James Duke
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August Prompt: Nagatoro's Heavy Romance
🕑 Added 2023-08-12 20:37:20 +0000 UTCTags: SSBBW, Sweat, light romance
Link to prompt submission post: https://www.patreon.com/posts/august-prompt-87010587
Nagatoro fumbled with her phone, trying to reach it through her vast folds of fat. It had been vibrating constantly as she worked to leave her house. With one hand placed upon the wall of her house for balance, she thrust her other hammy arm down into her cleavage. Nagatoro had been a thin noodle of a woman for most of her life. She had been nimble and athletic, excelling at many sports; particularly judo. Now, however, she struggled to stand still and reach through her various folds of fat in order to find a wayward cellphone. 400 pounds worth of tanned, Japanese woman wobbled back and forth in the small hallway of her family’s home. Despite being 4 '11, Nagatoro filled the hallway with her bulk. She was low and thick, built like a highway barrier formed from gelatin. Her frustration mounted as she searched for the phone, feeling her large body flush from too much activity. Nagatoro is no stranger to sweat, but it has taken on a different meaning to her now. Once a marker of how hard she had applied herself at training, it now acts as a way to show how little tolerance her boundless curves have for any extended movement. As the fruitless search continues, her small but puffy hand curls into a fist and smacks against the wall. Hanging curtains of bicep fat swing back and forth.
“Oooooh! Come on!” The exasperated woman groaned, knowing that every second spent searching is going to make her trip to school that much harder. The short trip has already gotten to the point where it is nearly insurmountable on a full tank. Too much of a delay will cause the time consuming waddle to be a nightmare of chafing thighs and wheezing. “Senpai is gonna be so mad!” Nagatoro’s heartbeat quickens as she thinks of letting her older classmate down. This was supposed to be a special, after school feeding and modeling session. A chance for Nagatoro to grow closer to her secret lover, for her new body to be loved and appreciated in a way that only an artist could see. Nagatoro never cared much for art before her relationship with Senpai. Likewise, she had never given much thought to being fat. Her opinions had changed drastically as time had gone on. What had started as a curious interest in both had become a relentless exploration. For both of them.
Reaching full tilt, Nagatoro simply bent her immense body forward and shook. In what might have been a degrading act, she made all of her fat dance. Nagatoro was dressed in athletic gear that resembled her old running outfit. In an ironic twist, the stretchy, “Fat-letic” fabric was the only thing that could truly fit her now. Even then, excessive movement showed the utter dominance of her size and secret weaknesses of her clothing. Her breasts popped out almost immediately. Full and fat, no fat had been wasted upon her breasts. After a lifetime of struggle, Nagatoro could finally say that she was busty. Tear drop shaped, pomegranate sized breasts bounced feely in the air. They swung like church bells, the wet slap of flesh upon flesh providing music for the hall. At the same time, her stomach licked against the wooden floor. A combination of small stature and prodigious gut folds allowed for her stomach to droop so impressively low. Paler than the rest of her tan body, Nagatoro’s belly seemed prodigiously fat. Though, it was nothing compared to the behemoth that was her buttcheeks. The two supple, warm, thick boulders were as inviting as they were heavy. Nagatoro’s ass had devoured the small seat of Senpai’s art stool. That was, before the stool’s untimely end.
Nagatoro felt the phone fall out of her folds just as she felt her shorts starting to roll down over her bubbling asscheeks. Her fat would lift upwards, cresting like waves at the beach. Twin peaks would form, her butt fat reaching as high into the sky as possible, before spreading back out again. There was a hypnosis to it, as mesmerizing to see as it was to feel. Nagatoro was spellbound by the jiggling of her body, though what she had been looking for was directly in front of her. The phone buzzed on the ground with text and calls from Senpai. As much as it drained her strength and made her body sweat, Nagatoro shook and wobbled her body more. She imagined hands running along her body, Senpai’s no doubt. Then she felt actual hands on her rear.
“Practicing for your ‘art’ class, Hayase?” Misaki Nagatoro, Nagatoro’s older sister, asked calmly. For a couple moments, her hands sunk into Nagatoro’s boundless blubber. She planned on slapping her sister, teasing the rotund ball of flab, but the younger woman screamed and jumped away.
“Aaaah! Hands off, pervert!” Nagatoro rolled head over heels, trying to get away from her sister. She landed in a heap, gut flopping between her gigantic thighs. Only years of martial arts training kept her from landing on her stomach like a true whale. Instead, she sat on her ass and tried to shove her breasts back into her sports bra. “You are such an awful creep! Mom and dad should disown you for things like that.”
“I think they would let me back in pretty quick.” Misaki walked over, picking up Nagatoro’s phone and dropping it between her large breasts. “They’d be down a person that could lift you up.” She smiled, decidedly catlike, and put her arms around Nagatoro’s bicep. Her hands sunk deep into the bingo-wing, almost entirely obscured by the tanned blubber. She started to lift her sister up. While her catlike expression never changed, inwardly Misaki was surprised by just how much heavier Nagatoro had gotten since the last time she needed help. She wondered what kind of food she was eating in order to fatten up by such leaps and bounds. In little under a week and a half, she had ballooned noticeably. Another 10 or maybe 15 pounds finding their way onto her, admittedly, adorably obese body. Misaki knew she could not lift her sister up under her own power. Her slim foot kicked a sandbag’s worth of ass fat. “Come on. You can pout or you can stand up, but not both.”
Nagatoro mumbled, but ultimately did as she was told. Her concern over seeing Senpai overrode her desire to make her sister struggle. Her knees creaked as she all but deadlifted the impressive bulk she had spent the past year cultivating. Her gigantic booty bounced and slid up her sister’s slim body, reminding both sisters who the “big” one was. The toll on her body was just as exhilarating as the jiggling she felt when she moved. Nagatoro knew Senpai would appreciate her heaviness. There was no part of her that went unnoticed.
“There.” Miskai said as she returned Nagatoro to a standing position. She brushed her sister’s immense body, slapping some dust and dirt from the floor off of her. Nagatoro bit her lip, wondering if she could get Senpai to do the same thing for her later. “Now, go have fun.” Misaki smiled knowingly. “Just make sure you lock the door to that art room.”
“It’s nothing like that!” Nagatoro yelled, knowing it was exactly like that. Instead of bantering with her sister, however, she ran out of the door. Senpai was calling again.
---
Nagatoro gasped as she plodded up the stairs to the art room. The walk over had drenched her in sweat and sapped all the strength from her muscles. Her pre-departure shenanigans with her sister had taken more endurance than she realized. Her legs shook as she tried to lift them to mount the final set of stairs. Sweat ran down her body, running in a grand river between her breasts as well as from salty springs hidden in her stomach folds. Her mouth hung open, chins squashed down against her thickened neck. “Scchem. . .hooo. . .scheeempaaai!” Nagatoro whined as she tried to mount the stairs. All her body seemed to rebel against her wishes. Her fat fingers slipped on the handrail, unable to grip thanks to the sweat running down her arm. Her ass had become an anchor, trying to pull her back down the stairs. A line of sweat ran between her buttcheeks, clearly outlined on her stretchy shorts. Her flab bounced, though in a way that felt decidedly unsexy. Nagatoro could appreciate her bulk when it was stationary or when Senpai was jiggling it, but not when she was forced to lug it around.
Nagatoro licked her lips, trying to wipe away what sweat she could. Her tongue traveled across plump lips and heavy cheeks. She might have tried to brush away the copious amounts of perspiration that were building on her body, even going so far as to drip onto the floor, but did not want to risk slowing her momentum. She needed her free arm to keep pumping, it’s pendulous swinging helped to keep her mass going up the stairs. Nagatoro was unable to remove any sweat or adjust her outfit. She felt her shorts getting sucked further and further into her cavernous ass, pulled into the sweaty depths between her chair crushing buttcheeks. The young woman shouldered these and a thousand other signifiers of her size, just wanting to reach the top of the stairs and find the art room. Through it all, her phone buzzed with enough strength to toss up droplets of sweat from her cleavage.
Nagatoro summiting of the stairs was met with little fanfare. She was alone in the darkened hallway, bent over double. She shuddered and breathed, trying to ignore the clenching of her sides. Her sausage fingers grasped fat swaddled knees, her thighs held at odd angles to manage her sagging belly. “Uuuuuggghhh. . .Senpaaaaaiii!” The lively student called, wondering if she was going to pass out. Her stomach rumbled, begging for food to renew her spent energy. “Heeeelllp! Give your kohai some assistance. . .you cruel. . .monster.” Nagatoro put her head down, her long and silky hair slumping over one plump shoulder. For the second time that day, Nagatoro felt a hand grab her chunky ass.
“My art project arrives. . .we may now finally resume our study of your sumptuous, nubile body!” Sana Sunomiya, art club president and Nagatoro’s senpai, explored her girlfriend’s ass with a confident hand. She squeezed and pinched, jiggled and shook with liberal sexual intent. Sana, or “Senpai” as Nagatoro had come to call her, leaned in. Artistic, possibly perverted, passion radiated from the older woman just as heat and sweat radiated from Nagatoro. Huge, heavy breasts draped themselves across the shorter woman’s back flab. “I waited for you, desperately itching to paint that expansive form. It was wrong of you to deny me your wondrous body for so long!” Sana whispered into Nagatoro’s ear, her diction impeccable and her tone bordering on insane. As many artists, Sana gripped madness and creativity with both hands. “I’ve longed to indulge in that body of yours! I will know you physically, that way I can put every crease down lovingly on canvas.” She stood Nagatoro up, the volume of her voice rising in kind. Sana would have made for an excellent general, able to marshall people to her cause with little trouble. Nagatoro had found the energy attractive and addicting, quickly sharing Sana’s ideas on what the ideal female body would look like.
“Eeeeew, don’t be such a creep! Senpai, you have wandering hands!” Nagatoro’s first instinct was always to tease those she found attractive, wanting to get under their skin just as much as she wanted to get close to them. “I’m so gonna report you.” She hid her tiredness under her teasing.
In a burst of lust, Sana pushed her short but fat lover up against a nearby wall. Nagatoro’s naked, sweaty belly pushed into Sana’s school uniform. Sana’s watermelon sized breasts filled Nagatoro’s face, almost blocking the other woman from view. However, she could still see Sana’s piercing gaze and lavender hair. Slowly, her senpai’s breasts slid down as Sana pushed her head forward. The club president did not mind that Nagatoro’s sweat was soaking into her own clothing, revealing the skimpy and lacey lingerie she wore underneath her uniform. “Would you really report someone who has brought out the best in you?” Sana’s authoritative voice was hotter than anything Nagatoro could have imagined. “Someone who pushes you every day towards the divine form that women have been neglecting.” She leaned in as close as she could, coming within inches of Nagatoro’s lips. Their breath mingled. “I think not.” Sana said, daring Nagatoro to make the next move. “Show me exactly what you want, Hayase. I would have every bit of my corpulent kohai.”
Nagatoro wasted no time in kissing her senpai. She pulled the taller woman into her folds, wanting to cover her body in the fat that she had lovingly cultivated. Likewise, she wanted to add her lips to Sana’s. Electricity seemed to spark on Nagatoro’s tongue as the pair made out. Each kiss drew more of Sana’s boundless passion into Nagatoro’s depleted body. Sana navigated her lover’s body easily, hands plunging into the most sensitive and soft rolls. As was to be expected, Sana quickly overpowered Nagatoro. There was little chance that the tanned butterball could handle the immense amount of crazed lust that issued from the club president. All the short, obese woman could do was try to kiss back and allow her sweaty creases and crevices to be explored. Sana began to gyrate, bouncing her rotund lover’s ass off of the wall. “Senpaaai. . .we could be seen.” Nagatoro whisper-whined as Sana plunged her face down towards her breasts. Nagatoro moaned as she felt kisses and an exploratory tongue between her breasts.
“And? You would deny the world the beauty of two loving women?” Sana’s response was muffled, unconcerned about being stumbled upon. Nagatoro was reminded that feeding and weight gain were not Sana’s only kinks. She was a woman who was desperate to show the world her body. This desire had only become magnified upon becoming romantically linked with Nagatoro. “The world should see us both. Our beauty should be unobstructed by pathetic stitchings.” Sana moved to undress Nagatoro, pulling her towards the classroom at a similar pace. The only thing that matched her desire for seeming feminine nakedness was her desire to paint it. Nagatoro bit down on her prudish worries, wanting to be swept away by Sana’s vision of the world. She didn’t even mind that her sports bra was left in the hallway or that she was waddled topless into the classroom. She was her senpai’s pet, a servant to her master plan for beauty. They would create wonderful art together.
