#brcm

“Ibuki… as yoOOUURRP!! Um! As your nurse…It’s my responsibility to make sure you aren’t pushing yourself with all your recent…conditions. And I…don’t think sampling your eating and belly rumbles are that bad, if I had to be objective…But-”

FFRRRRRPPPTTT!!!

“P-Please stop sneaking into other patients rooms…and mine…to sample their gas…That physical strain and breach of security is…a lot.”

“OUUUUURP! Aw, thanks for the hype train, you’re all so sweet! You all deserve, hnghhhh-!”

PFRRRTTTT!!!!

In the years since graduation, Sayori had become far more social…and yet never left her home. This almost oozing mass filled up her entire room, huge monitor fixed to her wall and keyboard and mouse resting on her chunky tits. Chip crumbs and soda stains covered the girl’s naked body, the face cam not needing censoring for how little of her body it could actually show. Streaming had been a great way for her to make an impact! Lots of other chunky friends, getting to inspire a lot of fans insecure about their body, playing games with her old club mates. Heck, her girlfriend Monika made a great stream mod! After all, she said she knew code well. Though despite her niche of half gamer half onlyfans streamer, she wasn’t always playing the “mainline” games.

"Hfff... Okay, sho... Let'sh seeh here..." Tsubasa sighed, looking down at the floor plan. Most of the rest of the crew from one miss Kuwana's had already dissipated, leaving the mountainous mechanic and her client alone. "Sheveral cooking, prehparing, ahnd feehding apparatuses arouhnd the home, linked to... Okumuruh Foodsh central shupply chain... Hfff... Auhtomahtic aides... for grashping, ashishting, and... um... pleashuring, all validated occupantsh... Fully automated climate controlsh... hffff. Draining and waterproofing, to accomodatingh for dahmp flooring. A schentrahl controhl in the west offische, and... hfff, and an auxshihlluary in thhe bedroom..."

The absolutely gigantic house had underwent a equally gigantic makeover, all for its, again, gigantic occupant. Huge touchscreens made for hamburger-sized hands, hooks designed to gently grab and right fallen flabpiles, assistive chairs and beds on tank like treads, feeding tubes, sushi-restaurant-like serving conveyors, and all manner of highly expensive industrial tech adorned every wall, ensuring for as long as the client stayed, she'd hardly need to walk, barely need to call to have food delivered straight into her mouth, and most of all, would definitely not need to bathe. Just describing it was making Tsubasa breathless, and not just because she was the size of a car. "Ahnd ahll... for... 80 million... yen."

"Houurp... Shtill can't beliehve Miss Okumura would be, uh... shuch a fan of her own work... hhhff... Pleashure to work ash your new... on-shite technicahl troubleshootehr, Haru." She sighed. This was what she signed up for, both as head designer and one of the few people who she trusted to know how to fix all of this. The mechanical genius, even after all her years of expertise, found herself overwhelmed.

If only because Haru was currently as big as five of her.

“Mhhrrp…Yesh, shlikewishe…Ihm impreshed by how quick-” BPPRRTT!!! “-shet up wash…Parduhn muh…”

Haru took a solid minute before she could respond, choking on a massive burger with a belch rumbling her throat. Her massive body was already strained as she sat back in an oversized sweat stained couch. Her arms were straining to raise up and she barely could waddle in the first place, but her prior life as a Phantom Thief meant she was more than immobile. Still, this woman needed so much as she continued to enable herself, addicted to her own company’s overly successful food company. She was bused except for pink, food stained blankets covering the nipples of her flabby tits. As much as she enjoyed her life, she desperately needed more help as she continued to fumigate her home and crush appliance. Wanting to keep a level of autonomy for herself, she contacted the best engineer and mechanic for this, someone already an expert in prior installations. It was only until he saw the (not equally but impressively) obese woman heaving as she set systems up for a woman almost ten times fatter than her usual clientele.

“Mghhh…I wissh dere wush uhny bettuh way uh cuhld thunk you…I know uhm noht duh musht flatterun pershun…or thut I musht look irreshponshible or like another shalluh richsh CHEO…Buht shank you sho sho mucsh Missh Kuwana…If theresh anyshing I cuhn evuhduh tuh help yuh, let meh nuh…”

The unholy, fatass specter approaches... not the Famine of Plenty, but a certain bus, in a certain city of dystopias and legends, filled with certain obese passengers. It's so dark in this city! Far better than that sterile lab she got trapped in, before they all broke down one day. Now, then... she probably couldn't take all of them on at once, so who to target? Which lardy lady would isolate herself first?

PFFFRTTTT!!!

Outis grunted as her gas poured out, happy she was at least alone for that foul release. She enjoyed not having to lower herself to “excuse mes” or the teasing from Rodion and Ishmael. Dante, who usually took a night watch when the bus was in the Backstreets, had turned in due to an exhausting day. Outis was more than happy to appease her manager and sat alone in the front of the bus. Even in rigid seats, she felt comfortable in the quiet. But slowly…something felt off. Even under the blubber she had, it was if a chill ran down her spine. Quickly as she could, the Sinner gripped her kopis and stepped towards the entrance of the bus.