James Duke
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Makoto's Challenges: Clean
🕑 Added 2024-02-11 19:31:50 +0000 UTCHey Guys, I wanted to give you a little extra content because stories have been slow. This is the first half of story that eventually includes some health issues. However, this portion is mostly clean and just about the fats. The full story is in the $5 tier. If you want to check out the full story, here is the link: https://www.patreon.com/posts/prompt-makotos-98286044
“This is nice.” Makoto said, tapping her fork on one of the tables at Big Bang Burger. She was immersed in a world of grease, plastic silverware, and corporate colors. She was aware that Ren spent a considerable amount of time at the restaurant, she had never come along. Makoto tried not to be a snob, but also worked to avoid the bottom barrel eateries. Food was supposed to be an expression of culture, not mass produced slop. She looked around the restaurant, trying to hide her judgment of the people around her. Many were chubby or outright fat and those that weren’t had other issues. It was hardly the kind of place where the elite of Japan would meet. Yet, Ren had brought her here. She tried to swallow her apprehension and disgust, finding it to be almost as difficult a task as eating one of the burgers. She turned back to her boyfriend, focusing on the only appealing thing in the restaurant. “So. . .why here, exactly?” She asked, wanting to understand.
“Different perspective?” The bespectacled man said after weighing his options. Even in the years after Shujin Academy, he had not changed his slow and reserved manner of speaking. He was the sort to consider his options, measuring them against his conversational partner.
“You call this perspective?” Makoto tapped the top of her burger. The flimsy fork bounced off the massive bun, like a reed of grass hitting a turtle shell. The meat underneath oozed grease and cheese. Makoto poked at the wall of food with the utensil. It bent under the weight of the burger, cracking slightly. Makoto sneered, unable to keep her disgust hidden. Were this food offered at Shujin, she would have used every bit of power as student council president to lobby against it. The burger could have been cut into eighths and Makoto still would have struggled to eat one of the pieces. Her stomach turned with nervousness, worried about what such low quality food would do to her. “Couldn’t we have gone somewhere a little nicer?” She tried to be coy, wanting to avoid the disastrous meal to come. “Maybe somewhere with just the two of us?”
Ren smiled, tapping his finger on the table. He thought through his options, trying to decide what might be best for his picky girlfriend. “Challenge yourself, think of it like a test for school.” He joked, playing on her studious nature.
“What kind of awful school would have this as a test?” Makoto retorted. Ren shrugged knowingly. Makoto caught his meaning quickly. “Shujin. . .you might have a point.” She sighed, thinking about the corruption that had infiltrated the faculty. “But not all of them!” Makoto could not help but defend some of the authority figures she had known. She would have gone further, but she realized defending the behaviors of certain administrators would be harder than eating the burger. She sighed, trapped. Ren tapped her hand before picking up his own burger. Makoto shook her head, bangs swishing about her ears. “Fine. Let’s just give this a go.” She picked up the burger and bit into it. The bite was even more heavily laden with grease than she imagined. She chewed, trying to make sense of the tastes assaulting her tongue. It was forceful and brutal, totally removed from the elegant minimalism she was used to. Yet, as she swallowed and took a second bite, she could not say it was bad. By her fourth bite, Makoto was enjoying herself.
Ren smiled as he watched his girlfriend eating and enjoying herself. He was tempted to say nothing, to let the moment continue on in blissful silence. He did not, however. He felt the stirring of fate within his chest, being pulled by forces beyond his knowledge. “You know. . .” He started, thinking through how he wanted to phrase his request. “. . .challenge yourself, to be more open.” He offered, putting his palm up in a gesture of thoughtful expression.
Makoto stopped, mulling over her boyfriend’s words. The burger felt just as cozy in her stomach as it had her hand. Settling just as cozy was the knowledge that she had stepped a toe over her boundaries. . .and enjoyed it.
--- Thinking About More ---
“I think I. . .still have room for more.” Makoto said, pushing her hands into her stomach as if to gauge her fullness physically. The lovers walked down the crowded streets of Shibuya. Rather than answer verbally, Ren laced his fingers through Makoto’s. They had just gotten done with a quick pit stop over at a new burger joint that had opened. Ren had eaten little, instead savoring something else. Makoto had ordered well, citing cravings that had been with her all day. She excused it as having worked hard and “hardly” eaten the day before. The short haired woman conveniently left out her quick stop in to Big Bang burger for lunch. Even more than Ren, Makoto had worked the restaurant into her regular rotation. Sensible sushi shops and bistros had been removed to make way for the cheap but effective fast food. Further, it now provided her with a basis of comparison of other American style restaurants, a type of cuisine that the two were becoming increasingly familiar with. This newest eatery had been but the newest stop in a growing list of places. Makoto’s organizational mind had them all categorized by price, quality, and portion size. She was even more adept at comparing them. The new restaurant was settling into the rankings, with its greasy food seeping into Makoto’s mind just as it seeped into her stomach.
“Hmmm. . .It just wasn’t as. . .mhm. . .excuse me.” Makoto’s formal and polite speech was shortened with her bringing a clasped hand to her mouth. She took both her and Ren’s hands up to her stained lips in order to stifle the belch. She swallowed the gas back down, ready to return to her thoughts. The lovebirds’ clasped hands fell once more between their hips, though the motion sent a jiggle through Makoto. Her figure had not fared well under the new menu and culinary choices. “Sorry. I thought that the meat was tender enough.” She spoke, working her tongue through her mouth to remember the taste of the meal. Her chubby cheeks were made even puffier by the presence of her tongue. “I just want. . .bbbluurrup. . .something more. . .” She apologized for halting her sentence but did not acknowledge the first small burp to slip out. This time it was Ren’s hand that touched her face. The young man felt warm lips coated with grease from the meal. Makoto’s simple white sweatshirt had similar drippings. She was so concerned about her food that she had failed to pay attention to the droplets spilling onto her chest. “Anyway, maybe just one more stop?” Makoto asked, sufficiently expunging the belches from her gut.
“You sure?” Ren’s question was as simple as it was cheeky. He was well aware that Makoto could handle more. It was not just her tastes that were being tested and expanded. The chubby woman had stretched her stomach on more than one occasion. Unsatisfactory meals had to be chased with something more palatable. “Eyes aren’t bigger than your stomach?”
“Your concern is touching.” Makoto leaned against her smaller boyfriend, putting her chubby frame atop his thin, athletic one. “But I think I could handle more.” She patted her gut. “Just a little challenge.”
--- A Tortured Waddle ---
Sae Nijima was in the bath when she heard her sister enter the apartment. Though the bath was set far back in the apartment, nestled in Sae’s spacious room, she could hear Makoto nearly as well as if she was on the other side of the door. Sae needed little help in deducing the past day of her sister’s activities. Wheezing and jagged breaths indicated that the elevator was still out and Makoto had struggled her bulk up the stairs. The rustle of paper bags pointed to visiting her favorite burger haunts. Sae shifted in the bath, one of her long and shapely legs crossing over the other. She kicked her small foot, her serenity disturbed by Makoto’s noises. “BBBLOOORRRUUUP.” A belch announced Makoto moving deeper into the apartment, as well as letting Sae know that her sister’s meals had been large. This had not been a day of moderate indulgence. Rather, Makoto had been gorging to the point of deep and painful fullness. The last piece of evidence was the rattling of the door, which matched in time to Makoto’s tromping steps. Her sister had certainly not lost any weight. Sae pinched the bridge of her nose, frustrated and unsure how to handle the coming conversation.
“Hey, Sis. . .BBBLOOOORRRUUP. . .sorry. . .I’m. . .home.” Makoto said the words with sloppy thickness. The waddle up the stairs must have been painful, given how slowly Makoto spoke. She needed to catch her breath after every word. “How wasscch. . .uuuggh. . .your. . .day?” The younger Niijima woman asked the question with the last bit of her strength. Sae rolled her eyes as the door to the bathroom shook and bent, a heavy burden placed upon it. Makoto needed to lean her fat against something, to have some of her burdensome obesity alleviated. Sae frowned, knowing she would have to clear grease stains off of the door. There was no further communication. Makoto would pant and wheeze until responded too, needing time to be strong enough for another tortured sentence. Sae, on the other hand, let the silence build to calm her emotions.
“Welcome back, Makoto.” Sae said, wondering if she had been too icy. Conversations with her sister had now become a play between loving frustration and equally loving concern. It was hard for Sae to see what her sister was putting her body through. Though separated by the door, Sae had little trouble imagining what Makoto looked like. She was standing with her arm across the door, forehead leaning up against it’s pillowy mass. Her second chin was wobbling in the free air. Her tight leather pants had been swapped for painfully tight leggings. Even though they were sized for women bigger than what Japan produced, Makoto had already handily outgrown them. Her gut would be sloshing well over the waistband, a tidal wave of fat to break upon the slim door. Large, full, teardrop shaped breasts would be ruining the neckline of an equally undersized tank top. The tanktop should be white, but it had been reduced to being a canvas for the various spills and stains from her meals. Meanwhile, Sae might as well have been a naiad for how beautiful she looked in the tub. Once, the contrast between the two women had been down to simple differences. Sae’s beauty was mature and sultry despite severe professionalism, whilst Makoto’s was cute and youthful. Now thanks to Makoto’s recent changes, there was little in the way of comparison. It was hard for people to even see the familial resemblance.
“My day was fine, how was yours?” Sae tried to soften her voice as she responded fully. She then chose to exit the bathtub, sloshing water to cover the sounds of Makoto summoning enough air to respond. Sae was the picture of health and beauty. She moved almost catlike to grab a towel and begin drying herself. Her body glistened in the lights of the bathroom. Sae thought, with some pain, that Makoto’s probably glistened as much or more. Sweat would be rolling down her face, between her large breasts, and out from her deep navel. Every roll would be thoroughly doused in sweat, which would seep its way into her clothes or drop onto the floor. The seat that was left behind would be left to curdle within the depths of Makoto’s rolls. Sae had noticed that Makoto had the telltale pungency that came from a person too fat to wash themselves. It was these things and more that ran through Sae’s mind as she struggled to talk with her sister. Trite talks about the day’s activities seemed stupid and mindless when compared to what should be discussed: Makoto’s obesity. As Sae wrapped a towel around her naked body, she resolved to bring it up. Makoto could not be allowed to further destroy her body.
“It. . .huuugghh. . .wascch good.” Makoto interrupted herself with a loud wheeze, pitifully trying to draw air into her beleaguered lungs. Sae walked across the bathroom, further inundated with the sounds of Makoto’s failing body. Her fat shifted and slapped, splattering further grease on the door. The room seemed to seethe with the big woman’s tortured breaths. In all the unobstructed minutes, Makoto’s breathing had gotten no better; giving further indication to her health. Sae pulled another towel from a rack and wrapped it around her head. She wondered if it would maybe be better to have the forthcoming conversation with more clothes on, but decided against it. Makoto should see what her body should look like and understand how far she had departed from a healthy lifestyle. “Ren. . .BBBLOORRRUUP. . .took me. . .to a new. . .plaasscchee.” Makoto slurred her words, teetering on the brink of a food coma. Sae was more dedicated than ever to her path. She opened the door quickly. Makoto nearly fell in, but managed to straighten up. Sae looked at her troubled sister, already feeling her heart soften.
Makoto was the height of pity. She wobbled backwards, her body sloshing wildly as she fought with gravity in order to remain upright. Her arms spun in little circles, curtains of bicep fat swinging in the air. She stumbled drunkenly, trusting that the wall behind her would stop her fall. Sae reached for her sister, trying to keep her towel on at the same time. What she ended up grasping was pure fat, love handles thicker than her arms. Sae was dragged backward with Makoto, barely able to slow the bigger woman’s fall. Makoto tossed away dignity in order to save herself, waddling backwards as fast as she could. Meanwhile, with every pop from Makoto’s knees, Sae’s resolve dropped. It was one thing to muster courage away from the true sight of her sister, but that resolve faded when matched up against reality. Makoto thumped against the wall in a spray of sweat, face red from the surprise exertion. The two women stood quietly, or at least as quietly as Makoto could. Sae’s fluffy towel was quickly weighed down and ruined by Makoto’s advancing sweat. The older sister slowly dropped the heavy rolls she had been gripping. In an effort to spare Makoto’s feelings, Sae made a suggestion. “How about we talk on the couch?”
“Ye-yeah. . .that seems. . .good.” Makoto nodded. She put out a heavy arm, needing help to be moved. Sae said nothing as she wedged her slimness under Makoto’s heaving mass of blubber. Makoto felt a slight lift, the pain and weariness of her body eased somewhat as Sae lifted her from the wall. Blubber and sweat was shared between the two, with Makoto’s blubber wanting to colonize everything it came in contact with. The waddle towards the couch was slow. Sae was treated to every minute detail of her sister’s condition. The smaller woman was battered by the thrusting hips of her wide sister. Every step Makoto’s enormous butt would swing and slap into Sae, trying to pull the towel down. Makoto was fat enough that her knees knocked together and her legs moved in awkward patterns. The waddle to the couch was often halted by Makoto needing to catch a breath or Sae having to pull her towel back into place. When finally they reached the couch, it took several minutes to drop Makoto into place. It was, if nothing else, a challenge. One that Makoto secretly enjoyed.
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