#ishigaki

The monitor's plump hands lay atop the ones squeezing at her doughy rolls, a puckish smile spreading across her round cheeks. "You should go deeper. There's plenty there after all for you to sink into~" She presses down, her bountiful flesh slowly swallowing up both sets of fingers until they've sunken deep in her softness. However, her gaze falls upon the wrists still free from the blubbery mire, causing her to frown slightly. "Mmmm...not even the wrists yet, hm? I need serious correction for slacking off on my new diet..."

Watching the storm roll in over the ocean here in Ishigaki. Nature's contrast is absolutely mesmerizing—dark storm clouds meeting bright, endless skies. Sitting here with a warm brew, just watching the world paint itself.

Ishigaki Island in Okinawa by Atsushi Tamura

Miyara River Ishigaki Island

The coastal defense ship has taken quite well to the base's encouragement. From a scrawny deviant to the full-figured troublemaker that relished the bedframe creaking underneath her bulk as ever more pounds were added, Ishigaki had thoroughly immersed herself in the Admiral's indulgent culture. Her desk was practically covered in dishes all licked clean of their contents, while the trash can had been stuffed to the brim with wrappers and bags. Buttons littered the floor with burst threads, a testament to the frequency of her overgrowth. Even now, her double-rolled gut pushing the mint green pajamas apart while her thighs threatened to split the leg with ease, her hunger was building once again. A thickened hand pat its apex gently, Ishigaki licking her lips in anticipation. "Oh? Who could be visiting me at this hour~?"

"Mmmm...savory and sweet, in equal measures. That's to say, sweet and salty foods are what I crave the most~ Nothing is better than fresh meat buns or hot, basted teriyaki from the grill."

The picture is what caught her attention first as soon as she opened the box. While the delightful aroma of cuisine heavy as the kind she loved crafting for the unfortunate kanmusu was certainly attractive, she couldn't help but be utterly enthralled with a picture of her doppelganger... An utterly whalish reflection. Black loafers nearly swallowed up by cottage-cheese cankles, threatening to explode with the next poundage added, a miserable excuse for a skirt unable to cover the vast expanse of her dimpled backside. This Ishigaki was normally the one to turn her fellow shipgirls into great, heaving tubs of lard, fatter and fatter until she couldn't squeeze out of the galley. However, the sight of a mirror self subject to her own whimsy... Her lips curled into a devilish smirk as she stuffed the coordinates into her skirt pocket before tucking in to the offerings for her waistline's demise. I desire this very much...~ It's time for me to experience it myself. After all, in a way I already have~