Miranda's Worst Mission (Mass Effect)

[Guest Sulla67]

Miranda’s Worst Mission (Mass Effect)

In her nearly twenty year career as a Cerberus agent, Miranda Lawson had done and seen a lot of things. Some of them she was proud of, like preventing a couple wars or helping Commander Shepard save the galaxy. Others had been dirtier but no less necessary. However, there was only one mission that she completely, utterly refused to talk about.

It had started rather innocently enough about two years before the first death of Commander Shepard on the colony world of Breacher’s Hope, one of the most gorgeous garden planets in the System’s Alliance. A serene, tropical jewel, it was known for its stunning beaches, calm seas, temperate jungles and an extremely large orbital shipyard that kept most of the planet employed. However, all was not well in the seeming paradise.

A newcomer Tycoon named Hensen Bados had recently appeared on the scene with seemingly no back ground and gobs of cash. He bought up resorts, casinos beaches and random tracks of wilderness. Most of this would have been humdrum if Cerberus hadn’t detected that Bados had had an archeological dig on one of the properties, something that had uncovered a cache of prothean artifacts. At this point, the clandestine organization would usually buy out the artifacts or simply steal them outright through either guile or force. However, Bados’ security was impenetrable and he employed a small army of highly trained mercs. Thus, the Illusive Man sent in his best agent.

Miranda Lawson: cold, ruthless, brilliant, gorgeous. Product of illegal genetic engineering, she could crush a tank with biotic power, run a research institution or make back to back covers on Galaxy Sports Illustrated’s swimsuit edition. Tall and athletic, Miranda was both droolingly curvy and impossibly lithe, a provision of her engineered metabolism. Bouncy D-cup breasts and a tight, perky badonkadonk went along pleasingly with six pack abs, endless legs and the face of an angel, even though the soul behind its pretty blue eyes might have been accused of coming from somewhere else. All of this came in extra handy, as Bados was known as a womanizer. Miranda found no shortage of him having short lived affairs with movie starlets, swimsuit models and local ass he found on the beach.

Lawson’s plan was simple: using her statuesque body she easily got hired by one of the model agencies based on Breacher’s Hope, one owned by Bados himself. She had had a slight, easily reversible facial alteration before hand, enough to throw off any Alliance security personnel who might see the center fold she quickly wound up in. It was less than a month, and only after a few photoshoots, that the newly single Bados’ assistant came calling.

‘Of course I’d love to have dinner with Mr. Bados,’ said Miranda to the red headed girl who came down to the beach photoshoot where Miranda was wearing a tiny blue two piece, ‘and anything else he requires,’ she added with a naughty grin.

The secretary was surprisingly plump for the personal assistant of someone like Mr. Bados. Her green body suit was extremely snug in the thighs and stomach, so tight that a line of doughy flesh muffin topped over her waist band. Miranda was actually a little surprised, nanites and low fat food making fat girls a rare sight, but feeling a little vain she stretched a little more, somehow showing off even more of her own flawless stomach.

‘Oh yes,’ the secretary said, placing a plump hand on her own stomach, ‘I’m sure he’s going to put a lot on you.’

It wasn’t until later that Miranda caught the ‘put’ in the sentence.

The date happened to be at the planet’s most expensive and best rated restaurant. A hover-limo fetched Miranda there and she leaned back in its roomy interior, surprised at the amount of snacks and candies on display. The leggy Cerberus agent actually had quite an appetite due to her biotic powers and due to her genetics actually had it easy when it came to keeping off weight. Reasoning that it was a one time deal, she idly popped a chocolate into her mouth.

‘Mmmmm,’ she moaned, surprised by the buttery richness of the chocolate and the sweet tartness of the cherry filling. It had been a while since anything had tasted so good. She helped herself to a few more, uncaring that she was on her way to dinner and the cleavage baring, backless, incredibly short dress she was wearing was already skin tight. Soon the Cerberus spy was whisked to the restaurant, easily stepping out of the limo and showing off an immense length of firm leg to anyone who might be watching. An Asari waitress wearing almost as little as Miranda led the ‘model’ to her seat, the table already occupied by her date.

‘A little tight for this place, don’t you think?’ the blue alien asked Miranda.

‘I could ask you the same thing.’

‘I’m not going to eat here,’ the asari said mysteriously before leaving.

Mr. Bados proved to be a huge, incredibly good looking man. There were muscles on his muscles and his rugged face and crewcut seemed more at home on a marine than a land tycoon. Gentlemanly like he pulled back Miranda’s chair for her and gently pushed it forwards until her flat belly was near the table. A steaming basket of buttery bread sticks was already there, next to dipping cups of melted butter and rich oil.

‘So you’re this up and comer looking for rookie of the year my assistant tells me about?’ the tycoon asked, his eyes already looking Miranda’s curvy figure up and down. She caught him staring at her breasts and gave him her best airheaded bimbo smile, inhaling to push her plump breasts out even more.

‘Of course, I just love prancing around in negligee,’ Miranda said rather untruthfully, ‘I tried college for a  year, but all the studying was just so boring.’

‘Yes, your dossier said you had just finished your freshman year,’ Bados told her, also informing her that her cover was still good. Miranda might have been able to pass for a particularly clear skinned and busty high school senior, but she was over thirty. Very slow aging was another one of her many genetic benefits.

‘I’m surprised really,’ the tycoon said, ‘you don’t look like most girls who just finished freshman year.’

‘Oh, really?’ said Miranda, inwardly tensing incase she had been made, ‘why is that?’

‘Why, you’re so fit,’ Bados told her, ‘most girls come out of college carrying more than a few extra pounds. While you’re flat as a board, in your stomach at least.’

‘Well, thank God for a  good metabolism and a healthy diet,’ Miranda said, glad that had passed by.

‘As a reward, why don’t I treat you?’ Bados said pushing over the bread, ‘I’ve already got your order put in. The Chef works for me and knows my…ah preferences for my dates.’

The bread did smell heavenly, but Miranda also remembered she had eaten a quarter pound of chocolate on the ride over, ‘I’d love to but I do have to watch my figure if I want to get that cover…’

‘Oh don’t worry about the cover,’ Bados said, ‘I’m offering you a much better deal than just being a model.’

‘Really,’ Miranda asked, ‘what’s that?’

‘You could say I’m in the market for a new companion. I just recently had a break up and am looking for someone to stay around the house, keep me company. It might not be as glamorous as modeling, but the pay is much, much better and there are much… looser restrictions.’

Inwardly Miranda was dancing for joy, thinking, ‘this mission will be easier than I thought.’

‘Well, once I look at the contract and talk to my agent…’

‘He’s already been informed,’ the tycoon said, ‘now why don’t we toast to the start of a beautiful relationship?’

Miranda joined him in holding the glass in the air and drank it in one gulp. Her nanite enhanced blood would keep her from getting drunk, but she had to at least pretend to get tipsy. Taking her que from many of the other tipsy women who were obviously here on dates, she dug into the bread sticks with gusto, pretending that her aversion to fatty food had been overcome by alcohol. They were incredibly good, already dripping with butter she dunked them further into ranch and blue cheese, biting and tearing at the gooey bread as if she was starving.

Strangely enough she did feel incredibly hungry, almost as if the food was enticing her. She barely noticed when she spilled a fat dollop of ranch on her breasts and didn’t even think of decency when she touched it with her finger and licked it off. An appetizer plate of fried food came and quickly went as the insatiable spy demolished it, ignorant of the ring of grease and sauce around her mouth. Her dress was feeling impossibly tight, so she began fiddling with its small belt. Her greasy fingers made a mess of the job and she soon stained her expensive dress before finally undoing the clasp. Miranda’s belly, which had been flowing around the belt, now surged outwards with ease.

The rest of the night was a blur. Lobster bisque soup and no salad course vanished before her eyes and she could have sworn she saw the Asari waitress eye her stuffed belly mockingly. A thick plate of fried potatoes and steak tips swimming in cheese disappeared as her stomach started aching and then finally, Miranda was back in the limosine with Bados, this time gorging herself on a massive bowl of ice cream drowning in hot fudge, sprinkles and whipped cream.

With a sigh, the spy finished it and idly started sucking on the spoon. At some point her fake drunkenness had turned into real drunkenness, but from the fatty, chemically altered food instead of the beer. If she could have seen her self she would have been shocked, for her face was covered in layers of grease, chocolate, sauce and melting ice cream. Her dress was utterly ruined, dozens of splotches from her careless gorging covering its front, which was badly stretched by her stuffed belly. Not really thinking she leaned against Bados who put his strong hand on her swollen stomach.

‘So Miss Miranda, how do you like the way I treat my girlfriends?’

‘You must spend a lot of money on first dates, if that’s how they all are,’ Miranda said, slowly realizing how much she had eaten. Her stomach hurt, but she calmed herself thinking that she could soon burn it off through exercise and even if she didn’t her supercharged metabolism could handle one heavy meal.

‘Oh, didn’t you realize, that’s how my girlfriends eat every night,’ said Mr. Bados, ‘a woman who appreciates her food is far more appreciative of the one who pays for it, I find. And Miss Miranda, I have to say you must appreciate food more than any girl I’ve ever seen. You have, I should say, extreme potential.’

Miranda was becoming increasingly uneasy at all of this. The man was practically calling her fat, yet treating it as a complement. She thought to say something, but a massive gurgle from her usually flat stomach stopped her.

‘Oh, is your tummy unhappy? Don’t worry you’ll get used to it.’

‘Get used…what do you mean?’

‘Oh I may own half the modeling companies in the system, but I do like my women with a little meat on their bones,’ said Bados.

‘…meat?’

‘Fat to be more precise, the fatter the better. But only if they start out thin, fit and with an angelic face. There’s no use taking on a fat girl who doesn’t know how to take care of herself. Bringing in a model and making her fat, now there’s the way to get a perfect woman.’

Miranda’s heart felt like it was going to explode, and not just from the unaccustomed grease.

‘So you’re saying… you want me to gain weight?’

‘Oh no, not at all,’ said Bados to Miranda’s relief.

‘I want you to gain a lot of weight.’

[Mantic]

Definitely interested in reading more to this story.

[riptoryx]

Posted by: Mantic

Definitely interested in reading more to this story.

Ditto.  Intrigued.  Also, I just generally appreciate the well-polished prose.  :thumbsup:

[Guest Sulla67]

Thanks guys, I have some more!

Chapter 2: Moving Up

Miranda woke up, shards of sunlight hitting her eyes. Usually she would have been up and either researching or exercising for hours by this point but she had uncharacteristically slept in. For a  moment she blinked, going over the events of last night and believing them to be some sort of macabre nightmare until she saw her cocktail dress from the night before laying in a small heap on the ground. Gingerly she got out of bed, still slightly hung over, and picked up the garment, holding it up at arms length by her finger tips incase the patina of stains on it were to somehow infect her.

‘Not a nightmare then…’ she murmured, ‘damn.’

She was back at her own apartment on Breacher’s Hope, Bados having politely driven her back and helped her to the elevator and to her room. The tycoon had laughed off sleeping with her, being stuffed had made Miranda rather horny for some reason, saying it would be improper while she was drunk. The spy had barely been alert enough to wash off her face before stripping off her dress and falling into bed, sleeping in the fetal position with her arms and legs cradling her sore, swollen stomach.

After reporting the situation to her superiors, Miranda began her most of her usual morning routine. She was rather glad that her stomach had gone down to its usual flatness, although it did feel a tad puffy, but she recognized this would have to be temporary. Miranda had never failed on a mission and turning into a total blimp was a small price to pay for getting her hands on a prothean data cache. If other Cerberus agents had died for lesser prizes then Miranda could sacrifice her perfect body, temporarily of course. She was sure she’d slim back down in no time with her iron will power and hyper active metabolism once food was no longer being shoveled down her.

In her shower, Miranda lovingly ran her hands across her fit physique: she played with her large, firm breasts by bouncing them up and down and tweaking her large nipples. She spent time running finger tips along the defined ridges of her abs, birthed by hundreds of situps a day, and repeatedly tapped the bubbly perfection that was her ass, big and round without a hint of cellulite or flab. Finally she rubbed her lean runners legs, perfect for sprinting in combat or distracting a male gaze. At the end she investigated the gap between her thighs, playing with herself for a while as she engaged in a mild fantasy that quickly involved Mr. Bados. She only stopped with a sudden start when she realized that he had started feeding her in the fantasy.

Stepping out of the shower, she put her long, raven hair in a towel and was about to head out to her bedroom when she saw the bathroom scale. Usually it was strictly ceremonial, Miranda having never gained weight in her life, but today she was interested. Gingerly she stepped on it, the digital display blinking for a moment before settling on 119.4 lbs. It was only a pound more than yesterday, and much of it probably came from still digesting food inside her, but to someone who had been exactly 118 lbs since she was 16 it came as a shock.

‘Well… maybe it won’t be that bad,’ the spy said to herself.

….

A few hours later, Miranda was picked up by Mr. Bados’ personal limo, this time bringing several bags of clothing and personal possessions (including her well hidden catsuit and pistol). For her part, Miranda looked the airhead model perfectly, wearing only a see-through, cleavage baring blouse and tiny shorts. It was nearly an hour flight to Bados’ pent house on the other side of the world and Miranda spent half of that starring at a huge collection of gourmet potato chips and shrimp cocktails that were so tantalizing they practically gleamed. Part of her knew she was supposed to gain weight, the other part felt a little guilty for wanting to pig out after what had been the largest meal of her life.

‘If I’m going to get fat, I may as well start acting fat…’ the Cerberus agent mused.

She dove into the chips and shrimp with gusto, somehow becoming hungrier as she devoured them. It was like she hadn’t eaten a huge dinner the night before or the rather large omelet she had cooked herself for breakfast (reasoning that she might as well enjoy it a little). Growing thirsty she found a large cooler of expensive imported beer and soft drinks under one seat. By the time the limo landed, Miranda had downed one beer, two large sodas and the entirety of the shrimp. She wasn’t hungry anymore but was still so enchanted by the tangy taste of the chips that she was still bringing crisp after crisp from the half empty bowl to her mouth.

She was still eating when Mr. Bados opened the Limo’s door, wearing only swim trunks and a tropical shirt.

‘Ah, I see you’re enjoying the car’s hospitality,’ the tycoon observed, noting the almost demolished platter of snacks and the empty bottles.

‘Well, I’m not too sentimental,’ said Miranda with a grin, ‘when someone tells me its time to let go, I really let go.’

‘A woman after my own heart,’ Bados returned offering her one muscular hand, ‘now, why don’t’ I show you the house?’

‘In a moment perhaps,’ the ‘model’ told him, lifting up her blouse to show she had already undone her shorts to make room for more food, ‘these are already half off and I’m finding that over eating gives rise to such interesting feelings in me…’

….

A month later and Miranda was firmly ensconced in Bados’ pent house, although she wasn’t exactly firm anymore. At the moment she was wearing one of Bados’ button up shirts and nothing else, waiting for him to get home with a growing horniness as she munched an order of hush puppies on the couch. The tycoon had proven to be hung like a horse and extremely skilled, which was good as it was the only exercise Miranda was getting anymore.

Long gone were her days of running, aerobics and biotic exercises. Now the brunette femme fatale preferred merely to laze away the hours on the couch or by the private pool, with an ever changing array of treats being brought to her by the tycoon’s robotic staff. This was quite honestly the easiest life imaginable, once Miranda had searched the place for any hint of the data cache’s location. When it had proved absent, she decided it must be in Bados mansion in the rainforest and resolved to wait until he brought her there.

Although the waiting was proving very enjoyable as the spy indulged a hitherto unknown sweet tooth and lazy side, it was proving disastrous for her figure. A soft, even layer of fat was spreading out of her entire body, already making the clothes she had brought with her snug. Her high cheek bones had become indistinct, while she had to wear her customary necklace on a much looser setting about her broader neck. Already large breasts were becoming over whelmed by further growth, threatening to snap her bra whenever she wore one or sagging far more than previous when she ever increasingly went without. Her abs had vanished, giving way to a stomach that while still somewhat flattish was utterly lacking in tone, could be easily pinched and turned into small rolls whenever she bent.

Always big hips were finding a new lease on life as baby love handles popped up above them, the hips themselves quickly adding an inch or two to their girth. Her trim legs were a thing of yesterday, having lost their runners tone after twenty days of utter inactivity and gluttonous indulgence. Once able to run a four minute mile, now they burned going up the short flight of stairs separating kitchen from living room. They were still on the shapely side, but they were much softer and jiggled whenever she walked.

Biggest of all was her ass, Miranda’s muscular donk seemingly going soft overnight. Fat readily clung to her muscular buns, devouring any underwear that wasn’t already a thong. A couple spackles of cellulite were already visible on its downwards slope and the faint lines of stretch marks were ready to make themselves known.

Miranda would have still counted as a normal weighted girl due to starting out so slender, but at 139 she was already on the higher side of normal and going nowhere but up. Her physical condition was also terrible anymore, even her genetically perfect muscles overwhelmed by the weakening compounds hidden in Bados’ chemically altered food. Increasingly lazy, she spent as much time sitting as possible which of course, only further fueled her gain. Unbeknownst to her, her weight and condition would have been even fatter and worse had her metabolism not been struggling mightily. Still, even its hyperactive might could only slow, not stop, her expansion.

Finding that playing the role of adoring lover was just as easy as gaining the rolls that came with it, Miranda sprang up to greet her target as Bados arrived home. Or rather tried to before finding that she was weighed down by herself. It took another second to rock out of her seat, a faint tremor running through her form as she did so, and greet the tycoon. She noted with satisfaction that he hardened instantly when she hugged him.

‘Now deary, that’s not one of your shirts, is it?’

‘Well nothing of mine happens to fit anymore,’ Miranda said, ‘they must have shrunk or something.’

‘Are you sure you didn’t gain weight perhaps?’

‘Me gain weight? With my strenuous exercise program and strict diet? That’s impossible.’

She ripped the shirt open, popping buttons everywhere and exposing herself. Large breasts quivered and sagged slightly, while her stomach bulged both from her day long snacking and the fat that was padding over her abs. Hips bulged outwards and although her thighs didn’t touch, there was a very definite ‘yet’ about that.

‘See, I’m fit as a fiddle?’

Sex lasted a while and Miranda had to lay there recovering for a moment, panting after her orgasm. Sitting up was a chore with so much weight on her torso, a small twinge hitting her lower back as her certainly E cup breasts jostled. The relaxed looking Bados smiled at her and the collection of rolls that appeared below her sagging boobs.

‘I’m gonna need some new bras,’ she said to herself, mentally adding, ‘my god I am out of shape.’

‘You’ll have plenty of time tomorrow, after the shoot.’

‘…shoot?’

‘I meant to tell you but I got interrupted. You see, I like to keep a photo timeline of girlfriend’s weight gain, it really lets you see how much you change.’

‘I suppose my centerfold will be the before?’

‘Of course, we’ll do the same poses and keep you in the same outfits as long as they fit before moving onto larger sizes. I’m very glad you’re so enthusiastic about it, you’re looking better and better the chubbier you get. Its like you were born to be a complete fat ass.’

A month ago, Miranda would have killed him for that and had to swallow down a biotic shockwave. Fortunately, she had had a lot of practice swallowing lately.

‘There’s a fat woman just waiting to get out inside every thin girl they say,’ Miranda said instead, mentally chanting, ‘Oh you will pay for that!’

‘And the one inside you must be very fat indeed. Every other model I’ve had in here chickens out around the twenty pound mark, but you’ve blown through that in record time and only want more. Your ass is already one of the flabbiest butts I’ve seen and you only just started!’

‘Please, I’m blushing,’ Miranda said, trying incredibly hard not to kill him.

‘Its like you’re one of those obese girls from the 20th century, before they had the low fat food revolution and the nanites.’

‘Wait… why aren’t those working?’

‘oh its just a little something I had the boys in my dietary research division cook up that blocks nanite response. It was originally for use in live stock, it’s a food additive that makes fat easier to gain and far harder to lose.’

‘Oh… great,’ Miranda responded, fuming massively on the inside.

‘Oh yes, the first girl I tried it on is still trying to lose those last twenty pounds and just quit. Had to go to med school when her modeling career dried up, still rather pudgy if I remember. Or my secretary I’m sure you’ve met her, we stopped dating years ago and she’s been dieting ever since, barely lost a pound.’

‘Well, hurray for me,’ Miranda said, barely able to keep a note of false happiness in her voice. She might have liked being a lazy bum and eating like a pig, but tales of how hard this fat would be to lose filled her with horror.

‘You’re gonna go all the way though I think,’ Bados continued, oblivious to her growing shock, ‘once you hit the big 250 I’ll have a statue made of you, solid gold!, and put it in the vault.’

‘I’m sorry, vault?’ Miranda said, quickly abandoning a plan where she just started torturing Bados for info right then and there.

‘Oh yes, back at the mansion. We’ll head there in a month or two once my business in the city is complete. You’ll love it, nothing to do but eat and lounge. If you think you put on weight here easy, just wait until you’re there!’

‘Yay…’ Miranda said, one hand feeling her flabby tummy under the sheets.

‘I hate this mission, I hate this mission, I hate this mission,’ repeated over and over again in her mind, before it was interrupted by a growl and a hungry pain in her stomach.

‘Could you order me up some ice cream dear?’ the spy said, not noting the intrinsic double think of being disgusted with her weight gain and still being hungry, ‘I’m feeling a bit peckish.’

[riptoryx]

Wow, excellent!  I love the details, and where you're taking this.  You've certain set up a bit of fourth-wall suspense with exactly how this works out as a prequel.  ???

http://fav.me/d45bnwd

[Guest Sulla67]

How she gets back in shape before ME 2 will be in the epilogue.

Chapter III: Shoots, Fittings, Swimming

Miranda found the photo shoot to be humiliating.

She’d never before felt a hint of shame or body modesty, although this had been easy with genetics cobbled together from a select group of bikini pinups, fashion models and athletes. While a month earlier wearing a skin tight catsuit to work or posing on a beach in a miniscule bikini had been nothing, now it suddenly felt like a herculean task. She realized that she wasn’t huge, yet sadly, but that an extra twenty pounds, and a massive food baby from the breakfast buffet that morning, had already radically changed her once flawless looks.

The beach was fortunately private and featured her as the sole model, which came as a relief as Miranda would have been mortified to see the slim women of Breacher’s Hope’s normal populace, let alone the fit perfection of its models. Still, she was practically taunted by several holographic displays set up to help the photographs recreate her poses from last month. The sight of the perfect abs she’d had thirty days earlier sent a quiver of shame through her soft starter belly, one that turned into another grumble of hunger.

Getting into her bikini from the last shoot was fortunately not too difficult, she’d gotten softer more than she had gotten wider and the tiny bottoms tied on the sides anyway to allow for some relay. However, her ass had gotten more than a tad larger and the cheeky back of the bottoms was practically swamped by flows of soft ass. The top turned out to be much harder, her larger breasts threatening to pop out of her top, slip out from beneath it, wiggle out to the sides or just plain snap them. The Cerberus operative seemed to spend the whole time keeping her tits inside it, constantly tugging the swollen mammary glands or the taut fabric and causing no end of bouncing.

Her only other garment of clothing was a tiny pair of cut off shorts, which even in her slimmer state had shown nearly as much cheek as her bikini did. Amazingly it still fit, although Miranda had to suck in her stomach to button it, something she had only ever read about before. However, her now much softer midsection muffin topped out over its rim, just like her thighs mushroomed around the tight leg holes and her saggy butt drooped out of its rear.

Far worse than the clothing was the comments from the small crew of professional photographers. Evidently they had done this for Mr. Bados before, for they were not at all shocked to see the formerly fit Miranda showing up soft and puffy. But, the shoot’s Turian director didn’t help Miranda’s ego with commands like, ‘stick that gut out further!’ or ‘arch your back more, so your butt hangs out more!’. What was worse were the orders to the photographers such as, ‘focus on how her belly is hanging on the all-fours shots’ and ‘make sure there’s plenty of underboob.’

By noon, Miranda was extremely grateful the shoot was done and found herself growing remarkably hungry, her soft belly rumbling constantly during the last minutes of the photography. Slipping into the only pair of pants that still fit her, although they gave her a massive case of camel toe, and a rather tight t-shirt that pinched her arms and left a two inch gap of soft flesh between stomach and pants, the spy got into her own car for once. Hitting a fast food place she demolished large combo of burger and fries in minutes, noting with some satisfaction that she had at least not spilled anything this time. However, her stomach had grown used to gigantic banquets and constant snacking, meaning that the large burger and order of curly fries was just enough to take the edge off her appetite. But, her large chocolate shake was good enough she ordered a second for the road and headed out for her car.

Bados had purchased her a low slung sports car with an extremely comfortable seat, however it was also very low laying. Upon dipping down to sit inside it, the stuffed spy felt a sharp pain in her lower belly. Standing straighter and investigating the source, she realized that her paunch, swollen by fat and food, was being driven directly into metal button of her pants when she tried to bend down.

‘This is only something fat slobs do,’ she murmured to herself as her hand paused on the button.

‘Screw it, if being a fat slob is the price of that cache then I’ll be a slob.’

The button, stretched tight as it was, came off easily and an immediate sense of relief flowed through her as her stomach surged out through the unbuttoned garment. She unzipped it as well and sat contently sipping her shake as the sports car’s VI raced down the skyway to the shopping district. At some point her hand started idly playing with her exposed belly, pinching, jiggling and searching. She only stopped when she realized that it was somehow turning her on.

‘I’m never eating again once this is over,’ she muttered, immediately taking another slurp of shake.

There were few parking spaces at the mall, meaning Miranda had to walk over a quarter mile. Having been in stupendous shape her entire life it came as a shock how long it seemed to be now that her muscles had grown rather mushy, made worse by the extreme tightness of her pants, the tropical heat of the planet and the huge amount of dairy product sloshing around in her stomach. Upon entering the mall’s air conditioned doors she had to sit on a bench and catch her breath, before rehydrating with an extra-large bottle of high sugar, super caffeinated soda.

Walking into her favorite chain lingerie store only seemed to make it worse. The ultra fit human and Asari models pictured on the walls seemed to be mocking her, as did the skinny mannequins and the svelte Asari maiden working the register who was going through a gigantic bag of candies with no apparent ill effects on her tiny figure. It took her a while to find more panties, as a combination of nanite metabolic supplements kept most women around a size four and Miranda was easily an eight anymore. Thankfully the E cup bras she needed were easily found in many quantities, the accumulation of breast fat something that most nanite programs allowed and even selected for. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a single pair of pants she could get past her butt or even a t-shirt that could met her pants.

‘Do you have any larger sized pants hidden in the back?’ Miranda was forced to ask the cashere.

‘Nope, nothing larger than size six,’ the eighty year old Asari teenager said between chocolate pieces, ‘when are you do by the way.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘You are showing quite a bit,’ the clerk said, gently leaning over and tapping Miranda’s swollen paunch, which was momentarily rather firm due to all the food in it and did indeed resemble a baby bump, ‘don’t be ashamed, we get a lot of women in her during the second trimester determined they can still fit into their old sizes.’

‘Yeah…’ said Miranda, hand on her stomach, hypnotized as the blue alien girl brought candy piece after candy piece to her lips, ‘well I, have put on a few lately…’

‘Don’t be ashamed, it’s not as if you were trying to get fat. After all, you’d have to be a real lazy heifer to let yourself get to your size without having a baby in you, with how hard it is to gain weight.’

‘You’d have to stuff yourself silly,’ Miranda agreed with false cheerfulness, fighting down a gigantic urge to feed the alien bitch her teeth. The Asari didn’t read any of her anger though and just kept munching and talking.

‘I mean, imagine being fat enough that people might think you were pregnant! That’s hilarious, I can’t even imagine how humiliating that would be.’

‘Me either, I’m really glad I have an excuse,’ Miranda said, one hand cradling her tummy while she looked at the alien’s candy bag. Something about it was familiar.

‘Anyway, there’s a maternity store about three shops down,’ the Asari said, licking chocolate off her lips, ‘it’s the only one that has mannequins with bellies.’

‘Thanks, before I go, what company makes those candies?’

‘Uhhh, Bados industries I think,’ the alien told her, looking at the half empty bag for a moment.

‘Are they any good?’ Miranda asked, recognizing that she had eaten about five of those large candy bags in the past month.

‘Oh their delicious. I got my first bag given to me on a date two days ago and I just couldn’t stop eating them. Good thing for those nanites though, otherwise I’d have to shop in the same places as you now.’

‘Yeah, you can always depend on those,’ said Miranda with a  wry grin. At least she had something to look forwards too next month. Misery does after all love company.

….

The next thirty days passed with aching slowness.

Having worked a fifty, sometimes sixty hour week filled with frantic activity of both the mental and physical sort ill-prepared Miranda for days of idling around a luxury apartment doing nothing but eating. She forced herself to be more actively inactive: getting her hair restyled every week, and going out for lunch rather than sitting around in her underwear eating chips. Given a massive credit slip by Bados inabled her to buy about anything on the planet, however she was unable to fill her days with shopping as she might have wished. If size eight skirts were hard to find, size tens were utterly impossible. Frustratingly, the once fit operative kept having to buy from maternity stores, at one point being asked if she was carrying twins due to her rapid growth, until she realized some of the nicer tailors would take custom orders.

Although the planet’s tailors had probably never made a pair of size ten skinny pants, a size twelve suit or a size fourteen dress before Miranda’s order, they did a commendable job. Miranda at last had decent clothes again, if ones that almost always showed off how chubby she was. Bados had praised her ability to dress when she was thinner, particularly how she showed off her breasts, stomach and legs. Given that he was behind the never stopping expansion of those body parts, Miranda ignored dignity and kept ordering belly shirts, short skirts and skin tight dresses even as the numbers on the scale climbed daily.

However, not even having to get her growing bulk measured weekly was enough to fill up Miranda’s ample time. Most days, like this day towards the end of her second month of gaining, saw her sitting around on the couch wearing very little clothing and stuffing her face.

Waking up at nine, Miranda had taken a few minutes to haul her fat butt out of bed and into the shower. Washing off her expanding form too a little more time and it wasn’t until a half hour later that she had to push her now F cup breasts out of the way to see the numbers on the scale more easily and was both happy and disappointed when it hit 170. Happy because she only had to gain less than a hundred more pounds, frustrated because she had gained another ten lbs more than last month. The reason for this was because of the continuing decay of her once formidable lean muscles, which had burned quite a bit of fat just by existing. Now that her athletic sinews had atrophied away, Miranda’s metabolism had slowed down to far more normal levels.

If she had spent the rest of the day exercising and skipped out on the fattening food, Miranda would have been fitting back into her old things in only a few months, as luckily for her, her body would always think of itself as exactly 118 lbs and relentlessly burn off any extra weight. However, her utter physical inactivity combined with now rather extraordinary gluttony and the fattening, nanite and metabolism deadening food she was being plied with ensured she did nothing but grow.

Leaving the shower, Miranda found a pair of black, cheeky size twelve panties that slid grudgingly up her rather thick legs, her calves slowly turning to cankles as the tops of her thighs now almost constantly touched. It was getting rather hard to pull them over her huge rump, her once perky bubble butt having grown wide and saggy, its formly firm muscles and flawless skin now having the consistency of cookie dough and the look of cottage cheese. A toneless paunch hung over the rim of her panties, just as her very wide, soft hips stretched out their sides. In all, the panties were being spread rather thin by the demands of her thickening body.

‘At least the damn lingerie store is carrying my size now,’ she murmured as she noted a hole had formed in the side of the panties, ‘I’m going to need new ones of these.’

Bados’ company had indeed bought out the local lingerie franchises less than a week ago, having them add clothes up to size fourteen. A lot of the local women were finding that their previously easily kept physiques were softening rapidly and the suddenly chubby girls were demanding negligee of an appropriate size. Bados had easily anticipated the demand, no struggle at all given that his food companies were fueling it with their addictive sweets. Miranda had not smugly last week that the Asari cashiere was noticeably thickening, a soft line of blue flesh now visible between shirt and pants as the alien’s muffin top grew in.

Deciding to forgo a shirt out of comfort, even in air conditioning Miranda found she sweated quite a bit more easily with an extra fifty pounds of insulation, she did at least strap on a bra. A 38F push up, it cradled her increasingly heavy tits upwards and formed a gigantic amount of cleavage. Before all of this Miranda could have gotten away with not wearing a bra despite an already large size to the perkiness given by her fit body, but now her over large tits were soft as warm butter and drooped readily, putting a great deal of strain on her back if unsupported.

Putting on makeup, she noted that her previously barely touched face had really started to change. Her cheeks had chipmunked out, growing round and puffy as they obscured her high cheek bones. Fat covered her sharp chin, giving her a jowly double. At the very least, she no longer had to worry about being recognized anymore.

Plopping down onto the couch, breathing just a little heavily from walking down the ten stairs between bedroom and living room, Miranda felt her belly gurgle. Once flat, narrow and muscular, her paunch now sprawled across her thick thighs whenever she sat. Round and soft, it took pants with a waistline of 34 inches to contain her stomach and the flabby pair of lovehandles she boasted on her sides. Early her breasts and ass had taken the brunt of the weight gain, but a good deal of this month’s expansion had settled on her belly as her breasts had slowed down their increase. Her food capacity stretched out by endless meals, mirrored by the silvery stretch marks on her belly, Miranda was now almost always hungry.

After a large breakfast of sausage, bacon, ham, pancakes and French toast, even the meat drowning in syrup, Miranda felt incredibly tired. For nearly an hour she dozed on the couch in the midst of a food coma, only waking up with a jerk when the vacuum robot went by her. It wasn’t enough to get her up fully, the immense weight on her torso holding her down easily, but she did at least wake up and jerk slightly.

‘SNAP!’ went the overstrained set of panties, breaking along the side and letting, well she wasn’t sure if it was ass, hip or lovehandle, surge out.

‘Damn it, not again,’ the spy muttered, pushing herself up with both hands. This was also a requirement anymore, another source of frustration

Feeling that she should at least try and move a little, Miranda walked back up the stairs, made even more uncomfortable by the snug rubbing of her thighs. She selected a black, one piece swimsuit that had seemed large when she bought it, but now looked tiny. A size 10 that had been remarkably hard to find a month ago, it was extremely low cut and featured an ab window, almost no back and a thong bottom with a front piece that was barely wider. Evidently it had been made with a rather robust, but muscular girl in mind, something rather far from Miranda’s current state.

It honestly fit terribly. Her huge breasts pushed down massively on the flimsy top, while her fat paunch bulged unseemly through the ab window, just like her love handles surged out the sides. Its spaghetti straps vanished into her soft shoulders and fat back, while Miranda’s now mammoth but swallowed the thong. The lard on her low abdomen surged up around the front and if she had been on a public beach Miranda would have been arrested for indecent exposure.

‘Ugh I am such a porker,’ the once trim spy muttered, repeating the mantra in her head of, ‘Its all worth it, its all worth it, its all worth it’ again and again.

Opening the door to roof top pool, sweat immediately started to bead on Miranda’s face and body as the tropical heat and humidity gripped her over-insulated figure. Slowly walking down to the pool, she found that each step threatened to snap the flimsy swimsuit due to the immense jiggling in her unsupported breasts and belly. Taking it even more slowly, she still heard a few seams pop but the suit did hold together.

Miranda had been a champion diver and swimmer at the private, exclusive high school her manipulative father had put her in before she ran away, her lean figure and graceful limbs allowing her to easily jump and angle herself. Now she slid into water of the deep end with the grace and aplomb of a beached whale returning to the sea, shooting up a gout of water.

Made extremely buoyant by her adipose, Miranda still had difficulty swimming due to the immense drag put out by her boobs and gut. After five or so she had to stop and catch her breath for a few minutes, sitting/floating on the concrete steps of the relatively shallow pool. Floating proved to be extremely relaxing, gravity for once not hauling on her stomach and breasts and the few minute wait turned into the rest of the day. Proud that she had at least exercised a little for the first time in two months, she ordered herself a snack from the drone butler. Which turned into several other snacks and a few martini’s over the rest of the afternoon. Whatever miniscule amount of calories her five laps had burned were made up within the first hour, the rest of the snacking just made her already snug swimsuit tighter.

By the time Bados got home at five, he found an extremely tipsy former centerfold dripping on his couch. Miranda’s left hand were still shoveling chips into her mouth, while her right was constantly tugging at the over strained fabric around her belly.

‘Bados!’ she giggled as she tried to get up, several stitches popped but the swimsuit miraculously held on, ‘I started working out again. Does it show?’

Heavy fat and an uncoordinated mind made getting up difficult, but she eventually managed it. Although with how quickly she was on her back again she need not have bothered. Soon Miranda was drifting to sleep again, barely hearing Bados speaking to her.

‘I got finished with my takeover of the city’s gym chains today. Tomorrow we’ll be going out to the mansion. You should find gaining, much, much easier there.’

[Guest Dan Lawson]

Will there be more

[bigboy1992]

See as this was written by a now inactive account 7 years ago.........no

[shammyboy]

https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/action/show_chapters/user_id/sulla76

 

This is the author's writing. com account and he has done a lot of Mass Effect chapters there.

[Batman76]

14 hours ago, shammyboy said:

https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/action/show_chapters/user_id/sulla76

 

This is the author's writing. com account and he has done a lot of Mass Effect chapters there.

Yeah this is me.

I've done a lot of stuff with this character there. I think I've gotten better since ...7 years ago...fuck I'm old.

[bigboy1992]

45 minutes ago, Batman76 said:

Yeah this is me.

I've done a lot of stuff with this character there. I think I've gotten better since ...7 years ago...fuck I'm old.

Ever think about coming up with a new story for this character. Sci-fi stories tend to be pretty interesting. Also mass effect is awesome and a lot of the old WG stories I found for mass effect have been taken down.

[Guest Stan25]

On 3/3/2020 at 9:43 PM, Batman76 said:

Yeah this is me.

I've done a lot of stuff with this character there. I think I've gotten better since ...7 years ago...fuck I'm old.

Could you please finish it. Miranda wg is always my favorite

[riptoryx]

@bigboy1992 and @Stan25, I share your enthusiasm for Miranda and this general premise. If @Batman76's related work over at Writing.com still isn't enough to scratch the itch, stay tuned. I've been working on a little project of my own that's in the same ballpark as this story.

[Batman76]

44 minutes ago, Stan25 said:

Could you please finish it. Miranda wg is always my favorite

No promises but I had some plans change tonight...

[riptoryx]

6 minutes ago, Batman76 said:

No promises but I had some plans change tonight...

Dun dun dunnn...! Exciting!

[Batman76]

And now, after 7 years of hiatus, 8 years after Miranda's last appearance and 3 years after the last mass effect game, I continue this. I skipped several chapters of "Oh Miranda's butt is too big for her pants, people laugh at her at the mall" to skip to what I remembered of my plan for the climax. There is an epilogue coming sometime in the near future:

 

Miranda yawned, barely even noticing the bunching of chins under her once sharp jawline.

The spy's blue eyes swept across the luxurious living room, sweeping past entertainment stations, modern art work, robotic servants ready to attend her slightest whim, overcomfortable furniture and more food than someone her size should be around. Apart from the food and robots it was innocuous, hardly threatening at all, but this place was the site of Miranda's defeat and rebirth. A crucible, in which the ore of a fit, dazzling, energetic and intelligent spy had been melted down and forged into what she now was:

Obese.

Dull.

Lazy.

Disoriented.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Miranda insisted to herself that she'd been drugged. It was the only way to explain her complete bodily torpor and utterly languid thoughts. Surely she, a genetically perfect genius hadn't naturally let herself decline into such an obese dullard, had she? This couldn't be her fault that after the better part of a year spent as Bados' private concubine she'd grown unrecognizably huge, right?

The old Miranda, the smart and intelligent and attractive spy mistress, surely wouldn't have reacted to a pair of size eighteen grey sweat pants being the only garment capable of fitting onto her sausage legs by plopping on the couch and eating four bags of greasy potato chips and two boxes of chocolate, right? Just like old Miranda would surely go apocalyptic at finding bright stretchmarks forming across increasingly pendulous breasts and not have an extra milkshake at second brunch, right? Or how the old Miranda would be completely furious at finding a black size XXL "Got Milk?" t-shirt was still far too small to get over her belly button, letting her sizable belly spill outwards into her lap in humiliating fashion, surely?

"I have to be drugged," the obese spy moaned, tossing yet another chocolate into her mouth with a flick of her wrist, the only talent the now massive brunette had, "surely this isn't a result of my own behavior..."

She felt that she should really search the house for more evidence against Bados, who was probably hiding....something. Miranda could barely remember what she'd been sent to investigate. Protheans? Something like that...

Instead the brunette snuggled up on the couch, tugging her sweat pants down to let her always pampered yet somehow never full gut have more room. The comforting babble of the television combined with her full state arrested her attention. Colorful lights and an attractive, if rather plump hostess, drew her into a day time TV show. More chocolates, chips, pop corn dripping with butter, some slabs of bacon, half a cheese cake and a small order of hot wings went down her gullet, Miranda slowly drifting off into a nap. That was easy, the spy's sleep hygene had become as bad as her blood pressure, her gigantic boobs pressing onto her chest were giving her sleep apnea and her always full belly was usually gurgling with upset from her terrible diet. All day long, the once cunning spy felt groggy, tired and very suggestible...

"Miranda darling, its time to get up," Bados' voice cut through her half asleep brain.

"Mmmmm....," Miranda groaned, blinking her eyes and snuggling deeper into the couch.

She was so tired and this couch, and anything else due to how much padding the obese spy had on her body, was so comfy...

"*Sigh* Really Miranda, its time. I've got to show you off to some business partners, come," Bados insisted, prodding her hard in her sensitive stomach, finger pressing deep into her belly button and thumb pinching the down slope of her flab, viciously pinching the dome of lard.

That got the brunette moving. She popped up with a jolt, drooping belly smacking into her thighs and muscles complaining at sudden motion. The former modelesque woman gave a faint groan, rubbing sleep from her reddened eyes.

"Ugh...can it please wait? I'm so groggy today and...ugh, I'm hungry. Is it dinner time yet?" Miranda whined, rubbing the red mark on her she'd been pinched, her beefy arms pinching the sleeves of her over tight shirt.

"No, not yet piglet. Its only two in the afternoon, but come. Lets show you off to my business partners as proof of their investment," the hulking CEO said, using his considerable strength to haul the porky Miranda to her pudgy feet and then deliver a massive, smarting smack to Lawson's massive ass.

The spy's taut buns had exploded in size, inflating past the fifty inch mark. Striated with stretch marks and cratered with cellulite, the mammoth cheeks had started merging with her corpulent thighs. It jiggled and wobbled while Miranda gasped, her self esteem too low and dependence too high to stand up for herself against the spank.

Besides, she had bigger things to worry about. On standing, gravity's pull on the corpulent ex-model was well displayed. Miranda's gut hung over her the front of her pants in a tide of marshmallow fluff. Her once high breasts plunged downwards, the nipples clearly pointing downwards after her massive expansion into the I cup range and pulling painfully on her shoulders, her near constant back pain kicking in. The thick triple chin the star athlete had developed jiggled and swung with each waddling step, her sausage thighs having to kick against the flap of her belly.

"Do they have to see me like this...," the lazy woman complained, flexing her constantly sore shoulders against the pull of her tits, "I'm so fat, I'm embarra...embarrassed..."

"Oh they have to see you, they've been watching your progress with great interest, Miss Lawson," Bados grinned, "seeing the fittest, leanest, sharpest woman in human space puffing up into a lazy, dull doughball, more than doubling in size in a few months...the Collectors are going to be thrilled to see you've hit the 250lb mark."

250lbs...more than twice Miranda's old weight...she looked down at the pale, sweating bulk of herself, so different from the lithe woman she'd been before her brain reminded her to talk.

"Collectors?" Lawson asked, fuzzy mind dimly recalling a race of strange, dangerous aliens who haunted the outer reaches of the galaxy, "I...that's familiar and...Lawson?"

He'd used her real name, the name Miranda hadn't given him. The fat girl's heart rate, fairly high anymore due to her elevated cholesterol, began to pound as she dimly recalled that she wasn't just a model who'd eaten herself into obesity but a Cerberus agent on a deep cover mission. She froze in the middle of the living room, looking at the muscular Bados and realizing just how much bigger he was than her...

"Why yes, your real name. It took a while to discover it, for a while I thought you really were just the perfect woman," Bados said with a sigh, "Unfortunately you started talking in your sleep once the drugs and nanites in the chocolates finally got rid of all your self restraint. Imagine my disappointment that you were a spy for Cerberus, although I barely got any information from it...but the pleasure of turning one of the Illusive Man's top agents into a lardass, well that made up for it."

The brunette snarled in anger, fists clenching. She thought of her gun...hidden well upstairs, if it was even there. All she had left was her body and...something else, it was so hard to think...

"Please Miranda, what are you going to do? Try and fight me? You haven't walked more than five hundred steps a day in three months," Bados laughed, "your heart rate spikes just looking at the stairs and you've got the muscular strength, balance and reaction time of a 95 year old. The drugs mean you're basically buzzed even when you aren't day drinking. Face it, you're helpless..."

Miranda's grimace grew deeper, "And you've forgotten I've still got three black belts..."

The spy dropped into a combat stance, leg muscles instantly complaining at the unusual posture. Bados just stared at her with a raised eyebrow, struggling not to laugh. Seconds stretched on, Lawson's legs sliding on the hardwood. Her atrophied muscles were beginning to cramp up and the tight pants were biting into her plentiful flab, especially around her ass...

*RIP*

"Are you done, Miss Lawson?" Bados chuckled as her Miranda felt air conditioned air strike her immense butt crack, "because we've got company waiting in my office."

"Fuck you, asshole!" Miranda snarled, bounding forwards and punching.

Unfortunately, Lawson's long legs had lost all of their muscle. Her steps were halting and her form godawful, even forgetting to rotate her hand or put her thumb besides her fingers. She hit Bados' muscular stomach all right and did nothing more than sprain her own wrist against his abdominal.

"Fuck!" Miranda sobbed, falling to her knees with a further rip of her pants and cradling her wrist.

"Come now my little piglet, forget dreams of being fierce. You've let the real you come out in this, fat and lazy, useful only for eating good food and giving good sex," the villainous man smiled, hauling the fat woman to her feet and dragging her through the house.

Miranda couldn't give much resistance in her weakened state, but soon found herself before Bados' vault. The one room in the vast mansion she'd never been able to gain entry too, even before her work ethic had collapsed along with the ability to focus.

"I'd...kept trying to get in here," the dazzed spy groaned as Bados rapidly keyed in the code.

"Of course you did, but that was before the chocolates gave you ADD and made you too lazy to even think about it," Bados explained as the immense door slid open,  pulling her through not into a vault, but an elevator, "it would go away if you could wean you off the chocolates for a month or so but there's little chance of that with you being up to two bags a day."

The spy smiled at the thought of the delicious chocolates...before glaring at him as she realized the impact of the words, "You've...the chocolates gave me ADD?"

"Oh yes, you adapted quite well to it by just laying there all day and channel surfing. Most subjects have that and memory problems too, your laziness is all on you though. I have to say that as an actress pretending to want to get fat you did a spectacular job," the CEO grinned, pushing the button for the basement.

Down the shaft the elevator went, Miranda scrambling for some sort of plan. She was unarmed and out muscled, humiliated and doomed. What could she do, call the colony's police? And tell them what, she was a member of a terrorist organization being fattened up against her will? Surely there had to be something she could do, something she was overlooking and had forgotten thanks to this confusion...

When the doors dinged open, Miranda found herself inside a vast underground cavern leading to a lightless oceanic pool. Over the salt spray a small ship floated, a light corvette made out of some strange bio-technological mix. Several aliens waited on a platform at the end of a walkway, large humanoids that were covered with thick, chitinous plates. Miranda felt fear eminating off them, her terror rising as she kept failing to remember something.

"You have brought the example?" one of the aliens, a collector she realized, rasped, its words making her ears scream, "Of the biomass drug?"

Biomass...something was important there. What?

"Yes, a prime example of what your formula does to humans. This one has doubled in size in less than a year, once she would have been at the forefront of any resistance but now her ability to fight back is negligible. She's witless and willess, observe," Bados said, turning towards the hunched spy, "Miranda, please disrobe."

"I...don't want...," she shivered, totally terrified woman gasped, only for the hulking man to squeeze her shoulder.

Whimpering, she obeyed, sliding down her pants to reveal corpulent thighs and swollen cankles. Already shivering from the cold, Miranda hauled her shirt off with difficulty, the seams of the thin fabric ripping and her immense tits flopping out and threatening to put her back out. Humiliated, the vain woman covered her breasts, trying to support the heavy jugs with her arms.

"As you can see, her muscle mass has massively declined. Her physical fitness and self restraint are gone and so is her ability to engage in long term planning or focusing on a task," Bados explained, "she is more like a farm animal than a person."

The alien hissed and chittered to itself, "Good. And the rest of the planet?"

"A 30% increase in bioimass during the same time. She's very susceptible to weight gain and I ensured she had ample access to food during her time here," Bados said with a grin.

Biomass. There it was again. Bio. Mass. Biology...Biome...biosphere...Mass...Massive...Mass...It was so important and the dazed, confused woman almost had it...

"Good. Continue, push the drug through human space," the alien hissed, "We will take her."

Go with these aliens? Being stuck in this fat trap was bad enough but the aliens terrified the brunette to her fat hidden core!

"No, that was not part of the deal. I was told I would get to pick some survivors to serve me after your plan went through and I've decided on her," Bados insisted, putting a hand on Miranda's shoulder, "she is...aesthetically pleasing."

The aliens hissed and clicked again before speaking, "No. We need more biological mass to collect. And she is an ample target: fat, unresistant, with great biotic potential. Her effect on the genetic mix is useful..."

Biological. Mass. Biotic. Effect.

Miranda looked at Bados, who shrugged, like he was losing a hand of cards and not a human being he'd been having sex with for months, "If you say so. Very well, there will be other pigs to fatten up before you begin your attack. Farewell Miranda, I hope it isn't too painful."

Time seemed to slow down as an old emotion filled Miranda's cavernous belly. For months she'd felt shame, guilt and unease, eating and eating until she could do not but eat. But her hazy thoughts were crystal clear now, sharpened by absolute rage. 

Aliens had fattened her up like a farm animal for some horrible purpose. She'd been sold like an object after being humiliated. But they'd inadvertantly reminded her of something...

"Bados," she said, standing tall as she could without wincing, "one last thing before I go, one question. When I talked in my sleep..."

"Yes?" The CEO smiled, surprised at the clarity of her words

"Did I ever say I was one of the most powerful human biotics ever?" Miranda grinned, her hair beginning to elevate.

She reached out a hand, the pudgy digits surrounded with hazy force and focused. Bados' pattent leather boots left the ground, his eyes widening as Miranda hurled him into the pack of aliens. His big frame knocked several of them to the ground, Miranda raising a barrier of force between herself and the surprised aliens bullets.

More than thirty five years earlier, Miranda's father had decided to gift his genetic experiment of a daughter a powerful ability, the tube grown fetus being exposed to raw element zero. The woman might be disarmed, might be overweight and might have an elevated blood pressure, but she could project immensely powerful bio-electric fields strong enough to crush tank armor.

"Because it turns out I am, even if I'd gotten so dazed to forget it," the no longer buzzed woman ranted, ripping open a micro-singularity vortex around three of the aliens that sucked them into each other, bones breaking and flesh twisting, "and do you know why I had such a good appetite when we met? Do you know, Bados!?"

A clench of Miranda's fist burst an alien skull into fragments. A flick of her wrist sent one flying a hundred feet straight up, bursting against the cavern's ceiling. A snap of her fingers slammed one Collector so hard into the ground it exploded. The small alien starship's engines flared to life, heavy guns drawing a bead on Miranda.

Bados, cursing, made his way to his feet, trying to draw a small pistol and charge his suddenly dangerous experiment. Miranda wrapped another field around his throat, pulling him in front of her while raising a massive barrier in front of her self. Heavy shells flashed towards her from the Collector shuttle, the explosive rounds blasting harmlessly off of her shields.

"It's because, you stupid fuck," she hissed at the ** man, blood trickling down her nose, "biotics need to burn calories to use their abilities. And you gave me a hundred fucking pounds of pure fat to burn and fucking perfect motivation to use it! And the funniest thing? The sex and stuffing was good enough I'd have let you live if you hadn't tried to sell me into alien slavery and then called me a pig!!!"

A wild swing of her arm sent Bados shooting across the cavern, sonic booms trailing in his wake. He hit the front of the starship faster than a shot from a frigate's rail cannon, popping its shields in a welter of blood. Miranda clenched a fist around the collector ship, shattering armor, guns and engines, then let it fall to the ground a smoking, burning ruin.

For a moment, she could do nothing but breathe. Miranda was light headed and exhausted, her blood sugar dangerously low despite the ample fuel layered over her belly and ass. Groaning, she stumbled towards the elevator, fumbling fingers triggering it to go to the main floor, before collapsing naked on the floor. Wheezing, covered in cold sweat, her head pounding, Miranda trembled and tried to stay awake.

"Stupid fucker, trying to work with aliens," the fat woman groaned, "and making me fat..."

Mentally clear after the burst of rage, Lawson looked down in true disgust at her blimped out body. Her destructive tantrum might have burned a couple pounds, but using so much biotic power had almost given her an internal hemorrhage and she was at risk of passing out into a coma from low blood sugar and total exhaustion.

"God I'm the size of a damn dairy cow. These tits are about to break my back and my ass needs its own zip code," the spy moaned bitterly, "fuck this is going to take forever to lose, why'd I let this happen to myself? I'm supposed to be perfect but I just kept eating...God I'm never going to eat again..."

The elevator doors dinged open and Miranda stumbled from the doors on hands and knees, breasts and belly flopping. She barely made it down the hall until she smelled something truly delicious: melted cheese, spiced tomato sauce, succulent meat, crisp vegetables, spicy peppers and just right crust. An extra large, everything pizza, thick crust pizza that she'd asked the house's robotic staff to cook.

"After this pizza," Miranda promised herself...

[riptoryx]

Fun! And, as always, I appreciate your attention to various details of canon lore.

Will the "complete" version wind up on DeviantArt?

[Batman76]

2 minutes ago, riptoryx said:

Fun! And, as always, I appreciate your attention to various details of canon lore.

Will the "complete" version wind up on DeviantArt?

Yes, but the editing n terms of that awful website will slow me down

[riptoryx]

Hm. Maybe save the formatted text in Word (or whatever) as a .pdf and upload that directly? One thing the "Eclipse" version of DeviantArt does seem to handle a little bit better than the old version is display compatibility with .pdf text documents.

[>_< 0_0]

4 hours ago, Batman76 said:

Yes, but the editing n terms of that awful website will slow me down

My trick is I write in Word and paste it all in. Remember to add the scene spaces in! They disappear for some reason.

[bigboy1992]

@Batman76 that was awesome. What is your opinion on slow burn weight gain stories? I like them because they give the author a chance to expand their characters, add lore and add more shenanigans.

[Batman76]

1 hour ago, bigboy1992 said:

@Batman76 that was awesome. What is your opinion on slow burn weight gain stories? I like them because they give the author a chance to expand their characters, add lore and add more shenanigans.

I love slow burn, the slow build up from lean, fit and fatless, to fit but eats, to skinny fat to thick, to a little chubby, are some of my favorite steps. but I'm also impatient on writing them, I get eager and jump around, especially when I'm doing a story with a ton of characters like my DC one currently. I think other people like say, >_<0_0 or Flyer33, are better at sticking to slow burns.

[>_< 0_0]

1 hour ago, Batman76 said:

I love slow burn, the slow build up from lean, fit and fatless, to fit but eats, to skinny fat to thick, to a little chubby, are some of my favorite steps. but I'm also impatient on writing them, I get eager and jump around, especially when I'm doing a story with a ton of characters like my DC one currently. I think other people like say, >_<0_0 or Flyer33, are better at sticking to slow burns.

Every time I think I’m doing a quick story, it turns into a slow burn 😑

[Batman76]

 

Epilogue 1/2, The New Mission

6 months Later...

Miranda Lawson stood in her usual spot in the Illusive Man's office, a fiery star burning behind the Cerberus mastermind.

She was in a catsuit in her usual style, white with black highlights to compliment her pale skin and raven hair.

The agent was being debriefed like normal and prepared for another mission like normal.

It was almost as if she'd never been on that horribly fattening fiasco of a mission...

...save for 110lbs of fat still stuck to her frame.

"Agent Lawson, I'm happy to hear that the last loose threads of the Bados Mission have been tied up. We've seized control of all of his companies and shadow corporations thanks to the information you provided. They'll be of significant use to cerberus in the time ahead," the machine eyed man said to her, "and the science labs have studied the unusual alien compounds contained in his food with interest, they'll be extremely useful to you in your next mission."

*Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle, glurge*

"I'm happy to hear that Sir, I'm eager to get back into the field," Lawson told him, desperately trying to cover the voracious demands of her stomach for deep fried chicken in general tso's sauce, a pizza large enough for a tire and a burger bigger than her head.

"Unfortunately, on recommendation from our medical rehab program, you are still not fit for field duty," the Illusive Man said, pushing a report across his desk to Miranda, "in their opinion it wouldn't be safe for you to engage in strenuous activity still. I think we can both agree as to why..."

Miranda swallowed, wishing it was a bubbly soda or decadently thick milk shake.

While Cerberus' other agents had spent months seizing control of Bados' alien funded corporation, Miranda had spent it in rehab trying to get her corpulent body back into a semblance of shape. Although the addled haze of her mental confusion had cleared within a few days of quitting the drugged candies, Miranda's physique hadn't bounced back. All of her hard won muscle tone was totally buzzed and aside from the immense amount of fat, the drugs had altered Miranda's genetics. Her metabolism, crafted with billions of dollars of genetic research to keep her at a size four with little maintenance, had been reset to think Miranda was naturally about 300lbs of quivering dough.

The Cerberus doctors had said told Miranda that she'd developed what had once been called "A glandular problem."

Losing the weight was complicated by Miranda's perfect health being perfectly ruined. Gaining so much weight so quickly had left more marks than the angry purple ones on her belly, butt and breasts, the brunnette's blood pressure and cholesterol were through the roof and she'd been on the verge of developing diabetes. Between medications and losing twenty pounds Miranda had gotten their levels...into the elevated instead of the "DANGER" range but her physicians wanted her on the medications until she got under one hundred and seventy pounds. A weight that had once seemed laughably huge when she was sixty pounds lighter than it but now that she was sixty pounds heavier it seemed impossible to get to.

"So we're assigning you to a new project, as a director. It will be a major investment of resources and a sign of our trust in you," the chainsmoking spy master told her.

*Gurgle* *groan* *grumble*

Miranda tried to keep the blush from her cheeks, "I won't let you down on it, sir."

With her will power restored, Miranda had strenuously avoided any cheat days, over indulgences or even large meals. She'd set herself a strict diet of boiled artificial chicken, broccoli and brown rice, never rising above 1400 calories a day. And the brunette had begun working out as soon as her doctor's allowed her too, walking mile after mile a day and beginning online aerobics, spin and dance classes. She'd set herself to exercising with a furious passion, quickly finding the limits of a body made lazy and sedentary.

The exercise, once a joyful and easy activity that left her brain full of endorphins, was now miserable, sweaty and exhausting. She still hadn't run and wasn't allowed to until her blood pressure was lower, which was of course a vicious cycle as that slowed her glacial weight loss. Not that Miranda could easily run, her muscles and wind had been ruined by the long months of total inactivity. A long walk still left her huffing and puffing, obese body covered in sweat.

A few months later and the brunette was still an obese, huge boobed parody of herself. Her thighs smacked, her belly shook, her ass was still too big for chairs. The catsuit, so suggestion and suiting when she was a lithe 118lbs, was now a terrible and embarrassing choice. It hugged every one of her numerous bulges and folds, showing off her half acre of cellulite and still folded double belly. As no one made clothes for a woman as fat as her, the new uniform was a quick and custom job that fit poorly, being tighter even than her old clothes. She felt like a freak, once she'd left whispers of lust in her wake, now she left giggles and laughs as she waddled by.

This made the brunette useless for field work. At a time when the average woman weighed 140lbs, Miranda was uniquely obese. No one else had fat on their frame like she did, her bountiful fat sticking in the memory more than her sharp features and tight body ever had. Her health, her looks and her career were all motivations to lose weight but all the motivation couldn't help a horribly slow metabolism and genetically altered predisposition to morbid obesity. Yet such was Miranda's extreme discipline that she was losing weight...a pound at best each week. A frustratingly tiny amount considering she'd gained over a pound a day as Bados' guest.

"I'm sure you won't, this is important work. I'm designating a team leader to take down the collector threat, the only one to ever defeat a Reaper in the field," the Illusive Man told her.

"Commander Shepard?" Miranda asked, referencing the gorgeous buff redhead who'd defeated the attempt on the Citadel, "But she's dead."

"That's where you come in. You're now the lead on an operation I'm calling the Lazarus Project," the Illusive Man said, pushing another data file her way, "we best put your talents where they'll be of use. You might not be fit for field work anymore, but your mind has recovered."

Miranda bent for the drive, her catsuit creaking and stomach unleashing another pent up demand for food. Another permanent alteration to the brunette's genetic profile was her appetite, those months of stuffing herself to the limit constantly had left an immense stomach that was always demanding the richest and fattiest foods. The agent went to bed hungry and woke up starving, spending her day dealing with constant grumblings and complaints...but she was damn glad that an especially loud growl had occured right as her butt seam had given up the ghost.

"I understand sir, I'll endeavor to recover from the remaining effects of the drugs while I manage the operation," Miranda said, steadfastly not blushing as a waft of air conditioning hit her exposed cheeks.

She thanked God that the Illusive Man was facing away from her as she turned, heavy cheeks wobbling in the breeze, and promised herself to get that fat reduction cosmetic procedure, risked be damned.

"There's no way in hell I'm ever going to be this fat ever again," the brunette spy promised herself, determination written on her chubby features...

 

[>_< 0_0]

Another chapter?

Wow, she’s still so fat! I’m actually curious how she slims down again. All I know about mass effect is what I saw when a millionaire college student with terets played it in the student union at college 🤔 it was a lot of grinding. Some random aliens... I had no idea it was this sexy! Where’s that hot alien in the gas mask? What’s she up to?