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Miranda's Worst Mission (Mass Effect)

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Guest Sulla67

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1 hour ago, >_< 0_0 said:

Another chapter?Animated GIF

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?

Mass effect is a super sexy game. Lots of romance options. When I'm on pc tomorrow I'll put pics up for those who aren't familiar

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13 hours ago, bigboy1992 said:

I feel that Miranda will get close to her normal weight in the storyline but will gain it back once Shepard is revived. But that is speculation. Maybe she, Jack and a couple of others will compete for Shepard’s attention.

What, is this story that super predictive or something? /s

 

And the last epilogue, with some extreme weight gain. And also lots of description, too many characters, ridiculous lore references and confusion to anyone who didn't play the games.

Sorry >_<, 0_0

Epilogue, 2/2

Two years later...

It had taken two years for Miranda to use cutting edge science and bring the slain Commander Jane Shepard back to life.

Organs had been regrown. Neural pathways recharted. Bones and muscle reinforced or replaced with advanced cybernetics. But at the end, the dead heroine of humanity had been restored, just in time to defeat the rising threat of the Collectors and then their far more destructive masters, the ancient robotic horde known as the Reapers.

Coincidentally, it had taken two years for Miranda to get her figure back. Three hours of working out a day had rebuilt her deflated muscle and burned pound after pound of fat. Strict dieting and healthy eating had shrank her ridiculous stomach capacity so she wasn't constantly rumbling. And when she'd found herself repeatedly plateauing at 200lbs, as her stubborn body refused to dump yet more fat from its now naturally corpulent frame, well a few cosmetic procedures had helped her keep momentum going. Some lipo there, some targeted cryo laser here and then just a few more nips and tucks had gotten Miranda back to a healthy BMI and removed flappy, crinkly excess skin, numerous stretch marks and returned her ruined breasts back to their normal perk.

By the time Shepard had taken her first breath on her own, Miranda was no longer strikingly obese, being a picture of good health. Unfortunately not quite to the teeny tiny size 2, 118 pounds skinny mini body she'd once boasted. Lawson had hit a plateau around 140 lbs, maintaining a set of bodacious curves that saw her fit comfortably into a size 10. Of course, the gorgeous brunette generally wore an uncomfortably tight size eight because only fat girls wore double digit sized clothes. That the vacuumed on catsuits drew the eyes to a pair of immense and surgery perfect E cup breasts that regular clothing struggled to contain was a blessing...but that it clung skin tight to a smooth but highly inflated booty that stubbornly refused to get beneath 40 inches around was sort of humiliating. It was so tight Miranda might have been naked and she couldn't even wear panties less the lines show.

Despite her vanity making the brunette spy still feel freakish, Miranda was back in fighting form though. She joined Shepard's team as his second in command, helping save the galaxy and discovery several new mysteries...

One of which turned out to be that Miranda found herself being very bicurious towards advances from the reborn, very ripped and extremely leggy Commander Jane Shepard, the two celebrating their defeat of the Collectors within a private hotel room on the Asari pleasure planet of Illium.

"I...oh god yes, yes do it harder," Miranda insisted, every muscle in her body burning in explosive joy and then some as the N7 commando kept pounding her, making her swing forwards from the ropes suspending her from the ceiling, "Harder, harder damn it, I'm going to come..."

It turned out that the heroine Miranda had resurrected had an extreme kinky side to her. Not only was Lawson being hammered with an immense, split headed electric strap on vibrating so hard inside her and against her clit that the brunnette feared her insides being literally scrambled, not only was she strung up by padded manacles on each of her limbs, not only was she completed blazed on enough vaped cannabis to leave her genius brain swimming in nothing but sensations, not only was her wobbling badonkadonk beat red from being spanked, not only were vibrating nipple clips making her E cups bounce but the stunning woman was blind folded as well!

Miranda had been more than a bit peeved at not getting to see the muscular Shepard's rippling abs and corded biceps but the sense of helplessness and surprise was making her extra sensitive. She could certainly feel every immense thrust of the muscular ginger's hard hips, the other biotic putting some of the same power that let her blitz across the battlefield into ramming home the vibrating strap on as deep as she could into Miranda's sopping wet vag. Between a refusal to have sex as a fat girl and sheer busyness saving the galaxy, Miranda was at the end of an immense dry spell and had felt ready to explode from the start. So she was pretty annoyed when right before she started climaxing, Shepard pulled the strap on out with a wet *schlorp*.

"What, no no, I'm almost there!" the blind folded biotic insisted, only to get a sharp smack on her already sore bottom.

"Can't let you go too fast, we've got all night and the longer you wait the better it will be Miri. Now let me go get the next toy," Shepard told her, the taller woman giving Miranda's full butt a squeeze, "just wait there and catch your breath."

Miranda let herself relax, trying not to twitch in anticipation. She heard Shepard mucking about, hanging something on the bedspread and then walking back towards the luxury suites kitchen.

"You know, I'm so happy it turned out you were receptive. It would have driven me nuts to never get to spend time with someone as wonderful as you," Shepard told her, voice interspersed with the sound of a fridge opening, "you're smart, you're driven and you never let anyone walk over you."

"Hmmmm, flattery is getting you everywhere," the high Miranda said, trying to stretch as her muscles strained from being suspended like this.

It was a good thing she'd put so much focus on yoga and strength training in her exercise. If she was a little less flexible, or worse still fat, she wouldn't have lasted nearly as long. Ugh, Miranda pushed that thought down. She did her best to never think of that horrible time in her life, having gone as far as scrubbing the entire mission from Cerberus' records before deserting from the organization, and after all the hard work and surgeries no one could tell that she'd once been an obese blimp of a woman.

"And the moment I saw that ass I knew I had to smack. Damn girl but when you said that your body was designed I knew you weren't lying. That's the best pair of tits I've ever seen and your ass looks like it could stop a dreadnought rail cannon shell," Shepard told her, coming back with something sloshing in their arms,"it's so hard to find a girl with real curves anymore, so I was damn happy when I found you."

Miranda practically purred from the praise, feeling  shiver run up her back as Shepard ran her sharp nails along the spy's back...but felt a niggling sensation at that last sentence. Some sort of primitive, flight or fight warning that was pretty useless given she was literally hanging in mid air.

"Keep going on about how sexy I am," the vain brunette said, cooing as Shepard turned her vibrating nipple clips back on.

"You're such a dramatic hour glass, those wide hips, those huge tits, that tiny waist... it must take you a lot of work maintaining that body. I've read the Normandy's gym logs, seen how much time you spend exercising. And whenever you eat, you're always so hungry for more..."

Miranda felt her heart jump in her chest, anxiety and shame running through her, causing the pleasure spike from her vibrating nips to double its effect, "I'm...not...I'm not hungry..."

"Of course you are, you only had a salad for dinner. You were practically drooling over the steak I was eating," Shepard told her, finger tips running over the flat surface of Miranda's abs, "you just wanted to throw yourself onto the desert tray when the waitress carried it by."

The designed perfect woman tried to deny it, but as the ginger Vanguard pinched and caressed her stomach, Miranda's continuously neglected belly grumbled in agreement.

"So...how about some desert?" Shepard hissed in her ear, fitting a muzzle over Miranda's face.

At first, Miri thought it was a ball gag. But she found that she had instead the edge of a rubber hose in her mouth. She tried to say something but her stomach kept grumbling.

"I didn't know if you were a chocolate, vanilla or strawberry girl so I'd ordered all three," Shepard insisted, running her fingers up the curve of Miranda's hard waist, "You know, this is hypocritical, but I can't really stand muscles on a woman. I like them soft and pliable...so how about you put on a few more pounds?"

"I'm...gonna *unf* get fat," Miranda managed to say through the gag, words fumbled both by the hose and the fact that she was positively drooling in involuntary anticipation.

"Please, you've had a fat girl inside you waiting to get out your whole life. Now...," Shepard insisted, pouring something that smelled like an extra large chocolate milkshake into a funnel, "If you don't want that, if you want to be skinny...just don't suck any of it down. Now if you excuse me, I need to get back behind you..."

Miranda felt Shepard remount her, easily sliding in giving how dripping wet she was and felt cold ice cream touch her lips. The vibrations were bouncing up her hard won body, Shepard's powerful, ryhtymic humping making Miranda want to moan...which would let the shake flood into her mouth. She wanted the delicious milkshake more than anything but she knew that after years of holding back, that if she dared open her mouth it would be so, so hard to ever stop again. After years of work and a lot of money, Miranda would lose her hard won perfection, her ass overfilling chairs, her stomach pouring over her lap, her breasts sagging towards the ground...but the milk shake would taste so sweet...

*Glug* *Glug* *Glug*

"There you go, I knew you'd want to suck it down," Shepard said behind her, caressing Miranda's suddenly no longer flat stomach, "don't worry, there's a lot more where that came from..."

As she started enthusiastically sucking down the fattening mixture, her belly starting to swell up, Miranda promised herself that this would be the very last time she cheated on her diet...

....

Four more years later...

Looking forwards to your 40th day is a rare occurrence.

For Miranda, it really shouldn't have meant a major thing. Her carefully engineered genetics meant that she would be able to pass as a twenty something until well into her fifties. And as she took her first step outside of the day, the prediction of the Lawson corporation geneticists from 41 years earlier proved true. Miranda's long black hair was a lustrous sable, her icy pale skin was smooth and soft with not a wrinkle, line or mark visible and her metabolism...

Hadn't been designed with Miranda becoming a feedee in mind. Especially a feedee to the technological God-Queen of the Reaper host. And Shepard, now a gestalt machine intelligence controlling a swarm of ancient alien battleships across the galaxy, had promised her first and biggest lover the stuffing of her life on her 40th if she could just get outside to the pool, enough to make the food addict actually get out of bed before Noon.

At 11:55 am, the automated doors to the massive mansion on Eden Prime hissed open as they sensed Miranda's presence. They hung open for long seconds until a small silver ball hovered through them backwards, a light blue mass effect field emitting from the front of the tiny drone to suspend a vast, pale expanse of flesh that almost filled the double door side to side. At the front of the suspended, folded, wobbling stretch of milky dough was a hold the size of an appetizer plate, deep enough for a fist to fit in to the wrist. Several more feet of jiggling belly lard, as striated and cellulite spackled as the rest, and a couple more drones had to past through before more of Miranda Lawson was visible.

Breasts the size of garbage bags rested across the vast waterfall of belly fat, the massive mammary monsters big enough for the old Miranda to curl up and nap on. Aerola the size of dinner plates were clearly visible through tiny and totally unsupportive white bikini tops. The stretch marks on the mindboggling hooters were thick as Miranda's old thumbs, evidence of an explosive growth fueled by several highly addictive and experimental hormones. With each pathetic sort of step, the swollen mega-boobs gave a slight squirt of creamy milk, the thick white lactase constantly pouring out her. Once this had been natural, from a quintuple pregnancy the motherhood desiring Miranda had gotten from the god-like Shepard as a 35th birthday present back when she'd only been morbidly obese, but Shepard had found the "perfect" woman's constant leaking so hilarious the brunnette's diet had been altered so she'd never stopped making milk. Each massive milf boob had its own support drone, the mass effect fields keeping the double T cup hooters spread out across her gut instead of spilling to the sides.

After the gigantic tits had passed, it was time for Miranda to try and take a step over the doorway. She hadn't been able to actually see her feet since before the Reaper War had begun, spending that conflict as a desk bound analyst, but the hyper obese Brunette still had little practice moving at this size. Each of her thighs was bigger around than her old hip and bust measurements added together. Packs and stacks of fat rolls oozed over her, hiding her knees while her ridiculous cankles spilled over her feet and onto the floor. The swollen limbs, pale surface a sea of cellulite and blue spider veins, were greasy, having been lubed up to keep them from getting a friction rash from each other before she'd started sweating. A few micro-mass effect drones circled them, their combined beams enough to almost not make her joints groan from just her leg fat and thanks mostly to the drones, Miranda was able to sort of step over the doorway. She wasn't really walking, twenty combined drones were instead elevating her just slightly off the ground, enough for her swollen feet to press herself forwards slightly, with each halting wiggle of her legs.

The double door was wide open, enough to let several normal people walk side to side. But Miranda was far from normal, let alone perfect. She had lovehandles the size of an Alliance Marine, the bulbous, drooping lard sacks each nearing Miranda's old peak size. The flopping dead weights were hanging over the string of her custom made thong, their creased surfaces splitting into her currently elevated apron belly in the front or her deep valleys of back fat behind. And they pressed tight into the door jabs, preventing any further movement, just as the mass effect drones dropped the dump truck sized bulk of Miranda's ass to the ground. Four of the small balls were programmed to keep Lawson's butt avalanche off the ground when she'd gotten moving, but to make sure the titanic ex-operative got her daily dose of humiliation, whenever she stopped walking the drones were programmed to let the couch crunching buns slap to the ground.

Pinned before and behind, Miranda bent her rolly poly arms, the stacked fat rolls an effort to lift up and pushed her fists against the door. Tugging would have been impossible, her fingers had been too thick to bend for over a year after all. Pushing did nothing, Miranda was stuck good and too weak to help herself. All the effort did was get even more sweat raining from her body and make the pathetic blob too out of breathe to call for help.

"Hurry up Miri, we're fucking hungry!" a somewhat harsh voice demanded, "If you aren't here soon, I'm going to light the candles for you and wish for your fat ass to the hurry the hell up!"

A growl sounded under Miranda's eighth chin and her honeydew melon cheeks burned red at her rival's words. She glared at the figures who were seated at several long, snack covered tables on the patio by the mansion's pool. Each had been a hero in the struggle of the war against the Reapers...and each had spent the time since getting to various stages of obesity. Ignoring the others, Miranda's piggish and somewhat short sighted blue eyes settled on her rival Jack, her lips curling into a scowl.

Jack, or Subject Zero, was the most powerful human biotic ever recorded. Abused by a rogue cerberus cell, she'd been recruited by Shepard as a living weapon against the Collectors. Then the renegade criminal had been rail thin and androgynous, her scalp shaved and her body covered in kill tattoos. Since joining Shepard's ...well, Miranda had to call it what it was, a harem, Jack's buzzed scalp had grown into a long mane of gorgeous brown hair. She still had the tattoos, though they were stretched over the 800+ pounds the psychotic biotic had packed in four years. Her ass was as wide as a hover car and hung down to her calves, an amorphous blob consuming more and more of the morbidly obese Jack's body. Her breasts were watermelons and her belly a bean bag chair, but she was still the most drastically pear shaped of Shepard's concubines. Because of her extreme pear shape she was wearing a black, thong backed one piece, stretched tight over her body and not distracting from previously toothpick legs grown so pillowy with weak fat that Jack had lost the ability to walk more than a few feet, making her totally motor scooter dependent.

She was the second fattest inhabitant of the mansion, the second woman to move into it and Miranda's worst enemy. The high class Lawson hated Jack's crude language and vulgar habits...almost as much as she loved sex with the other hopelessly obese woman. Early on Jack had double teamed Miranda with Shepard, flaunting her tiny body in front of the then 400lb and heavily pregnant ex-cerberus agent. But despite not wanting to gain, Jack had been completely unable to control herself, blimping up at the same rate as her rival and not stopping her tirades of fat jokes and insults even as she herself moved into the ranks of the immobile. Miranda partly regretted that the two hadn't let their mutual hatred boil over back when she was thin, if Lawson had been easily capable of movement the things she'd do to that tattoo'd bitch...

"Take it easy on her Jack, you know she's too fat for the motor scooters to carry like the rest of us. And she's so sensitive about her size," a kinder, sweeter voice told her, "if she gets mocked she'll start crying again and its going to take forever for her to quiet down so we can eat."

That belonged to an Asari, one Dr. Liara T'soni, gaining mansion inhabitant number 3 and coincidentally the third fattest lady on the planet. The 100 year old, light blue, alien archaeologist still had her girl next door sweetness, as shown by her bubblegum pink bikini, unchanged by becoming the Shadow Broker, the galaxy's most powerful information broker and spy master. Really the Asari's sweetness was only boosted by gaining 700 lbs, turning into a living blue berryshaped pie of a woman. The alien gained immensely around the middle, her sapphire love handles pouring into the multiple cup holders of her motor scooter while her tidal wave of belly fat spilled out of her lap and most of the way down her just fat shins, a few months away from interfering with her feet hitting the pedals.

She was the peacemaker of the group, despite being biologically the youngest. Kind and sweet, she also stress ate when any drama occurred. And given the strong personalities involved, it wouldn't be long until Liara had left Jack in the dust and started pushing in on Miranda's heavy weight title.

"Fine, I won't mention how she's too fat for any vehicle smaller than a frigate to move," Jack groaned, crossing her hamhock arms under her boobs and then sucking a 32 oz soda dry, "maybe if she had a little bit of fucking self control around food..."

"Like you've got a lot of room to talk, tubby," Ashley laughed, the ex-marine extended a trunk like limb to point a sausage finger at the tires of Jack's motor scooter, "as low as those tires are, it looks like you're going to be getting carried around by field drones by the end of the month. Maybe if you did any exercise at all you'd be able to move that big butt around without someone else humping it..."

Lieutenant Ashley Williams was the second human SPECTER, once one of the most elite and badass commandos in the galaxy. The fourth arrival at the mansion, the then muscular and fit Latina had openly embraced gaining weight, planning on bulking to three or four hundred pounds while heavily exercising to get and maintain a strong fat look, with a big beefy belly, massive power lifter thighs with huge squat buns to math, the gigantic boobs her Alliance Marine diet had never allowed her and huge, well defined arms. But plans had a way of coming too true, Ashley had gotten the strong fat look alright but she'd kept eating afterwards. She still did a hundred curls a day, now up to fifty pounds per hand, but so much fat was on her jiggling lunch lady arms she had no visible muscle tone. Her leg press weight was even more impressive, but Ashely still needed a walker to move around.

Despite her exercise, Ashley's "eat big to lift bigger" mentality hadn't included nearly enough cardio to match her mouth. The ex-marine killed a six pack of craft beer every time she did a set of weights, leading to a triple beer keg of a folded belly that had prevented her doing any sit ups in a year and was now pulling her weakened torso towards the ground. This had led to a slow cascade, her once massive but taut ass was losing its muscle and deflating, and an inability to do a bench press due to her sensitive H cup boobs getting in the way meant Ashley's unsupported chest was hanging half way out of her cut off, white "Alliance Marine Lifting Team" t-shirt, just as her beer gut and love handles were eating her black thong.

"Ashley, no insults! We've got to all support each other, especially when it comes to weight! The world pushes a very unfair standard of beauty and we'll spiral if we don't help each other realize we can't meet it!" Liara, who'd once been supermodel lean, started to insist, "we've got to embrace our beauty, at any size!"

"Oh fuck off ya booze hound Jarhead," Jack hissed, lifting several cupcakes with her still unmatched biotic powers, sending one of them flying straight into Ashley's mouth, "so let's stuff you so full you'll bust that walker..."

"Bring it tattoo, I'll punch you in your fat ass so hard, you'll be skinny again!" Ashley said, flexing a powerful arm that held a full bottle of beer, pausing to drain it, and then flexing threateningly.

"Girls please, we're a sister hood aren't we? We've got to *mumf*!" Liara tried to insist, her words cut off by Jack telekinetically flinging a cupcake into her mouth, a treat the blubbery woman soon swallowed, "Jack, that's rude! Food based insults are very *mumf!"!"

By the time Jack and Ashely were half way through their harangue, and Liara was most of the way through a tray of cupcakes, Miranda had at last gotten enough breath to call for help.

"I'm...I'm stuck...help me," Miranda groaned, voice made hoarse by her octet of chins, "I'm so...bloody hungry..."

"Of course she is," Jack groaned, filling her mouth with a cupcake, "can someone push the lardass before I starve?"

"Jack, please. We've got to be body positive," Liara hissed at the second fattest woman, turning to her somewhat more capable, "can the rest of you help her, please?"

Ashley swallowed with a gulp and a belch, "Yeah, alright. Let's go push her girls, follow my lead. Umf...ugh, uh...one minute..."

Despite her attempt at being the "Fit-Fat" girl, it took Ashley about ten minutes to stand up under normal circumstances. Jack tossing cupcake after cupcake into Ashley's mouth didn't help the ex-marine get off the bench bent under her obesity. But the newer arrivals began helping as they could.

The newest arrival was Tali'Zorah, she'd been in the house only a week but the Quarian admiral had shown up as a quarter ton of blubber. The ascended Shepard had cured the Quarian's suppressed immune system, letting the purple skinned humanoids out of their protective suits. Free of Germaphobia, Tali had responded like most of her people by eating everything she could get her hands on. Quarians couldn't eat the same food as humans...which meant that Tali had been digging into a specially prepared smorgashboard for long enough her purple gut flesh had popped the buttons on her cut off shorts and her lumpy purple butt had ripped the denim in half. An all over fatty, like the much bigger Miranda, Tali didn't stir from her private feast beyond shoving a stray boob back into her bikini top and waving plump fingers at her personal drone to go support the fleet keeping Miranda off the ground.

Ex-Cerberus Yeoman Kelly Chambers put a chubby hand on her back, bracing herself so she wouldn't be crippled by the pull of her massive boobs and using the other to help push up her 395lb body. Most of her body was an even, solid fat, save for a pillowy gut, but gaining had activated gigantomastia in the redhead's previously small chest. The petite ginger was dwarfed by her gigantic bosom, which she was immensely proud of and had refused any offers of medication or reduction. She'd always looked up to Miranda and was proud that she was catching up to her idol in tit size, even if she had a half ton of fat to gain to reach the elephantine Lawson.

"Don't worry, help is on the way Exec officer Lawson! We'll get you out of their before your belly even rumbles!" Kelly said after getting up, the sway of her double head sized swingers popping free of her blue mono-kini and instead hitting the woman next to her in the face with a J cup, "Oh jeez, sorry Sam!"

Specialist Samantha Traynor, a former Navy communications' specialist and Chamber's replacement on the Normandy, had arrived the same day as Kelly and was strangely linked to her. The mahogany skinned Anglo-Indian woman was even the same weight as the ginger...but was built very differently. Prim and proper, Unlike the rest of the hedonistic group who'd worn swimsuits, Traynor had arrived in high heels, full make up and a sparkling sequenced gown that had almost zipped shut across her massive bubble butt. Her red top was only two cup sizes larger than the bra Samantha had arrived in, but her once yoga taut booty was the third biggest ass in the entire house, merged with tree trunk thighs. Her arms were only plump and her face only had two chins, most of Traynor's weight located below the waist. So while the blow to Sam's head was more surprising than painful,  the momentum from the boob strike was enough to tip Traynor backwards and the pull of her proudly displayed brown badonkadonk did the rest.

"Kelly, you ginger idiot!" Traynor gasped, arms pinwheeling as her butt pulled her into the pool, "I'm not wearing a suit!"

The dress wearing pear hit the water with a splash, throwing up a tidal wave that splashed onto a seemingly unoccupied seat. Electronics shorted out, revealing a bare Kasumi Goto stealthily munching down on party snacks. The Japanese thief and stealth specialist had just visited a year earlier, enjoying the feeding enough to pop a pant's button but leaving after a couple weeks claiming that the feedee lifestyle wasn't for her. At the sight of the once ultra skinny Kasumi's corpulent, 300lb body sitting naked in the freeze after her stealth field had shorted out, several mysteries involving stolen food and theories on fridge raiding ghosts were solved.

While Miranda struggled uselessly at the door, Traynor was trying to pull herself out of the pool, Kelly was trying to help her friend, wrangle her boobs into her top and accusing Kasumi of stealing her food, a mortified Kasumi was attempting a waddling escape, Tali was eating and accomplishing nothing, Jack and Ashlee were arguing and Liara was being inadvertently stuffed to keep her quiet, the last woman seated at the table could only sigh.

"Goddess, these fat girls just have lost any self control or ability to do anything. No wonder Shepard called me into help slim them down," Samara sighed and pushed back her chair,  her leggy body shown off by a red micro bikini.

A middle aged Asari, the buff and busty Justicar had found a post war galaxy without dangerous criminals to hunt or innocents in need of protection thanks to the shepherding fleet of converted Reapers enforcing the peace. She'd accepted an offer from the Reaper's controlling intelligence, her old friend and former squad mate Shepard, to help take care of her blimped out ex-comrades two months ago and had been shocked to find not just their total obesity, but their acceptance of it. The only one who even exercised was Ashley, who was still under the impression she was actually quite fit despite barely being able to walk.

"Best get them one at a time," Samara decided.

She grabbed the fleeing, out of breath Kasumi by the ear and hauled her back to the table to apologize. Then got Kelly's boob shoved back into her top, which wasn't an easy task given the ginger's state of excitement. The Asari used her biotic powers to lift the half drowning Traynor out of the water, depositing her back on an eating couch.

"Can you three stop arguing so we can help Miranda? None of you are very far away from needing help yourself!" Samara insisted, poking Ashley's beer gut and Jack's largest thigh roll to emphasize this, "you all need some self control, I've never seen people get so fat so fast!"

Ashley and Jack paused their arguing, leaning more and more towards a half buzzed make out session, to look at Samara and openly laugh.

"Sure thing, one month record holder," Ashley snorted, downing another beer.

"You're one to talk about self control," Jack agreed.

"What are you two even talking about?" Samara asked with a steely stare, the tall Asari looking down on the two immense humans, "between my training and my prayers I am in complete control of myself!"

Both humans, by unspoken agreement, poked a finger hard into Samara's exposed belly. Rather than touch taut abs like Samara expected, their fingers sank deep into a toneless paunch before hitting the stuffed layer of Samara's actual food stuffed stomach. Both humans pinched the flabby belly chub, sending a jiggle through the Justicar's near 200lb body.

"What the...no! What is this!?" Samara nearly screamed in horror, looking down at her dumpy figure, noticing it for the first time.

"Uh, the result of you stealing fucking food out of people's hands and eating it all the time," Jack said with a roll of her eyes, "if not for you drinking her beers, drinky over there would be too big for her walker."

"So we had to eat more, which you kept stealing," Ashley agreed, "Lardass over their would be too fat for her chair if not for you stealing her snacks."

"You've ruined me!" the once lean and still comparatively tiny Asari screamed, sending Jack and Ashley rolling into action.

Jack telekinetically tore off Samara's bra, letting the mother of three's now saggy boobs flop free. The biotic criminal gunned the engine of her scooter, the overloaded cart shooting off from the table at almost ten miles an hour. When a mortified Samara tried to chase after her, Ashley's strong hand snatched the Asari's far too snug string bikini off and promptly sat on it with a bulk too big for Samara to pick up with muscle or biotic power.

Enraged, Samara looked back and forth, trying to cover up her exposed dignity and sucking in her stomach as if she hadn't been flaunting a more than starter stomach every day since it had popped over her abs. Deciding her breasts were easier to get, she chased off after Jack, soon wondering when her form had gotten so bad and why she had a stitch in her side.

Looking down on the chaotic scene, the still stuck and near crying Miranda struggled still. She was exhausted from having to do any movement at all besides lay in a supportive pool, sweating from the 70 degree farenheit temperature of the semi-tropical beach house and painfully hungry from not being full. The hyper obese, 1300lb woman wasn't in any danger, her frame was packed full of enough Reaper derived cybernetics to keep herself healthy at three times this size, but to someone who'd spent years being pampered into a barely humanoid shape, any moment spent not eating was pure torture!

"Easy there my prize piglet, you won't go hungry today," Shepard's voice told her, the tough redhead stepping out from the shadow of Miranda's gut.

"Shepard!" Miranda said, her robotic heart thunder in joy at seeing her lover/the most powerful being in galactic history, "I thought you'd forgot!"

"Miri, Miri, how could I forget my prize milker?" Shepard told her oldest, biggest lover, "or let you go hungry. You've got to keep your title as the fattest of the fat, we can't let Jack or anyone else catch up?"

Shepard looked totally unchanged. A tall and muscular redhead in her mid thirties, her skin freckled and her eyes a vivid green. Her legs were long, her muscles taut and she had arms like a champion boxer. Of course, she'd gone through the biggest change of anyone, this body wasn't even human, just a robotic chasis under synthetic flesh and nannite generated holograms. Shepard's body, the one Miranda had worked so hard to rebuild, had been destroyed taking over the genocidal Reapers with the Commander's mind now a vast artificial intelligence controlling thousands of massive alien warships. One was always in orbit over the mansion on Eden Prime, watching and controlling several robotic versions of Shepard.

"Of course not, but, where's my cake?" the obscenely fat Miranda asked, her priorities so skewed and her once hard working personality so subsumed that stuffing more food into her mouth was all she could think of.

"Miri, I promised the best stuffing of your life, didn't I?" the robotic Shepard smiled, motioning to two other robots of herself carrying over a seven tier wedding cake, "and what better way to enjoy it than from being jammed in a double door?"

Miranda drooled, the food addict overcome with joy as the cake was set down in front of her. Atop it was a small, solid sugar carving of a ultra curvaceous, rail thin woman with long black hair, in a white and black jumpshoot. It was strangely familiar to Lawson, who's pudgy brow furrowed in confusion.

"Jane, who's on the cake?" she asked as Shepard plucked the figurine off.

"Why Miri, don't you remember? Its the skinny girl you used to be inside of," Shepard asked, placing the sugar figurine into Lawson's open mouth and closing her puffy jaw, "and now she's never coming out again..."

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@Batman76 That was certainly interesting. Maybe for another story in mass effect have a love pentagram between Miranda, Kelly, Liara, Jack and Tali with Shepard. Each one competing for Shepard’s attention after noticing how they react to one of the characters who has put on weight recently due to an injury. Shepard could feel guilty about it as it was on their watch. So at first, they mistakenly believe that is Shepard’s secret interest but it’s not. Only for Shepard later to find it interesting. I guess it could be set during mass effect 3 in the citadel dlc storyline. It would be good as we don’t know how long Shepard and company where there for the Normandy’s repair/re-fit. It could have been a couple of weeks or months die to the resource scarcity and the whole taken over by the evil clone would have complicated things further.
 

On second thought, maybe do something else. While it would make for a good slow burn story but it’s long, possibly lore heavy and complicated. 

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Guest Dan Lawson

@Batman76

This line best describes my personal preference 

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.’

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