James Duke
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Mercy's Health Experiments Part 1/2
🕑 Added 2025-05-11 18:04:12 +0000 UTCTags: Extreme weight gain, light slob, corruption, sex, and light health issues
Part 2: https://www.patreon.com/posts/mercys-healthy-2-132040913
--- Chapter 1 ---
Angela Ziegler stepped out of the car. She paid the fare for the cab and bid the driver a fond farewell. As the car turned and drove away, she turned and faced her destination. An imposing structure rose in front of her. At once it seemed part mansion, part hospital, and part warehouse. It was obvious that the original structure had been “improved” as time had gone on. The additions were obviously purposeful but Angela could only guess at their purpose. She walked forward, tugging on her sweater in an effort to look as presentable as possible. Beyond presentable, Angela was stunningly beautiful. It was trite to compare her to an angel, but other descriptions all fell short. She was tall with short, blonde hair falling just past her ears. She walked with her caduceus staff, its healing light falling ever about her. Bathing in the healing rays had kept her skin youthful and perfect. There was not one blemish upon the doctor, nary a wrinkle or hint of aging. She had never been so much as a pound overweight. Her beauty was only enhanced as the large house attempted to swallow it. She walked up to the front door, pushing the call button.
“Angela Zielger,” The Swiss woman spoke into the microphone below camera on the door.
“Aaaah, coming!” A familiar voice spoke to Angela. Dr.Trasque had been a colleague of hers on several projects. Though the two had gone their separate ways with the forming of the Overwatch initiative. Buried in work, she had been to distracted to keep up with her former friend. His invitation had come as a surprise to her, though a pleasant one. Angela brushed her skirt, making sure that it was as lovely as her body. Just as she finished the door opened.
“Angela! As ravishing as ever!” Dr. Lucas Trasque filled the doorframe. He was tall and well built, despite being in his forties. The years had touched him noticeably, but not unkindly. His hair was gray, but well groomed. He wore an expensive suit, leaning on a rich cane. Though older, there was more than enough muscle to fill out his suit. There was an air of sophistication to him now, replacing the youthful vigor that he had when working with Angela. He stepped forward and offered his hand. Angela gave hers. She expected a polite shake, but received a quick kiss instead. Lucas straightened quickly, almost embarrassed. “Apologies, I’ve been working with some royals lately.”
Angela went to speak, realizing that a blush was covering her face. She put a hand to her mouth, trying to suppress a laugh. “I don’t mind! It’s nice to see someone still has some formality.”
“Well, I will try to tone it down anyway.” Lucas moved, ushering Angela into the house with a strong arm. She bowed politely, laughing again, and walked in. “This is supposed to be a social visit after all!” He led Angela through the various hallways of his house. The inside of the house was as strange and piecemeal as the outside. Hallways that started as rich, antique wood would terminate in hospital tile. There was a labyrinth of doors and corridors, so dizzying that Angela could hardly keep up with them. Yet, Lucas walked through them all with ease. He did not stop once, talking blithely as he led Angela along. “Sorry for the mess, I’ve been undertaking some rather vast renovations.” Lucas turned for a moment, just as he placed emphasis on the large scope of the housing project. For a moment, Angela felt as though she was being studied. Lucas turned quickly, returning to the strange tour. “I just couldn’t ever seem to keep work at work. A project that I had been working on grew out of hand, so I had to adapt!” He finished with such passion that Angela almost missed the second portion of emphasis. Lucas was hinting at something that she couldn't even begin to guess at. However, she was not uninterested.
“You really haven’t changed then!” She pushed her long legs to walk faster. “Never leaving the lab on time, sleeping in the waiting room.” She elbowed her old accomplice in research. “For a man working to cure heart attacks, you were close to giving yourself one.” She smiled, hinting at work on the chance he might reveal more about his current projects.
“I came pretty close, you will have to give me that.” Lucas’ smile was cut short as he rushed to qualify. “Close to curing them, that is!” He pushed open the final door with his cane, leading them both into a dining room. “For now I have just settled on mitigating them. Turning a tiger into a kitten.” The eccentric whirled his cane against an imaginary foe.
“Really?” Anglea had not heard Lucas’ name in years. Certainly, she would have heard of the steps forward he had made. Further, any advancements that were so revolutionary would have come back to her by some channel or another. “I hadn’t heard of anything.” She tried to play the accusation off as cute chit chat. “How could Lucas Trasque keep anything like that quiet?’ Mercy winked.
“Well. . .it's. . .complicated.” Lucas rubbed the back of his neck. He did not shy away from the conversation though, instead pulling a remote from his pocket. The tall man led Angela into a room and gave her a seat. “It might be easier to show you, but. . .” Lucas grew serious for a moment. His eyes met Angela’s and he held them silently. It was a grave look, more firm than Lucas had been in his entire life. “If I show you this, you cannot speak of it to anyone else. Angela, this is my life’s work and. . .it is what she wanted.”
“She?” Angela asked. Lucas did not reply and a silence held over the room. Angela finally relented, though she was afraid of whatever was coming for her. She could not imagine what sort of mad science Lucas had been up to or what it had done to the people involved. “Fine.” Anglea nodded. “You had better not have hurt anyone though, Lucas. I will not forsake my commitment to Overwatch.”
“Rather the contrary, Angela.” Lucas clicked several buttons on the remote, dimming the lights and lower a large television screen. “I was doing exactly what was asked of me. Further, I even spared her from the worst of the consequences. The screen sprang to life as he spoke, first with a boot screen of dazzling colors and then with the recording of a young woman.
It was a woman that Angela knew very well. Olivia Colomar, better known to international security agencies as Sombra, was a hacker of incredible renown. The Mexican woman sat a table in comfy clothes with food piled around her. Her stomach was obviously full and bloated, pushing up through the gap in her shirt and pants. Food smeared her face, messy after apparent hours of eating. She turned to the camera and gave a wry smile. Though no sound played, Angela could read her lips well enough. Sombra was asking for more.
“She came to me with an interesting problem.” Lucas flipped to another scene. Sombra was fatter, the result of maybe a couple months worth of eating. Far beyond chubby, Sombra looked as if she was pushing her way towards 300 pounds. Her clothes were stained from endless meals and she had been somewhat negligent in her showering. Yet, Sombra was obviously overjoyed. She had stepped onto a scale as was watching the numbers rise. To see the final tally, the tan woman had to lift her gut out of the way. When she saw it, she began to jump. Fat clashed upon fat as she celebrated. “She was tired of the live she had lived before. It had been nothing but pain and struggle. She wanted something else: a life rich with indulgence.” Lucas moved to the next video clip.
Sombra was waddling down the hallway, her gut swinging like a church bell under her hospital gown. She was so fat that she had to put one hand on the wall and hold a cane in the other. Each step was slow and clumsy, more her throwing her weight than anything else. Any and all grace had been swallowed by gluttonous ambition. Angela also noticed a network of tubes running from her arm, trailing up into an IV machine pushed along behind her. The nurses gabbed with Sombra, who spoke in great and gusty wheezes. Angela could see various numbers on the machine, reading how disastrously unhealthy Sombra had become. Some people could hit 600 without many issues. Sombra was not one of those people. Angela looked back at Lucas. She searched him for an explanation. He moved on to the next clip.
“I had to work hard, applying everything I knew about the human body to accomplish what she wanted.” Sombra was in bed this time, a mass of sweating and seething obesity. She was fed via platters, with nurses hauling buckets of food for her to sloppily gorge on. Waves of fat rolled up and down her vast bulk as she fed. Her limp and useless arms hung down onto stacks of pillows, plastic tubing for intravenous medicine flowing out. Her purple hair was the only familiar marking. Angela realized with some surprise that she wouldn’t have known it was Sombra. The shot lingered on the feeding, Sombra immersed in a grotesque ritual of gluttony. She gathered as much food as she could into her mouth, but let it fall out as she chewed with her mouth hanging open. The orgy of food was brought to a halt as a series of spasm took Sombra. Her eyes dilated and sensors flashed. Though Angela could not hear anything, she knew exactly what was happening. A heart attack.
“Though we could not prevent them, we could curb the worst of her symptoms.” The scene continued to play. The nurses held Sombra’s puffy, fat hands but did nothing else. Blue liquid flowed through the tubes, making its way into the hyper-obese woman’s system. She gasped as the cardiac emergency continued. Yet, as with the other scenes, Angela could only see enjoyment across the blob’s face. This time, Angela noted with a bit of awkwardness, there was obvious sexual gratification. Sombra loved what was happening to her. As she reached that climax, the medicine took hold and she calmed down. Her pulse and blood pressure returned to normal, or at least as normal as could be expected. “That was still when she was getting used to the drug. It has to be administered reguarly until the patient has gotten used to it. Then, it is only necessary for large emergencies.” Lucas stepped in front of the screen, looking down at Angela. “I should also add. . .it has fully kept her other conditions in check.” He clicked and brought up scans of a lab report. “In a way, she is healthier than you or I.”
Angela scanned the report. Diabetes, staggeringly high blood pressure, various heart irregularities; the list of issues continued on and on. Nothing on the chart was less than immediate hospitalization in severity. However, importantly, the readings were all lower than they should be. It was as if an invisible dam was holding back the flood of consequences. By all accounts, Lucas had done exactly what he had said. He had curbed the worst of Sombra’s issues, allowing her to become the grease laden mess she saw on the screen. Angela hated to admit it, but she was more than a little intrigued. There was a tug on her soul that was more than just professional curiosity.
“Lucas. . .is she. . .still?” Angela put her mouth around the words and her heart around a bubbling desire.
“She is.” Lucas nodded. He changed the screen again. This time Angela could tell it was a live feed. Sombra hardly seemed human any more. She was a mass of rolling fat, sliding across many crushed and sweat stained mattresses. Her bulk seemed to constantly undulate, provoked by mechanisms that Angela could only guess at. The Mexican woman lay in comfort, filling out the lavish room she had been brought to. Though a warehouse, it had been decorated to reflect something of the class and sophistication that Lucas loved. Wires and tubes twisted and turned through the air, pumping oxygen or food or medicine into the gluttonous entity. For a moment, Angela caught a glimpse of Sombra’s face before another wave of moving fat hid it. The image was then further obscured by Lucas standing in front of it. “If you’re interested, we could visit her in person. You could feed her yourself.” He extended a hand to help her out of the chair.
Angela looked at the hand offered to her. Desire bubbled in her heart. She was starting to put words to the emotions that had sprung up as she watched Sombra’s transformation. There was something far more potent than intellectual curiosity within her. Terrifying and wonderful, she finally found the words to describe what she wanted. “Feed her?” Angela asked rhetorically as she took his hand. “I want to BE her.”
If Lucas was surprised, he did not show it. Rather, he helped Angela out of her chair. He pulled her just a hair too close. “That’s quite the commitment. Do you think you can handle it?” His voice was husky. “You would have to do everything that I say.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve followed your lead on a project.” Angela stepped closer still, leaving only a hair’s breadth between them. She could feel her heart beating, pulsing with life. What would it feel like in several months, when she was starting to resemble Sombra? She was dying to find out. “Just lead me well.” She put a hand on Lucas’ arm. It moved towards her, starting to tug up her sweater. Angela followed Lucas’ lead.
Soon the couple were pinned against the television. Lucas had the foresight to flick the remote one last time, turning the volume on. The livestream of Sombra played at its fullest volume. Angela was fucked to the sounds of rolls squelching, medical instruments beeping, and food chugging through feeding tubes into an already overstuffed maw. Her shoulder blades bumped against the television. Lucas was in front of her, one hand caressing her shoulder and the other starting to lift her up. Angela moaned as she wrapped her legs around him, accepting his cock. He was strong enough to lift her and fuck her at the same time, but that would change. Quickly. Days would go by, with her gaining more and more weight. Her body would collapse, the systems keeping it functioning failing one by one. It was only Lucas and his series of medical cures that would be her lifeline. Beyond a lifeline, it would be a gateway.
“You’re. . .aaaah. . .going to. . .ruin me.” Angela said between the thrusts of Lucas’ hips. He was strong but not overpowering. He worked his body like a tiger, all sinews and instinct. As Angela rode his cock, her back moved up and down upon the television. The sounds of Sombra grew louder as her feeding pumps were increased. Gurgling and slurping sounded louder than the two’s moans and half whispered pillow talk. Angela could not help but to think about what this would feel like when her belly drooped onto her thighs. Lucas would have to fuck her in a bed, or the floor once the bed collapsed under her weight.
“You’re going to. . .ruin. . .yourself.” Lucas grunted, his member enveloped by wetness. Angela squirmed, the last bit of sex she would ever have as a truly healthy, thin woman. He wanted her to enjoy this, to be able to enshrine it as a memory before a lifetime of escalating health issues. She would submit to him, giving her mind, body, and soul to him to mold into a creature of reckless indulgence. There would be no return. Mercy would retire from Overwatch and all of her endeavors. Meanwhile, Angela Zieglar would grow into a health catastrophe. Lucas thrust harder, spurred on by what would happen to Angela and his role in it. “I’m going. . .to. . .save you!”
Waves of pleasure broke over the scientist as she heard the words. A lifetime of saving others would be thrown away as she became the one in need of constant assistance. The thoughts were interrupted as Lucas buried his face in her breasts, taking one in his mouth. She gasped as his thrusts came faster, her own undulations struggling to keep up. Her breasts bobbed up and down, even the one Lucas was currently toying with. Angela imagined how swollen and fat they would get, drooping down onto a belly which hung past her knees. She would be a wobbling pile of corrupted fat, fit only for growing and fucking. That was, if she was still healthy enough for sex. She hadn’t asked Lucas if Sombra was capable of intercourse. The television gave an answer.
Sombra moaned loudly as one of her sex pistons fired up. The large vibrator lay under her fat folds, springing into erotic motion on a timer coinciding with her feeding. The machine vibrated as it thrust deep into her thousands of pounds of fat. The noise she made rumbled out through her oxygen mask, was picked up by the mics surrounding her, and then broadcast into the room with Lucas and Angela. The noise was as erotic as it was startling. Angela gasped, her back arching as she hit climax. Lucas followed seconds later, sending Angela into another fit. A third came moments after, when Angela realized that one day it would be her making those desperate, horny , wheezing gasps.
--- Chapter 2 ---
Angela walked arm in arm with Lucas towards an austere and imposing building. It was a lovely building, erected long before the Omnic crisis and managing to last mostly unharmed through the worst of the turbulent times to follow. Now, many decades later and with the world in a relative state of peace, it was allowed to flourish. Lights hung upon the marble facade of the building, mimicking falling mist. The two stepped under the light-mist and into a world of decadence and wealth.
“You sure this isn’t going to be too much?” Lucas asked, casting a sidelong glance at Angela. She was filling up every inch of a red cocktail dress with her increasingly voluptuous body.
“Please. I’ve been to my fair share of galas.” She rolled her eyes and leaned her head on Lucas’ shoulder. “Though maybe not with someone so cute.” Her breasts found their way onto his arm, warming his biceps. Angela was just beginning to push her way past 140. Days upon days of constant, sloppy indulgence had been good to her body. The doctor now found herself sporting breasts that were several sizes bigger, quite close to being ungodly huge. They sloshed back and forth over a spare tire belly, seemingly existing just to help balance out Angela’s preposterously heavy top. For a woman trying to break down her figure and lifestyle, fattening up had done nothing but enhance it.
Lucas patted Angela’s arm. “Well, it won’t take long for you to be unable to attend.” Angela could feel his eyes drifting to her butt, which wiggled along behind them. It was only slightly behind her stomach in terms of growth, but still chubby enough to press her panties into the dress. “Heart attacks and diabetic comas make for bad parties.”
“But wonderful sex.” Angela straightened and held Lucas’ gaze. “Anyway, I hope you will be swapping galas for medical examinations and conferences when I get big enough.”
Lucas clapped a hand on Anegla’s rear, cutting the banter short. His hand was immersed in undulating softness. He was slow to remove his palm, letting it absorb all the ripples as they traveled about the chubby semi-sphere. “You just worry about making yourself that size.” He squeezed the wobbling cheek, pressing his desire into Angela’s soul. “Otherwise it will just be Sombra getting the good life.” Talking about the deviancy to come sent a thrill through both of them. Blasé references to heart attacks and other impending health dooms were always good to inflame their lust.
“Right away.” Angela gave a mock salute and headed towards the refreshments. The party had several different buffet lines, with open bars to match. Perfect for a woman set on surpassing her limits at the expense of her health.
----
“BBBBLOOOORRRRUUUUP. . .mmmgghph. . .keep it. . .mmmghph. . .up.” Angela coached herself through the stuffing. She shoved another mini-burger into her mouth, letting the ketchup roll down her cheek. There were already several spots where ketchup had dripped down. Her hungry bosom had spared the dress, instead letting the condiment fall into the cavernous depths between her tits. She ate despite her body demanding that she slow down. The once cute belly had begun to push angrily into her dress, doing what it could to alert other people to pain Angela was putting it through. “Mgghph. . .come on. . .fatty. . .scarf it. . .down.” Angela did not even bother to leave the area of the buffet, merely leaning her chubby rear against one of the tables nearby.
“People are beginning to stare.” Lucas drifted by, having broken away from the earlier conversation he had been a part of. In any other context, the words would have been a warning of insult. Here it was a complement. “My runaway date, angrily or drunkenly packing her gut full of food and wine.” Lucas tried to hide his elation, making it a game. He lightly grabbed Angela’s arm, making it seem as though he was trying to stop her from taking another bite. Rather, he was pushing it into her mouth. A feeding under the guise of relationship unrest.
“Mmmmgghph. . .HOOORRRUUUP. . .oh that’s almost. . .too hot.” Angela blushed, forgetting herself in the swirl of emotions and sexuality. The blonde doctor had been too intent on the feeding to notice any reaction to her. Now, scanning the crowd through beer goggles, she saw scowls and smirks. She pretended to wrench her hand away from Lucas’ grasp. Angela Zeiglar, doctor and Overwatch agent, grabbed a large glass of wine and chugged it down. She swooned as intoxication dragged her further down. It was wonderful to be so lost to impulse and greed. “I’m going to. . .UUURRUP. . .keep melting down. . .mmmpgh. . .then!” The blonde whirled, almost losing her balance. She felt a stitch snap in her dress. Her face reddened further, though hardly from embarrassment. She left Lucas behind, trying to keep up their masquerade. Angela could play the part of a bimbo gone rogue, especially in the name of more food and booze.
“Yeeessh. . .hard night?” The voice was full of faux concern. Angela couldn’t tell where it came from at first, she was so disoriented from her partying. The woman made it easier, stepping around Angela, to the right of her and the buffet line. Angela continued loading up her plate, indulging the conversation only insofar as it got her more food and generated rumors. Her hand shook from the weight of the plate.
“Oh. . .mmmgghph. . .men.” Angela rolled her eyes and buried half a slice of cake into her mouth to mask her expression. She chewed quickly, already eager to stuff another in.
“Pigs and animals, all of them.” The woman was clearly trying to goad Angela into saying more. Angela debated how far she wanted to take things. “Especially that man.” The woman huffed. “I don’t know how well you know him. . .” She paused, hoping that Angela would take the bait. She did not, thus forcing the woman to continue. “I shouldn’t say this. . .but he has. . .some eccentricities.” She paused, again hoping that Angela would bite. The only thing the blonde bit into was another slice of cake. “. . .in the bedroom. Look, I wouldn’t say anything, but its a matter of safety. You should have seen what happened to the last person he was with. Mexican, skinny little thing. . .well. . .not for long.” The woman tossed her hair. “The last thing she was at she had a heart attack. Fell into the dinner table and crushed it under her weight. Haven’t seen her since. I think she died.”
Angela listened, feeling her thighs growing wet. Sombra had left more of an impression than she had imagined on Lucas’ social standing. It was up to Angela to do even more. “Thank you, I will have to speak to him about that.” Angela nodded and walked off. She could feel the woman gloating behind her, thinking Angela was about to take Lucas into the bathroom to argue. Instead, Angela was taking him there so he could feed her the final slice of cake and suck her nipples.
--- Chapter 3 ---
“Jeeze.” Angela said, looking down past her large breasts and sagging stomach. The numbers had finally stopped ticking up on the scale’s screen. 200 on the dot. It seemed amazing that she could even hit something so perfectly. It was the most recent of a series of auspicious signs. Angela squeezed her belly, flopping the drooping roll up and down. Her initial gains had been wonderfully breast centric. However, the past 60 pounds had been steadily evening things out. More than ever, each pound brought her away from the shining ideal of a curvy, angelic doctor. She was looking decidedly human now, imperfections coming starkly into focus.
“Someone is getting dimples on her ass.” Lucas came up behind his experiment and lover. His hand cupped her supple, creamy buttcheek. Angela tensed for a second as Lucas rubbed the aforementioned dimple. He was so sexually forward that the reserved and polite Swiss woman struggled to keep up. Further, Angela had to adjust to the elements of her weight gain being remarked upon. As much as she wanted to be Lucas’ feedee puppet, it was hard to overcome decades of societal programming.
“And someone else is getting grabby.” Angela spun, presenting her stomach and breasts for Lucas to grab at.
“You look amazing.” Lucas pulled Angela off the scale and into his arms. “200 pounds of Swiss butter and cream.” His hands pinched love handles and the beginnings of saddlebag thighs. Angela smiled, feeling shy. The attention was wonderful in its own way, but there were residual thoughts she had to deal with. Lucas felt Anegla’s trouble thoughts as small jiggles as she tensed up. He pulled her closer, an actual embrace rather than sexual innuendo. “Having second thoughts?” He asked.
“None!” Angela was quick to respond. She allowed Lucas to hold her, letting him feel her heft. Her legs relaxed, her newly acquired weight being shouldered by someone else. “I know I haven't really gained that much yet.” Angela’s chubby double chin bounced as she spoke. “Really, women put this kind of weight on all the time. At worst, I’m just. . .normal now.” She sighed, knowing her belly was slumping out more. Drooping rolls fell over pure white panties. “It’s the anticipation. One day I’ll wake up and. . .there will be an entirely new me.” Angela thought for a couple moments, wanting to lighten the mood. “Really, there could be three new me’s. . .if we go by weight.”
Lucas laughed, enjoying how much her mind was on the approaching milestones. “You’re thinking too much.” He kissed her, rubbing her chubby belly at the same time. It had been the same with Sombra. Radically altering one’s body was a tricky thing. No matter how much the ladies thought they were prepared, reality always came knocking. That was where he came in, though. It was his job to coach these ladies through their new lifestyles. By his guiding hand, Angela would achieve something amazing. She was already brimming with the same promise that Sombra had been. Something, perhaps their history together, told him that Angela would be able to go further. “Just enjoy the experience. Let that day come as a surprise.”
“I know. . .it’s just. . .”
“Don’t worry about the numbers.” Lucas tilted Angela’s chin up towards his. “Just worry about getting as much enjoyment as possible. This is supposed to be a vacation. . .just a more permanent one.”
“Pff. . .how many vacations have heart attacks?”
“Only the really fun ones.” Lucas spun Angela around, politely but firmly nudging her out of the bathroom. A nice, hearty snack would take her mind off of this business. The more Angela could focus on the fun of stuffing herself, the less she would worry about other things. Lucas walked with an arm around the chubby woman’s waist. It was the waning days of her having one. In the days to come, her hips, gut, and love handles would explode outward. There would be no trace of what had been before. “Trust me though,” Lucas said, giving one more piece of encouragement before turning Angela entirely towards gluttony. “You’re going to get bigger faster than you realize. . .and you will love it.”
--- Chapter 4 ---
Lucas had been proven right in every regard. As Angela tore her attention away from rising numbers and focused on indulgence, both her weight and the erotic desire she felt exploded. While 200 pounds had once been a milestone worth bragging about, Angela was now far beyond that. She had almost double in size, having reached 360 pounds. The plump, sensual doctor had once again been replaced by another incarnation. Rather than a svelte battlefield angel or a chubby socialite bombshell, she was a heaving pile of sweaty fat. Only traces remained of her classical beauty. Rather than glowing because of perfect skin, Angela glowed from the copious streams of sweat running out of her rolls. The former doctor had embraced gluttony and allowed herself to be transformed by it.
Anglea sat on the couch reading her latest medical charts with the same intensity someone would read a smut rag. As her eyes glanced at the newest reports of declining health, she licked her plump lips. Her blood pressure was rising and she had not taken any medication to mitigate it. Her blood sugar was perilously high, hinting at what would come. There were a hundred markers of the crash course she had put her body on, each more exciting than the last. Angela cataloged them all, growing so excited that she started to reach a hand under her gut. What good was it to simply read about her body, when she could experience it?
Angela grunted as she forced herself into a position where she might pleasure herself. Every movement was slow. Even scooting on the couch required large, unflattering movements. Angela thrust her way belly fat first, making her double rolled gut slosh madly. All her movements were cumbersome and slow. She rolled like a hippopotamus in a river wallow as she became comfortable on the couch. One huge, hammy leg leaned on the back of the sofa, letting her fat gut drain off to the side. Thus, her hand was finally allowed to work. Angela ducked her thick fingers between her naked thighs, searching for her gleaming sex. Already she was wet, the reading of her medical charts having already worked her up into a carnal froth. Angela shifted her doughy back, settling in for an afternoon of sensual work.
“Ooooh fuuuuck. . .I’m getting so. . .fat. . .” She mumbled as she stroked her pussy. Without Lucas around, Angela had to dirty talk herself. She Spilled out across the couch, most of her fat unable to rest comfortably. Her breasts, two meaty sacks of fat and milk, were as subject to gravity as her paunch was. Anything that could fall off the couch did, flopping into open air. One of her thick legs thumped on the ground, providing balance more from how heavy it was than any usage of muscle. One part of the report, a favorite for the blonde swiss, was the detailed description of just how her muscles were atrophying. Beyond being close to 400 pounds, she was far less strong and mobile than other women of comparable size. She was sedentary to the extreme, spending her days eating and fucking on couch or bed. A fantasy of Angela’s was that she might forget to walk before she became truly immobile.
“Ah. . .Ah. . .Ah. . .keep. . .going. . .you. . .cow!” Angela’s strokes slowed from their initial fury into a slow and deliberate drumbeat. Angela’s arms were too ponderous to keep in motion for long. Though she had become more intimate than ever with herself lately, Angela’s fingers seemed like strangers to her pussy. She came closer to climax by the thought of how fat and degraded her body was, rather than any artful work of her hands. The pages in her other hand fluttered. She picked out various words and phrases: “pre-diabetic”, “degraded reflexes”, “intimacy addiction”, and wove them into a tapestry of lust. “Can’t you. . .aaaaah. . .do. . .anything?” Angela squirmed and writhed in ponderous bouts of lust. Her body jiggled and clapped, fat moving in random bursts of activity. Angela gave a sow-like grunt, pushing her hand deeper under her sagging gut. Things began to go haywire as the obese woman became more intent upon reaching sexual orgasm. Lost to her pleasure, Angela would do anything to make herself climax.
Soon the medical reports went flying as she was forced to balance herself. Her hair was plastered to her puffy face, glued down by grease and sweat. That same grease and sweat flowed down and through her chins, splattering onto her puffy upper chest and then draining between her breasts. Those same trickles wound their way down her upper stomach roll. Some were flipped off and onto the couch or carpet by Angela’s erratic movements. She moaned and whined, trying to coax her beleaguered body into sexual release. The little imperfections that Anegla had begun to notice at 200 were now more more obvious than ever.
Motion, as rare as it was for the big woman, made her seem even bigger. She was losing control of her fine motor function, her muscles only obeying the most sweeping and forceful of gestures. Such was the case as she arched her back in an attempt to gain leverage. Her fingers tickled her clit, honing in finally on the most sensitive part of her. Angela bit her lip and closed her eyes. She imagined herself bigger. . .fully immobile and relying upon the same machinery that Sombra did.
Finally, Angela found release. A guttural moan turned into an aching cry as her pussy gushed. Her hands trembled and she finally fell back onto the sofa. Half of Angela hung off the slightly broken furniture. She was too weak to adjust herself anymore. Angela simply lay on the couch, feeling the thumping of her heart. It pounded in her chest, more wild than in any gunfight she had been in. She smiled as she realized the traces of pain. It was the seed of cardiac issues, one that would blossom more fully in the days to come. Today she struggled to reach orgasm because of her clumsy body, but in the future it would be different. She would balance sexual fulfillment on the fulcrum of life or death.
Comments
James Duke
Thank you so much!! You know, that extra sprinkle of intensity is really fun to write
Pineapplehairhead
Absolutely stellar work. Your health issue stories are what I find myself looking forward to the most!
