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Shy as I am to acknowledge it, I do enjoy writing and reading about fatty furs. Very much so. People here and there caught wind or at the very least sussed this out and I was approached to do a trade with someone. I figured... why not? So! Here's my part of a trade that I figured I may as well be brave enough to post. Even if it is sheeped away in my Scraps. Here is hoping those of you sussing this out enjoy reading of bigs and fats!
“So you playing online or offline?” Gretchen’s voice called out from across the hallway. Nearly a minute passed without a response. Lips pursed, she furrowed her brows when silence continued to be the answered offered up to her. Clearing her throat, the opossum raised her voice a couple decibels. “Molly! You online or offline?”
The muted whirr of computer towers, thrumming in sync across multiple rooms in their shared household, provided the backdrop to the persisting lack of a reply. With a roll of her eyes, Gretchen swiveled about in her chair and glared out at the occupant of the room opposite her.
A German Shephard, her bespectacled face lit up by the glow of the monitor before her, clicked away blissfully ignorant to the anger she had incited. Earbuds tucked away within the fluffy appendages that adorned the top of her head snaked their way out and along her desk. Coiling through a forest of equal parts plastic and metal, comprised primarily of bottles, cans, and bags of sodium laden food stuffs, the cables to the canine’s budget headset embedded themselves somewhere into one of the unseen audio jacks that lined the underside of the canine’s plastic rimmed display.
Gretchen’s disapproving ogle drilled into the side of Molly’s head to no effect. Sighing, visibly deflating as she did so, the opossum grumbled and took to clacking up a storm on her keyboard.
BWOOP
Molly’s ears perked to attention when the telltale audio, and garishly bright visual, cues alerted her to a new IM. With a flick of her wrist the GSD guided her mouse over to the bottom right corner of her monitor and opened the chat.
[09:13:00 PM] Gretchen: MOlly. Online or off??????
Eyeballs drifting to the sides of their sockets, Molly timidly sneaked a peek at the opossum lurking within the periphery of her vision. The canine smiled nervously while she watched her roomie impatiently throw her arms out to her sides.
“O-offline,” the German Shep hurriedly replied with a forceful shake of her head. Earbuds tumbled out from the sides of her noggin and landed with a crinkle atop a crumb filled bag of chips. She puffed out her cheeks at the roll of the eyes and disapproving sigh that was provided in turn. “Look, PvE is tough enough as it is! I don’t need random invasions gumming up the works.”
“Weeeeaaaak,” Gretchen drawled on while she swiveled about in her chair.
“You haven’t even finished installing it yet!” Molly huffed back.
“Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-”
The dog puffed up at a red lock of hair that draped down upon her forehead. To her hmmfing displeasure it refused to return from whence it came. She continued to puff, and raspberry, at it while Gretchen’s groan dragged on. “You done yet?”
“-eeeeeaaaak.” A subdued ding, layered with crackling static, rang out from the opossum’s ancient speakers. Knees tucked under her chair, Gretchen stretched out her legs. Limbs tunking loudly against the side of her desk, she came to a halt. She eagerly eyed the contents of the popup that pulsed through the layers of dust clouding her screen.
Salty Souls installation complete
A devilish grin crept up along Gretchen’s mug as she launched the game. “Say Molly. How far along are ya?”
“Just got out of the character creation screen,” the Shep sighed. “No, Gretchen. Not interested in racing tonight.” Drawing her attention back to her game in progress, Molly eyed her player character sprawled out upon a blackened beach. Waves, foamy and bubbling, lapped steadily against their prone form. Rising to their feet, water trickling off the cuffs of their tattered pants, the emaciated canine avatar stumbled forward and lurched towards a rusted sword and barnacle crusted shield.
The opossum shrugged. “Pffff. Race? You and I both know it wouldn’t be much of one.”
Molly’s character tumbled back and forth across the beach in between swinging wildly at the air. Rumbling thunder and the crashing of waves could be heard wafting out from the earbuds lost among the refuse littering the German Shephard’s desk. Disinterest dripping from her voice Molly casually countered, “You play it at your pace and I’ll play it at mine.”
Nose scrunched, Gretchen huffed and promptly started a new game. Clicking through the menus with one hand she reached out for a two-liter bottle of soda with the other. Wrist straining, the opossum struggle to pop the cap off as she randomized her character’s appearance and stat allocation. A hiss of fuzz accompanied the sudden surge in liquid up plastic bottle’s narrow neck. Hurriedly bringing the cup of carbonation up to her lips, Gretchen drank deeply. Her throat bulged with every burning swallow as she noisily inhaled through her nose. The caffeinated concoction settled heavily within her trim tummy. Gases expanding within it, pushing her petite gut up against her desk, a raucous belch flew free from her rippling lips. Sighing happily, the opossum finished off the rest of the two-liter with a satisfied sigh.
Urp. Whatever lead Molly had wouldn’t last for long, Gretchen assured herself. Smacking her lips, she fumbled around for a wireless controller as the intro cinematic droned on before her.
Meanwhile, the canine across the hall contentedly took in rendered scenery as she took a snack break. Leaning back into her chair, cracks veining out where her petite form pressed against the warm leather, Molly noisily munched on some chips. Flashes of light lit up the Shep’s face every time lightning flashed across the screen. Cheeks puffed out and lips coated with salt and BBQ flavoring, Molly’s eyes drifted across the bleak landscape.
Chunks of wood and seaweed lay splayed out across the beach. The violent churning and lapping of the waves dragged back and promptly regurgitated the refuse within its reach. Out beyond the surf a ship lay impaled upon a cluster of barnacle encrusted spires. Its proud figurehead… oop!
Arching her brows, Molly’s thin fingers pinched together pitifully at what few crumbs remained within the puff of plastic that had contained a cornucopia of chips moments earlier. Brushing her digits against her shirt, rust red streaks collecting on the black fabric that surrounded the Poison Mushroom emblem adorned across her humble chest, the canine got to gaming once more.
“Molly! Yo, Molly!” Gretchen called out while her player character respawned before a pillar of salt. Roaring waves lapped up the side of the cliff where her lightly armored avatar idled before the latest checkpoint. Water and foam buffeted both her and the pillar, eating away at the monument of mineral’s misshapen sides and the durability of the weapons and armor Gretchen had equipped. Grunting, the opossum’s gut sagged atop her thighs and pressed firmly against the arms of her computer chair. Firm folds of fat molding over their soft plastic surface, pressing the arms apart every time a monstrous gurgle roared free, she inhaled another two liter while she awaited a response.
“Hmmm?” The now corpulent canine offered up only a fraction of her attention as shiks and thwacks sounded out from her discarded ear buds.
Furrowing her brows, Gretchen kneaded her stomach painfully before letting another belch escape from between her lips. The empty bottles lining her desk tentatively tumbled over before rolling about and bopping against one another. “Blunt or Sharp? What weapon types work better on the mobs, you figure?” A subdued bark was provided in response.
Hmmphing, Molly scooped up packet of N’oreos and shoved handfuls of cookies at a time into her soft maw while she waited out her latest death animation. Her soft fuzzy fingers, plump and chafing together, twiddled away the crumbs that had collected on them. “The mace was working wonders… until it broke on me. “
Gretchen nuzzled her chin against her soft chest as she hurriedly flicked through her inventory. Starman stretched taut across her chest, the dye comprising it cracking as it struggled to spread over her swelling form, the opposum’s shirt rested atop her bloated belly. “Then why doncha just repair it? Did you not grab the toolbox back from the merchant in the Basalt Bastion?”
“Really? I thought he only sold weapons?” The Shep shifted in her chair. Her thunderous thighs, threatening to spill free from her audibly straining jeans, ground along one another and ripped apart fraying strands of denim.
“That’s just the first page of his inventory, girl. Tab over a couple pages and you’ll find it.” Gretchen splayed her toes apart unsuccessfully while she familiarized herself with the mace’s move set. The opossum’s digits had swollen so fat and thick that they mooshed against one another regardless.
Eyes half lidded, Molly puffed up forlornly at the locks of red and black hair that draped over her eyes. Upon respawning, she swiveled the camera on its axis and eyed a ring of prismatic stones reaching out from the ocean and piercing the darkened horizon. Holding up the packet of N’oreos over her mouth she tapped at its sides. The remaining dozen or so cookies were emptied into her gullet and prompted a pained creak from her chair as it collapsed a couple of height settings under her ever increasing weight. “Better unlock the ability to warp between pillars soon…” Molly mumbled under her breath in between chews.
[06:42:17 PM] Goat: Molly? You there?
[06:45:53 PM] Goat: Molly your Mist ID says you’ve played Salty Souls for 40 hours
[06:45:59 PM] Goat: Thing has been out for all of 2 days
[06:46:11 PM] Goat: Please tell me you’ve just been letting it idle in that or something
[06:55:02 PM] Goat: Annnnnnnd I’m gonna guess no given the timestamps on all the achivements
[06:59:44 PM] Goat: Gawd Gretchen is no better with her 39.7 hours
[07:00:30 PM] Goat: Yeah I’m swinging by tomorrow after I get off my shift
Heaving breasts blocking her view of the lower reaches of her computer monitor, and the entirety of her desk, Molly grumpily dismissed the friendly distractions by biting into her swollen lips.
Ears perked to attention the canine ravenously devoured every audio cue that filtered into the sides of her fluffy head. Before her, looming all of a head and shoulders above her on screen, stood Napiro the Ancient Architect. Deep within the salt mines they fought one another. Seawater dripped down from the glistening white stalactites that draped down menacingly from the rocky ceiling as the virtual combatants circled and strafed. Teeth clenched, Molly resolved to make this umpteenth attempt a successful one. Every grunt, every schwick of his stave, every bellow provided a clue for what attack to expect next.
Her controller had long since disappeared between her fat thick palms. Clasped together tight her pudgy thumbs and index fingers buried the controller’s curved form beneath folds of fat and velvety soft padded flesh. Deftly shifting the weight on her bloated fingers Molly was able to attack, dodge, and maneuver all without moving her digits so much as an inch.
Panting, bosom rising and falling to dangerous monitor obscuring heights, the German Shep watched the boss’ health diminish clip by clip. “Don’t get greedy, don’t get greedy, don’t get greedy…” she frantically told herself.
Shifting in place, her chair flattened into a plastic pancake beneath her astronomical asscheeks, the dog’s tail lazily flopped side to side. Molly’s eyes widened at the sights and sounds. An opening! Pressing down on her left thumb, padded flab enveloping the analog stick, she lurched her player character forward and swung at Napiro.
A pained moan sounded out from his character model as the stave in his hand clanked against the uneven floor pocked with puddles. Dropping to his knees, the boss fell forward and exploded into light and hundreds of thousands of NaCl points. Jaw agape, Molly stared in reverent awe at the message that displayed on screen.
GUD GOT
Leaning back, the Shep let loose a relieved sigh that dragged on. Her gut slowly spilled out and over her desk. The flabalanche of fur molded around its shape before overwhelming the furniture and everything atop it. She giggled at the warm hum of her monitor and computer tower lost between her rolls.
“Finally!” Molly barked in delighted disbelief. Her white whale. Her salty white whale had finally been slain. Blinking repeatedly, struggling to peer through the tiny spectacles balanced atop her soft muzzle, Molly was at a rapturous loss for words. She slapped a hand against her bountiful chest to check that it was real. That this had well and truly happened. Whatever shirt she was wearing now, she wasn’t really sure given the graphic on it had been stretched far past the point of illegibility, strained to contain even a fraction of the beach ball sized breasts that jiggled within.
Rendered nothing more than all smiles the canine contentedly bobbed her head side to side while her legs, columns of fat and muscle that had long since burst free from the denim that tried to confine them, were pressed apart. “Whoof. I could use a break.”
Grunts, urps, and huffs followed as Molly struggled to rise to her fat feet. The house shook with every tepid footfall as she struggled to balance herself. Fat feet sinking deep into her hardwood floor, adorned with plump toes that dwarfed the very shoes she had worn at the start of the long weekend, the Shep slowly plodded on out of her room. Nearly wide as she was tall, she struggled to… well Molly thought she was going to anyway. The momentum afforded to her engorged form allowed her to simply crash through and rip the frame, wood paneling and the wiring within it, out and into the hallway.
Hands atop her tummy she hmmffed and oofed as her hips, heft, and shoulders wobbled with every uneasy step. Bowed out drywall, swollen footprints whose very soles swallowed up Molly’s entire paws, and dents in the ceiling afforded the German Shep roomy passage. Stepping out into the living room she rolled her eyes at the mountain of opossum.
“Finally beat Napiro, huh?” Gretchen’s husky voice teased. Controller lost between but two of her pudgy digits the Shep’s roomie had found her progress slowed significantly. Chins resting against her couch sized breasts she had been forced to hook up to the wall spanning TV simply so she could continue to see what she was slashing at.
“Took me long enough…” Molly grumbled as she sauntered into the kitchen.
“Only gets tougher from here,” the opossum cryptically warned.
Her nearly room filling form, clad only in bra and undies that defied the fundamental properties of physics by refusing to burst free off her fattened form, radiated equal parts warmth and smug.
Raucous belches and braps roared free from the kitchen to the accompaniment of clanging glass and cabinet doors in response to the opossum’s putdown.
“Hey hey hey!”
“What?” Molly inquired between chews and house rattling burps.
Tapping a foot against a wall, one that now rivaled her gal pal in size, Gretchen sought to drown out the dog’s dietary habits.
“Keep it down in there would you? Sound design is everything in this game!” Grunting, she brushed aside the flakes of paint that had rained down upon her from the ceiling as Molly continued gorging herself unabated.
“Molly! Gretchen! I know you’re in there!” Goat rapped his hard keratin fingers against the sun bleached wooden door that sought to prevent his entry. Shoes tapping loudly against the cracked sidewalk, his reserves of patience found themselves rapidly depleted.
“Augh enough with the formalities,” he groaned to himself. Hand shoved deep into his jean pockets he fumbled for his keys. Flipping through a jingling thong of gold and silver hued bits of metal, Goat pinched their spare house key between his fingertips. Slipping it into the deadbolt, Goat flicked his wrist to the left and pressed against the door’s rectangular frame.
It budged minutely. Lips pulled flat, Goat pressed his shoulder into the door and rammed into it. In fits and spurts it gave way as he slowly forced aside whatever it was that German Shep and opossum had allowed to collect inside. Slinking his way inside, oofing as the doorknob bumped against his belly, Goat quickly found himself acquainted with the blockage.
Swallowing hard, shades of crimson burning through his brown furred cheeks, Goat huffed as he found himself pressed against the soft contours of a colossal asscheek. Folds of cream colored flab that radiated with warmth poured free from the gargantuan gaps and tears in the tent sized underwear before him.
“Goat noooo!” The mountainous mass of ass wailed. A feminine voice, husky and rich as syrup, groaned as a Wilhelm scream echoed out from unseen speakers.
“Ahaha! You know the gig, time to trade off!”
Hands spread apart and hugging into what had been revealed to be SUV-sized Shep cheeks, Goat eeped. Via the sheer gravity of the morbidly massive Molly he had found himself buried into those gloriously globes. Or at least that’s how he explained it away. “Molly? Gretchen?” Tilting his head back he drank in the sight of a broad canine back, lined with rolls, that stretched on up to the ceiling.
“Pipe down there pipsqueak, I’m trying to concentrate!” The portly opossum bellowed. Holding her arm out to her side, the bloated hallway filling limb swaying side to side, she made grabby hands at the German shep. A petite speck of plastic was grumpily dumped atop a padded fingertip as she took her turn whittling away at the penultimate boss.
In the periphery of his vision Goat gawked at Gretchen’s engorged form. It was less a living room and more a living landscape comprised primarily of an overwhelming amount of opossum. Splinters of wood and mounds of leather and stuffing popped up from beneath those folds every time she grunted while meticulously guiding her and Molly’s shared avatar through the world of Salty Souls.
“I. What. How?” Fumbling for words, Goat cautiously guided himself around the colossal curves that comprised his gargantuan gal pals. He slowly wedged himself between two buttressing butt cheeks and oofed as an errant clench pinned him tight between warm walls of grey and cream colored fur. As his very breath was squeezed from his chest all he could do was pitifully look up in a mixture of recoil and relief.
At the very least he was relieved to see both Molly and Gretchen were fine! His breathing shallow, Goat took in what little he could. Those billowing bellies that bowed out the very walls they pressed against. Shattered plaster and insulation bleeding out from holes they made draped along their taut curves. Then there were the, ahem, assets atop them. Gawd it wouldn’t be all that much of an exaggeration to classify their heaving bosoms as hills of flesh instead. Huff. He could very well just… disappear within that cleavage and no one would be the wiser. Thinking back on it the recoil at seeing them so swollen was effectively cancelled out by the delight of… seeing them so swollen.
“Gaming grub, Goat! Keeps us gals in our peak and prime!” Gretchen hehed as she squinted her eyes at the now pitifully tiny television screen. Sucking in her gut the best she could, she struggled to take in the entirety of the events playing out on screen. The opossum allowed muscle memory to take the wheel as both she and Molly had tried and failed at this section hundreds of times and counting. Chubby cheeks spread wide she grinned madly as the audio indicators of her onscreen death failed to manifest. Much to Molly’s disdain.
Grabbing at a handful of Gretchen’s heft, Goat struggled to free himself from the flabalanche that threatened to overwhelm him. Another Wilhelm scream sounded out as he did so.
“Awwww look what you did, Goat!” Throwing her hands up, knuckles dragging against the ceiling, Gretchen grumped aloud.
“Hehehe, my turn!” Molly declared as she delicately retrieved the controller. “No distractions this time though, Goat! Gotta focus.”
With a coordinated swish of their hips the bloated buddies crushed Goat tight between their derrieres. “Ech, fair is fair I guess. He blew one of your attempts and goofed one of mine,” the opossum reluctantly acknowledged.
Mmfffing as rippling waves of warmth overwhelmed him, Goat failed to muster much in the way of a complaint. There were certainly worse ways to spend an afternoon.
“So you playing online or offline?” Gretchen’s voice called out from across the hallway. Nearly a minute passed without a response. Lips pursed, she furrowed her brows when silence continued to be the answered offered up to her. Clearing her throat, the opossum raised her voice a couple decibels. “Molly! You online or offline?”
The muted whirr of computer towers, thrumming in sync across multiple rooms in their shared household, provided the backdrop to the persisting lack of a reply. With a roll of her eyes, Gretchen swiveled about in her chair and glared out at the occupant of the room opposite her.
A German Shephard, her bespectacled face lit up by the glow of the monitor before her, clicked away blissfully ignorant to the anger she had incited. Earbuds tucked away within the fluffy appendages that adorned the top of her head snaked their way out and along her desk. Coiling through a forest of equal parts plastic and metal, comprised primarily of bottles, cans, and bags of sodium laden food stuffs, the cables to the canine’s budget headset embedded themselves somewhere into one of the unseen audio jacks that lined the underside of the canine’s plastic rimmed display.
Gretchen’s disapproving ogle drilled into the side of Molly’s head to no effect. Sighing, visibly deflating as she did so, the opossum grumbled and took to clacking up a storm on her keyboard.
BWOOP
Molly’s ears perked to attention when the telltale audio, and garishly bright visual, cues alerted her to a new IM. With a flick of her wrist the GSD guided her mouse over to the bottom right corner of her monitor and opened the chat.
[09:13:00 PM] Gretchen: MOlly. Online or off??????
Eyeballs drifting to the sides of their sockets, Molly timidly sneaked a peek at the opossum lurking within the periphery of her vision. The canine smiled nervously while she watched her roomie impatiently throw her arms out to her sides.
“O-offline,” the German Shep hurriedly replied with a forceful shake of her head. Earbuds tumbled out from the sides of her noggin and landed with a crinkle atop a crumb filled bag of chips. She puffed out her cheeks at the roll of the eyes and disapproving sigh that was provided in turn. “Look, PvE is tough enough as it is! I don’t need random invasions gumming up the works.”
“Weeeeaaaak,” Gretchen drawled on while she swiveled about in her chair.
“You haven’t even finished installing it yet!” Molly huffed back.
“Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-”
The dog puffed up at a red lock of hair that draped down upon her forehead. To her hmmfing displeasure it refused to return from whence it came. She continued to puff, and raspberry, at it while Gretchen’s groan dragged on. “You done yet?”
“-eeeeeaaaak.” A subdued ding, layered with crackling static, rang out from the opossum’s ancient speakers. Knees tucked under her chair, Gretchen stretched out her legs. Limbs tunking loudly against the side of her desk, she came to a halt. She eagerly eyed the contents of the popup that pulsed through the layers of dust clouding her screen.
Salty Souls installation complete
A devilish grin crept up along Gretchen’s mug as she launched the game. “Say Molly. How far along are ya?”
“Just got out of the character creation screen,” the Shep sighed. “No, Gretchen. Not interested in racing tonight.” Drawing her attention back to her game in progress, Molly eyed her player character sprawled out upon a blackened beach. Waves, foamy and bubbling, lapped steadily against their prone form. Rising to their feet, water trickling off the cuffs of their tattered pants, the emaciated canine avatar stumbled forward and lurched towards a rusted sword and barnacle crusted shield.
The opossum shrugged. “Pffff. Race? You and I both know it wouldn’t be much of one.”
Molly’s character tumbled back and forth across the beach in between swinging wildly at the air. Rumbling thunder and the crashing of waves could be heard wafting out from the earbuds lost among the refuse littering the German Shephard’s desk. Disinterest dripping from her voice Molly casually countered, “You play it at your pace and I’ll play it at mine.”
Nose scrunched, Gretchen huffed and promptly started a new game. Clicking through the menus with one hand she reached out for a two-liter bottle of soda with the other. Wrist straining, the opossum struggle to pop the cap off as she randomized her character’s appearance and stat allocation. A hiss of fuzz accompanied the sudden surge in liquid up plastic bottle’s narrow neck. Hurriedly bringing the cup of carbonation up to her lips, Gretchen drank deeply. Her throat bulged with every burning swallow as she noisily inhaled through her nose. The caffeinated concoction settled heavily within her trim tummy. Gases expanding within it, pushing her petite gut up against her desk, a raucous belch flew free from her rippling lips. Sighing happily, the opossum finished off the rest of the two-liter with a satisfied sigh.
Urp. Whatever lead Molly had wouldn’t last for long, Gretchen assured herself. Smacking her lips, she fumbled around for a wireless controller as the intro cinematic droned on before her.
Meanwhile, the canine across the hall contentedly took in rendered scenery as she took a snack break. Leaning back into her chair, cracks veining out where her petite form pressed against the warm leather, Molly noisily munched on some chips. Flashes of light lit up the Shep’s face every time lightning flashed across the screen. Cheeks puffed out and lips coated with salt and BBQ flavoring, Molly’s eyes drifted across the bleak landscape.
Chunks of wood and seaweed lay splayed out across the beach. The violent churning and lapping of the waves dragged back and promptly regurgitated the refuse within its reach. Out beyond the surf a ship lay impaled upon a cluster of barnacle encrusted spires. Its proud figurehead… oop!
Arching her brows, Molly’s thin fingers pinched together pitifully at what few crumbs remained within the puff of plastic that had contained a cornucopia of chips moments earlier. Brushing her digits against her shirt, rust red streaks collecting on the black fabric that surrounded the Poison Mushroom emblem adorned across her humble chest, the canine got to gaming once more.
“Molly! Yo, Molly!” Gretchen called out while her player character respawned before a pillar of salt. Roaring waves lapped up the side of the cliff where her lightly armored avatar idled before the latest checkpoint. Water and foam buffeted both her and the pillar, eating away at the monument of mineral’s misshapen sides and the durability of the weapons and armor Gretchen had equipped. Grunting, the opossum’s gut sagged atop her thighs and pressed firmly against the arms of her computer chair. Firm folds of fat molding over their soft plastic surface, pressing the arms apart every time a monstrous gurgle roared free, she inhaled another two liter while she awaited a response.
“Hmmm?” The now corpulent canine offered up only a fraction of her attention as shiks and thwacks sounded out from her discarded ear buds.
Furrowing her brows, Gretchen kneaded her stomach painfully before letting another belch escape from between her lips. The empty bottles lining her desk tentatively tumbled over before rolling about and bopping against one another. “Blunt or Sharp? What weapon types work better on the mobs, you figure?” A subdued bark was provided in response.
Hmmphing, Molly scooped up packet of N’oreos and shoved handfuls of cookies at a time into her soft maw while she waited out her latest death animation. Her soft fuzzy fingers, plump and chafing together, twiddled away the crumbs that had collected on them. “The mace was working wonders… until it broke on me. “
Gretchen nuzzled her chin against her soft chest as she hurriedly flicked through her inventory. Starman stretched taut across her chest, the dye comprising it cracking as it struggled to spread over her swelling form, the opposum’s shirt rested atop her bloated belly. “Then why doncha just repair it? Did you not grab the toolbox back from the merchant in the Basalt Bastion?”
“Really? I thought he only sold weapons?” The Shep shifted in her chair. Her thunderous thighs, threatening to spill free from her audibly straining jeans, ground along one another and ripped apart fraying strands of denim.
“That’s just the first page of his inventory, girl. Tab over a couple pages and you’ll find it.” Gretchen splayed her toes apart unsuccessfully while she familiarized herself with the mace’s move set. The opossum’s digits had swollen so fat and thick that they mooshed against one another regardless.
Eyes half lidded, Molly puffed up forlornly at the locks of red and black hair that draped over her eyes. Upon respawning, she swiveled the camera on its axis and eyed a ring of prismatic stones reaching out from the ocean and piercing the darkened horizon. Holding up the packet of N’oreos over her mouth she tapped at its sides. The remaining dozen or so cookies were emptied into her gullet and prompted a pained creak from her chair as it collapsed a couple of height settings under her ever increasing weight. “Better unlock the ability to warp between pillars soon…” Molly mumbled under her breath in between chews.
[06:42:17 PM] Goat: Molly? You there?
[06:45:53 PM] Goat: Molly your Mist ID says you’ve played Salty Souls for 40 hours
[06:45:59 PM] Goat: Thing has been out for all of 2 days
[06:46:11 PM] Goat: Please tell me you’ve just been letting it idle in that or something
[06:55:02 PM] Goat: Annnnnnnd I’m gonna guess no given the timestamps on all the achivements
[06:59:44 PM] Goat: Gawd Gretchen is no better with her 39.7 hours
[07:00:30 PM] Goat: Yeah I’m swinging by tomorrow after I get off my shift
Heaving breasts blocking her view of the lower reaches of her computer monitor, and the entirety of her desk, Molly grumpily dismissed the friendly distractions by biting into her swollen lips.
Ears perked to attention the canine ravenously devoured every audio cue that filtered into the sides of her fluffy head. Before her, looming all of a head and shoulders above her on screen, stood Napiro the Ancient Architect. Deep within the salt mines they fought one another. Seawater dripped down from the glistening white stalactites that draped down menacingly from the rocky ceiling as the virtual combatants circled and strafed. Teeth clenched, Molly resolved to make this umpteenth attempt a successful one. Every grunt, every schwick of his stave, every bellow provided a clue for what attack to expect next.
Her controller had long since disappeared between her fat thick palms. Clasped together tight her pudgy thumbs and index fingers buried the controller’s curved form beneath folds of fat and velvety soft padded flesh. Deftly shifting the weight on her bloated fingers Molly was able to attack, dodge, and maneuver all without moving her digits so much as an inch.
Panting, bosom rising and falling to dangerous monitor obscuring heights, the German Shep watched the boss’ health diminish clip by clip. “Don’t get greedy, don’t get greedy, don’t get greedy…” she frantically told herself.
Shifting in place, her chair flattened into a plastic pancake beneath her astronomical asscheeks, the dog’s tail lazily flopped side to side. Molly’s eyes widened at the sights and sounds. An opening! Pressing down on her left thumb, padded flab enveloping the analog stick, she lurched her player character forward and swung at Napiro.
A pained moan sounded out from his character model as the stave in his hand clanked against the uneven floor pocked with puddles. Dropping to his knees, the boss fell forward and exploded into light and hundreds of thousands of NaCl points. Jaw agape, Molly stared in reverent awe at the message that displayed on screen.
GUD GOT
Leaning back, the Shep let loose a relieved sigh that dragged on. Her gut slowly spilled out and over her desk. The flabalanche of fur molded around its shape before overwhelming the furniture and everything atop it. She giggled at the warm hum of her monitor and computer tower lost between her rolls.
“Finally!” Molly barked in delighted disbelief. Her white whale. Her salty white whale had finally been slain. Blinking repeatedly, struggling to peer through the tiny spectacles balanced atop her soft muzzle, Molly was at a rapturous loss for words. She slapped a hand against her bountiful chest to check that it was real. That this had well and truly happened. Whatever shirt she was wearing now, she wasn’t really sure given the graphic on it had been stretched far past the point of illegibility, strained to contain even a fraction of the beach ball sized breasts that jiggled within.
Rendered nothing more than all smiles the canine contentedly bobbed her head side to side while her legs, columns of fat and muscle that had long since burst free from the denim that tried to confine them, were pressed apart. “Whoof. I could use a break.”
Grunts, urps, and huffs followed as Molly struggled to rise to her fat feet. The house shook with every tepid footfall as she struggled to balance herself. Fat feet sinking deep into her hardwood floor, adorned with plump toes that dwarfed the very shoes she had worn at the start of the long weekend, the Shep slowly plodded on out of her room. Nearly wide as she was tall, she struggled to… well Molly thought she was going to anyway. The momentum afforded to her engorged form allowed her to simply crash through and rip the frame, wood paneling and the wiring within it, out and into the hallway.
Hands atop her tummy she hmmffed and oofed as her hips, heft, and shoulders wobbled with every uneasy step. Bowed out drywall, swollen footprints whose very soles swallowed up Molly’s entire paws, and dents in the ceiling afforded the German Shep roomy passage. Stepping out into the living room she rolled her eyes at the mountain of opossum.
“Finally beat Napiro, huh?” Gretchen’s husky voice teased. Controller lost between but two of her pudgy digits the Shep’s roomie had found her progress slowed significantly. Chins resting against her couch sized breasts she had been forced to hook up to the wall spanning TV simply so she could continue to see what she was slashing at.
“Took me long enough…” Molly grumbled as she sauntered into the kitchen.
“Only gets tougher from here,” the opossum cryptically warned.
Her nearly room filling form, clad only in bra and undies that defied the fundamental properties of physics by refusing to burst free off her fattened form, radiated equal parts warmth and smug.
Raucous belches and braps roared free from the kitchen to the accompaniment of clanging glass and cabinet doors in response to the opossum’s putdown.
“Hey hey hey!”
“What?” Molly inquired between chews and house rattling burps.
Tapping a foot against a wall, one that now rivaled her gal pal in size, Gretchen sought to drown out the dog’s dietary habits.
“Keep it down in there would you? Sound design is everything in this game!” Grunting, she brushed aside the flakes of paint that had rained down upon her from the ceiling as Molly continued gorging herself unabated.
“Molly! Gretchen! I know you’re in there!” Goat rapped his hard keratin fingers against the sun bleached wooden door that sought to prevent his entry. Shoes tapping loudly against the cracked sidewalk, his reserves of patience found themselves rapidly depleted.
“Augh enough with the formalities,” he groaned to himself. Hand shoved deep into his jean pockets he fumbled for his keys. Flipping through a jingling thong of gold and silver hued bits of metal, Goat pinched their spare house key between his fingertips. Slipping it into the deadbolt, Goat flicked his wrist to the left and pressed against the door’s rectangular frame.
It budged minutely. Lips pulled flat, Goat pressed his shoulder into the door and rammed into it. In fits and spurts it gave way as he slowly forced aside whatever it was that German Shep and opossum had allowed to collect inside. Slinking his way inside, oofing as the doorknob bumped against his belly, Goat quickly found himself acquainted with the blockage.
Swallowing hard, shades of crimson burning through his brown furred cheeks, Goat huffed as he found himself pressed against the soft contours of a colossal asscheek. Folds of cream colored flab that radiated with warmth poured free from the gargantuan gaps and tears in the tent sized underwear before him.
“Goat noooo!” The mountainous mass of ass wailed. A feminine voice, husky and rich as syrup, groaned as a Wilhelm scream echoed out from unseen speakers.
“Ahaha! You know the gig, time to trade off!”
Hands spread apart and hugging into what had been revealed to be SUV-sized Shep cheeks, Goat eeped. Via the sheer gravity of the morbidly massive Molly he had found himself buried into those gloriously globes. Or at least that’s how he explained it away. “Molly? Gretchen?” Tilting his head back he drank in the sight of a broad canine back, lined with rolls, that stretched on up to the ceiling.
“Pipe down there pipsqueak, I’m trying to concentrate!” The portly opossum bellowed. Holding her arm out to her side, the bloated hallway filling limb swaying side to side, she made grabby hands at the German shep. A petite speck of plastic was grumpily dumped atop a padded fingertip as she took her turn whittling away at the penultimate boss.
In the periphery of his vision Goat gawked at Gretchen’s engorged form. It was less a living room and more a living landscape comprised primarily of an overwhelming amount of opossum. Splinters of wood and mounds of leather and stuffing popped up from beneath those folds every time she grunted while meticulously guiding her and Molly’s shared avatar through the world of Salty Souls.
“I. What. How?” Fumbling for words, Goat cautiously guided himself around the colossal curves that comprised his gargantuan gal pals. He slowly wedged himself between two buttressing butt cheeks and oofed as an errant clench pinned him tight between warm walls of grey and cream colored fur. As his very breath was squeezed from his chest all he could do was pitifully look up in a mixture of recoil and relief.
At the very least he was relieved to see both Molly and Gretchen were fine! His breathing shallow, Goat took in what little he could. Those billowing bellies that bowed out the very walls they pressed against. Shattered plaster and insulation bleeding out from holes they made draped along their taut curves. Then there were the, ahem, assets atop them. Gawd it wouldn’t be all that much of an exaggeration to classify their heaving bosoms as hills of flesh instead. Huff. He could very well just… disappear within that cleavage and no one would be the wiser. Thinking back on it the recoil at seeing them so swollen was effectively cancelled out by the delight of… seeing them so swollen.
“Gaming grub, Goat! Keeps us gals in our peak and prime!” Gretchen hehed as she squinted her eyes at the now pitifully tiny television screen. Sucking in her gut the best she could, she struggled to take in the entirety of the events playing out on screen. The opossum allowed muscle memory to take the wheel as both she and Molly had tried and failed at this section hundreds of times and counting. Chubby cheeks spread wide she grinned madly as the audio indicators of her onscreen death failed to manifest. Much to Molly’s disdain.
Grabbing at a handful of Gretchen’s heft, Goat struggled to free himself from the flabalanche that threatened to overwhelm him. Another Wilhelm scream sounded out as he did so.
“Awwww look what you did, Goat!” Throwing her hands up, knuckles dragging against the ceiling, Gretchen grumped aloud.
“Hehehe, my turn!” Molly declared as she delicately retrieved the controller. “No distractions this time though, Goat! Gotta focus.”
With a coordinated swish of their hips the bloated buddies crushed Goat tight between their derrieres. “Ech, fair is fair I guess. He blew one of your attempts and goofed one of mine,” the opossum reluctantly acknowledged.
Mmfffing as rippling waves of warmth overwhelmed him, Goat failed to muster much in the way of a complaint. There were certainly worse ways to spend an afternoon.
Category Story / Fat Furs
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 120 x 117px
File Size 24 kB
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