This choice: Weight of the Common People • Go Back...Chapter #5Weight of the Common People by: Noxin   Gingerly, she picked up one of the greasy burgers. It wasn't a processed, typical fast-food-joint burger, but rather, more home made, with multiple levels, and many ingredients, stuffed to the brim with them, and sweating it's juices onto her fingers as she merely held it.
Taking a great big bite, she felt the myriad of flavors explode into her mouth (and all the condiments explode all over her chest and hands), and she had to chew fast to take another bite (and save the sandwich from completely falling apart). Soon, she managed to stuff the whole thing into her mouth, and began to lick the grease and sauce off her fingers, swallowing hard, and moaning, as the heavy meal reached down to her stomach. It was sloppy, yet, satisfying. So she reached for another one, and that one went down the same way - messily, but also, surprisingly satisfying her. So she went for another one, and another one... AND another one! Soon enough, she was cramming all the burgers into her mouth, only stopping for brief breathers, and to force down a more troublesome bite.
By the time she was finished, she felt exhausted. Her maw, cheeks and throat burned from all the stuffing and hard swallowing, her hands, and, subsequently, her sleeves were coated with grease, as was the fur around her mouth, and on her chin. She had even worked up a sweat, forcing all that down. Letting out a pained belch, she felt her stomach churn, doing away with the greasy meal. She had already gained a soft potbelly from all the burgers, yet, her stomach seemed to be begging for more.
So this time, she just grasped the french fries without care. They were the driest, and thus, the least greasiest of them all. However, she soon grew tired of their taste, and wend for the chicken wings as well, eating with abandon. True, they were far less greasy than the burgers, but they were fattening non-the-less: her potbelly grew, and love-handles soon joined it on either side of her hips. Her ass and ties also seemed to pack on the pounds, even as she stood.
The mess returned when she realized that she could dip the wings and the fries into the excess sauce, and thus, began to stuff herself silly with the sloppy mess. When she ran out of wings and fries, she turned toward the hot dogs and corn dogs. Soaking them in the slimy sauce, she continued her binge, caring less and less about her table manners, and more about keeping her greedy gut content. As the dogs ran out, she stopped for a breather, grabbing one of the fizzy, soft drinks, and gulping it down to elicit some stomach-easing belches. Her maw felt raw, and even her stomach burned now, yet, the hunger remained. Her ass and thighs had grown soft, and became riddled with dimples under her fur, also increasing in size, the fat seeping down into her shins. Her arms were now flabby, her love-handles spread over to her back, and her stomach was an apron of churning flab and indigestion. Finishing her drink(s), she tossed the cups aside, not caring anymore. Finally, a belch came, slightly rippling her puffed up cheeks, shaking off some of the crumbs and grease of her mouth, jaw, chin, cheeks, but only managing to make them drip down to her chest, her fur soaked with sauce and salt, and her breast poking out, increased in size with fat, yet, somehow resistant to gravity.
She was also sweating all over now, wet spots appearing under her arms, around her thickening neck and growing second chin, and in between her legs. Sweat dripped down in the crevice of her ass, and in her cleavage.
After another belch, she returned to her food and drinks, continuing her binge.
The sauce had ran out, much to her disappointment, but her next choice thankfully had a sauce of it's own: the corn-cobs, coated in butter and salt, were just perfect. Sure, he had a bit of trouble grasping them, what, with her sleeves now completely covered in grease, and her fingers becoming fattened as well, but after a few attempts, during which she repeatedly dropped the corn-cob into her cleavage, she finally managed to get a hold of it, and her motor skills, and began to scarf them down, only caring about eating it all. With all the dripping sauce and grease, she was still a very thorough eater, chewing as much as she could, and never letting a single bite go amiss.
Corn-cobs were followed by pizza pies, with the large pizzas following suit. Both of these were oven-baked and relatively consistent with their toppings, if rather oversized, so she haven't made much of mess of herself eating them, however, the pounds kept packing on:
She had a second chin now, and a third was on the way. Her arms were meaty and chunky, padded, except for the wrists and the elbows. Her constantly moving fingers remained slim, along with other joints, but her knees and ankles were slowly being swallowed by her leg fat. Her thighs were thicker than ever, and her ass had grown so fast that the dimples flattened out, however, stretch marks became visible under her fur, on her thighs and atop her ass cheeks, while her hips and waist flared, love-handles growing thicker and thicker, along with her back fat. Her stomach was now a content, bulging apron of fat, reaching down to above her knees, and bulging out as well, with the familiar stretch marks appearing on her abdomen. Even her shoulders have grown padded with adipose, and her cheeks were spreading down onto her thick neck, which now felt like it was playing the role of Poland between her cheeks and multiple chins.
The only thing that escaped the stretch marks and the sagging were her breasts. Sure, they hanged low, but they were still full, still perky, now taking on a distinctive "missile shape", as they spread across her growing stomach.
Still, she was sweating like a horse, as she began to consume the desert: snack-pies, few-bite-sized pies stuffed to the brim with a sweet cream, and small cakes, caked with icing and powdered sugar, with a spongy texture, and plenty of jam and cream inside. And, along with that, of course, came the last of the drinks.
Due to their small size and the routine she had gained after consuming so much junk, she managed to avoid making more of a mess of herself with her binge, only getting just a wee bit of jam and powdered sugar atop her chest.
As she chugged her last, jumbo soda, she glanced down, noticing that the powder had spread all over her chest.
"Hehehe... Sugartits..." she chuckled inwardly, even surprising herself that she had found that funny, before letting loose of a long, frame-rattling belch after finishing off her drink.
Oddly enough, the obscenely loud and long outburst only seemed to humor her more, making first giggle, the chuckle, then after a second belch, break into a hearty guffaw, so hearty, in fact, that she dropped down onto her ass...
The former, slim and svelte vixen was gone.
Renamon was now a sweat-coated, dressing, sauce and condiment-caked, chunky and flabby, yet, oddly enough hourglass-shaped parody of her former self. With hips and waist flaring out, and a fat, doughy as spreading out even more, especially now, as she sat, with thighs meeting each other in the middle somewhere, no matter how distantly spread they were (unless she was doing splits, which she, surprisingly, was still quite capable of), and a big, churning, sweaty dough of a stomach occupying her lap, a pair of missile shaped, engorged, pert and perky, full-looking breasts stacked atop, with areolae and nipples thickened, puffed up slightly, and enlarged, and thick love handles on each side, with a thicker back, chunky, meaty arms stretching the ruined sleeves, padded shoulder with a ring-shaped neckfat and multiple chins united in the middle, against the invading cheeks.
She was sweating from her every crevice, still belching, and...
A low rumble came from somewhere under her abdominal fat, and the next second, a massive fart rippled from between her adipose-coated ass cheeks, with a volume and stench that would've made a cow jealous.
As the fart felt suspiciously wet, the fox digimon clenched her muscles to see if anything came forward.
Presently, it didn't...
"Hmmm... My ass-sweat musta seeped in..." she pondered, feeling a chuckle rise from he through, now in a considerable deeper voice than what she had in the beginning.
"Oh well..." she muttered "Better luck next time..." and she burst out into a guffaw again.
***
Guilmon could only stare at the sacks of blubber in front of him. He couldn't believe it.
It looked like her (vaguely)...
It sounded like her (if deeper)...
Yet, the Renamon he knew was an exercise-freak if he ever saw one. This digital fox was, for all intents and purposes, a fatty. Not to mention that her mannerism and sense of humor was far off from the often cold and formal vixen. Heck, the only thing that wasn't engulfed in fat on her was her tail, which just kept wagging...
He couldn't, for his life, understand it. This fat slob in front of him, IF she's Renamon, would be depressed, or at least lethargic, to be in such a shape. Most people would be.
Guilmon plucked up courage, and walked over to her.
"Renamon?"
The fatty fox digimon looked up.
"Oh, hiyya Guilmon!" she greeted her cheerily "Care to help a girl out?" she asked, holding out her arms (and thus, revealing the grease that coated them).
Slightly disgusted, the draconic digimon grasped her arms, and helped her stand up. Well, he tried, but she mostly needed him as a form of leverage to hold her balance. So she jumped up into a stand, slamming her body right into the now considerably smaller digimon, giving him a face full of "Sugartits" and "Sauce-cleavage", as well as leaving a coat of sweat on him.
Guilmon tumbled back, gazing up at her with both shock, surprise and awe.
"So..." she asked, whilst scratching her butt "Watcha' planning on doin' now?"
He thought for a moment, given her a once-over.
"Care for a swim?" he asked, finally.  | Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
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