank?" Arisu sat back, looking her obese girlfriend up and down. Slowly, though, a realisation overcame her. "The hero is a tank in Pyre Emblem Five!" She exclaimed, jumping onto Neru once more — far too quickly for even the super-agent to react. Thinking she'd given Neru some kind of solace, Arisa snuggled her cheek against the tank's belly, carelessly smothering her cheek into god-knows how much meat.

"Gah!" Neru spluttered, blushing as Arisu's not-so squishy cheek rubbed up and down against her belly. "Pyre Emblem?!" She scowled, a button or two on her blouse bursting as outrage filled the girl up. Sticky, pasty flesh dropped out of the gap like a pile of sludge, and soon enough, Arisu was ogling the stuff. "S-Sounds like bull to me..."

You're grateful that Tsurumaki Kokoro is the one supplying the food, this time. If you'd had to carry that bag all through the concert, and down the queue, you'd have spilled it once or twice already. But now, you're at the front. Your hands are shaking, and your knees can barely keep you aloft, but you've made it. The front of the Hello Happy Queue. There's a small victory to be had, even in that.

"Does everyone have enough food?" From a few feet behind you now, Kokoro continues to hand out bags of nebulous foodstuffs from the massive pile she's amassed next to her. She's almost been doing this an hour, but she doesn't seem to mind; that smile hasn't faltered an inch, in all that time. Everyone who applied for the Meet and Eat event gets one, and gets sent off, behind that mysterious curtain. Being Kaoru Seta's biggest fan, though, you know exactly what's behind it. In fact, you can already hear her wheezing.

"Next!" Okusawa Misaki gestures you to take the few steps up to the curtain. Like it's some kind of sacrificial dais, it's all embossed with gold, and trickling with small rivers of offal and mushed-up foodstuff. Misaki smiles at you, but you can honestly tell she's a bit concerned. "Kaoru-san is getting a bit full, okay?"

You nod back at her. You've done this song-and-dance a dozen times over, watching this goddess expand to her proper size, and every time has been beyond stimulating. It's been perfect, and you've always bought your ticket to the next show as soon as you walked out of the 'shrine', almost as though you were possessed by something you'd caught in there. Kaoru mania, perhaps.

"Just take it slow, okay?" Misaki's trademark fake smile ushers you up to the curtain, and then she pulls it aside and just about pushes you through. "And don't get too close to her mouth, okay?" With one last shout, Misaki drops the curtain back, and you're alone. Alone, save for the smell.

"Kaoru-sama?" You squeak, unable to manage much more. The smell of every single flavour on the planet meets your noise. For a second, you recoil, then step forwards. Squidge. Around the shrine, a set of candles blast into life, and you're dappled with light. That, and what you soon realise is a near-litre of ooze.

"Princess!" Seta Kaoru smiles as you look up to meet her eyes. "You — Urp — came again!" Between her boobs, you can just about make out her grin, and her weary but still glittering eyes. "More food...?" She wheezes, one fat hand reaching down to pat at what had once been a rib, but was now a part of her infinitely expanding tummy.

"M-More!" You gasp, realising your hands are wrist-deep in the prince's meat. "As much as I could get!" Gibbering, you shcloop your hands out of the belly-fat, horrified of offending the goddess you'd queued for so long to meet.

"Hmm," Kaoru mewls, licking her lips as she pats you on the head. "You can rub my tummy if you'd like, princess!" She giggles, moving her red toga-dress slightly to the side so that you can reach more meat. "But you'll have to excuse me if I — bourpp! — if I burp...!"

Hypnotised already by this greedy goddess, you nod feverishly. "Tummy rubs!" You agree, not even taking time to breathe. Once more, your fingers return to Kaoru's blubber, scooping their way through infinite oodles of the blob's fat. In no time at all, they're steeped in sweat and cream, but you continue nonetheless. This immobile goddess needs worshipping, after all.

"Luka-chan," An especially bouncy MEIKO bounded into another classroom of the Classroom Sekai,an overjoyed look on her face as her uniform struggled to keep up with all the jostling beneath it. "Did you hear the rumors?" She sneered, besides herself with happiness as she met eyes with her fellow virtual singer. Trotting up to Luka's side, Meiko acted unusually childish, twiddling a lock of the girl's hair between her fingers as Luka tried to practice.

"Meiko?" Surrendering to the other girl's pestering, Luka turned to face her with a little chuckle. "Whatever's got you so worked up, it must be good~!" She laughed, setting aside her guitar and getting ready for the gossip-bomb of a lifetime. With the majority of Leo/Need having gone their separate ways, they'd practically abandoned their beloved vocaloids to a fate of neglect — that, and gradually getting plumper under some unseen force. So, it was only natural for Luka and Meiko to be positively enraptured by the prospect of some kind of gossip.

"M-Meiko! Haah! Meiko, s-slow down!" From almost the other side of the building, the sound of what could only be a stampeding elephant could be heard. "P-Please!" It wheezed, exhausted and on the edge of raggedness. Meiko's ear pricked when she heard it, shuffling in on Luka as if she was afraid of the massive beast catching her up.

"Did you hear?" She whispered, her childish excitedness quickly replaced with her usual, slightly seductive motherliness. "Honami and Saki, they're..." She teased, running a finger along Luka's thigh as if that'd actually do anything. "They're getting fat." She hummed, right into Luka's ear, beaming as she saw the cheek it was connected to burst into a furious blushing.

"Getting fat?!" Luka exclaimed, almost toppling off of her desk as the news hit her, square in the face. She hadn't even seen Saki or Honami in years, having made do with the daily visit from Ichika, and their own escapades. To think that an entire half of Leo/Need had gotten fat perplexed her beyond measure. They'd been so stern and studious — even if they loved to have fun — that Luka could hardly even imagine them as a flabby band.

"What's more," Meiko didn't stop, drinking in the way that Luka reacted to the news. Like some kind of succubus, she curled about Luka, forbidding any chance at a retreat. "they're getting fat on purpose!" She finally giggled, her free hand patting Luka's slightly plump tummy as she did. Finally, Meiko knew exactly why they'd started fattening up; Saki and Honami's brains were so polluted with thoughts of getting fat, that they'd extended the effect of their own gluttony into the Sekai.

"Meiko-s-san!" Still beyond bedraggled, the source of the voice became more apparent as soon as Meiko finished when she had to say. "Meiko-san, please don't..." Mochizuki Honami's already weary voice trailed off as she landed on the truth. Meiko had given away her secret to another Virtual Singer, and clearly planned on having no end of fun with it. As Honami waddled into view, the effects her appetite had been having on her own body became apparent; if the Virtual Singers had gotten chubby off of their thoughts, then it was no surprise that Honami herself had turned into something almost amounting to a blob.

"Oh!" Meiko snickered, turning about to see the fat drummer ooze into view. "Honami, so kind of you to join us!" She smirked, slinking about the classroom until she could lean against the doorframe. After all, Honami was so wide that she might not even be able to fit through it. "We were just discussing something fun..." Meiko's eyes slimmed down; all three of them knew exactly what she'd been talking about — after all, the virtual drummer was staring right at Honami's belly.

"Ughh..." Honami wheezed, clutching her belly in both hands as she blushed. Still oh-so tired from climbing a few flights of stairs, Honami's clearly three-hundred kilo body seemed to puff out superheated clouds of sweat and exhaustion. "You P-Promised, Meiko-san!" Honami gasped, on the verge of tears. "Saki-chan and I are just..."

Before the panting piggy could finish her sentence, Meiko leapt in, letting Honami's throat rest for just a moment. "Just a bit of fun?" She teased, leaving the classroom with Luka in close pursuit. "You know, we're not too bad at that ourselves!" Meiko rubbed her own belly now, pushing the buttons apart with her thumbs and exposing the soft, squishy flesh beneath.

"That's what we're afraid of!" Honami wailed, watching helplessly as Meiko grabbed one of her arms, and Luka seized the other. "You two can get a bit—!" Unable to finish herself once again, Honami whimpered as a thick, goop-filled bun was shoved into her mouth.

"Overexcited?" Now, it was Luka's turn to have some fun with the fatass. Generating a virtual profiterole in one hand, Luka slunk it towards Honami's greedy mouth. "Well, it's just your fault for leaving us alone, for so long~!" Luka smiled, honestly overjoyed to see Honami again, no matter what shape she was in. After sliding the profiterole into Honami's plump cheeks, Luka's free hand slid down, over her huge boobs, and onto an even huger belly. Squidging the soft mass as it hung out of a loose t-shirt, Luka smiled at Meiko, and nodded.

"You — Omff — You dwoo!" Honami squealed, feeling her face fill up with food as her thick body grew ever so much rounder under the two girl's stewardship. "Shtop!" She moaned, growing another inch more rotund as she swallowed a mouthful of slop. "I'm sho f-fat alweddy!" Honami blubbered, trying to free herself from the two; but then, her own elbow squished into something immensely soft. Soft, and growing.

"You are!" Meiko grinned, pulling Honami's arm in close enough that she could feel just how much fatter she was becoming. "You really are fat, Honami!" With that, the buttons down Meiko's blouse started to burst. "And so are we!!"

Isurugi Futaba couldn't believe her eyes; not for a single second. Her girlfriend's eyes, which were usually so dour and sour, were alight with excitement, right now. As if someone entirely else had possessed her, Kaoruko seemed to be shimmering with stimulation, and positively irradiated with what could only be dangerous levels of anticipation. There was only one problem. "Kaoruko, come on... This kinda... Hurts...!" Futaba groaned, feeling her belly twitch, pulse, and then rise another inch into the air.

"You'll be — Gulp — fine, Futaba-han," with every second, Hanayagi Kaoruko's evil little fingers twiddled closer and closer to the mass she was so entranced by. Futaba's belly was currently a sweltering, sloshing mass of something. Either way, it oozed sweat, and stank of so many bodily fluids that it was almost amazing. With every passing second, the sludge that Kaoruko had so carelessly poured down Futaba's throat as if she were a trash-can, seemed to be bloating into a near-sentient hunk of flubber. At first, the miserly mistress hadn't even been interested — but now that Futaba's tummy was a hulking, heaving mass of gurgling flesh and digesting woes, it was all she could talk about. "You'll probably digest it, anyway."

"Probably?!" Futaba cursed as her pyjama-top rode up her chest another foot, rolling backwards as Futaba's body expanded, and bulged to fit the goop inside of her's rapidly increasing demands. Even if it was beneath her skin, Futaba could feel her organs shuffling and rearranging as her tummy became the single largest part of her. Like part of a dome, even Futaba's ribs began to arch to accommodate it all. "That's not too — Ngh — reassuring!"

Kaoruko ignored the yelps of her misbegotten girlfriend, obsessed with the turbo-heat belly currently on display in front of her fingers instead. Nearly lost in a reverie, Kaoruko's trembling hands plapped against the swelling mass, feeling the twitches and spasms of Futaba's flesh like they were entire revelations of pleasure. "So fat..." She moaned, under her breath.

"So What?!" Futaba howled, so incensed at her own expansion that she slapped her belly — something she promptly regretted, as it lurched back and forth like a pile of jelly. "I'm gonna get fat offa this?!" She squealed, her head tipping back as the first load of gloop was digested, sending entire handfuls of the gooey mass into her greedy intestines. "I-I'm gonna be fat..." She groaned, now full of despair, instead of disbelief. As if to prove her point, the squishiness of Futaba's belly was suddenly enhanced — not by more goop, but by a burgeoning pair of love handles.

Kaoruko's eyes glittered once more as she ran her hands along her girlfriend's sweaty belly, revelling in the fact that in mere hours, she'd be fatter than fat. "Don't worry, Futaba-han," once again, Kaoruko tried to calm her, but this time the issue wasn't whether she'd be getting big or not. "I'll buy you plenty of new clothes, okay?"

"You really thought you could just run away, President?" Leaning forwards in her wheelchair, Akeboshi Himari reached out one hand — or moreover, one finger to prod at her president's pudgy cheeks. "You really thought you could run away, and just hope everyone forgot what you did?" She snickered, looking way down at Tsukatsuki Rio, who was currently stranded on a desk. Stranded, and helpless, because she was too small to escape.

"Himari!" Rio yelled back at her lackey, who had obeyed her until a few hours ago. Until she'd been made so small that she didn't have a single say in what happened to her tiny body. "Himari, you're going to undo this now, and —!!" Before she could order her about any longer, though, Rio was forcibly shut up; by a sack of something being shoved into her tiny mouth.

"Uh-uh!" Himari teased, enjoying that she'd finally found something that she had utter control over; even without her wheelchair, Himari had complete superiority over this pint-sized president. "You've got plenty to answer for, after all." She smirked, her grin growing to truly grim proportions. Whilst one hand supported her own body as it leant forwards to abuse Rio, the other held the implement of her soon-to-be torture; a thick, squishy bag of freshly-minted cream. Specifically, strawberry flavoured. Pushing the little brass tip into Rio's similarly tiny mouth, Himari found her brain excited by just how well it fit. With a body the size of a cookie, of course it did. Rio was a bakery treat, all roasted and ready to be properly prepared.

"Hima-wi!!" Rio gasped, on the verge of a sob, as she felt her mouth fill with it's first gobbet of cream. The stuff was thick, stodgy and utterly unrelenting. With her predictions, it'd only take a few pumps to fill her tiny tummy; the rest would make her bulge.

As if she was feeding a pet, Himari squeezed the other end of the icing-tube with slow, careful motions. She almost seemed loving, as if there wasn't a teary, red-faced president on the receiving side. "Rio, just lay down and accept it!" She giggled, letting her superiority complex fully take control. "Accept all of it, you naughty girl..." By this point, she was just enjoying abusing Rio.

"Unfghh!" Rio gasped for air between creamy pulses of goo, her suit beginning to strain, and her ribbed vest slowly riding up to reveal a swollen — but still tiny — belly. She'd barely swallowed a tenth of the punishment prepared for her, and she was already on the ropes. "No — Gahkk! — No moah!" As the miniature buttons of her blouse popped and flew across the room, reduced to tiny specks of plastic by Himari's meddling, Rio fell backwards onto a distinctly flabbier butt. She hadn't just been made tiny; her metabolism had been switched to overdrive.

"Is it yummy, President Rio?" Himari gloated, pursuing the plumpening girl with the tip of her feeder. "I'll bet it is!" Soon enough, Rio would be so fat that people might even pity her.

"So, this is the thing?" Akiyama Mizuki giggled as she fingered the roughshod wires and exposed tubes of the machine beneath her. "This how Enanan got sooo fat?" She chortled, quickly recognising the typical signs that this was none other than Kamishiro Rui's handiwork. A human pump, designed for making people impossibly plump. Exactly what it'd done to Mizuki's girlfriend, in a matter of months.

Spying a still full bottle of soda beneath Ena's bed, and not far from the pump, Mizuki didn't take long to predict what it was supposed to be used for. An entire two-litre bottle of soda, waiting at attention, to be dumped into this spider-like machine — and then pumped right into Ena's belly, and no doubt make her even slobbier, fatter and rounder. Mizuki purred as she pictured it, struggling not to touch herself from the pleasure of imagining Ena's face bulging with soda and calories.

With Ena downstairs though, and no doubt struggling with a household that had all of a sudden gotten so much smaller, Mizuki had free reign of the rotund artist's bedroom. She'd been looking forwards to watching Ena waddle back into the room with enough snacks to feed a small army, but this took precedence, for sure.

"Enanan, such a dirty secret...!" Mizuki teased no-one in particular as she popped out the OUT tube, running her finger around the feeding-hole and shivering as she found it still a bit damp with saliva. Ena really had been guzzling from it, not too long ago. Surely, she'd be doing to exact same thing once Mizuki left, too...

Just a bit wouldn't hurt... Mizuki joked to herself as she set her hands upon the dutifully-waiting soda bottle, tearing its cap off, and dumping as much of it as she could into the pump's storage unit. "Hehehe," she giggled, unable to separate the storage vat from her mental image of Ena's bulging face. As soda was disgorged into it, she pictured Ena growing teary and pale, her cheeks just as puffed up as her belly always was. For a bratty girl, she really could be a handful when she wanted. "You're gonna get so round, Enanan...!" Tossing the now empty bottle aside, Mizuki just stared at the pump with a conflicted look, oh-so tempted by it's pregnant readiness to destroy the waistlines of any girl who might be so stupid as to try it.

"Then again," Mizuki had never called herself smart, though. Before she knew it, the tube was in her own mouth. Fiddling with the buttons like she actually knew which one started the damn thing, Mizuki dragged up the hem of her top with one hand, rubbing her flat belly and picturing it growing as wide, thick and round as Ena's engorged stomach always was. "Jusht a biht!" She chuckled to herself as she heard the pump whine, whinge and spur into action.

When Shinonome Ena returned to her room — with enough donuts to fill two plates — she almost dropped her calorie-stuffed hoard. Shimmying sideways through her door, too obese to manage any other way, she went pale as she spotted Mizuki writhing on the floor, frothing at the mount at spasming at the fingertips. "Mizuki?!" She yelped, but quickly saw what was really going on; like an idiot, Mizuki had hooked herself up to the stuffing machine. Not only that, but she hadn't even done it properly.

"Uhnanahn..." Mizuki garbled, through the constant onslaught of soda. With each second, her belly gargled and leapt upwards, as if the drink was trying to escape the idiot's belly. "Hewp...!" She sobbed, another pump-full of the stuff seeping into her helpless mouth.

"Mizuki..." Settling down after the scare she'd suffered, Ena rolled her eyes and slipped a down into her mouth, patting her fat belly as she mourned only the calories that she would be missing out on. "You switched in on to turbo mode...."

"Ko-haane~!" Shiraishi An singsonged, her usual tone only slightly deeper for a simple fact; she was so obese that she couldn't get off of her bed. "Kohane, I wanna go back to America!" She moaned, nodding to herself about the genius of her own idea, and sloshing her chin-rolls into her cleavage with what could only be called reckless abandoned. An's head looked as if it could get lost in that tremendous valley, regardless of the amount of sports bras trying to keep it in check.

"B-Back to America, An-chan?" Azusawa Kohane laughed, and then sighed. There was absolutely no way An was fitting on a place, let alone having it lift off and actually land in America. Even then, if An managed to arrive in that fateful place, if she ever left it, she would've gained another half-ton. "I think you're fat enough, already..." Nonetheless obsessed with her girlfriend's gigantic body, Kohane couldn't keep her hands off of that soft mass; a sloshing, sagging blob of fat that seemed to warp with the wind. A single touch could send it wobbling for minutes on end — there was no telling what a kiss would do to it.

"Fat enough? Ungh..." An wriggled about under the meaty weight of her own body, her clothes ripping and tearing in tiny ways as her fat oozed about. "I guess...!" Pretending to pout, the fat blob pushed her hands through her blubber-folds to rub her belly. "Still! I'm hungry!" Playing it up just for Kohane, An acted like some kind of food-obsessed heathen — even if that's exactly what she was.

Ever since she'd returned from America as a well-fed fatso, doomed to only grow from thereon out, Shiraishi An had pumped herself up with food at a ridiculous rate, only getting fatter — and getting fatter, faster — once she'd learned that Kohane was into it. Currently wearing clothes ten sizes too small for her blob-body, An just looked at her feeder with pathetic, helpless eyes and moaned her greediness to the world.

"O-Ok!" Kohane nodded, realising that in truth, there was a way to send this half-ton fatpile straight back to America. Even if there was no plane, boat or rocket that'd dare transport such a horny, greedy glob of a girl, there was a simple option. Bring the food to her. "One Kohane-style hamburger, coming right up!"

"You said you wanted to meet me, Ange?" Princess Charlotte, all bedecked in her typical finery and polite mannerisms, gestured her secret girlfriend down to sit opposite herself at the tea table. Queen's Mayfaire had no shortage of infinitely picturesque tables in it's copious gardens, but Charlotte always seemed to find the best one — or, perhaps, they made sure that there was always one at hand, when the Princess of Albion went out for snacktime. Snacktimes which were increasing, in recent days; in frequency, and intensity.

"Thank you ever so much, Princess." Bowing with all the grace of a lowly commoner in the face of her better, Ange Le Carré made sure to follow every last order expected of her — as expected of a spy. Sitting down now, and pulling her chair up so that she was forced to sit straight, Ange gave her surroundings a subdued one-two, to make sure they weren't being followed. "It's just," she breathed, and then burst. Like a tree in autumn, Ange just collapsed, losing her leaves instantly as exhaustion overcame her. "I can't keep this up, Charlotte...!"

"Whatever do you mean?" Giggling effectually at Ange's display, Charlotte clasped her hands and smiled, that same efficacy coming to her without a single second's pause. "You've been doing a wonderful job, so far."

"E-Everyone has been... Nngh..." Finding it ever-so-tough to tone back her overexerted body, Ange tried to suck it all in and show the same sincerity that her Princess was — to little success. "They've been feeding me... Especially when I disguise myself as you..." Whispering her sordid secrets under her breath, Ange found that even if she could right her back, pull in her thighs and correct her smile, there was one thing that just wouldn't obey her. Her belly. Resisting any insistence to be sucked back in, Ange's flabby, and similarly stuffed tummy bulged out under the table, entirely filling the space between Ange's knees and the table's underside.

"They have?" Supressing the little flicker of knowing in her eyes, Charlotte only seemed concerned. Her own belly was a bit bloated too, but that was nothing compared to the ecstasy of having such a plump girlfriend. She'd sacrificed plenty, already; sacrificing her flawless figure for a bit of fun surely wasn't off the table. "You don't look too different, to me, though?"

Ange blushed, knowing the answer she was going to give before Charlotte even finished her sentence. "Well, you haven't seen me in a while, Princess." She murmured, almost mumbling. "I can promise you," with one hand rubbing her globular gut, Ange tried to take her mind off just how sensitive it was. "I'm too big to disguise myself as you, I think. Everyone will spread rumours."

"Well then," Charlotte feigned shock so easily that it was a surprise she wasn't a spy already. Closing her eyes and breathing in her own satisfaction, Charlotte leaned forwards and offered Ange the full selection of the bite-sized buffet she had arrayed out on the table between them. Unable to fight it any longer, her courteous smile twist into a smirk. "Why don't we give them some good rumors, then?"

"This is a stupid idea." 'Flash Fire' Monika paced slowly, trying to stay in-time with her charge's footsteps, as the two girls made their way out of Heat Haze Palace. Unable to wipe her sweat, or toss her hair out of her eyes, Monika simply suffered as she lugged her 'luggage' out the door. "Then again, most of your ideas are stupid." Unable to stop her verbal battery for even a second, Monika tried not to think too hard about the ridiculous task at hand.

'Dream Speaker' Thea rolled her eyes and shook her head, her flabby cheeks jostling for control as she did. "Not in the slightest!" She protested, her own arms comfortably seated on her own hips, much unlike Monika's. "I told you, this target is attracted to large ladies." She snickered, running her digits along the ridiculously expanded expanse of her flank, and shivering with pleasure when she realised that her belly stuck out further than her arms could reach. "And I, am larger than large, right now." Engrossed with the pleasure of being an almost-blob, Thea proudly wobbled about, her every motion making Monika's own mission ten times harder.

"Fuck!" Monika swore, almost dropping Thea's gut as it oozed about in her arms. "Larger than large? At least you got that right..." She groaned, reaffirming her hold on the huge boulder of blubber that Thea couldn't possibly have held herself — especially with those useless, fat arms. "You better pay me for this."

"Oh, aren't I already?" Thea laughed, looking down her cleavage at the shorter spy and gleefully wiping the sweat from her own forehead. "You're so very up-close and person with me," She threw her back forwards, pressing her belly further and further into Monika's face. "I think that is payment enough, no?" With a pat of her boiling pot of a belly, Thea stroked her stomach as if was an especially large cat on her lap.

"Whatever..." Trying to forget the payment Thea had promised her — an utter pipe dream, like so many of Dreamspeaker's fantasies — Monika kept her focus on the fat globe in her arms. "This had better wear off. I'm not carrying it again."

Thea wheezed as she sloshed her belly about again, cackling as she heard Monika scowl in frustration. "Well, Lily promised it would! I'll be a slim goddess by next morning!" She was so glad everything was going to plan. She had a fat belly, a massive appetite, and even a plucky little courier to drag it around.

"Yeah, as long as you don't pig out, piggy." Monika forced a smirk, pinching Thea's pooch as her gorge rose. "If you eat too much, you'll still wake up as a whale." Not mentioning the fact that she was looking forward to that nigh-on inevitability, Monika weighed Thea's sloshing mass in her hands, wondering how she might enjoy abusing such a meat-blob once it was a permanent fixture of this succubus-spy's 'irresistable' body.