James Duke
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Rangiku and Tatsuki's Summer of Fun
🕑 Added 2024-01-27 20:49:08 +0000 UTCBonus 2k explicit version is available in the $5 tier!
Tags: Vanilla fats, extreme weight gain, lesbian shenanigans.
--- Delivery Boy ---
“Aaah man, what a lame way to spend a summer.” Ichigo Kurosaki complained as he walked down the street. The lean, orange haired man frowned as he shouldered the insulated delivery bag he was carrying. It was summer in Karakura town which meant that the young man had to find something to occupy his time. With little threats posed to either the spirit or human worlds, that meant he had to occupy his days with more normal concerns. In this case, a job. For the first time in many summers, Ichigo had been forced to get a job. Worse still, he could only be accepted as a food delivery boy. His days were spent climbing the hills of Karakura town, delivering food to the laziest of the residents. Currently, he was approaching a noticeably neglected house. By all accounts, it had sat unattended for months if not years. “Great. I get stuck going to whatever crap hole this is. Couldn’t get any worse.” Ichigo fumed as he wandered up the overgrown yard and up to the front door. He knocked twice, hoping to stifle his temper long enough to get a good tip. “Hello! Got your food.” Ichigo called, hearing the owner slowly coming to the door.
“Oh my! It sounds like they sent a handsome man my way this time!” A voice that was mature in age but immature in content spoke as the door was pulled open. Instantly, Ichigo recognized the voice and tried to run. However, he was soon caught up in a constricting hug. His arms were pinned at his sides as two huge breasts radiated warmth across his broad chest. “I was so right!” The woman said, swirling strawberry blonde hair blowing in the wind. “I might not even need the food since I have this other snack!” The breasts buffeting Ichigo’s upper body seemed to grow even larger and bouncier as the woman squeezed. Of all the people to have been caught by, the young soul reaper had been hooked by the voluptuous Rangiku Matsumoto. The bimbo lieutenant of the 10th Division smiled like a fox as she held Ichigo's muscular body. It was rare that she ever let a man go once in her clutches.
“Hey! Let go, you old hag!” All thoughts of manners and tips were forgotten as Ichigo realized just who he was held by. Rarely did his life get better when vacationing soul reapers were involved.
“Hag?!” Rangiku knocked her forehead against Ichigo's forehead as punishment for the comment. “How could you ever say something so rude!” Out for the count, Ichigo slumped in her arms. Rangiku swung him back and forth, debating whether to send him flying or maintain her grip. “You can forget about a tip, that’s for sure.” She huffed, her pride insulted. “Didn’t your parents teach you how to talk to a woman?”
“Didn’t yours ever tell you not to abuse service people?” Ichigo barked back, recovering quickly from the wound. His forehead throbbed with the forming bruise, magnifying his already legendary temper. “You think you can just go around hitting people when you want because they upset you?” He squirmed, trying to make another break for freedom. Slowly, Ichigo tried to weasel his way out of the cougar’s grip.
Seeing her prey escaping, said mankiller decided on a different approach. “Ooooh, I probably did hit you a little hard!” Rangiku cooed, softening from the insult in a second. She had lured in plenty of men in her long life. When her natural curves and strongarm tactics failed, she adapted. “How about I take you in and make it all better?” She put on her best puppy dog eyes and freed one of her arms, balancing Ichigo like he was a child on her hip. Rangiku licked her thumb and brought it towards the bruise. “We can enjoy my little meal together!” She beamed, her thumb inches away from his forehead. Pride filled the buxom chest bobbing against Ichigo's body, with its owner gloating internally Rangiku knew that few men could ever resist her touch. However, when she went to press down, she found only empty air. Ichigo had seized his moment, dashing away from the woman like she was a hollow.
“Raincheck on that!” Ichigo said, already down the street. “Keep the bag and no worries about a tip. Hope you had a wonderful delivery experience!” He yelled, quickly fading from view. Rangiku watched him leave, frustrated to let any attractive man escape her grasp. However, as she bent down and grabbed the discarded delivery box, a plan was already forming.
--- Slower Predator ---
Weeks later saw Ichigo returning to the Rangiku’s house. He hadn’t wanted to go, but circumstances had forced him all the same. He switched delivery zones over and over again, but each of the people he had swapped with had either quit or demanded to switch back. Now, lacking any other options, Ichigo was forced to confront Rangiku again. He held the satchel with both hands, putting it out in front of him like a shield. He cursed the bad luck he had in finding other jobs or more reliable coworkers to cover for him. Each step brought him closer to the house. He knew Rangiku was waiting inside, prowling like a hungry lioness. His fingers tightened around the delivery satchel. It was heavier than normal, clearly an attempt to weigh him down. As unlikely as it seemed, ten extra pounds might be enough to ruin an escape. Ichigo reminded himself to be extra wary as he approached the door. His legs tensed, ready to shunpo to safety. He did not even get a chance to knock.
“My faaavvorite delivery man returns!” Rangiku exploded out of the door, practically kicking it down in order to reach her prey. Her breasts leaped up, as eager to greet Ichigo as Rangiku was. The massive orbs moved in opposition to the laws of gravity, full and bulging in spite of the laws of gravity. The bowling ball sized knockers jiggled out from between her skimpy, bedroom kimono in their pell mell spring. Unfortunately, neither Rangiku’s arms nor her breasts were able to catch Ichigo. Instead, the older woman grasped only empty air and her own cleavage. She looked up to see Ichigo already running away, waving a gloating arm. Rangiku was almost too confused to pout. “Huh? There’s no way he could have been quicker than me.” Little crocodile tears ran from her eyes. “I trained for years in the academy to perfect my technique.” Her tears stopped a little as she bent down to pick up the delivery box. She hardly noticed the jiggle that her stomach made.
Rangiku’s next attempt at catching her new boy toy was marked with even greater failure. She remained perched behind the door, crouching so low that her gut had to push between her breasts for space. Rangiku wore an undersized zip-up sweatshirt and gray shorts. She had only started to become dimly aware of her weight gain, even though she was pushing past the 200s. A stunning combination of single mindedness and lack of common sense blinded her from the fat which now clung to her curves. To her there was little choice but to order as much fast food per day and per week in order to maximize her chances at seeing Ichigo. She clung to the vain hope that she could ensnare and convince him, using intimately physical. Rangiku wanted a vacation boyfriend. Her time in the human world was limited, so she had little time to choose a different strategy. She would capture her vacation boyfriend through raw determination. In reality, all it saw was her waistline expand further. She ordered from the delivery service daily, each time rolling the dice against her womanly figure.
--- Ducking Responsibilities ---
“Heeey, Tatsuki.” Ichigo said, jogging up to his friend. Tatsuki Arisawa had been out for a run on the far end of town when Ichigo approached her. It was a chance meeting if ever there was one. Tatsuki had been using the summer to enhance her conditioning and steel her body for the coming year of martial arts. She spent her days counting calories, running around the town, and strengthening her body. Tatsuki was in the best shape of her life. Her natural skinniness had been bolstered by the additional pounds of pure muscle. Though not buxom or voluptuous like Orihime or Rangiku, Tatsuki still possessed a sharp and agile attractiveness. Her figure was functional as well as beautiful. Tatsuki could boast about having the longest, strongest legs of any woman in Karakura town. Ichigo was forced to confirm this as one of said legs caught in on the forehead. He spun as he fell, forehead steaming from the blow.
“You don’t talk to anyone for months and try to weasel back in? What is wrong with you?” The martial artist clenched her fist, funneling her anger through her muscles. There were few people in the world that could beat sense into Ichigo like Tatsuki.
“What the hell?” Ichigo yelled the question, rolling around on the ground. His back arched as pain lanced through him. His forehead had just begun to heal from Rangiku’s headbutt. “Can’t a guy have a summer job? Is earning a little extra money a sin now?”
“No, but not talking to your friends is!” Tatsuki planted her foot down, catching the fiery tempered man in the gut. “Jerk.” She spat to the side and started to walk away. She was stopped by Ichigo groaning and standing up. If nothing else, she could admire his resolve.
“Look, Tatsuki, it’s been a rough summer. I’ve got this problem that won’t go away.” He jerked a thumb towards Rangiku’s decrepit summer home. “There’s this old lady in there and she keeps stalking me. Calls orders in all day and night. I can’t get away and no one will trade me routes.” Ichigo sighed, deflating a little. Even though his tone remained naturally steely, there was tiredness behind it. “Look, I’m embarrassed to even ask. . .but could you help me out? Take this up there for me?” Ichigo held out the delivery box. Rangiku’s orders had done nothing but grow in size. She now had to have her orders packed in boxes reserved for full parties.
Something told Tatsuki to say no. Ichigo’s problems were almost never normal. “Fine. . .but you owe me.” She sighed and held out her toned arms for the box. Tatsuki could never say no to the orange haired people in her life, her thoughts drifting back to a certain airhead waiting for her at home. “I’m not going to get murdered, am I?” She asked, starting to walk towards the house.
“Nah, since it’s not me she should just leave you alone.” Ichigo started to walk the other way, wanting to split before Rangiku could catch sight of the deal. “Catch you later. Keep any tips you get as a reward!” Ichigo gave a quick but meaningful salute before running down the road. He was utterly ignorant to Tatsuki approaching the door. He was even more ignorant of a chubby arm reaching out and pulling Tatsuki in. The door slammed shut, the orange haired teen none the wiser.
---
“Just who are you?” Rangiku slurred her words, a bottle of sake sloshing in the clutches of a chubby hand. She planted a hand just above Tatsuki’s shoulder, leaning in. Thick tracts of fat and an oppressive wave of spiritual pressure held the skinny woman in place. Tatuski held confused eye contact with her assailant. With her eye contact stolen, Tatsuki appraised the other woman with touch. The trim martial artist felt the shape and weighty bulk of Rangiku’s extreme curves. Breasts double the size of a human head overwhelmed Tatsuki’s chest. Likewise, a veritable boulder belly forced her up against the wall. Rangiku was large and heavy, though she carried it all in the most feminine way possible. Tatsuki struggled to estimate the weight which pressed upon her, but it could not have been less than 300. The jiggle around Rangiku’s face helped to confirm her size. While beautiful and remarkably angular for its owner’s weight, her face was still starting to show the traditional roundess that came with excess body fat. “Is Ichigo so desperate to avoid an old friend he has to sneak away and send some floozie in his place?”
“How do you know Ichigo?”
Too drunk to maintain a charade of a false life, Rangiku let the words spill out. “Well, we are both soul reapers.” She huffed, her large breasts coming so close to touching Tatsuki’s chin that the thin woman could feel their heat. Meanwhile, Rangiku’s stomach spread outwards, a gelatinous prison. She wore what might have been a trendy outfit, a yellow short sleeve t-shirt and tight jeans, save that her fat ruined any chance of the outfit fitting properly. The zipper was left open for her gut to plow outward. The flabby orb was forced into a strange v-shape as it poured through the gap in the denim wall. Her shirt was warped and ripped. What might have been a cute and subtle neckline was a gratuitous display of cleavage. While that might have fit with Rangiku’s outfits in the past, the love handles bulging out of ripped seams on either side of the shirt did not. “Though, I guess I see how much the Soul Society matters to him. Some friend.” The fat woman sighed, her bluster deflating but her fat seeming to wax further.
Tatsuki blinked, suddenly finding a strange kinship with this woman. “Believe me, he’s not that great to his human friends either.” Chancing her luck, she put out a hand and grasped the other woman’s flabby bicep. “We haven’t seen him in months. Ducks us at every chance.”
“How typical.” Rangiku shook her head. Her breasts bobbed along in bubbly solidarity. “I probably shouldn’t have attacked you. He just gets me so worked up.” Rangiku turned away. As the big woman moved, her gut dragged its way across Tatsuki’s skinny body with her butt following seconds after. Rangiku waddled over to where her most recent delivery of food lay. Though it had been dented from where it had landed, Tatsuki had dropped it in shock when pulled inside, it seemed like most of the food inside was unharmed. Huffing and puffing, Rangiku spread her legs and started to squat down to pick up the box. Tatsuki politely looked away as a wealth of ass fat burst from over top of Rangiku’s jeans. Though she faced a different direction, she could not block out the sounds of physical struggle and slapping of fat. When she turned around, Rangiku was standing back up with the box. She clutched it protectively against her fat, clearly having become more enamored with food than was healthy. “Anyway, you can go. . .unless you want to join me in a venting session?” Rangiku offered. For the second time that day, Tatsuki made a choice she should have avoided.
--- New Friendships ---
“Rangiku! Got another delivery for us!” Tatsuki opened the door, placing the large delivery box against her middle. The heft of the goodie box stifled the jiggling of her gut. A summer of constant work had been undone over the course of a few weeks. Against her better judgment, Tatsuki had stayed and chatted. It had been a conversation filled with curses and stories shared about Ichigo. The two women poured their frustrations out over their mutual acquaintance, whilst also indulging their appetites. It was rare for Tatsuki to enjoy talking to another woman that much. While Orihime was her best friend, she wasn’t exactly the world's foremost conversationalist. She also did not understand the finer points of venting, especially about Ichigo. Rangiku, however, was more than able to let Tatsuki complain to her heart’s content. As a result, Tatsuki had gained both weight and a new friend. Both her weight and friendship with Rangiku promised to increase several fold, if the daily meals were anything to go by.
“Aaaah, there my lovely assistant is!” Rangiku waddled in from the kitchen. Her gait had been severely impacted by her continued weight gain, but she easily passed it off as a womanly sway. She looked like a parody of a black and white film actress. This was only furthered by her penchant for wearing barely laced kimonos. The silky fabric hung open, revealing a sagging stomach and her iconic breasts. Her fat did not jiggle so much as it seemed to chug from side to side. It would be thrown heavily to one side with the corresponding step, but would land in a chorus of smaller jiggles. “Service with a smile, so much better than Ichigo!” Rangiku spread her arms wide, further exposing her nakedness. Only the thinnest margin kept her pink nipples from slipping out of her kimono. She waddled forward, the back of her kimono sucked into her bulging asscheeks. Further below, her calves wobbled just above her ankles. When she reached Tatsuki, the big woman had a hard time remembering if she was going in for a hug or to take the box. Instead the two women met in the middle. With the box of food crammed in between a small and large gut, it looked like a picture of one woman transferring her weight to the other.
“Rangiku, maybe you should cover up?” Tatsuki avoided looking at the layers of flab on display. Two huge, milky breasts rested on top of the delivery. They shook like water balloons filled with thickened cream. “I can take this into the kitchen and get it set up.” Tatsuki pulled away a bit, but found the box did not move with her. Rather, Rangiku held it close in her chubby hands. Tatsuki blushed as she stared out of the corner of her eyes. She caught glimpses of pale fat, belonging to a woman nearly twice her size. A woman who had surely passed 400 pounds worth of nubile, supple, plush fat.
“Now don’t go pretending to be modest!” Rangiku slipped into a naturally flirty tone as easily as anyone else would slip into a pair of socks. “I know for a fact you do sports. It’s not like you haven’t seen a woman’s body before.” Rangiku, enjoying the little bit of power she had gained over her new friend, shimmied her shoulders. Her kimono dropped, effortlessly shrugging over shoulders now padded with fat. Her neck had thickened, but was still shapely. The lion’s share of her upper body fat had gone to her breasts, which pushed her doughy arms out to noticeably strange angles. The shinigami bimbo grinned at her newest friend, seeing shades of both Ichigo and Hitsugaya within her. Though, it was far more in her attitude than her body. Tatsuki had done a fair amount of growing lately.
Her tomboyish hair, now resting in loose curls rather than the points she had growing up, did little to hide her blush. Her newly added chub rested in her stomach and hips mostly, starting to add precious curves to an otherwise athletic body. While Tatsuki did not possess the curves and generous extremes that Rangiku did, there was a promise of delicious expansion yet to be had. Rangiku could not help but be attracted to the idea of a woman slowly flowering into a more curvaceous version of herself. She had tried to work with the other ladies of the Soul Society, but found them decidedly uncoachable. Tatsuki, however, had promise. It would take only a little nudging in the right direction, just a bit to get her over the hump of fearing her body and the shame of being around other women. Rangiku felt more than up to the task.
“It’s hardly the same.” Steam might have poured out of Tatsuki’s ears for how hard she was blushing. “That was a less. . .”
“. . .intimate setting?” Rangiku smiled, knowing that she had sunk her teeth into the heart of things. Tatsuki stammered, trying to remain in control of her faculties and overcome her awkwardness. Rangiku’s heart fluttered as she watched her chubby eating friend rise to the occasion. She did not run away from Rangiku’s overflowing sexuality, as had so many “strong” men. Rather, Tatsuki seemed to be trying to process it and find the appropriate response. Rangiku let the other woman struggle, pulling the box of food over towards herself. To get a better hold, she put her fingers forward. For just a moment, they brushed Tatsuki’s. The smaller woman jumped, but did not flee. Rangiku decided that was enough training for the day. She started to waddle away, giving her hips an extra shake. “Ok, ok! Don’t get too worried. I’ll cover up. . .at least while you are here.”
---
The strange games of cat and mouse continued after that. Rangiku made good on her promise to stay clothed, as well as any fattening woman can. Instead, she found other excuses to impress her sexuality on Tatsuki. According to Rangiku, this was done to help get Tatsuki more comfortable in her own rapidly curving body. Yet, there seemed to be other motives underlying the lewd behavior. Rangiku herself couldn’t quite explain why bumping one of her hips into Tatsuki was so thrilling. Nor did she understand why moments of accidental close contact sent thrills up and down her sensitive fat. These moments, plus the fun she and Tatsuki had whilst eating together, kept the pair growing. Every meal seemed to include buttons popping, clothing ripping, or some other signifier that their bodies were reaching new heights of roundness. Rangiku blazed a trail of fatness and continued to find new extremes whilst Tatsuki swam quickly in her wake. The two ate and the two grew in tandem, both physically and emotionally. It seemed each meal they were closer to a long awaited revelation, each woman circling around an admission but not having the strength to say it. That is, until they shared a meal upon the couch. It began with Tatsuki commenting on the sheer volume of the food.
“This has got to be too much.” Tatsuki said, leaning back and putting her hands in a pair of jogger sweats. Her stomach rose up and flopped over her waistband. It was shaped like a round jello and nearly as bouncy. Perhaps because she was still new to the true stages of fatness, just now breaching 280 pounds, Tatsuki’s fat had stayed marvelously firm. There was little sag to any part of her. The bits of muscle she had managed to retain worked well to keep their softer neighbors in check. However, nothing could stop her fat from committing crimes upon her wardrobe. The jogger pants were embarrassingly tight, the lines of her panties clearly pressed into the gray fabric. The sky blue shirt she wore was meeting its match as well, out gunned handily by two heavy breasts. Tatsuki’s breasts were no longer the tight but sizable C cups they had been. Rather, she looked like she could wear some of Orihime’s old bras. The out of practice martial artist had feasted well and reaped the bodily rewards. “Even for us, I don’t think we can finish all of these.”
“Oh, don’t be such a spoil sport!” Rangiku said as she wandered into the living room with a glass of wine in her hand and a box of pizza in the other. Rangiku’s normal sashay had degenerated into a ponderous waddle. The careful and precise roll of hips that had defined Rangiku’s movements had become a wild swing. She threw her bulk in any given direction so long as she stayed mobile. Her stomach entered long before the rest of her did, sagging out and over her expansive hips. The boundless piles of pale fat were naked save for a thin robe. Rangiku had to angle her body in order to properly fit through the entrance to the living room, her flabby folds all racing to meet any obstacles presented to her. Her fat clung to door frames like she had once clung to men. “You want to have a good time, don’t you?” Rangiku pouted a little before guzzling down her wine glass. The sophisticated vintage was treated like cheap beer; its purpose only to lubricate Rangiku’s effusive personality. Stumbling a bit as she finished the drink, Rangiku arrived at the couch. Rather than sit immediately, she took bites from the pizza using only her mouth.
“I think we could have a good time without bursting our stomachs.” Tatsuki’s hands went to the waistband of her joggers. She tugged on them, trying to get over the hump of her gut. Her belly sloshed up and down, moving slowly under the stimulation. She grit her teeth, mentally trying to ignore what had happened to her figure. It was hard to see her as a woman that competed in anything other than eating contests. The cuffs of her leggings stretched around her fat calves having long lost their elasticity. Her large and dimpled butt was starting to change the way she sat. Even on the well padded couch, Tatsuki could feel herself getting pushed off by her own rear end. Her butt poked out of her pants, making its presence highly visible. Her stomach was the only part more visible, having poked out from under her shirt as the carbs in her stomach began to cause bloating. “What do you say to just taking it easy tonight?” Tatsuki adjusted her seat on the couch, letting her voluminous ass work as a second cushion.
“Oh come now!” Rangiku brushed the suggestion aside with little more than a shake of her bright hair. In a rush of uncontrolled momentum and jiggling she threw her bulk onto the couch. The furniture piece buckled under her weight Tatsuki winced as she felt the couch starting to give. Heralded by pops and crunches, inches were stolen away from the couche’s height. Yet, the rotund soul reaper managed to rest easily. Rangiku’s flab stretched over the couch’s width, reaching to give friendly shakes to Tatsuki’s own more reserved folds. Rangiku’s breasts were so large that they fanned out under her doughy arms, propping them up to make her look even rounder. The soft, squeezable zeppelins shook as their master wedged her bulk low into the collapsing sofa. Rangiku took another long swig of wine, finishing the drink she had just poured. Her face was obscured by her long hair as she tucked the glass away. Tatsuki could tell that the drink was hitting Rangiku hard. Her motions became exaggerated, magnifying her already sloppy and lumbering movements. When the bigger woman turned around her face was flushed. “Food iiiiissssscch fun!” Rangiku slurred through a face full of pizza, hefting the pizza box towards her friend.
“Rangiku, I think maybe you-” Tatsuki was cut off as the edge of the box was pushed into her face. Her chubby cheek was smooshed and bunched up as the cardboard tapped her soft cheeks. One part of Tatsuki’s face grew even rounder as the pizza box wedged its warm cardboard surface under her cheek.
“Coooome on now, Tatty-Watty!” Rangiku giggled, playfully working her bulk against the pizza box. She and the pizza oozed towards Tatsuki, hellbent on providing her with as much sustenance and entertainment for the night. “You know you want a piece!” Rangiku plied every bit of her beer battered charisma onto the other woman. Gravity continued to pull her down. Rangiku had just enough athleticism to twist with her slow fall, ending up on her back in Tatsuki’s lap. The pizza box rested snuggly on her breasts, warmed by their heat. “If you don’t. .mmmgghp. . .I’m gonna have. . .them. . .all!” Rangiku beamed as she ate, slipping two pieces out and into her mouth in short order. She chewed with a knowing smile. Rangiku could sense the mounting chemistry.
Tatsuki, meanwhile, looked down in surprise. Prior to this current predicament, she could not have imagined that having a 600 pound woman in her lap would feel good. Yet, as she looked down on Rangiku, Tatsuki felt a jolt of electricity in her heart. The orange haired woman’s face bulged with the pizza in it, with just a little bit of sauce dribbling down her face. The fat woman swallowed, then licked the sauce away with a wink. Tatsuki’s head jerked towards the box of pizza, needing to break her gaze towards the nearly naked woman in her lap. Rather than sinking between Rangiku’s ship swallowing breasts, they instead sank into the gooey cheese and fluffy crust of the italian dish. “Fine. If it’ll get you off my back.” Tatsuki reached for the box, hands feeling the steam of the pizza. She reached in and grabbed one of the scraps that Rangiku had left. Quietly, she slipped it into her mouth.
“I’m noooot on your back though, am I?” Rangiku said playfully, shimmying her belly. Waves of plush, expansive fat crashed upon Tatuski’s stuffed stomach. Audible slaps filled the apartment as Rangiku rolled back and forth. Her breasts fell further apart, showing the hill of fat which had formed just underneath them. Her gut had remained remarkably puffy, not at all given to the sag that many fat women experienced. Rangiku was pert and perky all over her body, incredibly without any blemishes. Her calves might have been bigger than softballs and her thighs the size of fallen logs, but not a bit of cellulite touched them. The couch was blessed and cursed to hold her mass. It was a pedestal for a goddess, though its life would be short. Tatsuki could feel the couch starting to collapse under their bulk. Rangiku, conveniently, remained playfully ignorant. She had more important matters to attend to, like making sure Tatsuki ate her fair share of pizza. One drunken, slippery hand worked into the box and then brought it towards Tatsuki’s mouth.
“I’m. . .hey. . .sschtill. . .mmgghph. . .nehver. . .mmmgghp. . .mind.” Tatsuki tried to avoid the pizza, but soon gave up. She would rather eat it than have it smeared over her face. Her cheeks bulged as they were stuffed with food. She chewed and swallowed as quickly as she could, letting her stomach continually bloat with more carbs. After another slice was eaten, Tatsuki could feel her stomach truly beginning to stretch. It pushed outward as a singular orb of fat, filled to the brim with calories that would become supple fat. “Maybe. . .uurrruup. . .we call it there.” Tatsuki suggested. Her pleas were only met with more offerings of food. Her drunk friend could think of nothing besides making sure that the karate black belt got the lion’s share of the food. Surrendering much like when Orihime had food to offer her, Tatsuki took what was offered to her. Between bites, Tatsuki stole glances at the woman in her lap. Few people had ever gotten that close to her, especially as an adult. Even Ichigo, whom she had dated, had never gotten so physical. She hated to admit it, but it felt nice. Tatsuki settled into the couch, letting her own bulk ruin the cushions as much as Rangiku’s. Another slice came to her just as she got comfortable. She did not fight it this time.
“Goooood!” Rangiku’s voice was dreamy and distant, driven far away by the wine she had guzzled down. The mixture of alcohol and carbs were bloating her and slowing her mind as well. “You just. . .uurrruup. . .let meee take care of you!” Rangiku’s chubby palm searched through the box, looking for more food. Unfortunately, she found none. “Ooooh poo, what now?” She tossed the box away, using the momentum to inch her way up Tatsuki’s lap. Instead of her shoulders, Rangiku’s lower back and the beginning of her soft butt now rested on the pair of chubby thighs. “These things always run out at the worst times.” She began to stroke Tatsuki’s cheeks. “And just when we were starting to have some real fun.”
Tatsuki blushed, but did not turn away from the hands pawing her. Her heart beat faster. Despite not having anything to drink, she felt inebriated. The world around her swam and blurred, except for Rangiku. The fat woman filled Tatsuki’s vision. Her rotund arm reached up, stroking and caressing Tatsuki’s own face. It was like each stroke of her thumb was trying to pull a specific sentence out of Tatsuki. She felt her mouth flexing to open, her lips ready to form the words. The curly haired woman could hardly believe what she was readying to say. “I’m. . .sure there are other ways we could have fun.” One hand then another came down on Rangiku’s folds. Tatsuki’s hands pawed and patted at her friend’s enormous bulk. She explored a body that was not so different from her own, only a little further down the same path. “Not sure how though.” Tatsuki said stupidly, not sure if she was saving or damning herself.
“Let me show you.” Rangiku hummed. She pulled Tatsuki down, letting their lips meet. The two kissed long and hard, each expressing feelings that had been long buried. Rnagiku had ever been searching for someone to pour her love into. Likewise, Tatsuki had been searching for someone to pull it out of her. In a strange but perfect union, they met in the middle. Tatsuki leaned further upon Rangiku, letting her chest rest upon the fatter woman’s torso. Slowly, without breaking their embrace, Tatsuki shifted her own mass on top of Rangiku’s. Mentally, she marveled at how much bigger and softer the older woman was. Her own reasonably fat body sank into the soul reaper’s mass, plunging into its depths without hesitation. Tatsuki could think only of the food that had gone into Rangiku to make her so heavy. Likewise, she thought about what it would take to make her match the other woman’s size.
--- Eating Out ---
“I really. . .wish you. . .would have let me change. . .into. . .something nicer.” Tatsuki huffed and panted as she waddled into the restaurant. She was draped in an ill-fitting sweatsuit. Despite the copious amounts of elastic in the waistband, it struggled to contain all of Tatsuki’s girth. The weeks spent with her new girlfriend had been kind to the curly haired woman’s soul, but even more generous to her figure. Tatsuki was no longer a woman on the edge of fatness. Rather, she had exploded far into morbid obesity. Her steps were slow and ponderous, her wall of gut fat acting as a metronome for her heavy march. A thick leg would drop, sending vigorous movement through the rest of her moist flab. Her stomach sagged out and under her shirt, flopping over her thighs and drooping nearly down towards her knees. From behind, her butt was almost fully exposed. Each step made her butt dance more. Tatsuki might have been stoic and a little unassuming, but that was not shared by her butt. The bulbous posterior demanded to be seen, wanting the world to see how it danced back and forth. Tatsuki’s steps were interrupted with her stopping to tug her clothes back into place. Luckily, she had help. . .of a kind.
“I could never!” Rangiku appeared at Tatsuki’s side, grabbing her doughy arm. There was no space left in the gray sweatshirt’s sleeve. Every inch was taken up by Tatsuki’s excessively round biceps. The former lieutenant intentionally shook her lover’s arm, testing the heaviness. “I want you to be as comfy as possible!” Rangiku beamed, switching her grip only so that she could put a hand behind to paw at Tatsuki’s ass. She pretended to tug the sweatpants back into place. In actuality, Rangiku was just searching for the black thong that had gone missing between Tatsuki’s buttcheeks. “Only the best for my Tatty-Fatty!” Rangiku trotted the new nickname out with further hugs and kisses, smothering her girlfriend in verbal and physical love. Her hand lifted buttcheeks bigger than cement bags. The creamy butt fat seemed to melt around Rangiku’s hands, taking up any and all space around the pudgy palms. Tatsuki had done well in catching up to Rangiku’s size. The older woman had politely slowed her own eating so her girlfriend could catch up. Now, both well over 600 pounds, they could roll like hogs in a pen together. The idea would have been sorely tempting to both. “Now let’s get you fed!”
Tatuski huffed, slightly miffed about Rangiku’s brazen mention of her ballooning weight and appetite. While it was a life she had chosen, Tatsuki had yet to fully come to terms with it. “Could you. . .not. . .refer to. . my weight. . .in public?” Tatsuki heaved and huffed As she spoke. Speaking while moving was hard and she needed every bit of help to move through the open doors. They were thrown wide by the staff. Waiters stood behind the doors, each silently ready to help the women in if needed. Tatsuki lurched from side to side, obviously struggling under her new girth. She had grown too quickly, packing on weight at a rate that should have been impossible. Now, her body struggled to hold its own girth. Her hands were crooked out at odd angles, nervously working to keep her balance. Her biceps swam in gigantic pools of blubber, singing even lower on breasts that now made Orihime look flat. Above all, however, Tatsuki’s butt dominated the world around her. Her cheeks were ponderous wellsprings of jiggles. There were almost layers to the movement of her ass, little ripples that existed between the huge shakes. Tatsuki’s rear acted as a shelf for Rangiku’s gut as they made their way into the restaurant.
“Your walking has improved, Tatty!” Rangiku said playfully, feeling the bottom of her belly massaged by the top of her girlfriend’s butt. “Even for a human, you manage your weight well.” Rangiku’s comments were partially her gloating. Thanks to reserves of spiritual pressure and years of soul reaper training, Rangiku had little trouble waddling. Rangiku moved as if she was only 400 pounds. She had an obvious waddle, but nothing like Tatuski’s fight to maintain momentum. While she had lost any true agility, Rangiku had at least maintained the ability to put one leg in front of the other and talk without interruption, a skill denied to Tatsuki. What had been lost, however, was Rangiku’s reach. Anything outside of the circumference of her gut was lost to Rangiku. No matter how she strained and twisted her bulky body, Tatsuki’s heavy rolls were denied her. Rangiku was forced to be content with the feeling of her paunch sliding back and forth as she waddled towards their table.
The table was in the center of the dining floor, placed under the direct beams of the lighting above. The slow, less than graceful sitting of the two women was almost a stage play for the rest of the restaurant. Three chairs had been provided for Rangiku and three for Tatsuki, but a fourth was added to help compensate for the sheer spread of her voluminous behind. Waiters on either side helped to pull the chairs out for the two behemoths. The pair shifted sideways between the chairs and the table, trying to not disturb the room with their mass. Tatsuki was especially ginger with her movements, almost afraid to step. Their stomachs dragged on the table, pulling back the cloth that had been laid out. Their bulks swayed in time, only heightening the comparison to a coordinated dance.
However, that symmetry was broken when Rangiku started to lower her bulk into the seat. The soul reaper, eager to start eating, let gravity be her guide. “Wwwwoooo! Look out, boys!” She called, not bothering to look behind her. There was a clattering and scraping of furniture across the floor as the waiters tried to catch her. By sheer luck, Rangiku’s rotund form managed to land centered on the chairs. She spared a moment to adjust her watermelon like breasts, and then gestured for her date to take her seat. “Tatty! Come on now, I KNOW you can’t stay standing forever.” Rangiku laughed and tilted her head. She delivered what might have otherwise been an insult with such unrestrained love that Tatsuki was able to overlook the comment. Instead, she was far more focused on making sure that her ass found it’s way safely onto her quartet of chairs.
“Sorry.” Tatuski looked over her shoulder, wincing with pangs of empathy. She knew what the waiters were about to go through, and it would not be pretty. Her loose curls shook as she tried to look behind her. The landing was unclear, hidden by padded shoulders and rolling back fat. She started an unsure squat. Tatsuki’s face grew tighter as she felt her sweatpants pull down even lower than they already were. Her butt seemed to double in size as she worked herself towards her seat. The thin line of gray that was her only defense against embarrassing nakedness grew ever thinner. The moon of her butt waxed fully as the formerly thin and athletic woman started to sit. Her gut, still chambered under the front of her pants, tried to swing between her legs but found the way blocked. The gates of Tatsuki’s thighs had slammed shut on each other, preventing all passage. Her knees, utterly buried and swaddled in fat, flexed with the last vestiges of strength afforded to them. A lifetime of athletics had been undone by months of kido enhanced gluttony with Rangiku. “Coming. . .uuggh. . .down.” Tatsuki grunted through clenched teeth as she tried to lower several hundred sandbags worth of fat onto her chairs. The easing went well, until Tatsuki saw Rangiku’s face. The strawberry blonde woman turned her chubby face to the side and stuck her tongue out. Tatsuki swooned and lost control, plummeting into her chairs.
The restaurant was silent for a moment as the chairs were tested. Tatsuki tried to grab the chairs, but could only reach soft fields of flab. One of the legs of the central most chairs cracked and the hefty woman sank an inch. Her hands tried to reach the table, but were again blocked by walls of flab. Tatsuki’s gut had bubbled up, landing on the table itself. The fat woman had to be content tugging on her sweater for any sort of stability. Slowly, however, the jiggles subsided. The restaurant grew totally still, those dining around the girls having stopped to witness the spectacle. The silence was thicker than either woman. Tatsuki looked around, ready to make more apologies for her girth. Rather embarrassingly, she was stopped by her stomach. A loud, room filling gurgle burst forth from her middle. Tatsuki started to shrink into herself. However, she stopped when another intense gurgle answered in reply. The highly obese athlete looked up to see her date smiling even broader than before, shirt pulled up to expose her pale gut.
“Waiter, we’re ready to order!” Rangiku said with finality.
--- A Hero’s Task ---
“Rangiku, Tatsuki, open up.” Ichigo knocked on the door, pointedly looking away from it. As always when faced with difficult social situations, Ichigo’s first instinct was avoidance. His second was gruff manners. “Hey, if you two are going to bug me with food orders you at least have to pick them up.” He knocked again, caught between duty and the desire to run. He could hear movement behind the door, though it was distant. “How the hell did Tatsuki get dragged into all of this? I thought she would have had more sense.” Ichigo mumbled to himself. As he knocked the door began to swing inwards, having already been loosened on its hinges. The frame had been ruined by many movements of increasingly fat women. The door swung open fully, revealing cracked walls and dented floors. It took little detective work to understand what could damage a house’s foundations like that. In amazement, Ichigo stepped into the house. He ran his hand along the wall, feeling how deep the depressions went.
Sweat formed on the back of Ichigo’s neck as he stared down the hallway, knowing it was but a small example of the rest of the house. He saw large dents in the walls, almost like someone had taken wrecking balls or battering rams to them. He was hypnotized by the mess, unable to stop from taking steps into the den of gluttony. “Jeeze, Tatuski, what the hell are you two doing?” Ichigo made his comment, knowing full well what the pair had been up to. He tripped on a rut in the floor, a place where two gigantic buttocks had landed hard. His delivery got further and further from his mind as the investigation continued. Ichigo did not bother to call out for either woman, instead having another trail to follow. The sound from the back of the room was growing louder with each step. It was the musical sounds of two women enjoying themselves. He heard giggles mixed with the sounds of fat hitting fat. Below his feet, Ichigo felt the house shake. The shaking grew so intense that he began to feel it in his chest. By the time he arrived at a door in the very back of the house, he could hardly breathe due to pent up excitement.
The door was bent outwards, with similar cracks in the walls around it as the rest of the house. Yet, unlike the other walls, this door’s torment had not ended yet. It seethed in and out, moving like a person’s chest after hard exercise. With each sag outwards the door bent further. Around it leaked creamy fat. Ichigo stood at the foot of the door, looking up as more and more fat burst outwards. As the fat jiggled, the noises from within grew more sensual and loud. Giggles, moans, and even some screams filled the air. Ichigo knew he was viewing something that he should not be, that he had accidentally found himself in a situation that would turn embarrassing faster than it would anything else. All the same, however, he could not leave. His grip on the strap of his delivery bag tightened, though more out of excitement than from fear. He had long avoided any sort of romantic encounter. He had always told himself that it was because he had better things to be doing or that it was a hassle. Now he knew those statements to be lies. It was because he hadn’t found a girl big enough. As the door hinges began to give and the mess of fat within was revealed, Ichigo knew he had found what he was unconsciously searching for.
The door gave in a violent crack, flying down the hallway with enough force to whoosh past Ichigo’s hair. It crashed into a wall, partially destroying it. Ichigo paid it little attention, instead scrutinizing the scene in front of him. It was like two oceans meeting in real time. Twin sets of fat with scant bits of identifying features to distinguish either woman. Rangiku rolled above Tatsuki, the swells of her fat bearing down on Tatsuki’s own bulk. The soul reaper’s breasts filled most of the room themselves, huge bell shaped mammaries that remained perky in spite of their mass. Raniku’s breasts shook with her nipples pointed at the center in excitement. Her strawberry hair streamed down her body, outlining her folds with brilliant leafing. Her arms were held above her head, partly out of excitement and partly because the myriad of arm rolls forced them. She shook with ecstasy, finally getting the sexual attention that she had desired for so long. She moaned and sang her pleasure out to the world, stopping only to say the name of her lover. “Tatsuki! Ooooh. . . I love you. . .Tatsuki!” Far too fat to do anything other than let her body be worked upon, Rangiku pulled at her own chubby cheeks. Ichigo, following the canyon-like space between Rangiku’s breasts, was able to see Tatsuki.
His longtime friend was buried up to her face between Rangiku’s breasts, her own slightly smaller pair working to support them. Tatsuki switched between the immense boobs, using her mouth and tongue to provide any sort of stimulation she could. She licked and sucked the literal walls of breast fat, straining her body for all it was worth. Arms that were little more than a series of thick rolls flapped as they tried to grab at the waving mounds of Rangiku’s body. Tatsuki’s head went from either being swallowed by her own body, namely the bountiful asscheeks which bloomed behind her, or Rangiku’s. Tatsuki’s cavernous asscheeks loomed over Ichigio, their mass reaching out for him. With the door gone, Tatuki’s flab was free to seep backwards. Like water traveling through a broken dam, Tasuki’s ass started to spread across the hallway. This did not go unnoticed by Tatsuki, who was eager to report to Rangiku. “I. . . ooooh. . .broke. . .aaah. . .the door!” She huffed and panted the words out, struggling to speak. Rangiku, excited by the news, looked up. She squealed when she saw Ichigo.
“Oooohh. . .a peeping Tom!” She pretended to be offended at the indecent exposure and accidental voyeurism. Rangiku made like she was going to cover her breasts. She fell into herself as her weight leaned forward. The immobile soul reaper shifted like a pile of snow, gradually gaining steam. Her breasts fanned out to either side of Tatsuki, cracking and breaking the walls to either side. The ground shook underneath Ichgio’s feet as thousands of pounds of woman found a new resting place. Tatsuki was denied access to Rangiku’s breasts, but instead was once again treated to her face. Hardly without stopping, the spikey haired woman started to kiss her temptress, repaying her for introducing her to a world of unlimited fulfillment and potential. Rangiku, unable to deny any sort of attention, kissed back, through her eyes stayed trained on Ichigo. His broad shoulders and masculine face were outlined perfectly by the shifting folds of Tatsuki’s ass. It was almost like he was bearing down on her. The thought gave Rangiku an idea. Summoning all of her will power, she pushed away from her younger lover. “Tatty! We have a guest. Maybe one you might know.” Rangiku said, her fluttering with excitement. Rangiku pushed into the other woman’s pooling shoulders, starting the laborious process of getting her to look over her shoulders.
Tatsuki turned like a battleship in rough seas, though it was her own body she fought against. The dark haired woman saw only her jiggling fat for uninterrupted seconds as she was brought around. Her breasts hugged Rangiku’s bubbling stomach, their bulks intermingled in sensitive perfection. Tatsuki saw first her flabby bicep, then one peak of ass blubber with a second next to it. She was so huge that Ichigo was initially lost to sight. However, as her butt dipped, she finally spotted the young man. “Aaaah. . .come to. . . spy!” Tatsuki called. “What a. . .pervert!” The tomboy teased her friend, knowing what his reaction would be. She heard the rustling of deliveries as he spiked the bag in frustration.
“Like hell! I came here to give you two your food!” Ichigo stepped forward, plating a foot on Tatsuki’s ass. His feet were swallowed past the ankle, fat rolling up to his calf.
“Woah. . .so. . .touchy. . .and forward!” Tatsuki heaved the words out. She looked over her shoulder one last time, losing the strength to prop her flab up. Her flab shifted soon after, spinning her back around towards Rangiku. Tatsuki managed a final comment though. “One touch. . .means. . .you gotta. . .join.” A heavy arm flopped backward, trying to slap at her butt. It was unable to reach, instead sinking into what might have been love handles at one point, now expanded to the size of tablecloths. Tatsuki forced her body to gyrate, working whatever muscles she still had. She listed back and forth, almost as if she was pleasuring the ground below her. “Come on. . .Ichigo. . .just one. . .for a friend.” Unable to stop her wanton lust, Tastuki felt herself getting wet. “Fuuuuuccck. . .me!” She moaned, amending her statement after she felt Rangiku kissing her. “Us!”
Ichigo felt something replacing his frustration and anger. It was a feeling he had long denied and hid. Usually stoic, annoyed, or angry, he had little place for other feelings. When he felt lust and carnal passion gripping his heart, he almost didn’t recognize it. His gaze was stolen by the gigantic sacks of fat wobbling in front of him. They towered over his body, so massive they could swallow him whole. With his foot still planted in Tatsuki, Ichigo felt the riptide of her fat pulling him inwards. With each lunge of her body he was brought a little closer. Tatsuki fell lower, shifting onto her stomach fully. It was like she had transformed her body into the bottom floor of a bouncy castle, with the clapping of fat instead of the whooshing of air. Ichigo tried to pull away, the last vestiges of his sober mind tugging at his sense of right and wrong. It was a weak attempt though, with him only turning his shoulders slightly; his eyes remained on Tatsuki’s monumental ass. After four heartbeats he had turned around, already undoing his shirt.
