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Fall of the blade dancer (Irelia X Soraka) #3
🕑 Added 2025-04-14 09:35:09 +0000 UTCAt two months of confinement, Irelia had reached approximately 225kg, and her mobility had decreased drastically. Simply standing required monumental effort, and walking more than a few steps left her gasping for breath. Her once-graceful body had transformed completely—her face now fuller and rounder than before, her arms jiggled dramatically with every movement, and her stomach had developed distinct rolls that hung pendulously when she stood.
Most humiliating of all, her injured leg had healed enough that she could have technically resumed light training, but her massive size made this practically impossible.
"I need to start exercising again." Irelia insisted one afternoon as Soraka helped her stand.
Soraka nodded cautiously. "We can try some gentle movements, but you need to be careful."
She gripped Soraka's now-muscular arms for support as she rose unsteadily to her feet. The contrast between them had become almost comical—Irelia, once the epitome of athletic grace, now wobbling beneath her own immense weight, while Soraka, transformed by two months of physical activity, stood firm at a toned 65kg, her once-soft body now defined by subtle muscle.
Irelia took a tentative step forward, her massive thighs rubbing painfully together, her breath already coming in short gasps. "This is... harder than I expected," she admitted, sweat beading on her forehead from this minimal exertion.
"Take it slowly," Soraka encouraged, her hands firmly supporting Irelia's soft waist. "You're doing well."
But after just three steps, disaster struck. Irelia's balance shifted, her unfamiliar body's center of gravity betraying her. She stumbled, her arms windmilling desperately as her enormous bulk began to topple forward.
"Irelia!" Soraka cried, lunging to catch her. Despite her newfound strength, even Soraka couldn't fully arrest the momentum of Irelia's fall. They both went down, Irelia landing heavily atop the healer with a cry of alarm.
"Oof!" The air rushed from Soraka's lungs as Irelia's substantial weight pressed her into the floor. For a moment they lay there, Irelia mortified, her soft body completely covering Soraka's smaller frame.
"I'm sorry! I'm crushing you!" Irelia gasped, trying unsuccessfully to roll off. Her limbs flailed uselessly, her massive body refusing to obey her commands.
But Soraka wasn't pushing her away. Instead, the healer's hands came to rest on Irelia's wide hips, steadying her. "It's... okay," Soraka managed, her voice strangely breathless. "Just... give me a moment."
Their faces were inches apart, Irelia's plump cheeks flushed with exertion and embarrassment, Soraka's eyes wide with... was that fear? No, Irelia realized with shock, it was something else entirely.
"Soraka?" Irelia questioned, confused by the healer's expression.
In answer, Soraka did something completely unexpected. She lifted her head slightly and pressed her lips against Irelia's in a gentle but deliberate kiss.
Irelia froze, too shocked to respond. When Soraka pulled back, her lavender cheeks were darkened with a deep blush.
"I'm sorry," Soraka whispered. "I shouldn't have—"
"What was that?" Irelia demanded, finally managing to roll her bulk to the side, freeing Soraka. She lay on her back, breathing heavily from the exertion, her enormous breasts spilling to the sides.
Soraka sat up, looking everywhere but at Irelia. "I... I've been having feelings. Watching you change, becoming so... different. I know I shouldn't, especially since this transformation distresses you, but I find you... incredibly attractive this way."
Irelia stared at her in disbelief. "Attractive? Look at me, Soraka! I'm enormous! I can barely walk!" She gestured at her vastly expanded body in disgust.
"I know. And I feel terrible about enjoying it." Soraka's voice dropped to a whisper. "But seeing you like this, so soft, so different from the untouchable warrior you once were... it does something to me."
Irelia struggled to process this confession. "So you like that I've become weak? That I'm helpless?" Anger flared in her voice.
"No! Well, not exactly." Soraka moved closer, hesitantly placing a hand on Irelia's heaving belly. "I admire your strength, always have. But there's something incredibly intimate about caring for you, about watching you change. About being the only one who sees the proud blade dancer in this new form."
Despite her outrage, Irelia couldn't deny the electric tingle that spread from where Soraka's hand rested on her stomach. Her enhanced sensitivity made even this simple touch feel intensely pleasurable.
"And I've noticed how your body responds to my touch," Soraka continued, her voice gaining confidence as her fingers traced small circles on Irelia's flesh. "How you gasp when I help you bathe, how your skin flushes when I apply healing ointments."
"That's just... sensitivity from rapid weight gain," Irelia protested weakly, even as her body betrayed her with a small shiver of pleasure.
Soraka's hand moved boldly upward, cupping one of Irelia's massive breasts through her clothes. "Is it? Then why does your heart race when I touch you like this?"
"Ah!" Irelia couldn't suppress a moan, her nipples hardening instantly at the contact. "S-Soraka, this isn't right—"
"Tell me to stop, and I will," Soraka whispered, leaning closer, her breath warm against Irelia's neck. "But first, be honest with yourself about what you want."
What did she want? Irelia's mind raced in confusion. She hated what had happened to her body, hated her weakness, her dependence. But these past weeks with Soraka had awakened something in her—a need for touch, for intimacy, that she'd never acknowledged before.
And Soraka's transformation had not escaped her notice either. The healer's newly toned body, the strength in her once-soft arms, the confidence in her movements—all of it stirred something deep within Irelia.
"I... I don't know what I want," Irelia admitted finally, tears of confusion welling in her eyes.
Soraka nodded, removing her hand reluctantly. "Then we'll wait until you do." She helped Irelia sit up, then assisted her back to the bed with surprising strength. "But know this—I find you beautiful, Irelia. Not despite your changes, but because of them. Because they show me a side of you I never thought I'd see—vulnerable, uncertain, human."
As Irelia settled onto the bed, breathing heavily from even this small exertion, Soraka turned to leave. "I'll bring dinner in an hour. Think about what I said."
After Soraka left, Irelia lay in confused silence, her hands roaming over her vastly changed body. Each touch sent sparks of pleasure through her heightened nerves. When her fingers brushed her nipples, she gasped at the intensity of sensation—so much stronger than she remembered from her former body.
Had the magical enhancement of her size also enhanced her capacity for pleasure? The thought was both terrifying and intriguing.
Later, when Soraka returned with a laden tray of food, Irelia watched her with new awareness. The healer moved with a grace that reminded Irelia of her own former abilities, her body now strong in ways that Irelia's was not.
As Soraka fed her—something that had become necessary as Irelia's arms could no longer comfortably reach her own mouth due to their increasing girth—Irelia found herself focusing on the healer's lips, remembering their softness against her own.
"Soraka," she said suddenly, after swallowing a spoonful of rich stew.
"Yes?" The healer paused, spoon hovering mid-air.
"I've been thinking about what you said." Irelia took a deep breath, her enormous breasts rising with the movement. "I don't understand these feelings, and I still hate what's happened to my body. But I... I don't want you to stop touching me."
Soraka's eyes widened, then darkened with desire. She set down the spoon carefully. "Are you sure?"
In answer, Irelia reached out, pulling Soraka toward her with surprising strength. Their lips met again, this time with Irelia's full participation, and something new and dangerous ignited between them.
Something that would change everything.
---
At approximately 315kg, three months into her confinement, Irelia had reached a point where even the simplest movements required assistance. Her body had expanded in ways she could never have imagined—her face now framed by full cheeks and a substantial double chin, her breasts enormous pillows that rested heavily on her massive belly, which itself had developed multiple distinct rolls and hung pendulously to her thighs when she sat.
Her legs, once capable of the most intricate blade dancing maneuvers, had grown so thick they could barely close together, forcing her to waddle on the rare occasions she attempted to walk.
Yet alongside this physical transformation, another change had taken place—one far more unexpected. What had begun as confused attraction between Irelia and Soraka had blossomed into an intense physical relationship, complicated by their drastically different situations.
"More," Irelia gasped, lying naked on her reinforced bed as Soraka's skilled fingers explored the sensitive folds of flesh beneath her enormous belly. "Please, don't stop—ah♥!"
Soraka smiled, her toned body gleaming with sweat as she worked. At a svelte, muscular 60kg, she now possessed the strength and endurance to physically manipulate Irelia's massive form in ways the blade dancer could no longer manage herself. The role reversal was complete—the healer now powerful and dominant, the warrior helpless and receptive.
"So demanding," Soraka teased, her fingers finding exactly the right spot to make Irelia writhe in pleasure. "What happened to the proud blade dancer who used to look down on my softness?"
"Don't—ah!♥—don't remind me," Irelia moaned, her multiple chins quivering as her head tossed in ecstasy. Her heightened sensitivity made every touch almost unbearably intense, pleasure and humiliation blending into a confusing cocktail of emotion.
Soraka leaned down, her lips brushing Irelia's ear. "But I like reminding you. I like seeing the mighty Irelia reduced to begging for my touch." Her free hand kneaded one of Irelia's massive breasts, pinching the nipple just hard enough to make Irelia cry out. "Seeing how your body betrays you, growing larger even as you claim to hate it."
"I do hate it," Irelia insisted, even as her hips bucked against Soraka's hand, seeking more contact. "I'm trapped in this—oh gods♥—this prison of flesh."
"A prison you make larger each day," Soraka observed, gesturing toward the empty plates on the bedside table. Despite her complaints, Irelia's appetite had continued to grow, and she now consumed enough food for 10 people at each meal. "I stopped bringing extra food weeks ago, yet you keep sending servants to the market for more."
Irelia turned her face away in shame. It was true—her hunger had become insatiable, a constant gnawing need that drove her to consume far beyond what Soraka provided. "I can't help it," she whispered. "It's like there's a void inside me that can't be filled."
Soraka's expression softened momentarily, genuine concern replacing her dominant persona. "The magical effect should have stabilized by now. I've consulted every text I can find."
"Then why am I still growing?" Irelia asked, desperation in her voice.
Soraka hesitated, then spoke the truth they'd both been avoiding. "Because some part of you wants to, Irelia. The magic amplified an existing tendency, but it's your choices keeping it going."
"That's not true!" Irelia protested, struggling to sit up but failing, her enormous body refusing to cooperate. "Why would I want this? To be helpless, useless?"
"Not useless," Soraka corrected, her hands resuming their intimate exploration of Irelia's folds and creases. "Different. Free from expectations. Free from the constant discipline and control you've maintained your entire life."
Her fingers found a particularly sensitive spot between Irelia's thighs, making the blade dancer gasp and arch as much as her bulk allowed. "And there are... compensations for your new condition, aren't there?"
It was true, though Irelia was reluctant to admit it. The heightened sensitivity of her expanded flesh meant she experienced pleasure more intensely than ever before. What had begun as an embarrassing side effect had become a source of addiction—each touch, each caress, sent waves of ecstasy through her that her former athletic body could never have experienced.
"Show me," Soraka commanded softly, her fingers working their magic. "Show me how much you love what I do to you."
Unable to resist, Irelia surrendered to the building pressure, her massive body quaking as waves of pleasure crashed through her. "Soraka! Oh gods♥! Yes♥! Yes♥!" she cried out, beyond caring about dignity or pride.
As Irelia lay panting in the aftermath, Soraka gently wiped her sweaty brow. "Beautiful," the healer murmured, her expression both tender and possessive. "My beautiful, soft warrior."
The pet name sent a conflicting wave of humiliation and pleasure through Irelia. She had become Soraka's in a way she'd never anticipated—dependent not just for care but now for fulfillment, for the exquisite pleasure only the healer seemed able to provide.
Later, as Soraka helped Irelia into a bathing position—a complicated affair involving multiple supports and cushions to accommodate her enormous form—the blade dancer caught sight of herself in the mirror. The reflection shocked her anew, as it did each time. Where once had stood a proud, lethal warrior now sat a mountain of soft flesh, utterly transformed.
"What am I becoming?" she whispered, watching a tear slide down her plump cheek.
Soraka, methodically washing the folds and creases of Irelia's body—places the blade dancer could no longer reach herself—looked up with unexpected seriousness. "Whatever you choose to become, Irelia. The magic may have started this transformation, but only you can decide where it ends."
"Can it end?" Irelia asked, genuine fear in her voice. "Or will I just keep growing until I can't move at all?"
Soraka's hands paused in their washing. "There might be a way to reverse the effect," she admitted slowly. "A purification ritual I've been researching. But it would require complete commitment from you—no more secret eating, no more indulgence."
"I could do it," Irelia said quickly, hope flaring. "I would do anything to be myself again."
Soraka nodded, but something in her expression seemed reserved, almost sad. "We can begin tomorrow, if you're certain."
"I am," Irelia insisted. "Completely certain."
But that night, as Soraka slept beside her, Irelia found herself awakened by the familiar gnawing hunger. Through sheer force of habit, she reached for the hidden stash of sweets she'd begun keeping beneath her pillow. Only as the sugary taste melted on her tongue did she realize what she was doing.
Shame washed over her, but not enough to make her stop. One more night of indulgence, she told herself. Tomorrow would be different. Tomorrow, she would reclaim control.
But as she drifted back to sleep, her hands resting on the vast expanse of her belly, a treacherous part of her wondered if she truly wanted to change back at all.
