James Duke
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Persona 5: A slobby Journey Across Town
🕑 Added 2022-05-08 03:38:39 +0000 UTC(Health Issues, slob, very tiny implications of male weight gain. . .seriously, its a small amount and only mentioned in passing. Don't think I'm reversing my stance on men gaining weight.)
Aaaannnnn, were. . .whoooo. . .leaving. . .” Makoto called, wiping her forehead. Sweat dripped in thick, pungent rivulets down her forehead. It had been a hot, muggy, swampy summer so far in Japan, the kind of weather that the critically obese either shun or revel in for how disgusting it makes them. All of Japan was paying the price for it. The island nation was by far the fattest country in the world. The Land of the Rising Sun had, through largely unknown reasons, become the Land of the Sweating Blobs. People everywhere had loosened their belts and given into indulgences that would make most Americans blush. Most accepted it without question, their hearts long since having been changed. It was a strange, slobby utopia. One brought about by none other than the Phantom Thieves. In their quest to cure the world of evil through changing people's hearts they had made a discovery: the truly happy people were fat. Free from stereotypes and caring about the opinions of others, society could become a utopia. So, the Phantom Thieves had begun surreptitiously working towards that end, bit by bit making the world a happier, fatter one. One where mega-obese friends shared their afternoons with each other, hoggishly eating. “Come. . .uuurrrppp. . .oonnn, Ann!” Makoto called again, her fat body resting on the bottom most stair to the bus. The others were already on board. Finally rolling her eyes, the immense Class President waddled onboard the bus.
Travel had changed a lot since the Phantom Thieves completed their world revolution. Smaller cars had become less popular, save by those who truly loved to fill them with their sweaty, smelly, grease stained bulk. Women such as Ann, who loved and adored their fatty presence loved toy cars like that. However, most other people preferred the usage of personal buses. The blobbish forms of changed men and women would amble aboard and struggle to take their seats. These vehicles of the super slobby would quickly fill with the cumulation of sweaty mists, body odor, and expelled gasses. The bus that Makoto had rented had already been doing that. Loaded with Her, Futaba, Haru, Sumire, Chihaya, and Hifumi the bus had begun to take on an already pungent and peculiar odor. The stink of so many huge, nearly immobile slobs melding together was incredible. Makoto could hardly even describe what assaulted her nose. But she did enjoy it. It was the stink of a changed world. She waddled through the expanded seats. These lavish seats were basically small portals to gluttony that the immense women enjoyed thoroughly. Makoto ended up taking a seat next to Futaba. The seats were large, but lowdown to the ground. Easy to flop your weight into. Makoto threw herself back, allowing the pillowy seat to catch her sloppy mess. The strained buttons on her vest popping completely open. Flab covered by a soiled and stained white shirt flowed forward, almost touching the back of the seat in front of her. 700 pounds of Makoto bled over the quadsized bus seat. A large belch exploded out of her as she landed, eliciting a laugh from Futaba.
“Good one. . .BUUUURRRPPP. . .Muh-koto. . .ooo. . .UUURRRPPP.” Futaba said, before slowing down. Never the most resilient woman, the influx of fat weighed more heavily on her than it did the other women. While all of the Phantom Thieves were unhealthy, none were more critically so than Futaba. She spent lots of time at Tae’s clinic, being treated for her various fat related illnesses. However, Makoto and the others wondered if the time was also spent with some more physical coddling. Despite (or perhaps because of. . .) her drool, sweat, wheezing, and various medical instruments, the red haired cutie was fawned over by practically everyone she met. There was something about the gigantic neet that inspired both romance and maternal instincts. People wanted to baby her just as much as they wanted to feed and fuck her. Futaba didn’t mind either option. She sucked at her nasal plugs, drawing oxygen into her weighty lungs. “Ish. . .Ann. . .fooo . . .coming schooon?” She breathed, her chest rising and falling. As she waited for the response, she drew a candy bar from beneath her breast. It was partially unwrapped and had been leaking melting chocolate. No time like the present to polish it off. Her mouth and chest soon dripped with chocolate, her thick fingers further smearing it into her sweaty folds once she finished. Futaba loved to snack. While other women might desire grand feasts with endless entrees, Futaba loved to constantly snack and shove food into her face in spurts. Between video game matches she would shove candy bars and cheesy puffs into her face, adding yet more color to her mouse and keyboard. A constant, unending flow of calories fed into her.
“It’s Ann, she’ll be here but it might take a. . .” Makoto was interrupted by a burp and a familiar stink. The smell of fast food, cotton candy, and expensive perfume.
“Huuuuurrrrrppppp. . .thanks for. . .UUUURRRRPPP. . .waiting. . .girls!” Ann tried to sound excited as she waddled onboard the bus. Her massive ass smacking the doors further open than they were meant to be. Ann was in competition with Futaba for the fattest, most slobby blob of the group. The blonde, in her own good hearted way, couldn’t help but revel in the exciting debauchery that obesity brought. It was like her inner fatty, which had been lurking for years, had been finally allowed to run free. That inner fatty had run an absolute rampage on the stores of Japan. . .and Ann’s body. Drool, sugar, chocolate, sweaty all seemed to pour out of her rolls. She belched louder than most people could yell. Her clothes, while fashionable, were almost unrecognizable after even a small amount of time wearing them. Her simply sitting in a seat or couch left it permanently stained and mangled beyond repair. “Schorry. . .uuuh. . .for being late. . .needed. . .whew. . .new tank.” She clanged a thick finger against her oxygen tank, sending fresh air up and into her nose. The bus lurched as she waddled back toward the other women, a misty stink floating off of her. She took a special seat, one that allowed the occupant to lay on their belly; the true hedonist's place of honor. Ann loved to be on her belly. She’d spend hours eating from troughs and plates that were adjusted to the height of her belly. She’d suck down food, belch, and then plunge in for more. Slop would fly from her mouth, falling to either side of the trough. With her oxygen tank hooked into the special slot next to her chair, Ann was ready to roll.
The bus began its trip across town. It turned slowly, compensating for the immense weights of its occupants. The women’s blubber sloshed and jiggled as they moved. Their fat folds leaking sweat and stink. They would giggle and stop their talking every time one woman had a particularly meaty belch, clapping their approval. It was a good time. The kind that was only possible in the new world that the thieves had created. Ann and Futaba especially enjoyed the tip. Futaba felt herself slide and slosh in her almost too small seat while Ann slid forwards and backwards with each stop. It would not be long until the two of them were too fat to move or leave their beds. They had to enjoy every moment out as best they could.
--- The Journey Continues ---
“Hey Ryuji, we’re. . .uuullp . . .on our way.” Makoto said, not caring that she belched into the phone. Ryuji would hardly mind at this point. “Maybe. . .like. . .twenty minutes away.” Makoto had to heave the words out. She had eaten too many of her snacks too quickly and her stomach had ballooned outward, full of gas and food. The seatbelt cut into her stomach rather painfully. While the pressure was somewhat fun, especially as it helped to shake loose more gas, it was still tight and uncomfortable. Her pudgy digits held the phone, spread sweat and grease over the pitifully small keyboard. “Had to. . .BBUUUURRRRPPPP. . .stop for some. . .ow. . .snacks.” she sucked in her gut as best she could before trying to adjust her seatbelt. “Futaba and Ann were hungry.” Makoto finished, hearing a sympathetic belch from Ryuji’s side.
“That’s. . .BBBBLLLLAARRRRPP. . .not totally true!” Futaba cut in, further stained and covered with remnants of her most recent binge. “You and Sumire. . .fwwwooossshh. . . bought more than. . .uurrp . . . me!” Between each word was the deep suck of oxygen into her lungs. The eating had taken its toll and now Futaba had to rest. Eating was, perhaps, her greatest joy but it left her more than winded. She was so physically weak that even a small binge like the one they had just finished left her exhausted. Her breaths came in ragged gulps and she could feel her heart palpitate. With her critical health, Futaba had to be careful to not overdue anything; especially without Tae around to solve her ailments. As it was, Futaba was trying to relax and sleep off her post binge health problems. A nap was usually all it took to get her breath back and clear the worrisome but ever present chest pangs.
“Yeah. . .hhhoorrruuuupp. . .you even stole some of mine!” Ann said, trying to look over at Makoto. She was seated behind her friend, so she could only see her rumbling, jiggling ass cheeks as the bus rolled along. Makoto’s love handles bounced attractively, seductively flopping onto and off of her billowing asscheeks. Ann couldn’t help but lick her lips. Her love of fat extended to others just as much as it did herself.
“Hey now! I only. . .uuurrrp. . .took what was necessary.” Makoto said, dismissing Ann’s claims with a hand wave. All the same, she looked very embarrassed as she turned back to the phone. “I hear eating in the background. You boys had better have saved your appetites for when we get there!” She called, awkwardly trying to shift away from Ann tattling on her. The behemoth blonde started to lodge another complaint, when Makoto tossed her phone back. “Uhh, why don’t you talk to Ryuji, Ann.” She hurriedly said.
Ann flailed for the phone, her thick fingers and plump hands hardly able to do more than grab food and shovel it into her mouth. She caught the phone more with her breasts than she did with her hands. Her cleavage, hefty and sweaty, spilled forward through her low cut t-shirt. Ideally, the shirt was supposed to show a generous amount of cleavage without being whorish or lewd. Yet, because of Ann’s voluminous breasts, the shirt was rendered almost useless. Huge, milky, white breasts poured from her shirt and bunched up under her set of lubricated chins. Usually, they held crumbs or acted as a cup holder. They were equally as adept at holding phones though. When Ann spoke, she had to excitedly draw oxygen from her tank. “Hiiii Ryuji! Did you. . .fwwwooo. . guys eat everything yet?” Ann asked, squeezing her fat thighs together with anticipation. Ann loved fat and gluttony to the point that she wanted to hear about other people’s experiences.
She loved picturing men and women during their heights of gluttonous passion. She smiled as she heard Ryuji describe what the gentlemen had devoured so far. “Oh, my gosh!” She squealed like a true pig. “That sounds. . .uuurrrp. . .soo amazing!” Drool flooded her mouth as she heard Ryuji describe his food. Further, Ann could hear belches, chair squeaks, and belts snapping in the background. With an almost sexual passion, Ann longed to join them. “Make sure they make extra for me!” She smacked her left breast, hoping the sound of fat hitting fat hitting fat would translate into the phone. “I’m schoooo hungry!” Her thick, cankled legs rubbed against one another as the bus rumbled along. “Especially since Makoto stole my food.”
Ann and Futaba, who had slightly recovered, giggled when they heard Makoto try to defend herself. The flustered, straight-A student even stamped her foot, shaking the bus. Ann and Futaba only laughed more as they watched Makoto fume. This was a world that Ann and Futaba thrived in. Other women could enjoy it and draw their own pleasures, but ultimately this was a paradise for people like Ann and Futaba; a world belonging to the slovenly and the gluttonous. Soon, the bus would arrive at the restaurant and the entirety of the Phantom Thieves would be allowed to revel in their gluttony once more.
