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Cyril Figgis

The Superheavyweight Champion (NEW CHAPTER ADDED 4/2/2021)

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((And following on the heels of Survivor Series, we gear up for the SHWC version--Global War!  Not a lot of gaining or fat fun in this chapter, but I guarantee the goods in the next.  As always, let me know what you think!))


Four weeks until Global War…

Dave Ericson paced back and forth in front of the booking committee of the Global Wrestling Federation.  In addition to booking the weekly shows and smaller events, it was time to prepare for the last big pay-per-view of the year—Global War.  It was a show that featured big blow-outs, violent clashes between rivals, and two five-on-five matches, one for the men and one for the women.  Despite being one of the big quarterly shows, Global War had dipped in ratings and buys over the years, and the threat of cancellation loomed heavy over the once revered event.

“We need something big to hook them,” Dave muttered to himself, just loud enough for the rest of the committee to hear, “something that will keep them going at least until the Showdown in the spring.  What do we have that would get these marks talking again?”

The bookers all glanced around the room, silently daring one another to be the first to propose something.  Getting Dave Ericson to listen to an idea was a challenge in of itself; actually getting him to greenlight it was something else entirely.  They had to find a sweet spot of pandering to the boss without compromising too much on their proposal; this only got more challenging as Dave got older and more out of touch.

“What if we had a dark horse win a title?” asked one brave soul. “We’re still a month out—plenty of time to build someone up.”

“Yeah, but who do we take the title from?  Every champion we have is red hot,” contested one of the older bookers.

Dave sat back down at the head of the table, folded his hands together, and furrowed his brow as he ruminated on the decision.  To him, it was an easy decision: strip Shinobu Misawa of the Women’s Championship and put it on someone more deserving.  He had no idea why the spritely woman was so popular, especially after she had allowed herself to balloon over the last few months.  When she had an ass you could bounce a quarter off, she looked and acted the part of a champion, even if she did still have that fixation on animu or whatever it was called.

His thoughts drifted to a match Shinobu had a few weeks prior, when she wrestled a greenhorn named Ananya Patel.  The champion had come out to the match in a blue skinsuit with white boots, gloves, and chest plate, with her hair done up in a tower of spikes.  What stuck out the most to Dave was how the skinsuit looked like it had been painted onto Shinobu—it left absolutely nothing to the imagination.  Her thunder thighs thrashed about, threatening to tear through their spandex prison with every move, and her belly jutted out from her middle as if she was expecting.

It disgusted him to see one of his prize champions let themselves go, even if Shinobu had stayed nimble in spite of her weight.  Dave was a man stuck in the past, whose perfect wrestler was a towering pinnacle of physical perfection with muscles or curves for days.  There was no place in his company for someone who allowed themselves to turn into fat slobs—unless it was under his direction, of course.

“We’re going to take the title off Misawa,” the old man announced to a stunned room. “I don’t give a damn how much the pencil-neck geeks on the Internet love her; she can’t be champion if she can’t wrap the belt around her waist!  Now, who’s going to do the deed?

And thus, the seeds were planted for the biggest screw-job outside of Montreal…

Three weeks until Global War…

Ananya Patel felt like she was walking on air as she made her way back to the locker room after her big match.  One of the booking agents had approached her two days prior and told her that she would be getting a shot at the Women’s Championship in just a few short weeks.  On-screen, she got that opportunity after winning a four-way bout against three big names in the Women’s Division, including Katherine Donna.  It was like a rocket had been strapped to the former weightlifter; she could never have expected a championship match after only being with the company for a few brief months.

When she waltzed into the locker room, she was surprised to find her would-be opponent at Global War—Shinobu Misawa.  The stout girl had her back turned to the door, but there was no mistaking her portly physique.  Shinobu’s backside jutted out as though she had crammed two soccer balls down the back of her tights, and Ananya swore that she could hear seams straining as the plump powerhouse stretched her legs out in a set of lunges.  It was hard to think that she was the same woman from the Showdown Supreme, who pummeled Mickey Ramone to within an inch of her life.

“Hey, Shinobu,” Ananya greeted the chunky champion as she sauntered over to her locker. “You getting ready for your match later?”

“Hai,” Shinobu hummed peacefully as she stood up straight, which only served to make her gut that much more pronounced. “Always good to stretch before a match, no matter how long.”

“I hear you,” the greenhorn chuckled in reply as she shucked off her lavender top, revealing ropy arms, pert breasts, and a stomach that could double as a cheese grater.  Ananya might not have been able to wrestle her way out of a paper bag, but she looked like she could bench-press a building.

Her opponent’s chipmunk cheeks dimpled as she offered a warm smile. “I saw your match earlier—nice work.”

The compliment made Ananya’s heart somersault with glee.  There had been so much news lately about how she was being pushed too fast, or how she did not gel with the rest of the locker room.  But if she had the approval of someone like Shinobu Misawa, what did it matter?  She was working as hard as she could to be up there with the greats, and damn it, she was going to get there.

“Thanks,” the raven-haired woman replied, her cheeks turning peachy pink. “That really does mean a lot, coming from someone like you.  You know, one of your matches actually got me into wrestling—the one with all the light tubes!”

This time, it was Shinobu’s turn to blush.  It never failed to amaze her when someone would say they got into the wild world of wrestling because of her.  That was one of those little signs that told her she had made it—that she served as an inspiration for others.

“Then I hope we can have a great match of our own, kouhai,” the diminutive doughball told the rookie, her grin only growing bigger. “Though they probably will not allow light tubes.”

Both women shared a laugh, which made the otaku’s belly bounce like a certain, jolly elf.  The stipulation for their match had not been decided yet, but whatever they were given, they were going to put it all on the line.  Ananya needed to prove that she deserved to be with legends like Shinobu, and her senior was going to help—just not in the way she expected…

Two weeks until Global War…

 “That’s great, Dave!” Sadie Storme exclaimed over the phone, sounding less like a scheming backstage politician and more like a giddy school girl. “I’m so glad the committee could see things my way.  I promise, it’s going to be great; would I ever steer you wrong?”

“Mm-hmph!” Natalie Donna grunted as she struggled to choke down her fifth extra-large milkshake of the night.

“Pipe down, Notapig, I’m on the phone!” hissed the sadistic woman as she continued to pour the thick, chocolatey mass down a funnel.  Sadie rolled her eyes at the rude interruption and quickly told her boss, “Oh, just the TV, that’s all.  Uh-huh!  All right, boss, I’ll see you on Monday!”

After hanging up and tossing her phone away, the buxom blonde glanced down at her hefty handiwork tied to a chair and a funnel in her mouth.  Sadie had been stuffing Natalie constantly since that fateful Halloween night; the poor porker had packed on five pounds in the last week and a half alone.  The Donna twin was still on the slender side of things, but with how much food she was packing away these days, it was only a matter of time before she grew chubby, then plump, then fat, and then properly obese.  She was already feeling the effects of her gluttony, from tightening clothes to a constant bloat in her stomach, but she could not think of parting with the pleasure that accompanied each new pound.

“Mm-hmph?” Natalie grunted, curious to know what the phone call with the boss was.

“It’s rude to try and talk with your mouth full, Notapig,” Sadie playfully chided her plaything.  While she removed the funnel from Natalie’s mouth, she gave a sharp flick to the piglet’s stuffed belly.  It was taut like a drum, and warm to the touch from how full it was. “Now, what did you want to ask me?”

Natalie whimpered as pain jolted through her tummy, but she managed to murmur, “What d-d-d-did he say?”

The blonde knelt down beside her project and tenderly stroked her swollen stomach, admiring just how bloated she had made the diva.  Sadie cooed, “Well, I told him that I thought our team could use a little change in its dynamic, and that you and Kat could stand to have a bigger role in the company.  Good news—Katty’s going to get a singles run!”

“That’s—urp—great,” Natalie gurgled, using every ounce of willpower to keep down her dinner and the milkshakes that accompanied it. “B-B-B-But where d-d-does that leave me?”

“That’s the better news!” the champion exclaimed as she took one of Natalie’s hands and gave it a squeeze. “You and I are going to be a tag team from now on!”

The strawberry-blonde’s eyes went wide, but she was too stuffed to consider the ramifications of what this meant.  Thankfully, she had Sadie there to outline it for her. “That means that you and I are going to have to spend a lot more time together: training, traveling, and taking the world by storm.  Of course, your new role is going to require you listening to what I say; after all, who would believe that I would take orders from a bloated sow like you?  But don’t worry, I guarantee you’ll love it!”

The worst part was that no matter how humiliating it would be, Natalie really would love it…

One week until Global War…

“And get this—I’m going to have a singles run!” Katherine Donna gleefully announced as she munched on one salty fry after another. “I’m going solo, baby!”

“Katty, that’s awesome,” Maxine huffed, equally excited for her friend but gassed after running a few miles on the treadmill.

The two women could not have been any more different in how they were spending their Saturday morning.  While the Amazonian Maxine had woken up early to go to the gym, the voluptuous Katherine had slept in after gorging herself on fried turkey and stuffing waffles.  Maxine had prepared a breakfast of hardboiled eggs and avocado atop hearty toast; Katherine had gone out for biscuits, which then became an extra-large order of chicken tenders and Cajun fries.  Their roles had been completely reversed in a few short months, the only difference being that the Donna did not have a sadistic feeder controlling every aspect of her life.

“So, what does that mean for you and Natalie?” asked Maxine as she hopped off the treadmill.

Katherine stifled a belch and looked for a napkin to wipe her spice and grease-covered fingers clean.  Finding nothing, she settled for brushing them off on her pajama pants, the next best option; it was not like they cost her that much anyway. “Well, Natty’s going to be working with Sadie, so she’ll still have stuff to do—tag team stuff, you know?”

The brunette brawler scowled at the mention of her ex, but held her tongue.  It was unfortunate, but the Storme Troop made money—too much money for the higher-ups to ignore.  She hated the idea of Kat and Natty to be stuck with Sadie, but knowing how much of a politician that witch could be, they would not have been able to split up even if they wanted to.  The best Maxine could hope for was to nip anything in the bud, lest Natalie wind up just like her.

“Just keep an eye on Natty, okay?  If she’s not careful, Sadie will have her buttons popping by Christmas,” the Amazon cautioned her friend.

“Don’t worry—I won’t let anything bad happen to her,” Kat responded before taking a long draught of bubbly soda. “I don’t trust Sadie as far as I can throw her.”

Maxine joined her and took a swig of her protein shake.  After cooling down and catching her breath, the giantess patted her slimmer stomach and smirked as she asked, “Changing topics—was that a Max Powerbomb I saw you pulling off the other night?”

“Maybe,” the strawberry-blonde giggled. “What’d you think?”

“Honestly?  Pretty good, even if you are a heck of a lot shorter than me,” the brunette chortled. “Oh, and word to the wise from your favorite fat girl—it might be time to upgrade your gear.”

That remark gave Kat pause, and she glanced down her puffy torso.  She had done quite a number to her slender physique in the last month or two: her tummy had a definite pooch to it, her breasts were generous handfuls, and she could feel a second chin bunch up as she leaned her head down.  It was crazy that she had plumped up at all, but that was not even the strangest part.

No, the strangest part was that Kat knew, deep, deep down, that she liked it…

The night before Global War…

Ananya fiddled with her fingers as she waited in a secluded restaurant booth for Dave Ericson and another guest from the GWF.  As she cracked the joints and knuckles, she thought back to the conversation she had with her boss once she set foot in St. Louis.  He had invited her out to dinner for the express purpose of going over the match with Shinobu the day after—something to do with last minute changes.  After being assured that this was common, she arrived twenty minutes early and waited with bated breath for what felt an eternity.

Finally, Dave strode in with Patricia Nicholson, one of the referees for the GWF.  Ananya shot out of her seat to greet them, only for the head of the company to curtly tell her, “Please, have a seat, Ananya.”

Like a dejected puppy, the weightlifter sat back down and watched as Dave and Patricia sat across from her.  Dave was stoic as ever, but Patricia, normally one of the most amiable people in the room, was avoiding her gaze.  Ananya felt a lump for in her throat, and she looked to her boss for answers.

“First, let me say that you’re not in any trouble, and the match is going to go on as planned,” the hulking CEO explained. “I would never deny anyone their first chance at a Pay-per-view match.”

Ananya breathed a heavy sigh of relief, knowing she would not look like a fool after telling her family and friends that she would be in Global War.  Once the relief passed, curiosity replaced the feeling of dread, and she asked, “Then what’s going on?”

Without missing a beat, Dave answered, “We’re changing the ending of the match—you’re going to win the title from Misawa.”

Like a rollercoaster, Ananya rocketed right back into dread again.  It did not take a rocket scientist to piece together what was happening: the clandestine meeting, bringing Patricia, and discussing the match without Shinobu.  She had heard stories about this sort of thing—screwing wrestlers out of their titles.  Of all the things to happen in her fledgling career, the rookie never imagined she would be involved in a scandal quite like this.  Her nerves ate at her stomach, and she wrung her napkin until the fabric began to tear.

As the neophyte fidgeted in her seat, Dave explained, “Shinobu isn’t champion material anymore—hasn’t been for quite sometime.  We see a lot of potential in you, and we think you’d be the perfect woman to unseat her.  Think about it: your paycheck would skyrocket, you’d be higher up than anyone on the card, and you would have all eyes on you.”

He set his massive hands on the table and folded them together. “Of course, you could always walk away from this, but I wouldn’t do that if I were you.  Do you know how many women would kill to be champion?  There are wrestlers who will never get anywhere close to a belt; they would slit throats to be in your position.  Think about it—all you have to do is pin one butterball, and your stock in the GWF explodes!”

It made Ananya sick to her stomach, but she only had one answer.  Weightlifting was done with her, and she was not good enough to be picked up by any other promotion.  With bile rising in her throat, she murmured, “I’ll do it…”

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((If TLC 11 left you in the cold, never fear--we've got your back in the Global Wrestling Federation!  Global War is kicking off tonight, promising big changes for a few of our leading ladies.  You won't want to miss a single moment!  As always, let me know what you think, and enjoy!))


Finally the night of Global War arrived, promising brawls from wrestlers across all GWF brands and big changes for all involved.  The evening had a hot start with a bout for the North American Championship, followed by a cooldown match to determine the number one contender for the UK Title.  In between the matches were backstage segments meant to either hype up the next match or reflect on the outcome of the previous bout.  One such segment came after the Cruiserweight Championship match, and featured Katherine Donna, who looked much different than she did this same time the year prior.  Gone was the petite wrestler with just enough sensual curves, replaced instead by a vision of the corn-fed girl she could have been had she stayed in Wisconsin.

Katty had squeezed herself into a pair of dark blue shorts that looked like they were painted onto her soccer ball-sized cheeks, and every move she made wedged them that much deeper in between the plump globes.  Fluffy love handles oozed over the waistband of the booty shorts, forming a tasty muffin top that a world-class baker could not have done better.  Those love handles wrapped around to a plush stomach that pushed her tank-top out as if she had crammed a creamy pillow beneath it.  Perhaps most impressive were the cannonballs that bounced and sloshed like a pair of water balloons; they had grown fastest of all, not content with staying modest handfuls.  They were not the tits of Katherine the Model, but Katherine the Fat Girl.

As Katherine fiddled with her top in a Sisyphean effort to contain her chubby body, she was interrupted by a knock on the dressing room door.  A bespectacled production assistant poked her head in and told the diva, “Ten minutes until the tag match, Miss Donna.”

“Thank you, Tori,” Katty replied with a nod, which formed a tiny double chin. “Be there in five.”

After the assistant left, Kat turned her attention back to her reflection.  She ran her fingers through her flowing locks once, twice, three times, doing everything she could to avoid fidgeting with her clothes on an event being streamed all over the world.  It had taken her ages to get her gear on, but the people did not need to know that; she just needed to make sure it stayed intact over the course of the night.  No easy feat, considering she could almost hear the threads straining in her shorts.

Just as she was about to bite the bullet and fiddle with her shorts, there was another knock at the door.  The diva rolled her eyes and called out, “I said I’d be ready in a few minutes!  Just give me a little more time!”

The door disappeared from view as the camera turned to get Katherine’s reaction in full.  Her eyes went wide with shock before narrowing in confusion and frustration as she asked, “What are you doing here?  You’re not even on the card tonight.  Why—”

That was the last word she uttered before someone barged in from behind the cameraman and attacked the diva.  The camera fell to the ground, showing only Kat’s thick legs and her attacker’s sweatpants-covered lower body.  Whoever they were, they filled out those pants to the fullest, to the point that they might as well have been wearing yoga pants.  A scuffle could be heard and seen, but the assailant’s identity went unexposed as the camera cut away from the attack.


As the audience pondered the identity of Kat’s attacker, the Women’s War was set to begin.  The scene in the ring looked like something out of an action movie—two teams squaring up across the ring, daring each other to make the first move.  On the one side stood an assembly of heroines across the GWF brand: Terra Carter, a technician known for devastating submissions; Kaylee Grey, a former dancer and the Queen of Queens; La Santa, the third such luchadora to wear that venerable title and mask; Lora Rose, an Appalachian refugee who was strong as a bear; and the team captain, Anzu Bonny, a Kyoto native who commanded the ring like the pirate queen she fancied herself to be.

On the opposite side stood four of the most dominant, destructive heels in the Women’s Division.  Hanging upside down from the ropes was the Red Widow, a psychopath who spoke only in violence.  To her left, leaning against the corner post, was Iris Lonergan, a white nationalist who made it a mission to crush out inferior wrestlers.  To Widow’s right was Dame Elizabeth Knox, an aristocrat who often worked with Iris in attempts to purify the GWF of any “riff-raff”.  Leading the motley crew was Sadie Storme in all her glory, who alternated between sizing up the competition and glancing back at the entrance ramp.

The referee of the match, a pixie-cut blonde named Vanessa Dee, took a microphone from the ring announcer and explained to Sadie, “It’s time to start the match, Miss Storme.  Kat’s had plenty of time to get out here; you’re just going to have to compete with a handicap.”

“She’ll be here,” the frustrated team captain retorted, getting within a hair’s breadth of the referee. “Just give her another—”

At that moment, Katty’s hard rock entrance music played and all eyes turned to the entrance ramp.  The jumbotron displayed her name in massive letters, and the bewildered ring announcer called out, “Now entering, the fifth member of Team Storme—Kat Donna!”

The woman who ran out onto the entrance ramp, however, was not Kat Donna, much as she tried to look like her.  Her hair was curled the same, she was wearing the same clothes, and she even had that beaming smile that could launch a thousand ships.  It was a clever disguise, but there was one glaring flaw: Kat might have packed on a few pounds in recent months, but they all went to her upper body; Natalie’s all migrated south.  The same booty shorts that her sister had squeezed into were all but painted on her thick thighs, and if anyone got close enough, they would hear the shorts creaking as they fought to contain her bulk.  Likewise, she had to tug her shirt down constantly, lest a tab of tummy flab peeked out from beneath the dark top.

Natalie bounded down to the ring with all the enthusiasm of her more vivacious twin, but by the time she reached it, she was out of breath.  She tried to play it up as having hurried out of the back, but with how much she jiggled with every step she took, it was clear that she was simply out of shape and needed to get back in the gym.  Regardless, she walked up the steps and slipped under the ropes, where she strutted up to Vanessa and Sadie with a pathetic attempt at her typically sensual stride.

“Sorry I’m late,” the diva purred as she flipped her hair over her shoulder, “but you simply can’t rush perfection.”

Vanessa glanced to Sadie, who shrugged her shoulders and told the befuddled referee, “We’ve got our girl—let’s have a match!”

The blonde bully then turned to the late arrival and growled at her, “You’re only a last resort, ‘Kat’—that big butt of yours better make you a good anchor, or so help me God.”

Natalie gulped, her nerves fraying as she stood in front of the whole world with her pudge on display.  She wished Kat had opted to wear pants that evening; her ass would still look enormous, but at least it would not be hanging out for everyone to see.  It was all she could to do keep her cool and not immediately run for cover, but the look in Sadie’s eyes was enough to keep her going.  Her blonde tormentor sneered contemptibly at her, like she was less than nothing, and she was sure that plenty of people in the audience were thinking the same thing.

Why?  Why did that notion make her head spin and thighs squirm?  What was broken inside her to want people to treat her like a fat piece of trash?  Whatever it was, she would need to contemplate on it later, as the match was set to start, and the last thing she wanted was to get caught in the action too soon.  Natalie slipped through the ropes as Elizabeth held them open for her teammates, only to squeal in surprise when the Brit swatted her rotund rump with a scepter.

“I can’t believe you let yourself go, you little tart, but I can’t say I hate the results,” Elizabeth hissed to Natalie as the diva rubbed her sore backside. “Maybe if you keep blimping up, it’ll give the rest of us a chance to shine.  Can’t hog all the screen time if you’re looking like a hog, eh?”

Even if Natalie had a retort, it would have gone unheard, as her tormentor turned to face off against Kaylee Grey.  Elizabeth was right about one thing—she was only going to keep fattening up if Sadie had her way.  The Donna twin glanced over to her mistress, who paid her little mind as she focused on the outcome of the match.  Sadie was so hard to read on even the best of days; Natalie had no idea what was running through the blonde’s devious mind.  If she was burning up like her pet pig was, she did not show it, and that only made Natalie more anxious of whatever Sadie might be scheming.


The match was a game of back and forth, as every time Sadie’s team took out a babyface, a heel was taken out in revenge by one of Anzu’s members.  Elizabeth eked out a victory over Kaylee by forcing the girl to tap out, only to be pinned in return by Lora Rose.  The Appalachian native was blindsided and rolled into a small package by Iris Lonergan, who was then beaten into submission by a vengeful La Santa.  Worn out from her bout with Iris, the luchadora was easy pickings for the Red Widow, who got her own when Terra Carter nearly broke the psychopath’s neck in a hold.  Unfortunately, the Canadian Wunderkind had injured her leg in taking down the Widow, which gave Sadie an easy pin.

It all boiled down to Anzu Bonny, a woman who never knew when to quit.  She came at Sadie with everything she had, including a flying elbow drop from the top rope that nearly shattered the blonde’s rib cage.  Sadie proved a resilient foe though, and she nearly had Anzu time and again, but only ever got a 2.9-count in pins.  Finally, as a last-ditch maneuver, she hurled herself from the top rope in a Hail Mary moonsault, only for Anzu to roll away at the last second.  The captain was quick to roll her opponent up for a 3-count, at which point she collapsed against one of the turnbuckles for support.

Sadie crawled out of the ring, battered and beaten to exhaustion, but she still had the strength to shout at a quivering Natalie, “What are you waiting for—the McRib to come back?!  Get in there and finish her off, you useless whale!”

Natalie quickly nodded and slipped into the ring, where she maintained a healthy distance from the ragged Anzu.  Even though the woman looked like she had been through Hell and back, it was impossible to tell if she was truly down for the count.  The diva swallowed a lump in her throat, mustered every ounce of courage in her toneless body, and charged at the prone Anzu, aiming to drive her knee into the captain’s face.  Unfortunately, her fears were validated, and her opponent ducked in time, causing Natalie to crash into the turnbuckles.

Anzu struggled to her feet, staggering in a punch drunk fashion, but she beckoned for Natalie to come at her. “Motte koi, futotta buta,” the pirate queen growled at her cowardly foe.

Once more, Natalie ran at her rival, screeching like a banshee all the way.  Just before she reached Anzu, the diva sprung off the mat and attempted to hit her enemy with a drop kick, only for her heels to be caught in Anzu’s powerful arms.  The captain looked out to the audience and called out, “Uzumaki Ultra!”

The arena lit up as Anzu spun around like a whirlpool and swung Natalie like a ragdoll caught in a typhoon.  She kept this up for a minute straight—plenty of time for the discombobulated diva to lose any sense of direction.  By the time she was finally released and sent flying across the ring, Natalie had no idea what was up or down; she only knew that she had finally gotten off one crazy ride.  Her feet slipped out from her once or twice like a newborn fawn, but she received some help from Anzu, who lifted her up and strung her arms up in the ring ropes.

“You’ve had this coming a long time, ‘Kat’,” Anzu murmured as she got in close to the dazed Natalie. “I’m gonna chop you up into tonkatsu, you sow.”

Even if her arms were not wrapped up in the ropes, Natalie would have been too dizzy to fight back as Anzu tugged her shirt up to just under her plump breasts.  The pirate queen smirked as she reached out and grabbed a handful of the exposed jelly belly, wobbled and sloshed it around, and let it drop over the top of her shorts.  Then, she reared her hand back and gave it a sharp slap that echoed throughout the arena and set Natalie into a jiggling frenzy.  The piercing sting roused the blonde, but there was nothing she could do as Anzu mercilessly chopped at her gut until Natalie’s stomach was pink as a pig’s.

The devastating captain backed away, but only at the referee’s behest; if she had her way, she would have gone slapping Natalie’s fat gut for the rest of the night.  As her portly opponent shakily uncoiled herself from the ropes, Anzu crouched and licked her lips like a wolf that spied easy prey.  And no sooner had Natalie released herself than her fearsome opponent speared her into the turnbuckles again.  When the diva slumped to the mat, belly puffing in and out as she greedily sucked in air, her tormentor grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her out to the middle of the ring without so much as a struggle.

Anzu tossed Natalie face first to the floor like a wet paper towel before draping across her back.  As she locked her arms under the diva’s, she whispered into her crushed opponent’s ear, “I’m going to enjoy hearing you squeal.”

“Wh-Wha—sweeeeee!” Natalie screeched as Anzu flipped over in front of her and arched her back in a torturous Cattle Mutilation hold.  Tears filled her eyes as she fought the pain as much as she could, but with no chance of survival, she frantically slapped the mat, which brought an end to the pain as Anzu released her.

“The winners—Team Anzu!” the ring announcer declared to a chorus of cheers from the fans in the arena.

The team captain stood triumphantly over her fallen foe, nudging the prone Natalie with her boot before rolling her onto her back.  With her belly rising and falling like a bullfrog’s throat, the diva could not have felt any more pathetic if she had tried.  She whimpered as she gingerly touched her stinging stomach, only to pause when Anzu offered her a hand up.  It seemed like a show of good sportsmanship, but what the pirate queen said next dispelled that notion.

“Sadie told us that you are free game now—something about a big angle,” Anzu murmured as she pulled Natalie in for a bear hug. “I don’t know why you’ve let yourself go, but I promise, I’m going to give you plenty of receipts for all the crap you put me through these last few years.”

The diva trembled with fear at that notion, and she stumbled away in a haze of humiliation and pleasure.  This was the most embarrassing thing she had ever had to do in the GWF, and if Sadie got her way, it would not be the last.  Her mind reeled with the possibilities, knowing that at least Elizabeth and Anzu were somewhat in on the concept.  Who else had Sadie recruited, and what had she told them?

Natalie could not dwell on the concept for long, because as she shakily made her way up the ramp, Sadie reappeared again—with the real Kat Donna in tow.  A pair of handcuffs dangled from one of her sister’s wrists, and her cheeks were splotched from where duct tape covered her lips.  None of that mattered though, as she had a fire in her eyes like never before, and it was all focused on Natalie.

“You scheming, backstabbing tramp!” Kat screeched at her twin. “You steal my place in the match, you make a mockery of me, and you go and lose the match for us?!”

“Natalie, I…I can explain!” the diva whimpered as she froze in her tracks.

“You don’t need to explain anything—we’re through!” huffed Kat as she crossed her arms under her prodigious chest. “You’ve always been like this: always trying to take what’s mine, from toys to boys, but no more!  From now on, this bitch is a solo act—you’ll just have to find someone else to leech off of, because I’m done with you.”

The sportier of the sisters turned her back and stormed backstage, leaving Natalie with her chief tormentor.  Sadie glowered at her with a look that could melt ice, and she snapped her fingers loud enough for the fans in the cheap seats to hear.  The diva cringed before slowly shuffling her way up the ramp until she was face to face with her team leader.  There was a hunger in Sadie’s eyes, a hunger that Natalie only saw when they were alone together.

“This is going to hurt you a lot more than it does me, but it’s for your own good,” the blonde growled just before slamming a knee into Natalie’s gut.  As soon as the diva keeled over, Sadie brought her to the ground and draped her across her knee, where she proceeded to swat Natalie’s bulbous backside again and again.  Her chops were nowhere near as sharp as Anzu’s, but they were far more powerful, to the point that it felt like the Donna twin was being paddled.

As the audience lit up with cheers, jeers, and applause, Natalie never felt lower—or more aroused.  Her thunder thighs clenched together and she grit her teeth to try and fight back the heat building inside her.  She never had a partner torment her like this, on such a massive scale, and she wondered how far this would go before it came to an end…if it ever ended at all, of course.

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((Merry Christmas, and Happy 2nd Birthday to the best ongoing wrestling WG story online!  To celebrate two years of Superheavyweight Champion, I packed this chapter to the brim with action.  It may not have any of the WG goodness of past chapters, but hey, this story about wrestlers was bound to have wrestling in it at some point, right?  I hope you all have a wonderful holiday, and enjoy this lovely present from yours truly!))


At last, the penultimate match of the night arrived: Shinobu Misawa vs. Ananya Patel in an Alley Fight for the Women’s Championship, which meant one fall only and all action was no holds barred. Were it not for the stipulation, most people would have blown off the match as just another win for the indomitable Shinobu, who had upheld her promise of defending the title until Mickey Ramone returned to TV.  All eyes were on Ananya going into the match, for her meteoric rise to the title picture was unprecedented; not three months in the promotion, and the former weightlifter was challenging for one of its most prestigious titles.  It was ludicrous to think that she would take it, but anything was possible in the Global Wrestling Federation.

The Alley Fight was to take place in the ring, but with a few key modifications to it and the surrounding area.  First, the padding underneath the canvas was removed, leaving only a wooden panel to cushion any falls.  Second, the crew peeled away the mats circling the ring, exposing the concrete floor of the arena.  Finally, all the crowd barriers at ringside had their foam covers taken away, which left only the cold steel rails between the audience and the wrestlers.  It was like stepping back in time to an era when safety regulations meant little in the face of a brawl.

As if to add to the aesthetic, a microphone was lowered from the rafters as the announcer stepped into the center of the ring.  He told the eager fans, “Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall, and there will be no holds barred.  And now, the participants: from Haryana, India, weighing one hundred thirty-six pounds—Ananya Patel!”

A triumphant trumpet blared through the arena before a Bollywood-inspired remix announced her arrival.  Ananya stormed out onto the entrance ramp in a far different outfit than the audience was used to; she had traded in her more traditional garb for a pair of military pants, a black turtleneck with the sleeves ripped off, and fingerless gloves.  Her long, braided hair had been shorn down to a short mohawk that ran down to her shoulders.  A sinister snarl spread across her lips as she flexed her powerful arms for the fans before she stomped down to the ring like a force to be reckoned with.

After Ananya climbed into the ring and sat against one of the posts, the announcer glanced back at the entrance ramp and pronounced, “And her opponent: from Osaka, Japan, weighing in at two hundred-one pounds—the defending Women’s Champion, Shinobu Misawa!”

The fans in attendance lit up and cheers filled the arena as the reigning champion’s J-pop music played.  True to form, Shinobu was cosplaying for her match—in this case, dressing as a certain South Town Hero.  A baseball cap with the words ‘Fatal Fighter’ adorned her bleach-blonde hair, and though she managed to squeeze her doughy middle into a sleeveless t-shirt, it clung to every inch of her thick, bubbly belly.  Over the shirt was a red vest with a white star on the back, and despite lacking any definition, her puffy arms were also on display.  This led down to a pair of jeans that might as well have been jeggings, so tight were they on her legs and hips.  It was a far cry from the usual anime-inspired get-ups, and fit much more with the brawl ahead.

“Hey, come on, come on!” Shinobu called out to the audience as she punched at the air while making her way down to the ring.  The Women’s Championship belt was wrapped around her girthy hips, a much tighter fit than it was just a few months prior, but the fans did not care.  Despite her rapidly rising weight, the Osakan native had maintained the same level of stamina and strength since she first won the title.  She had faced all comers from the Women’s Division, across all GWF brands, but no one could compete on her level; that was the sentiment as she removed her belt and waltzed up to Ananya.

As soon as she stepped foot in the ring though, her taller opponent was on top of her, punching her in the gut again and again.  The bell was rung just as Ananya grabbed Shinobu by the back of the head and hurled her to the mat, where she proceeded to stomp on her shorter foe’s belly.  It was the same level of ruthless aggression that the former weightlifter had shown in the last few weeks—tearing through anyone that dared to get in her way.  It was an effective way of getting over with the crowd while covering her flaws as a wrestlers; the bookers were doing a solid job of building her up as a one-woman wrecking crew.

Eventually, Shinobu was able to get her hands up, grab Ananya’s heel, and yank the woman to the floor.  She rolled away, clutching at her stomach, and glared daggers into the neophyte as both women got back to their feet.  They both knew that Ananya was incorporating stiff blows into her repertoire, but Shinobu had not expected anything quite like this.  It took her back to her days in the dojo, when she was trained under brutal conditions that made a warrior out of her and honed her into the wrestling machine she was today.

Ananya charged at Shinobu once more, but this time, the diminutive woman was ready.  She crouched down before springing into the air and slamming her feet into Ananya’s stomach with a drop kick.  Her towering opponent went staggering back and over the ropes, helped by a clothesline from a vengeful Shinobu.  The former weightlifter hit the concrete hard, and it was only thanks to a quick tuck and roll that she did not get hurt.

As the crowd cheered the champion, Shinobu hopped over the ropes and stood on the ring apron—the only way she could look down on Ananya.  She crossed her arms under her plump chest and waved one hand towards her as she told her downed foe, “Get serious!”

A bestial snarl came from Ananya as she scrambled to her feet and snatched the boastful Shinobu by the chubby ankle.  Before the Osakan realized what was happening, her powerful opponent yanked her off-balance and sent her tumbling onto the hard apron.  Shinobu clutched at her back in pain, but Ananya was not finished with her just yet.

“You want serious?  You’ve got serious!” the Haryanian native growled as she scooped up Shinobu and hurled her onto the concrete.

The cosplay queen of the ring felt the air leave her lungs in an explosive gasp, and she struggled to catch her breath as Ananya towered over her.  She managed to buy herself a little time by crawling feebly toward one of the railings for support, but her ribs ached and her back felt like it was full of spiders.  It had been years since a match had pushed her so violently—which also meant she never had the chance to cut loose.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay down,” Ananya taunted as she loomed over her fallen foe. “You don’t want any of this.”

“I…I think I do,” Shinobu huffed as air returned to her. “Bring it on.”

Gritting her teeth, Ananya stormed over to Shinobu, only for the Osakan to grab her by the hem of her shirt and yank her down onto the railing.  The monstrous weightlifter grunted as her head came to within an inch of hitting the steel, though she played it up for the crowd and fell to the floor, clutching her forehead.  Shinobu was not done though, as she took Ananya by the collar and tugged her to her feet.  The wily champion quickly shucked off her vest and wrapped it over her opponent’s head before bending her over and punching her again and again in the stomach.  The vicious assault was capped off with Shinobu tripping Ananya over the ring steps and onto the floor once again.

As the stout woman climbed back into the ring, Ananya ripped off the vest and glowered at her opponent.  This match had to end as soon as possible—not for her sake, but for Shinobu’s.  Dave’s instructions had been perfectly clear: put the champion away by any means necessary; even if it was not clean, the referee would count it all the same.  The Alley Fight had been chosen because it was the perfect opportunity to fight dirty and Ananya could play to her strengths.  She could unleash all the carnage management wanted, and none would be the wiser.

Ananya slid under the bottom rope and stood face to face with the woman she wished would be her mentor.  Shinobu had a sly smirk spread across her chubby cheeks, which most people would have written off as cocky, but the former weightlifter knew better.  She had done her research on the Osakan, and whenever Shinobu got that look on her face, that meant she was having the time of her life.  That made it all the harder for Ananya, who had to fight the urge to call the match then and there.

“You don’t know when to quit, do you?” she asked Shinobu, who replied with a shake of her head.

“This would be a warm-up in my old dojo,” the shorter woman assured, bumping her blubbery gut against Ananya. “You will have to do better than that.”

The Haryanian’s teeth clenched as she struck Shinobu across the face with a backhanded slap.  As her doughy opponent’s eyes watered up and her cheek turned bright red, Ananya asked, “Better?”

Shinobu responded by giving a sharp kick to the taller woman’s shin.  Ananya screeched and clutched at her leg, but all her flabby foe had to say was, “Again.”

The slap that followed was so sharp, even the fans in the cheap seats had to wince.  Shinobu stumbled backwards from the blow, and when she put her fingers to her lips, she found blood on their tips.  Still, she showed no rage or anger—only a delirious grin that would befit an axe murderer.  The Osakan licked her lips and spat blood onto the mat before smiling fiendishly, her teeth stained crimson from the cut on her lips and in her mouth.

“Good!” she declared. “Good, good, good!  Give me more!”

Ananya felt her heart racing a mile a minute as Shinobu egged her on, no doubt thinking that this was just an ordinary match.  Fighting the veteran like this reminded her of why she admired Shinobu so much: even though she had packed on sixty-odd pounds since the summer, she fought with all the ferocity of a wildcat; if only Dave Ericson could look beyond his champion’s belly, he would see a star athlete any promotion would be proud to host.  As it was, she had a job to do, no matter how much she hated it, but that did not mean she could not have a little fun until then.

“You want more?  I’ll give you more, you little psychopath,” Ananya growled before booting Shinobu in the gut once again.

When the doughy girl keeled over, her taller opponent took her by the wrist and dragged her towards one of the posts.  Ananya built up enough speed to hop up to the second rope, then the third rope, and then leap from on high and toss Shinobu over her shoulder.  The Osakan went flying ass over teakettle before landing in the center of the ring with a sickening thud, her plump body just barely cushioning the blow.

As Shinobu writhed in pain, Ananya quickly crawled over to her fallen foe, grabbed her blonde locks, and slammed her face into the mat.  She did this again and again, barking each time, “Still want more?!  Still think you can take me?!  I’ll end you, you worthless piece of trash!”

Her savage screams were cut short by Shinobu punching her in the nose, and the former weightlifter heard a sickening crunch rattle through her skull.  Blood streamed out of her broken nose, but Ananya’s lips spread into a manic grin to match Shinobu’s as she released the butterball from her grasp.  Both women staggered back to their feet and glowered at each other while circling around the ring like two lions fighting for supremacy, all while they were showered with cheers from the bloodthirsty fans.

Ananya reached down to her waist, undid a spiky belt, and cracked it like a whip at her side, while Shinobu, lacking any standard weapons, crouched down in anticipation.  The belt snapped once more before its owner lashed out and struck Shinobu in the hands as the champion threw them in front of her face.  Squealing in pain, the doughy girl turned her back to Ananya, which made for the perfect target for the savage foe.  The former weightlifter struck once, twice, three times, raking across Shinobu’s roly-poly back with each blow, and she would have gone for a fourth, had the referee not intervened.

Boos rained down on Patricia Nicholson as she stepped between Shinobu and Ananya, but if they could only hear what she was saying to the Haryanian, they might have rioted.  The veteran referee got up close to Ananya, as if telling her to back off from Shinobu, but what she said was the exact opposite.  She whispered to the neophyte wrestler, “I just got word from the back.  Put an end to this now, before the two of you kill each other.”

Reality came crashing back down on the reluctant turncoat, and Ananya was reminded of why she was there.  She stoically nodded and tossed her belt aside as she shoved Patricia out of her way, grunting, “Just do your job, and I’ll do mine.”

Shinobu was catching her breath against the ropes when Ananya stormed over and yanked her back into the middle of the ring by the heel.  The towering woman grabbed the bottom of chunky competitor’s shirt and violently ripped it off her flabby middle, exposing both her pale love handles and the back rolls forming where her overtaxed bra bit into her shoulders.  More important to the audience, however, were the rosy welts forming where Ananya had whipped Shinobu with her studded belt.  Coupled with the bruises forming all over her body, the stout woman looked like she had been through hell and back.

Ananya rolled the torn shirt in her hand as Shinobu squirmed fruitlessly at her feet, putting on a convincing punch-drunk act.  With a defeated sigh, the former weightlifter got down on one knee and wrapped the shirt tight around Shinobu’s throat.  Though it was not tight enough to actually cut off air, the woman writhed against Ananya as she struggled to get free before she passed out.  It was an act as old as time itself: she could either fight her way free, power her way over to the ropes, or pretend to pass out, only to come from behind.  What she did not anticipate, however, was what Ananya said next.

“I’m sorry,” the Haryanian whispered solemnly. “I love you.”

Before Shinobu could wrap her head around that, she heard Patricia shout to the timekeeper, “Ring the bell!  Ring the fucking bell—she tapped!”

Suddenly, as the bell rang and ended the match, Shinobu’s struggles turned violently real as she fought to get out from under Ananya.  The former weightlifter obliged as she quickly backed away and gawked at the referee in disbelief.  She glanced back down at Shinobu, and the doughy woman stared dumbfounded back at her.

 “Shinobu, I swear, I had no idea,” Ananya lied through her teeth, even as Patricia took her by the wrist and dragged her away. “I had no idea!”

As the guilty referee made a speedy getaway to the back and Ananya took the belt from the officials at ringside, the shocked announcer declared amidst the cacophony of boos, “Here is your winner and new Women’s Champion—Ananya Patel!”

While her opponent limped up the entrance ramp, belt hanging limply from her hands, Shinobu propped herself up against one of the turnbuckles and pulled herself to her weary feet.  The thrill of battle was dying fast, replaced by the numbness of betrayal and the pain of her battered body.  Her fat gut pooched in and out as she gasped for air, her mind struggling to comprehend everything that just happened.  Any way you cut it, there was no denying the cold, hard truth: she had just been screwed out of the title—the same title she had sworn to hold onto until Mickey returned.

Someone was going to pay dearly for this, and she started with the surrounding area.  Running on pure rage, Shinobu slid out of the ring and charged at the announcer’s table, giving the team a mere second to get away.  The blubbery brawler screamed incoherently as she tore the collapsible desk apart, smashed monitors and cameras, and smashed a chair offered up by a sympathetic fan.  The audience cheered her on, but it was little consolation to her as she felt her heart shatter into pieces.

“Gomen-nasai, Mickey,” Shinobu sobbed as she collapsed onto the ring steps. “Gomen-nasai.”


The backstage had been hectic earlier, but after the Women’s Championship match, it was downright pandemonium.  Everyone was talking about what had just happened, from the producers to the production assistants, and especially the wrestlers.  It was not the first time someone had been screwed out of a title, but it was first one in a long while, which had people running scared or screaming at the production team.  If this could happen to someone like Shinobu Misawa, no one was safe, not even the top performers on the roster.

Ananya was peppered with rapid-fire questions as she trudged backstage, but she ignored all of them as she muscled her way to the locker room.  She did not stop for a shower nor to change her clothes; all she wanted to do was get out as soon as possible.  Only when she reached the safety of her car and peeled out of the parking lot did she allow herself to lose her composure, which she did by screaming at the top of her lungs and punching the steering wheel until she broke the handle.  She was the champion now, but at what cost?  The fans would never get behind her, no one backstage would trust her, and Shinobu would hate her forever.  In one fell swoop, she became the most hated woman in wrestling, with nowhere else to go but all the way down…

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((And we're back with a new chapter to help ring in the new year and new decade!  It's time for some pay-off for the events at Global War, and spoiler alert: Ananya and Natalie are in for a rough time.  If you're worried that these last few chapters haven't had enough WG goodness, fret not, as the next batch of chapters will focus on everyone's favorite eating holiday.  For now, let me know what you think, and enjoy!))


The shows after a pay-per-view always held so much promise: fresh feuds were started, new gimmicks were born, and fresh-faced superstars made their debuts.  While many of these would lead to nothing, they were hot and exciting at least that night, and the night after Global War was no exception.  More than the usual surprises, most people were tuning in to see the fallout of the scandalous Women’s Championship match between Shinobu Misawa and Ananya Patel.  The official word was that Shinobu had tapped out when Ananya was strangling her, but anyone with two eyes and a working brain knew that was not the case.  The fan-favorite champion had been unceremoniously stripped of her title, and someone had to answer for it.

That someone was Ananya Patel, who had arrived in Chicago looking and feeling like trash.  She had spent the night locked up in her hotel room with a twelve-pack of beer and her sorrow to keep her company, which then devolved into vomiting until she had nothing left to give.  Sleeping off the turmoil did nothing for her, and the new champion could not stomach so much as a crumb as she blearily made her way through the day.  When she finally showed up for Monday Night War, Ananya looked less like a champion and more like a flu victim; only the impeccable talents of the make-up department made her halfway presentable.

It was a good thing too, as she was on first for the evening.  The booking committee had taken pity on her and given her the night off; all Ananya needed to do was get out and deliver a promo to the audience.  Simple enough, except for the fact that the audience wanted nothing less than her head on a platter, and they were making that extremely vocal.  This was made apparent as she watched the monitor at the gorilla position, where she saw signs that read ‘Die, Ananya, Die’ and ‘Ananya Screwed Shinobu’.  There was not a single supporter in the entire arena, not even backstage, as everyone avoided her like the plague.  All but one person, that is.

“Now, you’ve read the script, right?” asked Dave Ericson as he stood by Ananya. “You just need to go out there and say the lines, okay?”

“Just go out and say the lines,” the weightlifter mumbled. “Got it.”

“It’s going to be rough, but don’t let them intimidate you,” assured the owner of the GWF. “They’re just butthurt marks, but they’ll get over it in time.  All you need to do is get out there and show them that you have what it takes, and they’ll forget all about Shinobu Misawa.”

If only Ananya had as much confidence as her boss.  Her stomach was doing somersaults as she waited to be called out, and it was all she could do to not run and hide.  Dave had tried to convince her that the audience would come around, but there was no winning them over.  Not only had Ananya stolen a win from one of the most well-liked champions in recent times—she had taken the belt that Shinobu swore, on national TV, to defend until Mickey Ramone came back to the promotion.  She would have better luck getting water from a stone than getting an audience behind her.

Finally, it was time to make her appearance.  With the championship belt slung over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, the Haryanian slapped herself in the face to get herself going and stormed through the curtains.  Instantly, she was hit by a wall of noise as boos rang down on her from every corner of the stadium—so much so that the jeers were indistinguishable.  Ananya kept her eyes on the ring ahead of her and did her best to tune out the crowd by the entrance ramp, whose taunts were the most understandable, unfortunately for her.

“You’re a thief, Patel!  A goddamn thief!” declared an older, scruffier man.

“You suck, Patel!” a little kid sneered as he gave Ananya two thumbs down.

“You’ll burn in hell for this!” barked a grandmother, who proceeded to spit on the new champion’s boot.

Ananya ignored all these and more as she approached the ring, marched up the steel steps, and slipped through the ropes.  The announcer handed her a microphone, but she took a deep, steadying breath before she began.  She glanced around the arena at the sea of hatred around her: so many people who wanted her dead, who wished nothing but the absolute worst on her, and she had to make her voice heard.  It would be difficult even for a veteran, and the former weightlifter only had a few months experience under her belt.  To call it Sisyphean would be an understatement.

“I just—I’m not—that is,” she fumbled as she tried to stick to the script.  It was so hard to concentrate as vitriol rained down around her.  Ananya squeezed her eyes shut and clenched the microphone so tight that it almost cracked.  Did they not understand that she never wanted this—that all she wanted was a match against her icon?  No, all that mattered to them was shutting her down and burying her with whatever they had.  When it became too much to bear, the veins bulged in her forehead and she opened her eyes to reveal a blood vessel had popped in her left eye, filling it with crimson red.

“Shut the hell up, you ungrateful bastards!” Ananya roared at the top of her lungs. “I don’t give a damn about you, Mickey Ramone, or your precious little Shinobu!  The only thing that matters to me is right here, where it belongs—the Women’s Championship.  You want to know why I screwed over Shinobu Misawa?  Because I was tired of seeing a fat, little nerd run around with the belt like she was the best in the world!

“And I’ve got news for you,” the enraged woman continued, her voice straining against the audience. “Shinobu ain’t here tonight!  She’s too busy licking her wounds and eating her feelings, and couldn’t be assed to show up even for a rematch!  I am the Women’s Champion now—the best in the whole damn world—and you little shits just have to deal with it, because there’s not a single woman in that locker room that can take me down.  Anyone that thinks they can do better can bite me!”

Glaring around the arena as the hate flowed like never before, Ananya growled, “Eat shit and die, you assholes.”

With that, the enraged champion threw her microphone to the ground and stormed out of the ring to the most bitter heat she had ever heard from a wrestling audience.  If the audience wanted her dead before, they now wanted to piss on her corpse afterwards; for better or worse, she had done her job.  Ananya felt nothing as a full water bottle hit her in the head and more people spat on her as she passed up the ramp.  Before she could vanish behind the curtains, the Haryanian gave the antagonistic crowd one last look and two middle fingers to voice her disdain for them.

Everyone backstage gave her a wide berth, for fear that Ananya would bash someone’s head in with her belt.  The only one who dared get in her way was the man in charge, who looked like he was ready to rip his new champion’s head off.

“Are you out of your damn mind?!” Dave roared, his face redder than a tomato. “I told you to stick to the script, not to cuss out the entire audience!  Do you have any idea what this will do for our network deal?  Our sponsors?!  You could have—”

The old man never got to finish that sentence, as Ananya delivered a sharp kick to his crotch with her steel-toed boot.  Dave hit the floor like a wet paper towel and howled incoherently while everyone crowded around him.  Ananya stood over him with gritted teeth and the belt in hand, as if ready to whip the CEO if he dared say another word.

“Screw the network, screw the sponsors, and screw you, Dave,” the former weightlifter snarled. “This is all on you, old man—remember that.”

Point made, Ananya carved a path of destruction through the backstage area like a walking firestorm.  She knocked equipment over, shoved people aside like refuse, and even flipped over a table at craft services.  In a repeat of the night before, the champion quickly gathered her bag from the locker room and head to her car, not wanting to spend a second more at the show now that she had played her role.

When she planted herself behind the wheel, Ananya felt the evening catch up to her and feed the feelings roiling inside her.  There was a pleasant sense of relief that came from speaking her mind so freely, but this was brought back down with the dread of what she had done.  To call it ‘career suicide’ did not do it justice; she had just done to her career what Yusupov did to Rasputin.  It would be nothing short of a miracle if she had a career in the morning, if it even took that long to decide.  Most curiously of all, the gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach was gone, replaced by a ravenous hunger that only a starving man could match.

“Fuck it,” Ananya murmured as she burned rubber on her way out of the parking garage, “we’re getting Chinese.”


As the fervor died down backstage and Dave regained the ability to talk and walk, a mandate was issued: if anyone else dared to go off-script for even a second, they would be fired on the spot.  It was a move that made the rest of the show stilted and lifeless, but at least a riot was prevented and the GWF could show its supporters that they could play it safe.  Everything went off without a hitch as the show progressed, and by the second hour, the crowd had mostly cooled down from the boiling point at the start of the program.  This made it the perfect time for the next big payoff from the night before—Natalie Donna stealing her sister’s spot in the Global War match and losing said match for her team.

“Joining us now is the Women’s Intercontinental Champion, Sadie Storme,” announced Jolene Campano, one of the GWF’s interviewers as the bodacious blonde stepped into view. “Sadie, the people want to know—what does last night’s debacle mean for the Storme Troop?”

Sadie bit her lip and furrowed her brow as she answered, “Well, Jolene, it pains me to say, but the Storme Troop is dead: Maxine’s gone out to Philadelphia, Kat’s not talking to Natalie, and Natty betrayed my trust last night at Global War.  But I built the Storme Troop into the fighting force it was, and I can do it all over again—starting with the weakest link.”

The blonde glanced over her shoulder and barked, “Natty, get your fat ass over here!”

Natalie Donna shuffled into frame with all the meekness of a frightened puppy, a far cry from the sensual swagger she normally carried.  The strawberry blonde looked absolutely ridiculous otherwise: sweatband over her brow, sports bra that only served to emphasize how little her breasts had grown, hot pants that could only contain half of her plump backside, and fuzzy wristbands and leg warms, all in a gaudy, neon pink.  Her hands were behind her back, which only enhanced the swell of her stomach as it pooched over the waistband of her overtaxed shorts.  Thunder thighs thick as telephone poles wiggled together as she sheepishly stood in front of the camera, knowing what was to come.

Sadie glowered at her and asked, “What’ve you got behind your back, Natty?”

“Nothing,” the Donna twin mumbled as she tried in vain to shift away from her mistress, only for Sadie to snatch away the candy bar she had been nibbling on off-screen.

“Are you kidding me, Natty?!  I turn my back on you for two seconds, and you’re shoving candy in your mouth?” Sadie snipped at her pudgy plaything, who shrank back as her tormentor bonked her on the head with the chocolate. “This is exactly why we’re doing this in the first place!”

“I’m sssssorry!” Natalie squeaked as her legs trembled with fear and excitement.  Even though Sadie was berating her on live TV, the diva felt herself getting hotter by the second.

Grunting in disapproval, Sadie turned her attention back to Jolene and told her, “This is what I was talking about.  Natalie was never one of our strongest members, but she could always be counted on for a quick save or a distraction with her bombshell bod.  Now, there’s nothing quick about her, and that bombshell has exploded.  I mean, look at this.”

The blonde bully slapped Natalie’s belly, eliciting a squeal of surprise from the portly princess, before spinning her around and bouncing the diva’s cheeks in her hand.  Natalie was fit before her hunger got the better of her, but after skipping out on the gym so much, she had lost much of the tone and definition that kept her glamorous.  As a result, every new pound on her was soft and flabby, making her look that much more out of shape.

“Disgusting,” Sadie spat as she turned Natalie around once again. “That’s why I’m taking charge and putting Natty on a strict diet and exercise regimen.  If she really wants to get back into the title picture, then she needs to show me that she wants it.”

“Well, that’s mighty generous of you, Sadie,” Jolene remarked, a little Southern twang sneaking into her voice. “Natty, are y’all up for the challenge?”

Natalie nodded enthusiastically, her soft cheeks bunching up into a double chin every time. “I am!  I’m tired of p-p-people treating me like I’m just eye-candy, so I’ll d-d-d-do whatever it takes to become champion.”

“Then you better start running, because this candy just earned you a lap around the arena,” Sadie snarked. “Now get that fat ass in gear and move, move, move!”

“Suey!” Natalie squealed hoggishly when her tormentor gave a sharp slap to her gelatinous rump, and she ran off-screen as fast as she could.  The diva ran down the hall and around a corner, where she leaned up against the wall while waiting for Sadie to finish the interview.  For running such a short distance, it was pathetic how much she huffed and puffed to catch her breath; it was a testament to how little exercise she was getting these days.  Unfortunately, even if she wanted to get back into the gym, it had to be done with Sadie’s permission, and even then, she would not be allowed to go for very long.

While waiting for her mistress, Natalie glanced down the hall and felt her heart sink to the bottom of her stomach.  Walking her way were Anzu Bonny, Elizabeth Knox, and Lora Rose, three of the women from the Global War match the night before; two of whom had mocked her weight gain.  Each of the three had food in hand and a smirk on their faces.

“My, my, Natalie—that’s quite the look,” Elizabeth purred in her posh London accent. “You look like you stepped right out of one of my nan’s workout videos.”

“I reckon that this pig could do with one o’ them videos right about now,” the Appalachian Lora chuckled.

Anzu smirked and licked her lips as she looked Natalie up and down with a wolfish gleam in her eyes. “Shame that Sadie won’t let her,” the pirate queen taunted, “but her gain is our gain too.”

“What d-d-do you want?” Natalie asked, feeling tiny as a mouse and wide as a house among the three beauties.  Her eyes glanced between them and the food in hand: pizza and a fully-loaded sandwich with Anzu, chicken wings and a towering burger with Lora, and macaroni and cheese and a stack of cookies with Elizabeth.  It was enough to make the distressed diva drool, even though Sadie had topped her off before they came to the show.

“To test you,” Anzu answered as she stepped in close to Natalie, close enough for the strawberry blonde to get a whiff of the greasy, cheesy pizza. “Sadie said you can’t put your fork down anymore; I want to see if that’s true.”

Elizabeth leaned up against the wall on Natalie’s other side and explained, “So, it’s really quite simple: if you don’t want to eat, don’t eat; if you do, then you need to eat everything we have here.”

Natalie gulped around a lump in her throat as she looked around for any lifeline that might pull her out of this.  Her gaze fell on Lora, who she was certain she had never wronged. “Lora, p-p-p-please…I thought we were friends!”

“Yeah, we were, ‘til I found out y’all screwed my boyfriend while I was over in Europe,” Lora sneered as she wafted the chicken wings under Natalie’s nose. “So when I found out Sadie was done covering for ya, I decided to take my chances with these two.”

The terrified twin had no idea what to do as the temptress trio closed in around her; even if she could run, they would likely catch up to her in a heartbeat or tell Sadie what had happened.  What would the blonde do to her if she found out about this?  If she found out that Natalie had turned down food, she might stuff the poor diva until she popped like a balloon.  At the same time, cowing to these three now would mean they would only do it again in the future, which meant there would be no escape from this hell she found herself in.  She wracked her brain for an answer, but her decision was all but made up for her when Anzu crammed half a slice of pizza in her mouth.

“Eat,” the captain commanded, and against her better judgment, Natalie did just that.  As the trio cackled malevolently, the diva gobbled up the pizza, fearing there was no end to this rabbit hole.

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((At long last, something I'm sure everyone has been waiting for: a definitive timeline of events up to the end of October!  It's amazing how much has changed since the start of this story: tons of characters have been introduced, girls have gone up and down in weight, and the story has gotten much bigger than I ever anticipated.  And the crazy part is that it's only a little over halfway through the year, in-canon.  Once I finish the story, I will provide a complete timeline of the entire epic--and in the meantime, I'm going to work on some character summaries, which will include their weights as time goes on.  Enjoy!))




1.       Mickey Ramone decides to bring back the Superheavyweight Championship and be its first new holder.  Her boyfriend, Raymundo Valdez, helps her pitch this to the head of the Global Wrestling Federation, Dave Ericson.  Mickey must reach the Superheavyweight class within a year.

2.       Mickey goes on hiatus and has a weigh-in with the Ericsons watching.  She has pictures taken for documentation, and Amanda Ericson expresses her disdain for this concept.

3.       A day in the life for Mickey: eating through a massive breakfast and exercising at the local gym.



4.       Mickey and Ray watch a battle royal for the vacant Women’s Championship, where Shinobu Misawa outlasts other competitors and wins the title.  Shinobu pledges to hold the title until Mickey can return.  KC Skye promises they will make a surprise visit to Mickey, unaware of her plan to fatten up to the new weight class.



5.       On the day she plans to hit 200 lbs., Mickey celebrates with a breakfast of donuts in bed.  KC and Shinobu drop by her New Mexico apartment, and she explains her plan to the two of them.

6.       KC and Shinobu stay for Mickey’s lunch, which consists of eating two of everything Ray makes for her.  The two visitors find their own appetites bolstered by the display, and all three end the meal with heavily stuffed bellies.  At the same time, Amanda and her husband, Levi Hunter, discover that she is pregnant again.

7.       The Storme Troop, a heel faction consisting of Sadie Storme, Maxine Kuhn, and Natalie and Katherine Donna, arrive in New Mexico.  Sadie has been fattening Maxine, her girlfriend of the last couple years, and promises to fill her up when they get to their hotel.  Once there, Sadie stuffs Maxine until she’s too full to move, and reveals that she’s been going to GWF management behind Maxine’s back to hold her down and keep her under her thumb.  Meanwhile, Shinobu decides to start plumping up as well, and KC decides to act as her coach to make sure she doesn’t gain enough to get her in trouble.



8.       Mickey and Ray have a playful day together and try on clothes that are far too tight for the two of them.  Ray surprises Mickey with cruise tickets for their anniversary.

9.       Sadie films a button-popping video with Maxine before leaving for dinner with the Donna Twins, unaware that KC and Shinobu are at the same restaurant.  After Sadie attacks Mickey, KC assaults her, which prompts Sadie to vow revenge against her.  She gets her revenge after coercing Maxine into “accidentally” breaking KC’s leg during a match later that night.



10.   Mickey and Ray embark on their cruise, with her much fatter and he much fitter in preparation.  Fearing that she might be gain too fast on the cruise, Mickey tries to be good about restraining herself, but she has no such luck on her first day.  Meanwhile, Amanda goes to her OBGYN, where she learns that she is carrying triplets.

11.   While on the cruise, Mickey allows her appetite to go unchecked, which brings her into contact with a mysterious passenger that she swears she recognizes.  The passenger is revealed to be Theresa Hartley, a retired wrestler once known as Queen Heart and one of Mickey’s inspirations.  Levi and Amanda go back to the OBGYN, who prescribes Amanda a medication that will help her with a chemical imbalance, but has some side effects that could be hazardous to her waistline.

12.   Theresa joins Mickey and Ray for breakfast, and as they connect, the couple try to convince her to make a comeback as a manager in the GWF.  As Theresa is nearly three times the woman she once was, she has some concerns holding her back.  The trio enjoy the rest of their trip, and when she gets home, Mickey learns that she put on 25 pounds in two weeks.



13.   Shinobu visits KC as the wounded wrestler recovers at her Little Rock home, and discovers that her friend has put on some pounds while recuperating.  At the same time, Maxine reaches out to Kat Donna for help, as she has been demoted back to one of the GWF’s developmental promotions and she has not heard anything from Sadie.  After overhearing Sadie pass by her door, Kat decides to investigate the leader of the Storme Troop.

14.   Kat enlists Natalie in spying on Sadie, and they learn that their team leader is out on a date with a massive woman.  Watching the date, Kat puts two and two together and reaches out to Maxine to explain that Sadie is cheating on her.  Meanwhile, Natalie finds her appetite aroused as she watches Sadie’s date unfold.

15.   Maxine spirals into depression as she gets the fateful call from corporate that she will be moving out to Philadelphia until she can get her act together and lose some weight.  She binges until she eats everything in her apartment, only stopping when she runs out of food and gets the call from Kat.  After learning that Sadie has abandoned her, she decides to make some changes to herself and starts by showering and cleaning her apartment.

16.   As she gets back into shape, Mickey and Ray attend the North American debut of Mickey’s cousin, Maggie Torres, and her tag team partner, Sharon Goode.  Mickey also bumps into the head of the promotion, an old friend who barely recognizes her now that she’s doubled in weight.

17.   The tag team bout ends with Maggie and Sharon victorious over their competition, instantly making a name for themselves.  Mickey and Ray treat the winners to a dinner out, and Maggie gets a taste for her new favorite drink—a highly caloric beverage called Snake Venom.

18.   The night after the match, Mickey celebrates hitting 300 pounds by having an endless feast, eating until she literally cannot lift her arms to take another bite.  This is helped by Ray, who intentionally keeps her hungry for most of the day beforehand.

19.   The first of two chapters showcasing the dreams of various cast members.  Sharon fantasizes about a wildly obese Maggie as a queen and herself as a lowly chambermaid; Shinobu sees herself back in high school and competing in the annual sports festival, albeit three times bigger than she was back in school; KC sees herself as an injured, grounded harpy getting fatter day by day; Maxine has a wrestling match with Sadie where she sheds all her fat and traps her ex inside it and leaves with the Donna Twins; Amanda panics as she starts a board meeting as a sharp businesswoman and ends it as a bloated, out of shape soccer mom.

20.   Continuing the dreams of the last chapter: Kat Donna sees herself as a doll that Maxine buys and fills with fluff until she’s round; Natalie finds herself back at high school and transformed from one of the popular girls to the fat girl everyone laughs at; Mickey dreams of a feast at a ranch home with all her friends and family, all massively fat; Sadie fantasizes about a farm where all her rivals are fat playthings for her to control; Theresa watches her past exploits in a theater as she helplessly gorges on concession stand goodies.



21.   Theresa’s friend, Carolyn, tries to help her bestie break out of her recent depression by taking her to a local gym under the pretense of looking around.  While there, Theresa learns that they have a wrestling ring in one of the studios, and she sees two amateur wrestlers practicing.  She offers some pointers to the duo, and then accepts an invitation to attend their next class.

22.   Reinvigorated, Theresa starts working out again and attends the wrestling class with Carolyn at her side.  They meet with the two that invited them, Jamie Jacobs and Nina Neverland, and learns that the teacher/coach is her old mentor, Rose Manson.  Rose pulls Theresa aside and pushes her until the former wrestler decides that she wants to get back into the game.

23.   Theresa is introduced to the class and will help train them, but Nina is less impressed by the near-400 pound woman.  The two have an impromptu match, and despite outweighing Nina three to one, Theresa manages to make Nina tap out.  JJ admits to Nina that she might have a crush on Queen Heart.

24.   Now that Amanda is on maternity leave at home, she finds herself growing lazier and bigger by the day.  She sleeps in one Saturday morning, and wakes up only to plant herself in the recliner so she can watch cartoons with her daughters.  Her housekeeper, Heidi, provides breakfast until Amanda eats herself into a food coma—all part of Heidi’s plan to transform Amanda into a more matronly figure.

25.   Maxine comes to the defense of Princess Tiger Lily, one of her peers in Youngblood Wrestling, as the bloated girl is bullied by a few divas on the roster.  Since getting out from under Sadie’s thumb, Maxine has transformed herself, becoming more confident and toning her body.  She offers to take Tiger Lily under her wing in exchange for the girl’s eye for photography.  At the same time, Kat has been keeping tabs on Maxine’s weight loss, ignoring both her and her sister’s gains.

26.   Shinobu makes another visit to KC, who can now walk around on crutches, and they head out to a local festival to take in the sights.  Shinobu finds a stall selling a Japanese delicacy, and the two bond over fried maple leaves.  The two also muse inwardly about their feelings for each other, neither one ready to admit anything just yet.

27.   KC and Shinobu’s outing continues, with both women admiring each other’s bodies with some sly glances.  As they make their way around, KC challenges Shinobu to eat something from every booth they pass by, which ends with her too stuffed to even waddle.  They sit down to catch their breath, and as they rest, Shinobu talks about what sparked her fascination with gaining.

28.   Maggie has trouble fitting into her clothes, and she believes it is due to the faulty laundry machines in her apartment building.  Sharon, however, knows that Maggie’s recent decadence is responsible for the tight clothes.  The two meet Mickey and Ray for brunch, and after some goading, Mickey challenges Maggie to an eating contest.  When Maggie inevitably loses, she is forced to attend a Halloween party with her cousin later that month.

29.   HALLOWEEN BEGINS: Amanda has trouble fitting into her costume for the night, so Levi gives her a hand and gets a feel for how much his wife has gained since the start of her pregnancy.  The two go to the last Monday Night War they’ll be attending until next year, and Amanda can only watch forlornly as she struggles to keep her appetite under control.  Natalie attracts the attention of Sadie, who entrances the diva and convinces her to have some fun later on.

30.   After the show comes to an end, Natalie and Kat go their separate ways, both under false pretenses.  While Natalie sneaks away with Sadie, Kat goes to a local diner and indulges in a monstrous patty melt that brings out hoggish traits she never knew she had.  Meanwhile, Natalie finds herself getting a porcine makeover from Sadie, who promises to stuff the diva until she cannot think straight.

31.   True to her word, Sadie fills Natalie with fast food until the woman is too bloated with grease and salt to even lift a finger.  When she tries to tell Sadie this was a one-time arrangement, the blonde takes compromising pictures of her to make sure Natalie stays under her control as long as possible.  Meanwhile, Amanda unleashes her appetite once she gets back to the privacy of her own home and gorges until she can no longer lift the fork to her mouth, prompting Levi to give her assistance.

32.   Theresa and Carolyn attend a Halloween party with the girls of the wrestling class, and they realize that it’s been a while since they have been to a real party.  They are treated like guests of honor by everyone except Nina.  After a spell, Theresa sits down to rest her massive body, and JJ offers her some sweets.  Only after ingesting a few candies does Theresa realize that they are rich in cannabis, which kickstarts her appetite.

33.   Carolyn joins Theresa in relaxing, and the two indulge in several slices of pizza before Nina decides to playfully taunt them.  The two young mothers point out that Nina is not as thin as she used to be, and the humiliated diva decides to get some payback by convincing the other girls to feed their coaches.  Theresa and Carolyn are filled with food and well wishes from their students, all while Nina indulges her appetite while no one is looking.

34.   After her first trick or treating winds up a disappointment, Shinobu is ready to pack it in, but KC convinces her to do something else with her night.  They decide to go on a test of courage inside an abandoned candy factory, though Shinobu is much more cowardly than KC.  As they venture deeper into the factory, they come across a storeroom full of untouched candy, and they discover that the factory is home to ghoulish creatures called Munchies.

35.   The Munchies have some fun with coaxing Shinobu and KC into glutting themselves with candy, unaware that the more they eat, the fatter they get.  Shinobu snaps out of her trance and tries to convince KC that they need to leave, but KC is led deeper into the factory.  Shinobu follows after her, but the Munchies make it difficult as she eats until her belly touches the floor.  The events of the night are revealed to be a dream after Shinbou stuffed herself sick with candy.

36.   After the Youngblood Wrestling Halloween show, Maxine heads out to a club with the rest of the roster to unwind.  She sneaks away from the action for some peace at the bar, where she is joined by her opponent that evening, Rea Rider.  As they get to talking, Rea expresses interest in Maxine, her body, and how she got to be that way.  Thirsty for some action, Maxine gets intimate with Rea and promises to show her how she got to be so fat.

37.   Maxine takes Rea back to her place, where she helps to ease the girl’s nerves and leads her through the motions.  She gets some food and drinks ready for Rea, and begins to slowly, gently feed her.  As they get more comfortable, Maxine strips and shows Rea what she can expect if she decides to stick with her.  Entranced, Rea begs for it, and Maxine forges a new relationship.

38.   Mickey and Ray get their costumes ready for the Halloween party, and pick up Maggie and Sharon.  Mickey’s costume, though showing off how fat she is, fits perfectly, while Maggie’s is ill-fitting at best.  When they arrive at the party, Maggie is put off to discover that it’s for local feeders and feedees.

39.   After convincing Maggie to stay, the couples go their separate ways.  Maggie, unaware that some of the food has been enhanced for gainers, helps herself to a full plate of the stuff and plenty of drinks.  She accidentally offends Sharon, who is wrapped up in her head over newfound feelings for her friend.  While Sharon stews, Maggie reconnects with her first opponents stateside and is challenged to a drinking contest.

40.   Maggie engages in an Irish cream drinking contest, and her opponent helps shed some light on why people might be into gaining weight.  At the same time, Mickey makes friends with some WG icons making guest appearances, and she reveals a bit more about what got her into this.  By the end of the night, Maggie stumbles out in a stuffed, drunken state, while Mickey comes out feeling good about being able to share in her desires.

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((And now, the first of three Thanksgiving chapters!  The focus is on her heroine as she celebrates a very lonesome Turkey Day, but maybe fate will be kind and send some company her way.  I hope you all enjoy this new chapter, and let me know what you think!))


Thanksgiving had always meant a great deal to Mickey Ramone, even before she had embraced her weight gain fantasies.  It was the one time of year when everyone from her large family could get together, and being a people person, she thrived on all seeing everyone.  She enjoyed playing with the youngest of her cousins, wrestling with the teens, and gossiping with her aunts and uncles.  Having so many people together also meant a wide variety of foods—enough to feed a small army—and Mickey loved to sample a little of everything.  It was the perfect time of year for her, and she wished that she could truly indulge as much as she wanted, but she always had to hold back.

And now, she had the perfect opportunity to indulge but was unable to attend, for fear that a single picture would leak out to the world.  All it would take was one innocent snapshot improperly tagged, and Mickey’s fat ass would be all over the wrestling headlines.  If that happened, there would be no Superheavyweight Championship, no place for her on the roster, and likely no place in the Global Wrestling Federation at all.  Much as she wanted to see her entire extended family, Mickey would have to forego it this year.

To make matters worse, her friends were unable to visit: KC still could not travel due to her leg, Maggie and Sharon would be attending the Ramone/Torres Thanksgiving festivities, and Shinobu had gone radio silent since Global War.  This left Mickey down in the dumps, and no amount of chatting with people over the phone had helped.  All she could do was plant her bulbous backside on the couch, tune out to the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, and plow through her breakfast.  Even though Ray had made a stack of pumpkin pancakes for her, the flavor barely registered to her; Mickey wanted to bury her sorrows in food and nothing more.

“Ustedes música es mala y deberíen sentirte mal!” Mickey barked as a jaunty performance advertising a Broadway production started up.  Normally, she would be mocking it with one of her cousins, but when she was on her own, it was just obnoxious.

“What’s going on, babe?” asked Ray as he poked his head into the room. “Need a refill?”

“Please, and it’s just some shitty song and dance from some rock opera called ‘Sbemail’,” the grumpy woman groused as she downed the last of her mulled cider. “What am I even looking at?  There’s a shirtless luchador running around shouting about a dragon, and there’s this white dude with no arms following him.”

Her boyfriend shrugged his shoulders as he took the glass and put down a small plate piled with bacon and sausage. “They’ll make anything into a Broadway show these days,” he answered. “Be right back—just let me know if you need anything!”

Mickey grunted in return, too busy wallowing in self-pity to properly respond.  She knew there would be sacrifices when she made her agreement with Dave, but she had failed to consider the sheer isolation she would face.  It was a small miracle Ray and she had been able to take their cruise; she was banned from going most anywhere except the gym.  There were moments when she had been able to get out and see friends and family, but they were few and far between.  Once she made her return in March, she would be able to go out in public with neon signs announcing who she was, but until then, the massive woman had to stay cooped up in her apartment.

The one bright side was that this allowed her to focus on her gain, which only rose higher as the days went by.  Mickey had not weighed herself in the last few days, but she knew she was getting ever closer to 400 pounds, something she never would have thought possible outside the stories she had read over the years.  It was awesome in the classical sense and frightening in any sense of the word, as she still had four months to go before she made her big return.  She had kept fit as much as possible, but at the rate she was growing, the mammoth woman would be mightily massive when she came back to the ring.

It was hard to believe that the same time last year, Mickey had been as lithe and limber as the dancers on screen.  Everything was fat and heavy about her, from the thick ring of blubber that wrapped around her neck to cankles that belonged on a mother-to-be.  When she tilted her head down, all she could see was herself; her cantaloupe tits rested proudly atop a balloon of a belly that covered her lap almost to her knees.  If she put her hands down at her sides, they would find her hips and thighs spreading out to take up most of the real estate on the couch.  Even her arms had bloated to the point that she could not keep them perfectly straight, as her bulbous biceps pushed them out at a slight angle.

On a normal day, this might have delighted the gaining girl—she might even have some playtime after her post-breakfast glut.  This was one of the few days where she actually felt trapped inside her body, where she was a prisoner to her pudge.  The tight cling of her clothes did not seem quite so pleasurable, nor did she enjoy the weight of her stomach on her thunder thighs.  It was rare for Mickey to ever have doubts in her plan, but the holiday funk brought them out in droves.

“Pedaza de basura sin valor,” the butterball grunted as she sunk her fingers into her thick middle and squeezed. “This must be what my mom felt like when she was lugging me around.  March can’t come soon enough.”

“Then we get to show the rest of the world just how powerful, sexy, and powerfully sexy you are,” Ray remarked as he wandered into the den.

Mickey glanced over her shoulder as her lover leaned over the couch to kiss her on her chipmunk cheek.  Raymundo had always been her biggest supporter, no matter how hair-brained her plans were; he was always there to lend a hand and make sure everything ran smoothly.  If she got hurt, he was there to patch her up; if she lost, he helped to cheer her up.  Most importantly of all, he was always there with affirmations whenever her doubts nagged at her.

“You think they’ll see that?” Mickey asked softly as her fingers gauged the pile of flab at her waist. “I mean, I love how fat I’ve gotten, but will everyone else?”

Ray put one of his hands on hers and rubbed circles atop her stomach. “I think that anyone that isn’t impressed when you walk down that ramp is going to learn that you are every bit as awesome as you were before.  You are a champion no matter how much you weigh, and people are going to see that.”

A small smile sprouted on Mickey, her first for the day, and she reached out to stroke her boyfriend’s scruffy cheek.  She murmured, “Siempre sabes que decir, amante.”

This earned the plump princess a kiss on the lips, but their moment was paused by their doorbell ringing.  Ray glanced out at the door and then back to his jiggly girlfriend as he asked, “Were we expecting anyone today?”

“Not unless it’s one of the neighbors bringing something by,” Mickey answered with a shrug.

The beefy manager stood up and walked over to the door, smoothing out his apron in the process.  This only caused him to get flour on his hands, and so, not wanting to dirty his polo shirt or khakis, Ray clapped his hands together like two chalkboard erasers.  When he got to the door, he was only slightly cleaner, but that would have to suffice—and judging by who he saw in the peephole, he did not expect this would be an issue.

“Jack!  Connie!” Ray excitedly greeted his old friends.

Jack and Connie Nelson had known Raymundo and Mickey for years, ever since they had all worked together in a small-time promotion out in Georgia.  Once Jack moved out to take over Dare-Devil Wrestling in New Mexico, the couples had been able to meet up much more frequently, especially now that Mickey’s cousin was on the roster.  While her husband enjoyed much more prominence in front of the crowds, Connie proved to be an excellent booker for the promotion, which helped to pull the floundering DDW out of the red and into the green.  Together, the two of them had mentored Mickey and Ray into a power couple that had taken the wrestling world by storm.

“Howdy, Raymundo!” the affable Jack greeted, his mustache crinkling as he smiled warmly.  The beefy man was one of the last great hosses in wrestling—a barrel-chest brute who never backed down from a brawl.  Retirement had seen him change from a roughneck appearance to something closer to a football coach, but anyone that doubted his toughness was in for a reckoning.

“How’re you doing, darling?” Connie asked sweetly, her voice gravelly after decades of cigars, whiskey, and black coffee.  She was a stout woman who moved surprisingly quick for her size, no doubt due to her years of hustling around backstage to make sure everything went off without a hitch.  Her hair was dyed a fiery red, and she was dressed in her finest hockey jersey and jeans; Connie would never be caught in anything less.

“Doing great, especially now that you guys are here,” the much younger Ray answered as he stepped aside.  It was only when he allowed the couple in that he saw they were carrying tubs of food with them. “What’ve you got there?”

Connie gave her protégé a grandmotherly kiss on the cheek before replying, “Well, we got to thinking that you both would have to miss out on a proper Thanksgiving on account of Mickey’s gimmick, and we decided you deserved a little treat for keeping kayfabe alive.”

“We’ve still got a few hours until our own dinner, and the ranch is full up with all the kids and grandkids, so we decided to sneak out for a bit and surprise you,” Jack chuckled. “Hope we’re not interrupting nothing?”

“If anything, you couldn’t have come at a better time,” Ray remarked as he took a couple tubs from Connie. “Mickey’s been feeling pretty glum today—I think you’re really going to cheer her up.”

Just then, Mickey shouted out from the den, “I smell moonshine and fresh leather!”

“Only the finest for the holiday,” Jack retorted as he followed the shout to the other room. “And I see you’ve got your best sweatpants on, Mickey.”

The corn-fed wrestler smirked as she replied, “You only wish you could rock sweatpants like this, viejo loco.”

Jack marveled at Mickey as she hoisted herself off the couch.  He had known her ever since she broke onto the scene, and while he knew she would grow into a superstar, he never expected her to grow like this.  While she was far from the fattest wrestler he had ever seen, she was easily the fattest women’s wrestler; the closest had been a Samoan woman who weighed in at a little over 300 pounds.  Mickey was leaps and bounds beyond her, and if she stuck to her plan, she would be bigger than most of the men in the industry as well.

“You came all this way to see little ol’ me?  You shouldn’t have,” Mickey hummed as she pulled her mentor in for a hug.  It was easier said than done, given how rotund she had become, but Jack still managed to get his arms around her.

“Hey, if you can’t go to the holiday, we’ll bring the holiday to you,” the old man replied before letting go and patting her on the shoulder. “We couldn’t bear the idea of y’all having to spend the day cooped up inside.”

“And Ray’s a mighty fine cook, but he’s got nothin’ on me,” Connie added as she shuffled in and gave Mickey a quick hug.  When she pulled away, she gave Mickey’s exposed gut a pat and teased, “If’n I was coaching you, y’all would be the size of a house by now.”

The lardy Latina blushed and fruitlessly tugged her pajama shirt down to cover her stomach. “Honestly, I might not be that far off.  Do you guys mind if I change right quick?  I hate to have you over while I’m still in my pjs,” she giggled bashfully.

“Tu casa es tu casa,” Jack replied with a gruff chuckle. “No need to get all done up on our account; we’re the ones barging in, after all.”

Mickey let out a sigh, which made her belly puff out that tiny bit more.  She could feel it straining the threads in her shirt, but Jack’s presence helped put her at ease.  There was no need to stand on ceremony with the Nelsons; Mickey and Ray had never had to dress formally around them, even when they were invited to a few of their kids’ weddings.  While it was nothing like having the entire family over, their arrival helped to brighten the dismal holiday.


“And then, he bought the horse a prostitute!”

The table of four lit up with laughter as Connie finished regaling everyone with the tale of her son-in-law’s first time riding a horse.  After spending some time catching up while the food warmed up, the group settled in for an early lunch, where their chatter continued over the Southern comfort provided by the Nelsons.  Mickey and Ray had enjoyed many a homecooked meal from Connie, and if she had started her weight gain plan sooner, she knew exactly who she would have turned to for help.

Everything Connie made was rich and buttery, giving each dish a decadent flavor that would have been too much for the unprepared.  After spending the better part of a year gorging and feasting her ways into new levels of obesity, Mickey was more than prepared, and she devoured the lion’s share of the goodies.  Squares of cornbread vanished down her gullet, as did forkfuls of creamy green bean casserole, spicy chorizo stuffing, and cranberry gelatin.  Her eyes rolled back in her head as she devoured pillowy mounds of mashed potatoes and tiny onions dancing in a sea of cream sauce.  It was all so delectable that she wished there was more.

“Oh, there’s the sweet potato pie!” Ray announced as he shot out of his chair. “Be right back!”

“Let me give you a hand, darlin’,” Connie added as she followed the young man after collecting their empty plates.

This left Jack at the table with Mickey, who had outeaten everyone by a wide margin and was still gorging.  The unexpected company not only brightened her spirits—it also awakened her taste and appetite, so much so that she found it hard to rein them back in.  It was all she could do to maintain her table manners; it would be far too easy to slip into hoggish greediness.

“So, Mick, remind me again,” Jack mused while stroking his mustache, “when you get back to the GWF, you’re going to be facing the biggest fellas they have, right?”

“Bingo,” the butterball affirmed. “Since they don’t have any women my size, they’re going to make the Superheavyweight Championship an intergender belt, and I’ve got to run a gauntlet of the biggest guys.”

Jack nodded reflectively and responded, “Well, I know you’re keeping up with your training, but it’s going to take something special if’n you want to fight giants, Donna Quixote.”

“What’re you thinking?” the curious Mickey asked as she wiped up the last gravy on her plate with a roll.

“Take it from one hoss to another—sometimes, you’ve got to play the giant’s game,” the veteran answered with a wink. “I’ll teach you some moves you’ll want to have in your pocket.  Just give me a holler whenever you’re ready, kid.”

Thinking back to her doubts from that morning, Mickey nodded and replied, “You’ve got it, Jack.  Let’s slay some giants.”


“You know, I wasn’t kiddin’ when I said she’d be as big as a house,” Connie told Ray as she washed the dishes in the sink.

The manager shook his head and chuckled, “Yeah, but have you seen Mickey?  I’d say I’ve done all right so far.”

“Yeah, y’all have been doing all right, but is ‘all right’ what you’re aiming for?” asked his mentor. “When Mickey comes back, y’all are going to need to make a splash if’n you want to make this work, and is ‘all right’ going to cut it?”

That question gave Ray pause, and he cocked an eyebrow in curiosity. “We’re trying to do balance everything out so she can still compete when she gets back, Connie.  I could have her 700 pounds when she makes her return, but it won’t do any good if she can’t actually wrestle.”

The elderly booker shook her head and offered a sly smirk as she explained, “Y’all just aren’t thinking big enough.  I’m going to send y’all a cookbook—recipes guaranteed to put more meat on her bones than she’ll know what to do with.  I’m also going to send a training guide to keep her in such good shape, no one will be able to touch her.  When she waddles out there next year, they’re not going to see any ol’ pig—they’re going to see a bona fide, Hog Wild-style superheavyweight champion!”

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((Sorry for the delay on this chapter, everyone.  Been a little busy as I get ready to move in the next week, but I'm back with a new chapter!  We continue our look at Thanksgiving as we focus on Maggie and Sharon as both women learn more about themselves and their desires.  I hope you all enjoy!))

As much as her cousin enjoyed the holiday, Maggie Torres never cared for Thanksgiving.  She loved her family, just not when they were smothering her with kisses, tugging her cheeks, and generally treating her like a child.  It was something she had to put up with ever since she was little; she hated it then and she hated it now, when she was a grown woman.  By the same token, she also hated all the little ones who flocked to her and insisted she play with them or teach them how to wrestle.  It made for an exhausting holiday, one she always looked forward to escaping from.

“Muéven, cucarachas pequeñas,” Maggie grunted as she waded through a sea of young’uns. “Can’t I at least get in the door first?”

The diva was in no mood for her pestering primos and primas, especially with how long it took her to get ready for the day.  Maggie had picked a cute, chic outfit for the family dinner, but failed to account for how plump she had gotten in the last few weeks.  As a result of her decadent diet, she had managed to turn a comfortably snug outfit uncomfortably tight, though she blamed this on the faulty washer and dryer in her apartment.  That excuse made less sense for her denim jacket, but denial is a powerful thing; case in point, she refused to believe that her pants were an ill fit over her bloated beer belly.

Despite a valiant effort, Maggie was unable to close the gap between button and hole, so she let the jacket hang open.  Her sleeveless top was tight around her chest, which gave her breasts and spirit a much needed boost, but it was even tighter around her gut.  The globular mass was split into two rolls, which not only created an unflattering overflow, but also bit into her soft flab like a mousetrap.  If there were two perks to her choice in wardrobe, it was that the pants were adorably festive and that they were loose around her legs, which helped to hide her thickening thighs from judgmental eyes.

“Let me get my coat off, and then I’m all yours,” Maggie lied, knowing full well she would duck into the crowd of adults to avoid the munchkins in her family. “Go bother Sharon for a bit.”

The flock of children were quick to divert their attention to the other member of the Wild Roses as Sharon sashayed into the Torres household.  Contrary to the gimmick she portrayed in the ring, Sharon Goode was much more subdued in her wardrobe and did her best to downplay the soft, sensual curves that attracted so much attention.  Her simple red dress was fluffy enough around the chest to conceal her generous bosom, and there was the barest hint of her plush backside as the dress fell to her ankles.  A thick pair of glasses adorned her pale cheeks and her crimson locks were done in modest curls, like a superhero trying to hide among the common man.

Unfortunately, there was no privacy to be had with the kids, who wanted to know everything about the visitor.  Sharon had been to the last Thanksgiving, but she was still largely a mystery to the cousins, who wanted to know more about the girl that lived with their Maggie.  This left her open to many interesting questions, most of which she was able to deflect or answer with ease, but there was one she was not keen on answering this year.

“Are you and Maggie married?” asked one of the youngest.

It was a silly, childish question, and one she had laughed off the year before.  Now, as she dwelt on it, it brought a rosy blush to her cheeks and new emotions she had been dealing with resurfaced.  Sharon had known Maggie for a few years, and it was only recently that these urges and feelings had developed for her tag partner.

“You see a ring on here?” the redhead playfully answered as she held up her fingers. “If you want a Prima Sharon, you need to tell Maggie to hurry up and get one.”

This earned many giggles from the precocious children, but Sharon had her mind elsewhere as she caught a glimpse of Maggie strutting back over.  Without her jacket on, the diva’s thick arms were on full display, but rather than firm guns, they were soft to the touch like tubes of cookie dough.  It was one more sign that, while her beer belly was taking the brunt of her calories, the rest of Maggie’s toned body was not exempt.

“All right, ya little boogers, I need my boo,” the luscious lush told her cousins as she dragged Sharon out of the thick of the gaggle. “Go play, and we’ll be back to teach you a thing or two.”

Sharon turned a rosy pink as Maggie pulled her closer towards the festivities.  She tried not to make anything out of the ‘boo’ comment, since that was just how the diva talked, but there was something different about it now.  The bubbling brew of feelings in the bespectacled woman had her reviewing every errant word or action and wondering if there was something more to it.  Perhaps it was all in her head, but she studied her partner for any sign that she felt something too.

“Wh-What’s up, Mags?” asked Sharon once Maggie let go of her hand.

“Just needed you for back up with everyone,” the diva groused. “If I have you as a shield, that might mean I get less cheek-pinching and questions about what I’m doing with my life.”

And there was the other shoe.  Sharon rolled her eyes at the typical response from Maggie, but nevertheless, she followed after her partner.  While she did not appreciate the idea of being a deflector for the diva, Sharon knew how uncomfortable Maggie could get around her family.  If nothing else, her presence could help prevent a holiday-ruining meltdown.

“Let me get a little liquid courage, and I’ll be good to go,” Maggie told her friend as she made a beeline for the bar, which made Sharon much less certain about the probability of said meltdown.


“There’s my baby girl!” Lora Torres cooed as her daughter walked into the kitchen.

“Hola, mama,” the diva replied, fighting the urge to snap at being called ‘baby girl’.  She silenced herself by downing her second beer since arriving not a few minutes prior.

Lora was a balloon of a woman who was nearly as wide around as she was tall, which made fitting into the kitchen a tight squeeze.  Unlike her daughter, most of her curves went to her chest and hips, with only a modest amount of fluff sitting at her waist.  Her breasts were like cannonballs, and only a custom bra was capable of giving her the support she needed.  Hips that would get her wedged in most doors tapered down to thunder thighs that were so large and ungainly, the only way she could truly move was to swing them around in the hopes of gaining momentum.  When she did move, her booty bounced and quaked like a massive gelatin mold in an earthquake; if she was standing still, a dinner plate and glass could be perched safely atop the corpulent caboose.

“Oh, you look so adorable today,” the matron hummed as she trundled over to Maggie and stood on her tiptoes to kiss her daughter on the cheek.  She repeated this with Sharon and remarked, “And so do you, Sharon!  Oh, you must tell me where you got that dress—it’s so cute!”

“Thanks, Ms. Torres,” the ever-polite Sharon replied with a shy smile.

Maggie, however, grunted in exasperation, “Mom, you always ask her where she got that dress, and she always tells you—it was at LL Bean!”

“So rude…you get that from you father, I swear,” Lora clicked her tongue at her daughter and shook her head in disapproval.  She reached up and pinched Maggie’s soft cheek as she retorted, “That’s okay—you’re still my baby girl.”

“Mamaaaaa,” the diva groaned, wanting to stamp her foot in frustration but not wanting to be seen as even more of a child amongst her family. “We just got here—can you not embarrass me for five minutes?”

Lora sighed and went back to bustling around the kitchen. “Fine, fine, mija,” the stout woman replied. “We’ve already got some food set up, but the main course isn’t for another hour or so.”

“Got it,” Maggie nodded.  She glanced over to her partner and asked, “Think you can help me navigate my relatives?”

Before Sharon could answer, Maggie’s mother butted in. “Actually, do you mind if I borrow her for a minute?  I could use an extra hand in the kitchen.”

The spoiled diva was ready to snap at the voluptuous matron, but Sharon stepped in before there was a meltdown.  She patted her friend on the shoulder and told her, “Don’t worry, I’ll be right out.”

It took a moment, but Maggie eventually slumped her shoulders in defeat and downed the rest of her beer. “Fine…just come find me when you’re done.  I’m going to go grab a fresh drink before I throw myself to the wolves.”

As the petulant diva sulked away, Sharon glanced around the kitchen and realized that most everything was ready to serve; anything else was in its final stages.  She looked to Lora and asked, “Mrs. Torres, are you sure you need my help?”

“Oh, heavens no, Sharon—I put the finishing touches in the oven twenty minutes ago,” Lora chuckled. “I just wanted to talk with you for a minute without mija impaciente butting in and getting all worked up over nothing.”

The massive matron turned and did her best to lean against the counter, though her mile-wide backside left a good gap between it and her.  She sighed and shook her head as she glanced out to her daughter, who was on her third beer while her aunt and uncle pestered her with questions.  It was all Maggie could do to not throw a hissy fit there and then.

“She’s always been so reckless and impatient with everyone,” Lora explained to Sharon. “Margarita always hates these big get-togethers, but I’ve noticed a change in her lately.  It’s crazy, but she’s calmer than she’s ever been, and I say that because I’m her mother.  And I think I have you to thank for that, Sharon.”

That threw the bespectacled girl off.  She always felt like she had been chasing after Maggie, just barely keeping up with her while she ran to her own music.  Every time Sharon thought she had a hold on her friend, the diva managed to throw her for another loop.  If Lora thought the redhead was helping to keep her daughter in line, she was sorely mistaken.

“That’s sweet of you to say, but I don’t know if that’s true,” Sharon retorted. “Sometimes, it’s all I can do to keep up with Maggie; she just does whatever she wants to do, whenever she wants to.”

“I can’t argue with that, but I’ve been watching ever since you two got together, and she’s really softened around the edges,” Lora reasoned.

Sharon bashfully giggled at that and said, “I think that’s more to do with Maggie’s poor diet, Mrs. Torres.”

The bubbly woman stifled a laugh before replying, “Not what I meant, but that’s certainly true.  Margarita has always been a slim, little thing, and she’s really blown up in the last few months; I guess my genes are finally kicking in.  Then again, the way she’s going, she’s going to have a bigger belly than I ever had.”

That was plenty of food for thought—Maggie at her mother’s weight but hardly any of it in her curves.  Sharon could picture it so easily: her partner’s face rounded out by not one, not two, but three thick chins of fat, leading to fluffy shoulders and fluffier arms, before trailing to a chest that would be large on any other woman but was petite in comparison to the rest of her; her hips would be nicely padded and her booty thick, but with none of the voluptuousness of Lora.  Instead, her greatest curve would be the globe of blubber at her waist that jutted out as if she had swallowed a beanbag chair and bounced like a rubber ball.  It would lead Maggie around like a pet on a leash, bouncing against the tops of her knees with every precarious step she took.

Sharon was snapped out of her fantasy when Lora continued, “But really, if it takes getting that fat for her to mellow out, I’m not going to complain.  I just know that if you’re with her, Sharon, she’ll be just fine.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Torres,” the bespectacled redhead hummed, her cheeks a bashful pink.

“Now, why don’t you go fix Maggie a plate?” the matron suggested as she tugged her oven mitts on. “If she’s eating, she won’t have a chance to get snippy with everyone.”

Fueled by her desire for everything to run smoothly and to make that fantasy a little more of a reality, Sharon quickly assembled a plate of goodies.  Pumpkin empanadas, fried polenta with chorizo, and galletas de sueros; roasted corn, avocado and yam ensalada, and acorn squash and apple soup all found their way onto the two plates she assembled.  The bird itself was on the way out, but she could always go back to get more if Maggie asked—or even if she did not.  It was all smelled so delectable, and Sharon could not resist a quick spoonful of the creamy soup.  Once her partner was taken care of, she could fix her own little plate to tide her over.

She found Maggie just in time, as the diva was about to explode on one of her relatives—an older woman who playfully patted her stomach.  The auntie had a laugh like gargling gravel as she remarked, “Wrestling must pay pretty well these days—you’re looking well-fed, Margarita!”

Before Maggie could say something she regretted, Sharon butted in and asked, “Hey, Mags, I got you something to eat!  How about we find somewhere to sit down, huh?”

The haughty girl glanced down at the two fully loaded dishes in her friend’s hand and then back at her aunt.  Those were seriously full plates, but Maggie knew exactly how she wanted to spend her time.  She took a dish from Sharon and put on an apologetic face as she said, “Excuse me, Tia—I’m feeling pretty peckish after the drive.  We’ll chat later, okay?”

With a swift turn of the heel, Maggie strutted away with Sharon at her side.  She whispered to her fellow Wild Rose, “I could kiss you right now.  Another minute of her talking about how ‘healthy’ I look, and I would have suplexed her into the backyard.”

“Anytime, partner,” Sharon replied, putting aside the kiss remark for the moment.

While there was no one eating yet, it was impossible to find a quiet place to sit down and eat without being bothered by someone looking to make conversation.  They eventually made their way to the second floor and sequestered themselves inside Maggie’s father’s office, which at least gave her a place to put her dishes down.  Now that she had a chance to properly take in the cuisine, Maggie took a long whiff of the arrangement and sighed blissfully.

“I may hate this holiday, but damned if it doesn’t smell good,” the diva remarked with wiggling, indecisive fingers. “God, it all looks so delicious; I don’t know where to start!”

“The soup is really good,” Sharon suggested.

“Ooh, you know what would be really, really good?” Maggie asked before taking one of the empanadas, dipping it in the soup, and taking a big bite out of it.  Her eyes lit up in a greedy glint as she licked the crumbs from her lips and hummed contentedly. “Oh man, that’s good.”

Sharon felt her breath catch in her throat before she recommended, “The buttermilk biscuits might work well with that too.”

Maggie cooed like an excited child as she ripped a biscuit in half and dipped it in the soup.  She quickly scarfed it down before repeating the process with the remaining half.  The diva shot her partner an appreciative look as she remarked, “Good call, Share—you really know this stuff.”

“Not really,” Sharon was quick to retort. “I just…watch videos, you know.”

“Well, you ought to watch more of them,” Maggie giggled as she popped one of the bite-size polentas into her mouth. “Just don’t act on them too much—I don’t want to blimp up like Mickey.”

Sharon bit her tongue, fighting the urge to say that Maggie was slowly catching up to her corpulent cousin.  Her pace picked up bite by bite, to the point that she almost forgot to breathe in between mouthfuls, but she persisted.  Even when the diva had to unbutton her pants, she kept gorging at a frightening pace; if anything, loosening her pants might have unleashed her full appetite.  She attacked the two plates with such gusto, Sharon was surprised that she was still using utensils.  It was only when she heard two magical words that she was shaken from her blissful reverie.

“More please,” Maggie burped. 

That was all Sharon needed to hear before she bolted downstairs to get more for her growing partner.  As she filled the plates with more goodies, including dessert, she thought back to what Lora had said about Maggie.  She might just get that belly sooner rather than later…

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Man, this was a brilliant part to it, sorry that I haven't really commented on any of these until now, but this one was just so damn good!  I love the way that you described Maggie and Sharon's dynamic and you managed to keep your writing fresh with how you worded things and described things; it's something that I seriously need to do in my own fics, but this was just a great part and I can't wait to see where it comes from here. :) Keep up the great work! 

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((After taking some time off to work on moving, I'm back with a new chapter!  This week, we take a look at Triple H  Levi Hunter and how he feels about his rapidly ballooning wife, Amanda.  How will their Thanksgiving go?  You'll just have to read to find out!))

Levi Hunter gazed blearily at his scruffy reflection as he readied himself for Thanksgiving festivities.  He had trimmed his beard just enough to look presentable, and his dusty locks were buzzed down to a slight peach fuzz.  His chiseled body was crammed into a silk shirt and slacks that cost as much as a compact car, and he fiddled with the weighty Hall of Fame ring on his finger while studying his appearance.  Normally, he only put this much effort into presentation when he was in the ring or in front of the Board of Directors, but on this day, he could not afford to look like anything less than a million bucks.

Every year, he and his wife alternated how they spent their holidays: if they spent Thanksgiving visiting Levi’s family in Maine, they would spend Christmas in Connecticut with the Ericsons; the next year, it would be the reverse.  While Levi had grown used to Amanda’s family in the years since they first got together, he still had a nagging feeling in the back of his head that told him he did not belong.  He was the son of a fisherman and a stay at home mom—what right did he have to be with a woman of Amanda’s class?  He had tried to work around it, but he simply could not shake the thought that they judged him even now, when he was one of the most powerful men in the world of wrestling.

At the end of the day, it did not matter what anyone thought—Amanda and he had defied the odds and stayed happily married ten years on from their infamous union on TV.  They had three beautiful girls together, with another three on the way, and his blushing bride had only gotten more radiant as the years went by.  That rate had especially picked up in the last four months, as Amanda’s once toned and curvaceous body had bloated up and out with babes and blubber, and the Little Rich Girl had swollen into a matronly parody of herself.

Not that he could ever admit that to her, of course.  While Levi had been nothing but supportive as Amanda plumped up more than she had in her last pregnancy, he could not bring himself to tell her what he truly felt about her gain.  After all, how does one admit that seeing their wife’s ass bounce more and more with each day drove them crazy?  How could he tell her that every time she ate herself into a food coma, he had to excuse himself from the room?  When she popped a button on her maternity blouse the other morning, he had to fight every urge in his body to take her at the kitchen table then and there.  It was not something he could tell his normally fitness-obsessed wife about, especially not when she was so down on her recent gains.

Speaking of, Amanda plodded into the bathroom behind him in a terracotta bathrobe and overtaxed underwear that did little to contain her pudge.  Her milky breasts overflowed her bra, and Levi could only imagine the rolls of flab forming around the straps at her back and shoulders.  The maternity panties she had used when pregnant with their youngest were too tight to properly roll up her rotund middle, which was more than a little disconcerting.  With no other choice, she let her belly bounce free as she waddled along to the shower.

“Deciding to let it all hang out today?” Levi chuckled as Amanda shucked off her robe.

The brunette rolled her eyes at him before slowly wiggling her thickly padded hips. “Yeah, right.  I tried tying that stupid robe, and the damn belt won’t fit me.  Can you believe that?  I spent a small fortune on this thing!”

Levi could certainly believe it, with the way Amanda was eating these days.  How she was not already round enough to roll was beyond him—all she did these days was eat, sleep, and occasionally putter around the house.  In just a third of a year, nearly halfway through her pregnancy, the expectant mother had swollen to sizes she could only have dreamed of.  Much as she wanted to blame this on the medication she had been taking, that was only part of the problem.  The bigger issue was that Amanda, She-Devil of the wrestling ring, had lost all her willpower once taken out of her element.  It was so easy to forget about her cares when her loving husband and doting housekeeper spoiled and pampered her.

When Amanda dropped her robe to the bathroom floor, Levi was treated to the delicious sight of her black panties firmly wedged in between her pillowy cheeks.  The Little Rich Girl always had a thick backside, but this new plumpness was due to an ever-increasing amount of blubber, not muscle.  Her perfect rump had deflated a hair as her muscle tone evaporated, and she now had a modest sag that bounced around with every step she took.  More than that, those shapely thighs that had graced many a fitness magazine were now speckled with cellulite; combined with her increasingly pale complexion, it made her look like she was sculpted from cottage cheese.

It took every ounce of restraint in Levi’s body to not rip those tight panties off her flabby hips and take her then and there.  He would settle for some private time in the guest bathroom before everyone arrived for dinner.  Seeing his once trim, even muscular, wife turn into a perfect image of fertility had the powerful wrestler hungry like a wolf, especially now that he was home until springtime and got to see her all day long.

To whet his appetite, Levi asked, “Hon, your next check-up is tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, why?” Amanda grunted as she struggled to reach around for her bra.  When her fingers could not find purchase, she added, “Little help?”

“On it,” her hulking husband answered, more than eager to help her disrobe.  As he slowly undid her bra hook by hook, he suggested, “Maybe we should check your weight today, just so we can have something to talk about?”

Amanda stiffened in Levi’s arms and crossed her arms over her baby bump. “I don’t know, sweetie…I really don’t want to get on the scale more than necessary.  I know I’m fattening up like a Christmas goose; I don’t need to be reminded outside the doctor’s office.”

After undoing the stubborn bra, Levi peeled it away and chucked it over his shoulder.  He made a mental note to get new bras with a bit more give to them; Amanda’s current ones were on their last legs.  As he cradled her overfilled breasts in his hands, the burly man whispered, “But it’s not really that bad, you know.  You’re not as big as Shinobu Misawa, after all.”

“Mmm…no, I guess not,” Amanda murmured while she rocked in Levi’s grip.

“And it’s not like you’re as big as Maxine Kuhn, right?” he asked before giving her left breast a gentle squeeze. “She was, what, two hundred-fifty by the time she went down to Youngblood?”

His widening wife nodded and shut her eyes as she let out soft hums of pleasure. “She was…so fat by the end.”

“And do you know who’s really fat?” Levi growled huskily.

“Wh-Who?” Amanda shivered when her husband’s firm fingers found their way to her hardened nipples and toyed with them.

“Mickey Ramone,” Levi answered as he traced his fingertips around her dark and swollen areolas. “I saw her last update—she’s gotten absolutely enormous since April.  She’s three times her original weight, Amanda; if that’s not fat, I don’t know what is.”

The pregnant woman was putty in his hands, and she fought the urge to low as he tugged on her teats like a farmer milking a cow.  She groaned, “She…she’s a blob, Levi.  A big, fat, blob.”

“And you’re nowhere near as big as her, so you’ve got nothing to worry about,” the beefy man whispered.  He removed one of his hands from her chunky chest and goosed her as he murmured, “Come on…there’s nothing to be scared of when you’ve got fatties like those three.”

Levi knew Amanda well enough to play her like a fiddle.  All he needed to do was play to her vanity, and she would acquiesce to anything he wanted; the refurbished “mancave” in the basement was proof of that.  If he wanted to see how much his plush wife weighed, he simply needed to remind her that there were far, far fatter women than her in the Global Wrestling Federation.  After that, she was putty in his hands, which he used to gently guide her towards the scale.

Once Amanda gingerly stepped onto the scale, she lolled her head back and rested against her husband’s broad chest.  There was no way she could see the numbers on the scale; if her baby bump did not get in the way, her ballooning breasts would.  She softly mewled, “Levi, don’t tell me what it says; I’ll find out tomorrow.”

“Fair enough, mamacita,” he replied.  His beard tickled her cheek as he leaned in for a kiss, and then ran his hands down the length of her body while he crouched down to the ground.  Levi’s fingers gently squeezed each inch of soft, pliable pudge along the way, from her flabby flanks to her chunky calves.  He made sure to give her rump a little bounce before he glanced down at the numbers.

185.  One hundred eighty-five pounds of baby, fat, and baby fat.  Levi remembered her hovering around 135 back in June; it was a number she had maintained for years, barring her other pregnancies.  There was no way Amanda, a fitness nut who would rather be caught in white after Labor Day than with an extra five pounds, had grown that big in just five months.  Fifty pounds…more weight than she had ever put on in any of her pregnancies before, and she still had four months to go.

Levi’s musings were cut short when Amanda sighed and remarked, “I know it’s ridiculous how fat I’ve gotten, honey—you don’t need to gawk at it.”

“It’s not gawking, princess,” the big man replied as he slowly rose up again. “Just amazing, that’s all.  You get more and more beautiful with every pound.”

“Flatterer,” Amanda murmured, a pink blush on her cheeks.

“Doesn’t make it any less true,” Levi growled playfully.  As he gently tugged her stretched panties down her weak, tender thighs, he told her, “Go ahead and hop in the shower, sweetie.  I’ll make sure the girls are getting ready.”

Amanda nodded and gave her doting husband a peck on the cheek before waddling into the shower, leaving him to his own devices.  Levi would absolutely go check on the girls, but first, he had to make a pitstop in the guest bathroom.  The thought of his wobbling wifey growing as fat as Mickey Ramone commanded his attention, and demanded privacy for some quick relief.


After the Ericson clan arrived in full, the day went on as expected: Levi made small talk with people that would never give him the time of day if he was not Amanda’s husband, his daughters went off to alternately play with and complain about their cousins, and Amanda stomached all the comments about her looking ‘healthy’ and ‘motherly’.  It was exhausting for all involved, and that was before Levi had to talk with his father-in-law.  Dave Ericson had a way of sucking all the air out of the room just with his presence, and then he made things even worse by opening his mouth.  At least he had his wife, Wendy, to balance him out that day; normally, she was tied up in D.C. and could not make it to events.

“—and then the father says, ‘We’re the Aristocrats!’” Dave howled with a booming laugh.

It was the same joke he had been telling for thirty years, but Dave never seemed to tire of it, unlike everyone else around him.  Levi grit his teeth in what he hoped was a passable grin, while Wendy rolled her eyes and took another sip of wine.  Despite always being the one telling jokes, Dave was horrible when it came to reading the room; if he could, he would know that he was the only one really laughing.

“Oh, never gets old,” the CEO chortled. “Right, Levi?”

“Sure doesn’t,” the wrestler droned in agreement.

Wendy piped up for what felt like the first time all day and asked, “Hon, have you seen Amanda around?  I feel like she was here one minute and then vanished!”

“Heidi took her upstairs,” Levi answered, his eyes looking to the ceiling. “All this activity was getting to be a bit much for her, so she’s taking a nap.”

“A nap?  Ridiculous,” Dave scoffed. “She’s just like her old man—she doesn’t need to take naps!  I always thought she was made of sterner stuff than that.”

Wendy gawked at her husband and slapped him on the wrist. “David!  You forget that she’s also never been pregnant with triplets; I’d like to see how well you’d do with that.”

The old man harrumphed at the notion and replied, “Well, hopefully it’s just a temporary thing.  When she has those girls, she’ll need to hit the gym pretty hard to get back to normal.  It’s a damned shame too; it’s like half the women in this company decided to pork up this year.”

Levi’s nostrils flared and thoughts of brutally beating his father-in-law flashed before his eyes as Dave started another fat-shaming tirade.  He held his tongue during meetings and played along when Mickey pitched her idea for the Superheavyweight Champion, but it ate him up inside to hear the most powerful man in the GWF belittle so many talented people.  When he got to mocking his daughter’s weight gain, it was almost too much to bear, but he managed to control himself long enough to excuse himself.

“I think I’ll go check on Amanda, just to see how she’s doing,” the wrestler told his in-laws before briskly walking away.

Truthfully, he was not going to disturb his sleeping sweetheart; she needed all the rest she could get, especially when her entire family was around.  Levi opted instead to venture down into the basement, where he snuck past several guests engrossed in a football game and crept into his mancave.  It was a modest room that housed a TV, three bookcases filled with old comics, video games, and movies, and a desk with a computer where he kept all of his plethora of weight gain material.  The mancave was the perfect escape when he needed to destress.

“Let’s see if there are any new installments in ‘Capes and Cuisines’ or ‘Palmer Academy’,” the big man muttered as he plopped down in his desk chair and let out a deep sigh of relief.  What better way to unwind than by reading the latest stories about cute girls fattening up in a variety of situations?  The only thing that would make it better would be if Amanda was in one of those stories…


Sadly, all good things must come to an end, and Levi’s reprieve was no exception.  Once he had cooled down, he went back up to socialize, have a bite to eat, and check in on Amanda, who nibbled from a plate of snacks Heidi brought up to her.  The day was long and tiring, especially since the last person did not leave until 11 PM, and Levi found himself trudging upstairs and losing energy with every step.  By the time he got to bed, the massive man slipped his shoes off and collapsed beside his doughy wife, who made for a wonderful body pillow.

After a brief rest, Levi woke to discover that Amanda was no longer in his arms and that there were faint sounds coming from the kitchen.  He crept out of bed and slinked down the hall, making sure not to disturb his daughters as he went downstairs to see what exactly was going on.  His curiosity was rewarded with a most delightful sight ripped straight from his fantasies—Amanda at the kitchen table, gorging from a plate stacked high with leftovers, and her belly creeping out from her pajama shirt.  Beside her were two other plates, which begged the question of how much she had eaten before he got there.

“I think those leftovers were for everyone, princess,” Levi chuckled as he strode into the room.

Amanda spun around in her chair with eyes full of shock and embarrassment, much like a child caught with her hands in the cookie jar.  She bowed her head and pulled the spoon from her mouth before she whimpered, “I…I know.  I was just so hungry, baby—I tried to be good all day so that no one would say anything.  I shouldn’t eat all this, but I just can’t help it!”

Levi shushed her and put a finger to her lips. “It’s all right, sweetheart; it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.  In fact, I completely get it!”

“You…you do?” Amanda asked, curious.

“I do,” her husband answered with a nod.  He retrieved her spoon, scooped up a dollop of cheesy mashed potatoes, and brought it to her lips. “I get that you’re a greedy girl who can’t say no to food anymore.”

Amanda’s cheeks flushed red at that, but she did nothing to stop him as he brought another spoonful to her lips, and then another and another after that, all until he had emptied the bowl of mashed potatoes and moved onto the cornbread biscuits.  It continued on and on, dish after dish, until Levi managed to fill his wife’s belly with the leftovers—enough to last the five of them for the next three days.  Neither knew, but that late night meal would be a turning point for the power couple from then on that would bring their deepest desires to light…

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((As we work our way towards another unfortunate Saudi Arabia show, let's check in on Katherine Donna and see how she's enjoying her Thanksgiving.  Will she be the only one in her family to have put on weight over the last year?  You'll have to read to find out!))


Katherine Donna’s heart was aflutter when she stepped out of the rental car and marched up to her parents’ house.  After a late night of filming material for a GWF holiday special, she had gotten the first flight to Milwaukee and made it in time for the Thanksgiving festivities.  Travel problems would have been enough to give her the jitters, but the biggest concern was that she did not have Natalie with her to back her up.  It would be the first holiday in a long time where they could not celebrate together; the last time had been when Kat had been unable to attend their family trip to Barbados a few years prior due to a spinal injury.

Why was it so important that Natalie be there?  It was a simple, albeit selfish reason: if her fat ass sister had been around, there would be far less awkward conversations for Kat.  While both twins had gained weight over the last few months, the sportier Katherine carried it much better than the slothful Natty.  At least, that was how they looked when standing together; isolated, they both looked like butterballs in the making.  Kat did not have as monstrous an ego as her sister, but she still did not appreciate the prying eyes that judged each new pound on her frame.  At least, that was what she told herself.

The truth was that as much as she denied it, Kat was falling deeper in love with her plump, overfed body with each passing day.  What had started with a fascination in the rotund physique of her former stablemate, Maxine Kuhn, had grown into admiration, which then turned inward as she engaged an appetite she never knew she had.  The tomboy had been eating foods she never would have dreamed of with more frequency and wearing clothes that emphasized how chubby she was getting, especially in her chest and stomach.  She could not bring herself to admit it, but she was already a fat girl at heart; she was just letting her out.

“There’s my little champion!” Kat’s mother, Brianna, cooed as the sporty blonde walked in the door. “Your sister’s not here, so you’ll need to give me an extra hug for her.”

Katherine sighed warmly as she embraced her mother.  Brianna Donowitz was a thick woman in her own right, with full curves and a plump belly evidence that she frequently stayed on top of her diners.  She normally stood eye-level with her daughters, but the heels she wore gave her a boost over Kat that day, which only served to make the single twin feel even smaller.

“Good to see you too, Mom,” Katherine hummed before letting her mother go and looking her over. “And you look amazing!  What’cha been doing?”

Brianna giggled as she gave a little twirl. “I finally decided to try out those yoga DVDs you gave me for Christmas!  They’ve been so much fun, and don’t tell your father, but that wrestler that leads it?  He’s a hunksicle!”

“Oh my gawd, Mom,” the young Donna chuckled at her mother’s remark. 

She remembered the DVDs well: they were a gift for Brianna the previous Christmas, after the diner owner had been complaining about putting on a lot of weight throughout the year prior.  Kat assumed they would be forgotten like so many other weight loss tools over the years, like the low-fat cookbooks or yoga ball, but it seemed that her mother had stuck with the new routine.  The results spoke for themselves, as Brianna was nowhere near as fluffy as she had been last Christmas, when she had hit an all-time high.  Now, her black pants did not seem so tight, and her festive sweater was not as snug around her middle; she was no Skinny Minnie, but her loss was still impressive.

“But look at you, dear,” the businesswoman mused as she glanced up and down. “For someone who had to rush out the door, you look amazing!”

Katherine blushed and glanced at her feet at the compliment.  She had tried to put something together for the holiday, but between all the running around, she had no time to doll herself up.  Her plump face had a minimal amount of make-up, and her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail that left a few errant strands hanging around her chubby cheeks.  The jeans that looked so cute on her were digging into her soft stomach regardless of how much she fiddled with the waistband, and her white turtleneck was no longer flowing around her overfed middle.  No matter how much she tried to ignore it, the wrestler felt every single one of her new pounds that day.

“Thanks, Mom,” Kat mumbled while fiddling with a loose thread on her sweater. “Is everyone in the den?  I want to go say hi.”

“Sure you don’t want a bite to eat first?  You must be starving,” Brianna remarked. “Dinner’s not for another hour or so.”

“Oh, I’m good—I was able to grab a little breakfast on the way to the airport,” the young woman replied. 

The truth was that she did have breakfast, but it was not exactly little: a bottle of orange juice and a rich frappe; a bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit; scrambled eggs and sausage; hash browns; and at the very center, three fluffy pancakes.  Katherine wolfed it all down in the airport terminal while waiting for her plane, and even went back to get another frappe before it arrived.  Such a monstrous breakfast would have tided her over for the entire day once upon a time, but now, she was actually feeling peckish again.  If her whole family was not here, she would have gladly helped herself to a plate of hors d’oeurves, but she did not want to risk looking like a pig in front of everyone.

Unfortunately, her stomach growled in protest at that, and Brianna giggled at the rumble. “Sounds like you could do with a little something,” she hummed. “Why don’t you go ahead and sit down, and I’ll fix you a plate?”

“But I don’t—Mom, I…” Katherine meekly protested, but her words went unheeded as her mother sauntered off to the kitchen.  Left alone in the foyer, she glanced down at her stomach and gave it a pinch. “You’re not helping, you know that?”

When she finally made her way into the den, Katherine was greeted with warm wishes and welcomes from everyone in the room.  It was mostly her mother’s side of the family; her father’s family were all down in Chattanooga, except for Aunt Ruth, who lived not too far from the house.  Ruth was there with her latest boyfriend, whose name escaped Kat, and her two boys, Micah and Zane.  Across from her was Uncle Terry and Aunt Sandra, who both worked in IT and were always the most tech savvy people in the room.  To their left was Granny Liza, who used most of her free time volunteering at various functions.  Last was Uncle Clay, Aunt Meredith, and their daughter, Cassandra, who was the only one in the room close to Kat’s age.

They were all people she had grown up with, barring Ruth’s boyfriend, but at the same time, they all looked like strangers to Kat.  It took a moment for things to click, but the bewildered girl eventually came to the realization that she did not recognize them because nearly everyone in the room had lost a significant amount of weight in the last year or so.  Her mother’s family had always been on the heavier side, and when Katherine last saw them, several had been close to 300 pounds, if not more.  Now, everyone seemed much more svelte; even the biggest person, Terry, looked to be a manageable 250.  And with that realization came an even greater, more frightening one—she was the only one who had put on weight since last Thanksgiving.

“Hey, superstar!  We were just talking about you and your sister,” Clay told Katherine as she sat down beside her grandmother. “Heard she’s got the flu, the poor dear.  How are you holding up?”

“Oh, I’m good, apart from having to book it up here,” Katherine hummed.  She leaned over and gave Liza a peck on the cheek as she told her, “Happy Thanksgiving, Granny!”

The old lady smiled and returned the favor.  “Same for you, Katty!  I’m so glad to see you looking well; you’re staying healthy, I see.”

Katherine blushed at the remark and put a hand to her middle, ostensibly to smooth out her turtleneck but actually to gauge her stomach.  As she held her pudgy paunch, she looked over her grandmother, who had lost a crazy amount of weight after getting hip surgery and knee replacement.  Liza surely meant well with her comment, but Kat was not entirely sure; everyone knows that calling someone ‘healthy’ is code for ‘My, you’ve gotten fat’.

“Just, uh…just trying to stay in shape,” the blonde mumbled before straightening up in her seat. “They’re giving me a shot at the belt, you know!”

“Good for you, kid,” Ruth remarked with a tilt of her wine glass. “You deserve it after all your hard work.”

Brianna chimed in as she sashayed into the room with Katherine’s appetizers. “She certainly does!  I tune in every time she’s going to have a match, and my little champion has been slamming people left and right.  What was that move you used on that Aryan girl the other week—a powerdriver?”

“Piledriver, Mom,” Katherine politely corrected as she took the plate and took a big bite of a cheese-filled pretzel roll without a second thought. 

In her absent-mindedness, she failed to take into account how full her plate was with goodies, from veggies and dip to more savory delicacies.  It was a small meal in of itself, not something to tide her over for the next hour until they got to Thanksgiving dinner proper.  Nevertheless, the wrestler gobbled up every last bite as she made small talk with her relatives, occasionally regaling them with tales from the business, though she never stopped popping food in her mouth.  It went largely unnoticed by her family except for one member—Cassandra Burch, who watched Katherine munch with no small amount of schadenfreude.


All her life, Cassandra had been told that she could have passed for Kat and Natalie’s sister if she only lost a few pounds.  She was a chubby little girl who grew into a rotund young woman, never shedding that baby fat like her mother promised, and each year only saw her get bigger and wider.  Her family never gave her any grief for it—it would be hypocritical of them if they had—but her cousins were the lone exceptions.  Natalie had always been snide and snippy when it came to her robust relative, making sure to remind Cass of her weight every chance she could.  Katherine was better to an extent, but only in the sense that she was not intentionally insulting her.  No, Katherine’s biggest sin was how condescending she was when trying to encourage Cass to diet and exercise.

“Come on, Cass, you can do it!” said the girl who had never been overweight a single day in her life. “It’s not hard if you just put your mind to it—you’ve got to want it!”

Taint.  What Cassandra would have given to be able to swap weights with her cousins and let them know what it felt like to be in her shoes.  She had fantasized about what it would be like if she could fatten them with a single touch, ballooning them to the point they could barely waddle, and then stuffing them full of food that they would never walk again.  Since that was impossible, the bloated beauty would have to settle for pushing herself like never before, all to show her cousins up when next she saw them.  The previous Thanksgiving had been a dud, despite losing 40 pounds, but she was sure to be recognized now.  Not only had she lost an additional 50 pounds, but sporty and spry Katherine had put on nearly that much in that time—now, it was time to rub it in.


“So, Katty, notice anything different this year?” Cassandra asked, perfectly timing it so her plush cousin had a mouthful of food.

Katherine finished gulping down a pastry before looking over her once obese relative.  It dawned on her that Cass—Fat Cass, as Natalie had referred to her for years—was downright svelte compared to how she was a few years prior.  The girl’s thick double chin and chipmunk cheeks were gone, replaced by downright sharp features that put her more in line with the Donnas.  Her breasts were still plump and full, but they no longer sagged under their own weight anymore.  They were perched above a gentle slope of a tummy that pooched over her skirt—a far cry from the glob of dough that slapped against the top of her thighs when she walked.  Speaking of, those legs were so scrawny now and looked much more in line with a volleyball player than the butterball Kat remembered.

“Wow, Cassie!  I can’t believe I didn’t notice sooner, but you look amazing!” the wrestler genuinely complimented her younger cousin. “What’ve you been doing, girl?”

“Oh, just working my tail off,” Cassandra answered with a flip of her hair. “I just got inspired by those videos of you and Natty working out, and something just clicked!  Guess you’re still teaching me after all these years.”

Katherine blushed, oblivious to the vitriol behind those words.  That blush changed from bashfulness to embarrassment when her cousin remarked, “Oh, you’re out of food!  How about I get you some more snacks?”

“I…I’m good, Cassie, but thank you,” the ample athlete muttered as she glanced down at her empty plate.  There was food there just a few minutes ago, right?  Had she really eaten it all without even thinking? “Besides, dinner’s going to be ready in just a little bit.”

Cassandra shrugged and took Katherine’s plate—despite her protestations, the corpulent contender let it go without a fight. “Then don’t eat everything, silly.  Isn’t that what you always used to tell me?”

Katherine bowed her head and bit her lip at the reminder of her patronizing advice.  Cassandra had a point though: she just needed to show a little restraint; she did not have to eat more than bite or two.  It was not as if anyone was making her eat—no one but herself, anyway.  She had gone her whole life without being a greedy foodie; all she had to do was dig back some of that willpower she had in her prime, and she would be good.


That did not happen.  Despite her determination, or because of a lack thereof, Katherine wolfed down the plate of appetizers that Cassandra brought back to her.  This time, she largely forsook conversation in favor of feeding her growing belly with more and more food.  It was like a pit had opened up in her stomach, and no matter how much she shoveled in, it never got any fuller.  She would have snuck away for a third plate had her mother not announced that dinner was ready.

Of course, that was a matter of going from the frying pan to the fire, as Katherine had even less restraint around the veritable feast.  Cassandra stifled a giggle when she caught her fitness-minded cousin all but drooling as Granny Liza led the family in grace.  She purposefully took a spot beside Katherine, all so she could get a full glimpse of what a glutton the girl had transformed into.  When dishes were passed their way, the vengeful cousin served for the both of them, always making sure to give the hungry Katty larger portions than her own.

When they finally tucked into their meal, Katherine did not disappoint, as she focused all her attention on the food on her plate and ignored her surroundings.  Her greedy appetite took hold of her while she tore through her turkey and mashed potatoes with gusto, guzzled down the green bean casserole and cornbread with ease, and noshed on sweet potato fries and sausage stuffing with aplomb.  She was an eating machine whose sole functions were to eat every scrap in front of her and lift her utensils to the garbage chute that was her mouth.

Cassandra was awestruck as she watched her formerly fit cousin eat like there was no tomorrow; she had never been that efficient at eating, even when she stress-binger her hardest.  She leaned over and whispered, “Slow down a little, Katty; it’s not like it’s going anywhere.”

“Can’t,” Katherine snorted hoggishly before taking a big bite of stuffing. “Gotta eat.”

That reaction made Cassandra cock an eyebrow.  She had seen a good many changes in her cousin that day, but she could not have called Katherine snorting like a pig while she ate.  Cassandra glanced around the table, but everyone was so wrapped up in their own conversations that they completely ignored the two girls at the end of the table. 

Left to her own devices, the once obese girl whispered, “Katty, I’m not really that hungry—do you want some more?”

“Rnk,” Katherine grunted as she cast a glance at Cassie’s plate and nodded. “Yeah, yeah, gimme.”

Cassandra smirked as she transferred most of the food on her plate to Katherine, who wolfed it down with abandon.  She had no idea what had taken hold of her cousin over the last year, but she loved it regardless.  Soon, very soon, she would be the cousin, and Kat would be the helpless, out of shape butterball—and Cass would do everything she could to make that a reality.

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((And now that Thanksgiving is over, at least in this story, it's time for everyone's favorite shopping day--Black Friday!  Join Theresa and Carolyn as they lead their class in fighting for the best deals at their local Mega Lo Mart, and muse on how plump their charges are getting.  Will they be able to get what they're looking for?  Read on to find out!))


Black Friday shopping, when the goodwill of Thanksgiving is forgotten in favor of racing and fighting to get all the best deals at department stores across the country.  It is a bloodsport that has fallen out of favor in recent years, due to the rise of online shopping and extension of store hours, but crowds of eager shoppers ensure it remains strong.  Only the strong, fast, and clever can stand victorious on this day, able to snatch up the trendiest toys, clothes, and tech at dirt-cheap prices.

On a frigid November morning, hours before the sun would rise, all three traits could be found in Rose Manson’s wrestling class as they waited outside Mega Lo Mart—the biggest hypermarket in the state of Vermont.  Not every girl had turned out, as some of them preferred to sleep rather than wait in line in the dead of night, but they were still well represented.  At the head of the pack was the drill sergeant herself, who was bundled up in so many layers that it was hard to rest her arms at her sides.  Backing her up were a handful of her students: Nina Neverland, Jamie Jacobs, Vidya Anand, and Conner Trent, all of whom had chattering teeth and dreadful shivers.

Bringing up the rear of the group were the heavyweights of the class—Theresa Hartley and Carolyn Brown.  The ‘wrestling moms’ were clad lightly in spite of the frigid temperatures, with the redheaded Theresa wearing a GWF-branded tracksuit and beanie and the blonde Carolyn decked out in yoga pants and a fluffy sweater.  It helped that they both were heavily insulated otherwise, particularly the former Queen Heart, who had ballooned to almost 400 pounds after retiring from the ring.  She was back to steady exercise and diet (barring a slip at last month’s Halloween party), but she was still hovering around 350.  Carolyn, though nowhere near as fat as her flabby friend, weighed in around 230—far more than any other woman in the wrestling school.

“Why are we here again, Coach?” asked Vidya, who was freezing despite her designer snowsuit.

Rose spat on the ground and sneered at the rookie. “Because this will toughen you up and build character!  You prissy little pansies didn’t want to go for a polar bear plunge, so this is the next best thing.”

“Then why are you bundled up like the kid from ‘A Christmas Story’?” Nina scoffed.

“Because I’m ninety years old, you CBGB reject!” the wizened coach snipped at her most rebellious student.

Conner’s arms were wrapped tight as a vise around her chest as she asked, “And why are we doing it here?  We could just wait for daylight and do this in a park or something.”

“Because this is combat training, cadet,” Rose answered. “This here’s the most bloodthirsty time of year—when all goodwill gets thrown out in favor of beating the piss out of everyone for Christmas gifts.  You’re getting some real, hands-on experience with a brawl, ladies, so get your ass in gear when those gates open.  Mama Bird’s got a shopping list, and she ain’t gonna be happy if her chicks come home empty handed.”

Theresa cracked the knuckles in her sausage fingers and told the students, “We’ll be using this as an opportunity to work on your restraint, as well as your ability to end a fight without violence.  It’s important to remember not to lose your cool and turn a work into a shoot; that’s how people get hurt and careers end.  When we get everything on Rose’s list, we’ll reconvene at the cafe to take a breather and review everything.  Sound good?”

“Yes, ma’am!” her wards all replied, even if Nina’s was muttered more than anything else.

“But, like, why is Mrs. Brown here?” asked JJ.

Carolyn answered the question herself by pulling a tied-off sock from her purse. “I’m your back-up in case things get ugly.  I’ve done Black Friday here before, and let me tell you—you’re going to want someone with a sock full of nickels on your side.”

It was another hour before the hypermarket opened its doors, and when it did, all hell broke loose.  People were sliding in under the security gates before they could even open all the way, and though most of the girls in the class could do that, Theresa and Carolyn did not have that luxury.  All the heavyweights could contribute was their sheer mass, which they used to power through the crowds as they stormed the sprawling store.  Carolyn was on cart duty, which seemed like a simple enough task until someone tried to yank the cart out of her hands.  Conner moved in to assist, but her help was not needed, as the plump wrestling mom demonstrated her proficiency in self-defense.

“Get your own cart, you candy-ass jabroni!” the bulbous blonde shrieked as she whipped the offender with her nickel-filled sock. “Try anything like that again, and I’ll break out my bag of door knobs!”

“Door knobs?” Conner whispered to Theresa.

“Last year was particularly brutal,” the redhead explained but did not elaborate on.

The first item on the list was a new DVD player, but retrieving it would be a daunting task, as the Entertainment aisles were filled to the brim with hungry consumers.  Even with Theresa clearing a path through the horde, it would not be easy for the class to get their prize.  That was the thought, at least, until Vidya peered up and spied another container of DVD players on a shelf above, which would require an associate to come by with a ladder.

“Think we could get up there somehow?” she asked the group.

“You don’t need to be a gymnast—you just need to think like a Road Warrior,” Theresa replied as a smirk sprouted on her chubby cheeks. “Conner, get Nina onto your shoulders like you’re setting up a Doomsday Device.”

Before the rebel could ask what a Doomsday Device was, the more muscular Conner scooped Nina up and hoisted her onto her shoulders.  Nina squeaked in surprise and grabbed hold of her carrier’s head as she squealed, “What do you think you’re doing, you lummox?  Put me down!”

“Not until you grab a freaking DVD player, Nina,” Conner grunted. “Kindly hurry the hell up and grab it—your ass weighs a ton.”

The indignant Nina shut her mouth out of embarrassment and frustration, but did as she was told and snatched one of the DVD players high above the crowd.  She handed it down to JJ before Conner set her back on the ground with a discontented hum.

“Seriously, Nina, what’cha been eating—concrete?” the buff woman asked with a scowl.

“Eat chips and die, She-Hulk,” Nina hissed before poking the taller woman in the stomach. “I’m not the one with a beer belly bigger than my uncle’s!”

Before the two could come to blows, Theresa forced her way between them and slapped them both on their thicker backsides. “Knock it off right now, both of you!  You’ve got a job to do, and by God, you’re going to do it.  Get your keisters in gear and move onto the next aisle—now!”

Conner and Nina glowered at each other before turning tail and marching their way to the next aisle over, where the TVs were waiting.  Theresa shook her head in disbelief at the antics of her students; it was like being at home with her boys sometimes.  Their taunts at each other did hold some truth though—all of the students in class had put on weight ever since Theresa and Carolyn began attending.

Everyone was a little different: Conner, strongest of all, was developing a pudgy paunch that masked a tight abdomen; Vidya filled out like an hourglass befitting of her gimmick as a model; Nina’s backside soaked up calories like a sponge, expanding to the point that she wobbled with every step she took; JJ, while soft all over, was taking after her mentor and had ballooned in the chest over the last several weeks.  Regardless of where the pounds went, the results were the same—Rose’s students were quickly putting on weight, and not of the muscular variety.

At the same time, Theresa did not share in that gain.  Her resolve to lose weight and get back into some semblance of shape had seen her drop an incredible amount of weight since joining the class, and she felt lighter on her feet than she had in years.  Despite taunts from Nina, the former wrestler was rapidly shedding pounds and building up confidence that had been buried under her several acreages of blubber.  It made the possibility of rejoining the GWF a possibility, rather than a pipedream.


Working their way through the crowds was trying, even for the fittest of the bunch, but the girls managed to whittle away at Rose’s list bit by bit.  It took cunning, agility, and more than a little brute force to get what they were looking for, as the hordes of shoppers were like a plague of locusts that descended on the hypermarket to feed.  By the time the sun had actually risen, they were down to the last few items on the list, but also nearing the end of their ropes.  The students and mothers made their way into one of the few quiet spots in the store to catch a much needed breath.

“I don’t know how much more I can take, man,” JJ groaned as she leaned against the wall. “I’m not, like, claustrophobic or anything, but I’m starting to get really antsy-like.”

“I know what you mean,” Conner grunted.  The powerhouse bent backwards to stretch the joints in her back, while also causing her gut to become more pronounced.

Theresa wiped her brow and propped herself against the overloaded cart.  The massive matron had shed her jacket not long after their exercise began, and was down to a tank top that struggled to contain her girth.  Breasts the size of pumpkins threatened to ooze out the top and sides, despite a custom-order bra holding them in place, while her stomach tested the limits of the poor piece of cotton.  Her ham hock arms were splotchy red and her cheeks a porcine pink as she recovered with her students.

“Just a couple more things, and then we’re good,” Theresa huffed as she looked over the list.  A dress, a pair of combat boots, and a doll for her great-granddaughter were all they had left.  Easy-peasy!

“I can take Vidya and Conner to get the clothes,” Carolyn offered as she rested against the handle of the cart. “Think you can get the doll?”

“Not without the nickel sock,” Theresa retorted.

Once she was bequeathed the team weapon, Theresa led Nina and JJ to the toy aisle for the latest Cabbage Patch Kids doll.  It was a hot ticket item just as it had been in the early 80s, and by the time the trio reached the toy aisle, there was only one left—a redheaded ragamuffin that had fallen to the floor and been trampled on in the mad frenzy.  The box was a wreck but the doll inside was still smiling, dimples and all. 

Unfortunately, the girls were not alone in their search, as another trio stood at the other end of the aisle.  Theresa glowered as she recognized the trio from school events: Jasmine Rook, Maria Sharif, and the leader of the bunch, Sandra Beasley.  They were bullies that never grew out of high school and passed onto their little brats, who terrorized the playground.  Jasmine and Maria were cronies that did whatever Sandra said, but she hardly needed them; she was menacing enough on her own, given her MMA background.

“Well, well, what have we here?” asked Sandra with a sneer. “If it isn’t the Holstein of West Harris Elementary.  Who are these, Tessie—your caretakers?  You’re certainly fat enough to need some.”

“You’ve been busting out the same crap fat jokes for years, Sandra—it’s getting a little old, just like you,” Theresa rebutted as she crossed her arms over her mammoth bosom. “Are those crow’s feet around your eyes, or are you just happy to see me?”

The former fighter scowled and took a step towards the doll. “You’re in the wrong aisle, Angel Tits—the grocery’s on the other side of the store.”

“Oh, I’m right where I want to be,” her redheaded rival growled. “Girls, get ready to grab that thing and run for it.”

Nina and JJ nodded to each other and carefully made their way towards the toy, matching Jasmine and Maria step for step.  As they got closer, they crouched down in anticipation, their muscles tensing like coiled springs.  When both pairs were within a hair’s breadth of the doll, they glowered at each other with fiery glares that could melt ice.

“Better back off if you know what’s good for you,” Maria threatened. “We’ve won every Black Friday Brawl we’ve ever been in.”

JJ twisted her neck from side to side and scoffed, “Yeah, but Queen Heart is our teacher, dude.”

“Must be why you’re looking kinda chunky,” Jasmine taunted. “Maybe you need to cut back on the cookies and get back in the gym, tubs.”

Nina spat on Jasmine’s designer boots and jeered, “Call us fat one more time, and I’ll spear your ass into the next aisle.”

The other woman furrowed her brow and leaned in dangerously close as she whispered, “What’cha gonna do, fatty-fatty two-by-four?”

Nina’s answer was to spear Jasmine out of her shoes and into the empty toy rack behind her.  Maria turned to give her friend help, but JJ grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around into a superkick to the chin.  The normally lackadaisical girl laid into her opponent with a series of chops that resonated through the aisle.  While she struck Maria with enough force to be felt through the downy vest the rich woman wore, JJ kicked the doll back to Theresa.

“All yours, Mrs. H!  We’ve got this!” the brunette called back to her mentor.

When the box skidded to a halt beneath her, Theresa winced and struggled just to bend down.  Her gut bunched up and created a mountain of resistance, and her bountiful breasts filled her vision, making it impossible to see where the toy actually was.  This made it easy pickings for Sandra, who merely sauntered over and scooped the doll up.

“Poor Tessie,” the devilish woman tutted as she waved the doll in Theresa’s sweaty face. “It’s a shame you couldn’t get your hands on this, but don’t worry—if you’re lucky, you’ll get them on the next go around.  Or maybe I’ll just pre-emptively buy them all, just to make sure you never get your fat mitts on one.”

Just as Sandra turned to help her lackeys, she felt a pair of pillowy arms grab hold of her and wrap around her neck.  She did not need to look to see the grin on Theresa’s face—she could hear it in the redhead’s voice as she taunted, “Really, Sandra, I’m surprised.  Did you think I was so fat that I couldn’t get your scrawny neck in a sleeper hold?  Newsflash, bitch—I’m fit as hell, and can kick your ass up and down this store.”

Sandra writhed and kicked in the hold, but between the sheer mass holding her down and the vice-like grip on her, there was nothing she could do.  Within a moment, her eyelids drooped as sleep overtook her, and she finally went limp against Theresa’s belly.  Only when she was sure that the former fighter was down for the count did Theresa finally let go, at which point she grabbed the toy from Sandra’s hands.

“Girls, let’s move!” she called out to her wards. “I’ve got the doll!”

Theresa tossed the doll to Nina as she ran past and JJ took her by the arm as they raced down the aisles as fast as they could to escape the wrathful Sandra and her minions.  The further they got from the brouhaha, the bigger their smiles became, and when they reached check-out, the three were laughing hysterically.

“Dude, I can’t believe you put her in a sleeper hold like that!” JJ cackled. “You’re, like, the coolest mom I know!”

“Well, ‘she had it coming’ would be putting it mildly,” Theresa assured her students. “It’s going to make the next PTA meeting awkward, but damn, did that feel good.”

Nina giggled impishly at the memory of tackling Jasmine to the ground. “Hey, if you ever need back-up with those hags, let me know—I’d be more than down for a rematch.”

Theresa chuckled as she wrapped her meaty arms around the girls and pulled them both in for a hefty hug.  She chuckled heartily, “You’re the best students a coach could ask for, even if you drive me crazy sometimes.  Now, who’s hungry for some breakfast?”

Her answer came from two growling stomachs.  Both girls nodded eagerly, and once they made their last purchase of the day, went to reap the fruits of their labor at the café.

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((Sorry for the delay on this one, folks.  Things got away from me these last couple weeks, which I'll talk about more in a separate post.  For now, I hope you enjoy the last chapter in November--after this, it's onto December, the jolliest time of the year!  As always, let me know what you think!))

It was the last day of November, and the city of Philadelphia was struck by a cold and bitter wind that whistled through the streets.  Anyone in their right mind would stay indoors, but there was a party of three that dared to brave the chill of night.  Taylor Rose, the Youngblood wrestler known as Princess Tiger Lily, had found out that it was Maxine Kuhn’s birthday not two hours prior and took it on herself to throw an impromptu celebration for her mentor.  It was the least she could do after all that Maxine had taught her in the ring and during their photo shoots together.

Joining the duo was Maxine’s arm candy—one Rea Rider.  They had grown closer and closer ever since Halloween night, when a lustfully curious Rea had asked Maxine to show how she had gotten so fat.  That evening ended with the redhead stuffed to the brim and curled up alongside her Amazonian coworker, whose hand rested on Rea’s stomach until the following morning.  Their meet ups became more frequent as time went on, to the point that stuffing Rea had become a regular part of Maxine’s calendar.

All this time around Maxine was having several effects on both girls.  Taylor was fast becoming more confident in the ring and in the locker room, to the point that no one had picked on her in weeks; whether that was her own doing or the threat of a whupping from Maxine did not matter.  Rea had grown out of her crybaby routine after a violent match, opting to embrace her character instead; she did not revel in violence or harming other members of the roster, but it no longer broke her heart to do so.  These were all welcome changes for them, but there were other, more physical changes that demanded their attention.

“You girls are going to love this place,” Taylor hummed as she waddled down the street. “I read about it and I thought to myself, ‘I have got to bring Maxine and Rea here.’”

The Native American wrestler had always been a stout girl, but she had truly turned into a hoglet in the last couple months.  Her thick thighs clapped together with every step she took, and a once plush stomach had ballooned outwards into a flabby paunch that tested her leotard.  Working out with Maxine had given her some firmness and muscles beneath her blubber, but she was eating enough to cover any and all definition with a good layer of padding.

“If it’s anything like that steakhouse you recommended, I’m sure it’s to die for,” Rea replied with a dimple-forming smile.

Being fed by Maxine so much had caused the redhead to not only plump up and out, but also increased her appetite to the point that she was snacking and munching even when she did not have her lover’s mattress thighs wrapped around her widening waist.  All those calories went below the belt, to the point that Rea looked exactly the same from the chest up; it was not until one looked down at her belly that they saw where all her pounds were packed.  Firm abs were coated with pudge that pooched out into a pale teardrop, which led to hips and saddlebags that were the bane of her clothes.  Her booty quivered and shook with every step, and her thighs were constantly slapping against each other.  She was on the fast track to fatness, and she did not want to slow down anytime soon.

“Seriously, you know all the best spots in town,” Maxine remarked as she easily kept pace with her plumping companions.  She surreptitiously snaked a hand down Rea’s back and squeezed a handful of her girlfriend’s chubby caboose as she whispered, “That’s good for us, babe—gives me plenty of options for playtime with you.”

Rea giggled like a schoolgirl and sidled in closer to Maxine, much to Taylor’s disdain.  It was not like she hated the redhead; it was hard to hate anyone you shared a ring with.  What ground her gears was how Rea monopolized so much of Maxine’s time outside of work, oblivious to how much she hung around the brunette.  Taylor would be lying if she said she had strictly platonic feelings for her coach, but she had never acted on them for fear of losing her one friend in Youngblood.  Now that things were going her way and she had gotten closer with others, the stout girl felt more confident in addressing her desire for Maxine—if only Rea had not taken that place.

Taylor shook her head to clear all the envious thoughts racing through her head.  Tonight was supposed to be about Maxine, not herself; she was going to treat her coach to a lovely dinner at one of the most unique places in town.  She pulled her coat tighter around her thick middle and glanced over her shoulder at the lovebirds, wincing when she saw Rea putting a gloved hand on Maxine’s stomach.

“We’re taking a right at the next corner, and then we’re there,” she informed the couple.

“Right behind you, Taylor,” Maxine told her ward. “Man, when we get there, I’m going to get the biggest cup of hot chocolate they have.”

“Same,” Rea agreed through chattering teeth. “If they had a hot tub full of cocoa, I would just park it there for the rest of the night.”

Her Amazonian lover pinched Rea’s fluffy side and murmured, “Assuming you don’t drink it all, greedy girl.”

After rounding the corner, the party reached their destination—Max Brenner, a restaurant that also doubled as a chocolate shop and dabbled in decadent delights.  The first thing they noticed on entering were all the pipes running around over the dining room and leading to taps behind a bar.  Then came the candy shop, which was a small corner right by the entrance that was crammed full of people wanting to get some goodies to go.  Finally, there were all the dishes coming from the kitchen, each looking more delicious than the last.  It was too much for Taylor and Rea, and the growing girls were salivating at the aromas all around them.

“Ladies, I know it smells good, but it’s going to taste even better,” Maxine hummed as she pinched both her companions’ plump love handles. “And we can’t eat if we don’t get our table.  Come on!”

With their heads cleared, the girls were led to their table by the hostess and took their seats—Taylor on Maxine’s left and Rea on her right.  A quick glance at the menu showed that there was a heavy emphasis on chocolate; the dessert menu was a small book, compared to the two page dinner menu.  All eyes went to the drinks first in search of the hottest and sweetest options.

“Welcome to Max Brenner!” a waiter greeted the trio. “My name is Christian, and I’ll be serving you tonight.  You ladies want something to drink to get started?”

Before Rea or Taylor could answer, Maxine smiled and told Christian, “We could really do with something to warm us up, Christian.  Let’s get two milk chocolate Italian Thicks and a lemongrass tea for me—wait, scratch that.  It’s my birthday, so I’ll splurge and get the White Chocolate Chai.”

“Sounds like a plan!  I’ll get those right out for you,” the young waiter replied.

As Rea looked over the menu to find out what an ‘Italian Thick’ was, Taylor glanced over to Maxine and asked not unpleasantly, “And what if I wanted a lemongrass tea, boss?”

“I mean, you could have, but come on: ‘melted chocolate blocks mixed with fresh vanilla cream’?  Tell me that doesn’t tickle your taste buds,” Maxine hummed in reply.

It did sound delicious, and Taylor did not want to make a fuss over nothing.  She returned her attention to the menu, though not without a blush when she caught Maxine giving her a toothy grin.  Damn that giantess and her gorgeous looks—even if Taylor wanted to argue, it would be impossible.  One look, and she melted.

The drinks arrived soon after, with Rea and Taylor getting their hot chocolate and Maxine getting her tea.  Rea quickly drank down half of her mug, but Taylor was not nearly so greedy or convinced of its goodness.  She raised the mug to her lips, took one sip, and her heart skipped a beat.  It was the single best hot chocolate she ever had in her life, and she had to fight back the urge to guzzle it down before the waiter even left.

Taylor was so engrossed in the flavor of her drink that she almost missed Maxine telling their waiter, “Let’s start with some Sriracha-Buffalo wings, some of the cocoa spiced waffle fries, and some of those onion rings with the dark chocolate ranch.  Oh, and can we get bacon and the five-cheese blend on those fries?”

“No problem!” Christian chirped. “We’ll get those out for you in just a bit.”

“You’re the best, Christian,” Maxine complimented the young waiter with a wink and a waggle of her plump fingers.

No sooner had their waiter left than Taylor leaned over and asked, “Okay, what gives, boss?  That’s a lot of food, and we’ve only gotten started.”

“Hey, I’m not going to complain,” Rea chimed in. “Maxine always knows the best foods.”

With both girls looking to her, the birthday girl blushed and slumped her shoulders as if releasing a breath she had been holding in.  Maxine glanced between her companions and gave them a small smile, far from the cocksure grin she had sported all evening.  The shift also made her look plumper, and Taylor noted that even though her coach had lost a good deal of weight, she still had a long ways to go.

“Well, Taylor, this is my birthday gift to you both,” the giantess softly explained to her student. “When I moved out here, I knew no one and felt like crap after getting booted out of the main roster and being dumped.  I tried not to show it in front of everyone, but I was lonely without people to be around outside the ring; I was so close to relapsing and eating my feelings away.  Then, I helped you out in the locker room and we started hanging out after that, and it was so good having someone to hang out with after training or a show.”

Her attention shifted to Rea, and the blushed deepened on Maxine’s chubby cheeks as she continued, “And then, well, Halloween Night happened, and it was amazing.  I had not felt so beautiful and wanted in such a long time; it made me realize what I had been missing from my last relationship.  There aren’t enough words for me to express how grateful I am to you for helping me find myself again.”

Both girls were at a loss for words and Rea’s eyes teared up at the heartfelt admission as Maxine concluded, “Anyway, I’m not the best talker—my mic skills will attest to that—so this is my way of saying thank you to you both.  The only way I know how to celebrate is with good eating though, so I hope you brought your appetite tonight.”

“Maxine, sweetie, I will eat literally anything you put in front of me tonight,” Rea replied after choking back her tears of happiness.

Taylor took another moment to compose herself and find her tongue before adding, “Y-Yeah, of course, just…can I order my main course?”

“Absolutely,” Maxine answered with a nod. “Sorry about ordering for you, Taylor—guess I just got a little carried away.”

Rea took another long draught from her hot chocolate and giggled, “I don’t mind!  You always know the most delicious foods.”

The birthday girl smirked and gave her still substantial belly a pat. “Well, you don’t get this big without knowing your way around a menu.”

Seeing Maxine’s doughy belly quiver, covered though it was by her sweater, made Taylor turn a fine pink.  She distracted herself by looking over the menu and trying to find something that looked good without being too fattening.  Her recent gains were not lost on her, and the stout girl was trying to curtail her new appetite before it got her into trouble.  Most of her clothes were getting tight, like the black jeans she had chosen for the night; they hugged every inch of her thickening thighs and bit into her waist like a bear trap.  Everything on the menu sounded delicious, but she could not afford to keep pigging out like this.

Then Taylor saw how Maxine looked at Rea and played with her like a couple of young lovers in high school, oblivious to the world around them.  She could see her coach reaching under the table to stroke the redhead’s plump stomach and whispering sweet nothings that made Rea turn red as her hair.  Taylor bit back her frustration and tried to focus on the menu, but it was no use; it was impossible to ignore the playful pair beside her.

“You know what?  I think I’m going to have the pub steak with fingerling potatoes,” the jealous girl boldly announced, much to a surprised Rea and Maxine.

“Gosh, Taylor, that sounds amazing,” Rea remarked in awe. “I was probably going to have the mac and cheese and the roasted vegetables as a side.”

“They both sound delicious,” Maxine replied with a lick of her lips. “You sure you’ll be able to tackle that steak, Taylor?  That might be a bit much.”

Satisfied that she had gotten her crush’s attention, Taylor nodded and leaned back in her chair as she sipped her sweet drink. “Oh, absolutely.  I’m sure this is just like all the other trendy restaurants out there—tiny portions that cost way too much.  I’ll bet you I could eat one of the appetizers, the steak and potatoes, and still have room for dessert.”

“Is that right?” Maxine asked with a grin. “I’d like to see that.”

“Same,” Rea chimed in, blissfully unaware of the reason behind Taylor’s larger order.

“In fact, I’ll sweeten the deal, birthday girl,” Taylor added, cockiness growing with her confidence. “I’ll even let you pick out the dessert—doesn’t matter what it is, I’ll still finish it.”

There was a twinkle in Maxine’s eyes as she replied, “Challenge accepted.  I’ll make sure to pick out something nice and big, since you’re such a big eater.”

That put a smile on Taylor’s face.  It was just like before, when it was just her and Maxine palling around and getting cozy, without anyone to intrude.  Did she want to steal Maxine away from Rea?  Not exactly—she was not that callous.  Did she want to steal her attention?  Absolutely, and she was willing to do anything to get it.


“This was a mistake,” Taylor burbled after choking down another bite of dessert pizza.

She had not stopped eating since the appetizers first arrived at the table.  True to her word, she claimed the fries all to herself after allowing Maxine and Rea a taste, and she picked up two wings and onion rings to make up the difference.  That left her pleasantly full, but in her effort to impress, the stout girl assured her coach that she could still go on.  This was a mistake, as the steak was a beast that demanded respect: it took up three-quarters of the plate and sat atop sautéed potatoes, all doused in her butter.  By the time Taylor had swallowed her last bite, it was time for dessert—her current undoing.

“The lady will have a whole chocolate chunks pizza with all the works,” Maxine told the waiter, sealing Taylor’s fate.

‘All the works’ meant adding hazelnut, banana, peanut butter, and roasted marshmallow on what was already a pizza topped with melted milk and white chocolate.  It was decadently delicious and deliciously decadent, and were it not for the two large portions Taylor had plowed through earlier, she would have scarfed this down with ease.  As it was, she had to force each bite into her stuffed stomach, which was bloated more than it ever had been before.  Was this what Rea felt like whenever she ate with Maxine?  If so, it was a mystery how she was not already 200 pounds.

“Taylor, maybe you ought to throw in the towel,” the redhead in question suggested as she scooped up another spoonful of tiramisu. “You already ate a ton tonight; you don’t need to eat the whole thing.”

“Not…quitting,” the stout girl burbled. “Still got…room.”

Maxine smirked and mused, “I think I can make a little more room for you.”

Before Taylor could ask what she meant by that, the Amazon reached under the table and deftly popped the button on her jeans.  It was embarrassing to think that she had eaten enough to necessitate undoing her pants, but the relief it brought was more than welcome.  Sure enough, Taylor stifled a burp and felt a fair bit of space clear up in her stomach.  She looked to Maxine for an answer, only for the brunette to wink and waggle her fingers.

“Magic hands,” Maxine hummed. “Now, let’s see you finish that pie, Taylor.”

And she did.  For Maxine, Taylor would do anything—even stuff herself stupid.

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((And now, for some news.  Thank you to everyone who has enjoyed this story so far, whether you've been reading since the beginning or just started with the latest chapter.  It's been a blast working on this for the last two years, and I can only hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have.

That said, I'm worried about burning out.  This story is 260 pages long now, and while I'd gotten into a better routine in terms of updating, it's been a chore to get through the last few chapters.  That's why I'm going to take the next month off--so I can recharge my batteries and plan out the last 1/3rd of the story.  I'm not stopping the story entirely--I've put far too much effort into this to stop now--but I need to take a breather to get my head straight.

In the meantime, I'm going to work on something I've been planning for sometime: a character list that details each character in SHWC, complete with a short summary and their gains/losses since their debut.  I'll be posting that in a couple weeks, so keep your eyes peeled for that.

Again, thank you so much to all my readers.  I hope you've enjoyed the journey so far, and I can't wait to show you what's coming next.))

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((Well, it's taken a little longer than I thought, but I'm finally ready to start sharing the character summaries!  Just like this year's WrestleMania, it's too big for one night, so I'll be posting half tonight and half tomorrow.  And keep an eye out for the next new chapter on Monday!))


1.       Mickey Ramone: the main character of SHWC.  Mickey has been wrestling since she was a teenager and accrued accolades all over the world.  After growing bored with winning the same titles over and over again, she decides to bring back the Superheavyweight Championship so that she can be its first holder in forty years.  Currently off television in order to bulk up to an acceptable weight class, she has thrown herself into gaining with reckless abandon.  Occasionally goes out in a luchador mask as ‘La Cerdita’.

  • Appearances: Chapters 1-8, 10-12, 16-18, 20, 28, 38-40, 47
  • Weight Gain: 125 lbs.—385 lbs.

2.       Raymundo Valdez: Mickey’s longtime boyfriend and manager.  Raymundo was initially skeptical about Mickey’s plan but supports her all the same.  He prepares meals and exercise regiments for her, and is using his time away from the Global Wrestling Federation to work out and lose some weight.  Not necessarily a full-time FA, he loves how Mickey has filled out and cannot wait to see where the next pounds fall on her.

  •       Appearances: Chapters 1-8, 10-12, 16-18, 20, 28, 38-40, 47
  •       Weight Loss: 250 lbs.—210 lbs.

3.       Lou Ramone: Mickey’s grandfather.  He was dubbed ‘Hog Wild’ Ramone during his time in the GWF was a three-time Superheavyweight Champion.  Though he died before Mickey could ever really know him, she wants to honor his legacy by reinstating the title he was most associated with.

  •       Appearance: Chapter 1 (mentioned)
  •       Weight: 650 lbs. (peak)

4.       Drew Buckler: a GWF crew member who helps design the belt emblems and changes the nameplates after a title change.  Very polite and humble.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 1 (single appearance)
  •        Weight: 185 lbs.

5.       Dave Ericson: owner of the Global Wrestling Federation since acquiring the company on his father’s passing.  Dave is a stubborn S.O.B. who has a clear vision for the wrestling industry and does not take deviations lightly.  He is short-sighted and does not understand what the modern wrestling fan wants in their product, such as when he screwed the crowd-favorite Shinobu Misawa out of her title.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 1, 2, 43, 46, 49
  •        Weight: 190 lbs.

6.       Sadie Storme: Mickey’s rival in the GWF.  Sadie is a schemer and backstage politician who will do whatever it takes to get what she wants.  She is a manipulative lover who treats her partners like pet projects, fattening them up and making them dependent on her while having casual hook-ups in her travels.  She was in a relationship with Maxine Kuhn until Maxine was demoted to Youngblood Wrestling and had to move to Philadelphia, at which point she began seeing Natalie Donna.

  •       Appearances: Chapters 2, 4, 7, 9, 13-14, 19-20, 29-31, 43-44, 46
  •       Weight: 140 lbs.

7.       Lane Ericson: Dave’s son and on-screen commissioner of Tuesday Night Madhouse.  Often seen as the voice of reason among the Ericsons, he is a part-time wrestler who tries to do right by everyone.  Sees potential in Mickey’s decision gain weight and bring back the Superheavyweight Championship.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 2
  •        Weight: 230 lbs.

8.       Amanda Ericson Hunter: Dave’s daughter, Levi’s wife, and on-screen commissioner of Monday Night War.  A control freak in the vein of her father, she is ruthless both in the board room and in the ring.  Currently taking maternity leave while pregnant with triplets.  Due to a chemical imbalance, she has to take a new medication that is making her more sluggish, hungrier, and likelier to gain weight.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 2, 5, 10-11, 19, 24, 29, 31, 42, 49
  •        Weight Gain: 135 lbs.—185 lbs.

9.       Levi Hunter: Amanda’s husband and General Manager of War.  Levi is a semi-retired wrestler who has taken on more power behind the scenes and is poised to take the reins of the GWF.  A closet FA, he is thrilled to watch his formerly athletic and fit wife plump up and out of her wardrobe.  Tries to get on well with Dave, but is becoming increasingly agitated with his father-in-law’s bias.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 2, 5, 10-11, 19, 29, 31, 42, 49
  •        Weight: 255 lbs.

10.   Nancy du Pont: the top-ranked physician on staff with the GWF.  Respects everything that the performers do, but wishes that they could cut back on the career-ending stunts.

  •       Appearance: Chapter 2
  •       Weight: 122 lbs.

11.   Shinobu Misawa: one of Mickey’s best friends in the GWF.  Born in Osaka, Shinobu was trained in a wrestling dojo and made a name for herself as a hard-hitting brawler.  When she discovered Mickey’s plan, she decided to follow suit and embrace desires she had buried away since she was in school.  She was the reigning Women’s Champion until Ananya beat her at Global War in a screwjob.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 4-7, 9, 13, 19-20, 26-27, 34-35, 43, 45
  •        Weight Gain: 135 lbs.—201 lbs.

12.   KC Skye: Mickey’s former tag team partner.  Born Cassandra DuPont (no relation to Nancy), KC is a towering woman with a background in acrobatics and gymnastics.  She is one of the few people that know Mickey’s secret, as well as Shinobu’s desire to plump up as well.  Never one to back down from a fight, she got into an altercation with Sadie that led to her leg breaking.  While recovering, she has put on a good deal of weight, but she is determined to get her revenge one day.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 4-7, 9, 13, 19-20, 26-27, 34-35, 41
  •        Weight Gain: 140 lbs.—199 lbs.

13.   Natalie Donna: one half of the Donna Twins and a member of the Storme Troop.  Less athletically inclined than her sister, Natalie has always gotten by on her wiles and good looks.  All that changes when she tails Sadie while she meets one of her hook-ups, which sparks her kink for humiliation and control.  After letting herself soften, Natalie attracted Sadie’s attention on Halloween and they had a fling at a motel.  Unfortunately, Sadie is now blackmailing her to keep her under her thumb and continue to gain weight.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 7, 9, 14, 19-20, 25, 29-31, 43-44, 46
  •        Weight Gain: 125 lbs.—170 lbs.

14.   Katherine Donna: the other half of the Donna Twins and a member of the Storme Troop.  Katty, as she is known, has a passion for wrestling and aspires to become champion.  Has grown closer to Maxine after the bigger girl was kicked out of the group and demoted back to developmental.  Ever since, she has let her appetite get the better of her, and she tends to go into a hoggish trance while stuffing her face.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 7, 9, 13-15, 19-20, 25, 29-30, 43-44, 50
  •        Weight Gain: 130 lbs.—165 lbs.

15.   Maxine Kuhn: former member of the Storme Troop and Sadie’s ex.  Alias ‘Typhoon’, Maxine is a gentle giant who was led astray when she joined the big leagues and fell under Sadie’s sway.  Sadie coaxed her into gaining over a hundred pounds while also badmouthing her to management, ensuring Maxine never left her side.  After intentionally letting KC break her leg, Maxine was sent to Youngblood Wrestling and Sadie broke up with her via ghosting.  She works hard to lose weight and get her skills back, while balancing a burgeoning relationship or two.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 7, 9, 13-15, 19-20, 25, 36-37, 43, 52
  •        Weight Gain/Loss: 235 lbs.—251—225 lbs.

16.   Doctor Steve Williams: Amanda’s OB-GYN, who told her and Levi that they were expecting triplets and prescribed Amanda’s medication.  A genial man who would not look out of place in a wrestling ring, he takes everything rather lightly.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 10-11
  •        Weight: 285 lbs.

17.   Theresa Hartley: retired wrestler and Mickey’s childhood icon.  Known as Queen Heart, she left the business to start a family and stayed out after putting on well over 200 pounds and sinking into depression.  After meeting Mickey and Ray while on a cruise, Theresa considers getting back into the business, which is only bolstered after learning her old coach has a new wrestling school.  Theresa joins alongside her friend, Carolyn, and has become an integral part of the school as a mentor for the wanna-bes.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 10-12, 20-23, 32-33, 51
  •        Weight Gain/Loss: 370 lbs—385—330 lbs.

18.   Agatha DuPont: KC’s cousin who has moved in to play nursemaid while she recovers.  Agatha is a few years older than KC and never got the appeal of wrestling, though she always supports her baby cousin.  Her excellent cooking is one of the leading factors in KC’s rising weight.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 13, 19, 26, 35
  •        Weight: 175 lbs.

19.   Savannah Thorne: “JuiciestPear”, a feedee that Sadie hooks up with while in Philadelphia.  Used to play soccer in high school until an injury kept her from pursuing it any further.  Has plumped up to the point that she has trouble getting in and out of restaurant booths on her own.

  •       Appearance: Chapter 14
  •       Weight: 400 lbs.

20.   Jack Nelson: an old mentor for Mickey and Ray.  Jack is a retired wrestler who currently runs Dare-Devil Wrestling in the New Mexico area.  Is one of the few people to know Mickey’s plan, and has promised to help her get to another level.  Thinks that Maggie and Sharon have great potential and has promised them good spots on the card.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 16-17, 47
  •        Weight: 230 lbs.

21.   Nicole Vazquez: one half of Las Reinas del Bestias.  Nicole is a luchadora who wrestles under the name ‘La Osa Amarilla’ and tags with her real life girlfriend, Ashton.  A former rugby player in high school and college, Nicole can be equal measures sweet and savage.  Met defeat at Maggie and Sharon’s hands in their debut match, and later reconnected at a Halloween FA party.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 16-17, 39-40
  •        Weight Gain:195 lbs.—215 lbs.

22.   Ashton Michaels: the other half of Las Reinas del Bestias.  Ashton is also a luchadora and competes under the name ‘La Serpiente Moreda’ with Nicole.  She played soccer up through college but followed her lover into the world of wrestling.  Lost to Maggie and Sharon but remains friendly with them.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 16-17, 39-40
  •        Weight Gain: 175 lbs.—190 lbs.

23.   Maggie Torres: Mickey’s baby cousin and one half of the Wild Roses.  Maggie has been wrestling for a few years in Mexico, and recently made her stateside debut for Dare-Devil Wrestling.  Something of a diva, she always goes where the party is and demands a spotlight at all times.  She loves to drink, and her recent discovery of a delicious and highly caloric beer have caused her to severely plump up in the few months she has been in New Mexico.  Hates being mollycoddled by everyone except her tag partner, Sharon.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 16-17, 19-20, 28, 38-40, 48
  •        Weight Gain: 118 lbs.—155 lbs.

24.   Sharon Goode: Maggie’s tag partner and the other half of the Wild Roses.  While she plays a seductive and sensual character inside the ring, Sharon is far more reserved and self-conscious when there’s no audience.  Doubles as Maggie’s caretaker, as she is the far more responsible of the two.  She has also developed an attraction to her partner’s increasingly chubby body, and doesn’t mind serving her another plate if it means seeing another inch of tummy.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 16-17, 19, 28, 38-40, 48
  •        Weight: 125 lbs.

25.   Ayano Urai: a childhood friend of Shinobu’s.  First appeared in a dream Shinobu had in the tail end of September.  Currently resides in Osaka.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 19
  •        Weight: 92 lbs.

26.   Mitsuki Shirai: another of Shinobu’s friends from school.  First appeared in a dream where Shinobu envisioned herself back in school.  Currently lives in Osaka.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 19
  •        Weight: 111 lbs.

27.   Noah Hartley: Theresa’s husband.  Loves his wife no matter how much she weighs and wants to help break through her depression.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 21-22
  •        Weight: 186 lbs.

28.   Carolyn Brown: Theresa’s best friend and fellow soccer mom.  Bubbly and fun-loving, Carolyn works with Noah to help Theresa beat her depression.  Wound up joining Rose’s wrestling school and became known as a ‘Wrestle Mom’ amongst the girls.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 21-23, 32-33, 51
  •        Weight Loss: 255 lbs.—224 lbs.

29.   Jamie ‘JJ’ Jacobs: a student in Rose’s wrestling school.  Very chill and easy-going, especially when compared to her best friend, Nina.  Has a crush on Theresa and tries to get hugs from her as much as she can.  Enjoys smoking a joint or three in her off-time.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 21-23, 32-33, 51
  •        Weight Gain: 119 lbs.—143 lbs.

30.   Nina Neverland: another student in Rose’s wrestling school.  Nina is a snarky punk who, to borrow a phrase, has potential but chooses to squander it with empty rebellion at a non-mandatory institution.  Is in deep denial over how much weight she has put on recently.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 21-23, 32-33, 51
  •        Weight Gain: 122 lbs.—153 lbs.

31.   Rose Manson: Theresa’s old and current coach.  Rose is a retired ring veteran with decades of experience backing her up.  She does not take crap from anyone and runs her wrestling school like a drill sergeant to bring out the best in her students.  Uses unconventional training methods, like having her students fight through Black Friday shopping crowds.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 22-23, 51
  •        Weight: 120 lbs.

32.   Grace Ericson Hunter: Amanda and Levi’s youngest daughter.  Loves having her parents home, even if Amanda is often tired due to her pregnancy.

  •        Appearances: Chapter 24

33.   Nicole Ericson Hunter: Amanda and Levi’s oldest daughter.  Very sporty and tomboyish compared to her other sisters, and takes charge when her parents are traveling for business.

  •        Appearances: Chapter 24

34.   Josie Ericson Hunter: Amanda and Levi’s middle daughter.  Gets along well with her sisters and wants to be a wrestler like her parents when she gets older.

  •        Appearances: Chapter 24

35.   Heidi Gati: Amanda and Levi’s housekeeper.  Heidi loves working for the family, especially cooking; she prides herself on knowing a thousand and one recipes.  Has a very old world mentality when it comes to Amanda, who is far too thin in her eyes.  Now that Amanda is staying at home and eating more, Heidi is taking advantage of this and helping her grow into the true definition of ‘matronly’.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 24, 42
  •        Weight: 185 lbs.

36.   Taylor Rose: a Youngblood wrestler who competes under the alias ‘Princess Tiger Lily’.  A member of the Shawnee, Taylor feels like a fish out of water in the promotion and was regularly picked on until Maxine took her under her wing.  Since then, Taylor has developed something a fondness for the titanic woman that straddles the line between admiration and desire.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 25, 36, 52
  •        Weight Gain: 165 lbs.—193 lbs.

37.   Mandy Aconite: a bully in Youngblood Wrestling.  Her father is an executive in the GWF, which she thinks gives her liberty to do whatever she wants.  After Maxine confronted her, she has remained quiet, not wanting to incur the wrath of the giantess.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 25
  •        Weight: 120 lbs.

38.   Iris Blaze: one of Mandy’s cronies.  Enjoyed picking on people until Maxine control of the locker room.  A shopaholic who regularly blows her paycheck on new clothes.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 25
  •        Weight:102 lbs.

39.   Farrah Fuchsia: Mandy’s other lackey.  Gets a kick out of kicking people when they’re down.  Works in her parent’s restaurant when not competing.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 25
  •        Weight:130 lbs.

40.   Vidya Anand: one of Rose’s students.  Vidya is a sweetheart who comes from an affluent family and has always had a fascination with wrestling.  Is currently studying for a degree in fashion design.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 32-33, 51
  •        Weight Gain: 135 lbs.—147 lbs

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((And here are the remaining characters!  This marks all the speaking or named characters in the story to this point--some who have played major roles, some who are minor, and some who are one-offs.  Either way, I hope you have enjoyed them all, and look forward to more to come!))


41.       Tara Green: one of Rose’s students.  Has developed a fondness for cooking after sampling so many of the snacks Carolyn brings to classes.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 33
  •        Weight: 140 lbs.

42.       Conner Trent: one of Rose’s students.  Very no-nonsense, she did not think much of Theresa or Carolyn when they first joined.  Since learning some techniques from the former Queen Heart, she has gained a great deal of respect for them both.  Does not get along well with Nina, but few people do.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 33, 51
  •        Weight Gain: 137 lbs.—150 lbs.

43.       Zahara Morgan: one of Rose’s students.  A real softy, it is amazing she has lasted as long as she has in the class.  Often turns to Carolyn when she needs a shoulder to cry on.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 33
  •        Weight: 142 lbs.

44.       Munchies: a group of impish monsters that inspire great hunger in people and have a tendency for rhyming.  They appeared in a dream Shinobu had after gorging herself on Halloween candy.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 34-35

45.       Rea Rider: a member of the Youngblood Wrestling roster.  Cries at the drop of a hat, which completely contrasts with her demented, hardcore persona in the ring.  She is currently seeing Maxine and is fascinated with gaining.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 36-37, 52
  •        Weight Gain: 124 lbs.—143 lbs.

46.       Randy Divak: a big, burly man that is as hairy as he is fat—that is to say, lots.  He and his wife hosted their local WG/FA group’s Halloween party.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 38
  •        Weight: 474 lbs.

47.       Liz Divak: a spritely woman who loves to host.  She is as thin as Randy is fat—his biceps alone are bigger around than her waist.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 38
  •        Weight: 115 lbs.

48.       Sarah Admiratrice: a massive woman that Mickey and Ray meet while at the Halloween party.  Has been gaining since she was in college and never stopped.  Claims to have once been in the clutches of a doctor that fed her until she gained 200 pounds.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 40
  •        Weight: 744 lbs.

49.       Charles Dempsey: an English teacher and Sarah’s long-term boyfriend.  The moment they knew they were right for each other was when he emptied out the jacuzzi at his house and filled it with cheesecake, all for her.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 40
  •        Weight: 173 lbs.

50.   Arisa Boonliang-Spencer: a young businesswoman as wide as she is tall.  Arisa went to an all-girls school and was secretly fattened up by a ‘friend’.  Seems to have a black hole for a stomach.  Has a belly that’s perfect for cuddling.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 40
  •        Weight: 452 lbs.

51.   Cerys Porter: a gothic girl who recently married Arisa, her high school sweetheart.  Never wanted to be fat until, like her wife, she was unknowingly fattened up by a friend.  Has come to accept her weight, especially since her blushing bride will always outweigh her.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 40
  •        Weight: 407 lbs.

52.   Winifred Ralston: KC’s doctor.  Has the worst bedside manner and tends to shoot from the hip when it comes to her patients.  Always ties problems back to weight.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 41
  •        Weight: 119 lbs.

53.   Ananya Patel: a recent addition to the GWF roster.  Ananya is a former weightlifting champion who turned to wrestling after watching a match with Shinobu Misawa.  Despite being very green, Dave picked her to take the title from her idol.  Hated by most of the GWF universe.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 43, 45-46
  •        Weight Gain: 138 lbs.

54.   Patricia Nicholson: a veteran referee with the GWF.  Always has a smile on her face, even when she knows things could be better.  Played an integral role in screwing Shinobu out of her title by telling the timekeeper to ring the bell, despite the champion not tapping.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 43, 45
  •        Weight: 124 lbs.

55.   Terra Carter: a member of Anzu Bonny’s team at Global War.  A master of submissions, Terra knows how to lock people into a thousand different holds.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 44
  •        Weight: 133 lbs.

56.   Kaylee Gray: a member of Anzu Bonny’s team at Global War.  Kaylee used to be a dancer before her boyfriend got her into wrestling.  After proving to have far more potential than he did, Kaylee has become a fan favorite for her snappy attitude and gaudy gear.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 44
  •        Weight: 120 lbs.

57.   La Santa: a member of Anzu Bonny’s team at Global War.  Born Eva Morales, she is a luchadora who inherited the title of La Santa from her aunt.  Has trouble speaking English but knows her way around a ring.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 44
  •        Weight: 119 lbs.

58.   Lora Rose: a member of Anzu Bonny’s team at Global War.  A third generation wrestler, Lora is the most successful of her family and is something of a local hero for her small Appalachian home.  Used to be friends with Natalie Donna until Natalie screwed her boyfriend while they were doing a tour of Europe, and has joined in tormenting her.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 44, 46
  •        Weight: 139 lbs.

59.   Anzu Bonny: team leader at Global War.  Born Anzu Banno, she wrestled for many years in Japan before coming to GWF.  Has a pirate gimmick and commands the ring like a captain.  Carries a grudge for Natalie Donna, and takes it out on her whenever she can.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 44, 46
  •        Weight: 123 lbs.

60.   Elena Roma: a member of Sadie Storme’s team at Global War.  Elena is a Russian-born wrestler who competes under the name ‘Red Widow’, who never speaks.  She keeps to herself outside the ring and rarely socializes.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 44
  •        Weight: 116 lbs.

61.   Iris Lonergan: a member of Sadie Storme’s team at Global War.  Iris portrays a white nationalist while on TV, which she claims is based on members of her family.  This is in complete contrast to her personal life, where she is engaged to a Jewish nurse and regularly volunteers for the ADL.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 44
  •        Weight: 137 lbs.

62.   Elizabeth Knox: a member of Sadie Storme’s team at Global War.  Originally from Britain, Elizabeth used to have a more punk-based gimmick before adopting a formal and regal aesthetic.  Does not think highly of Natalie Donna, and is one of her new tormentors.

  •        Appearances: Chapters 44, 46
  •        Weight: 124 lbs.

63.   Vanessa Dee: the referee for the Women’s Global War match.  A stickler for the rules, Vanessa has a good eye for shenanigans and will tolerate nothing unless a storyline dictates it.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 44
  •        Weight: 146 lbs.

64.   Jolene Campano: an interviewer for GWF.  Jolene tries her best to mask her Southern accent, for fear that it will make her seem uneducated.  Tries not to be intimidated by the loud personalities around her.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 46
  •        Weight: 133 lbs.

65.   Connie Nelson: Jack Nelson’s wife and a booking agent.  Despite getting into her 60s, Connie has not slowed down and still helps her husband run Dare-Devil Wrestling.  Thinks that Mickey is on the right track, but Ray could be doing better in fattening her up for her return.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 47
  •        Weight: 164 lbs.

66.   Lora Torres: Maggie’s mother.  Lora is a single mother who loves her daughter to death, which Maggie cannot stand.  Thinks the world of Sharon, and appreciates her for all she does for her daughter.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 48
  •        Weight: 255 lbs.

67.   Wendy Ericson: Dave’s wife.  Wendy is a politician in Washington D.C. and does not participate in GWF matters as much as the rest of her family.  Despite this, she always gets a massive ovation every time she does return to the screen.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 49
  •        Weight: 124 lbs.

68.   Brianna Donowitz: Natalie and Katherine’s mother.  After inheriting her family’s chain of diners, Brianna put on a ton of weight, but has lost a good deal of it in the last year.  Loves her children, though she wishes they came by to visit more often.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 50
  •        Weight: 193 lbs.

69.   Ruth Donowitz: Natalie and Katherine’s aunt on their father’s side.  Ruth is a single mother who cannot seem to hold onto a boyfriend for long.  Has been slowly losing weight over the last year or so thanks to a new promotion freeing up more time for exercise.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 50
  •        Weight: 175 lbs.

70.   Micah and Zane Donowitz: Ruth’s twin boys.  Micah and Zane are big wrestling fans, with Micah preferring the athleticism and Zane preferring the storylines.  Both are fans of their cousins, and get plenty of free merch in return.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 50

71.   Terry Gardner: Natalie and Katherine’s uncle.  A big man by nature, he has dropped a lot of weight since Katherine last saw him.  Works in I.T.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 50
  •        Weight: 252 lbs.

72.   Sandra Gardner: Terry’s wife.  Telecommutes for her accounting job, which made her put on a good deal of weight over the years.  Recently started working out with Brianna.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 50
  •        Weight: 219 lbs.

73.   Liza Gardner: Natalie and Katherine’s grandmother.  A sweet woman, if somewhat forgetful.  Broke her hip the year prior, which actually helped her lose a good deal of weight.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 50
  •        Weight: 155 lbs.

74.   Clay Lowery: Meredith’s husband.  Runs one of Brianna’s restaurants with his wife.  A big fan of wrestling, he often talks about the wrestlers of his youth and how he could have gone pro.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 50
  •        Weight:209 lbs.

75.   Meredith Lowery: Natalie and Katherine’s aunt.  Runs a diner with Clay and often helps Brianna with corporate matters.  Inherited a lot of her father’s cooking skills.  Always has something nice to say, even when someone does not warrant it.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 50
  •        Weight: 216 lbs.

76.   Cassandra Lowery: Clay and Meredith’s daughter.  Used to play with Natalie and Katherine a lot, and was picked on by the former and patronized by the latter because of her weight.  After losing a considerable amount over the last two years and seeing her cousin’s new gluttonous attitude firsthand, she intends to exploit it and make sure she’s the thin cousin for once in her life.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 50
  •        Weight: 183 lbs.

77.   Jasmine Rook: one of Sandra Beasley’s cronies.  Acts like she’s still in high school and can do whatever she wants.  Fought with Theresa, Nina, and JJ during the Black Friday training.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 51
  •        Weight: 136 lbs.

78.   Maria Sharif: another of Sandra’s cronies.  Talks a big game but always falls behind Sandra when push comes to shove.  Fought with Theresa, Nina, and JJ during Black Friday shopping.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 51
  •        Weight: 143 lbs.

79.   Sandra Beasley: the leader of a gang of soccer moms.  Sandra is a former MMA fighter who does not look kindly on Theresa and insults her every chance she gets.  Was choked out by Theresa during a brawl at the Black Friday training.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 51
  •        Weight: 134 lbs.

80.   Christian Baker: a waiter at Max Brenner who tended to Maxine’s birthday dinner.  Damned good at his job, Christian can balance an ungodly amount of plates and cups, which is a good skill for a party of growing girls.

  •        Appearance: Chapter 52
  •        Weight: 152 lbs.

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((And now, the moment you've all been waiting for--we're back, and better than ever!  As we make our way into December, let's check in on Shinobu and see how our girl is doing after the screwjob at Global War.  How has she been holding up, and what will she do next?  You'll just have to read ahead to find out!))


After she was screwed out of her title at Global War, Shinobu Misawa spent the rest of November in a deep, dark hole.  She went about her days in a trance, going through the usual paces with a thousand-yard stare in her eyes, as she mulled over everything that had transpired.  The audience had loved her promise to hold onto the Women’s Championship belt until Mickey Ramone returned to TV, and the bookers assured her they would do everything in their power to keep it around her waist.  Unfortunately, Dave Ericson’s faith in the fan favorite decreased as her waist increased, and he made the decision to strip the belt off her.  That was insulting enough, but what made it even worse was that it was planned without her knowledge and she only found out when the bell was rung.

She left as soon as she could that night, ignoring everyone that offered their sympathies or condolences; she did not need to be reminded of the humiliating loss.  The match in of itself was one of her favorites—it was the most fun she had in a ring for quite some time—but the reason behind her losing was what hurt the most.  Shinobu knew the risk when she decided to put on weight, but she could never have known that Dave was so petty and vain that he would strip the title from her because she had plumped up.  Though the president had not said as much, she knew that was the reason; no one of a round physique made it far in the GWF.

The last few weeks of November should have been delightful for a growing girl like herself, between all the Thanksgiving feasts and preparations for Christmas.  KC Skye, her closest friend in the company, had even offered to host her for Turkey Day, but Shinobu turned her down and holed up in her apartment instead.  She could not be around people, her mind was deep in left field, and worst of all, everything she ate and drank lost their flavor.  It was as if she were consuming ash and dust; no matter what she did, she tasted nothing but emptiness.  So deep was her depression that she actually lost weight for the first time since starting her gain earlier that summer.

Finally, the silence of her apartment and the emptiness inside her could be ignored no longer, so Shinobu decided to make a change.  She already put in for time off with the federation, but she extended that into the new year; after what she went through, no one was going to fault her for needing time away.  After her time off was approved, she bought herself a roundtrip ticket to Osaka, though she had no idea when she would want to return, if ever.

All through her planning, Shinobu ignored her phone and put off calling her friends for as long as she could.  She was not much of a talker to begin with, but trying to find the right words for this were next to impossible for her.  How does one tell their friends, ‘FYI, I may not come back to work ever again?’  It was particularly painful when she imagined what KC would say—KC, who had become someone closer than a friend over the last few months.  Her heart was torn, and she had no idea how to mend it.

The day arrived before she knew it, and Shinobu was soon on the road to the airport.  Her phone was in her hand the entire trip, yet she still could not muster the courage to make that one phone call.  Even after getting everything checked in, as she waited in the terminal for her flight, she could not dial KC’s number.  If her life had been a movie, that would be the moment when KC called her and professed her love for her, and Shinobu would drop everything and book a flight out to Arkansas instead.  But this was no movie, and the pint-sized brawler was soon shuffling onto the next flight to Osaka.

“Sayonara, KC-chi,” Shinobu whispered as she shut her phone down.

A fourteen-hour plane ride is never fun, but it gets even worse when one is a little too big for the cramped airplane seats.  Even though she had lost weight in the last couple weeks, Shinobu was still squished into her window seat for a better portion of the trip.  She tried to shut her eyes and sleep from time to time, but she was always pulled back to consciousness right when she was about to pass out.  Her nerves were eating at her and she had no idea how to control them; not even eating helped, as the meager dinner lunch and dinner did little to tide her over.

As the passenger beside her snoozed, Shinobu watched in envy before returning her focus to a movie she had ordered.  Not that she was paying any attention—it was largely background noise to help her drown out her nagging thoughts.  Unfortunately, it did its job poorly, as all Shinobu had to do was look down to be reminded of her shame.  When she folded her hands over her, they rested on a globular gut that sat on her lap like a beachball full of pudding; when they rested on her arm rests, her fingers tickled her love handles.  There was no escaping her fluffy body, which she never would have thought of a few weeks prior, but now, she wanted nothing more than to shed all this flab like a lizard shedding its skin.

Her title—Mickey’s title—had been taken from her because she had indulged her desires too much and blew up like a balloon.  Never mind that she maintained her athleticism: in her line of work, appearances were everything, and she had allowed hers to go to pot. ‘Potbelly’ was the more accurate term, considering the stomach that rested on her lap; it was quickly becoming the dominant part of her figure, even though she was plumper all over.  Shinobu furrowed her brow and gave her tubby tummy a squeeze, sinking her fingers into a thick layer of pudge before releasing it again.

The worst part was that despite everything, she still loved her fat, squishy body.  It was everything she could have wanted; if she wanted more, it was to be even fatter.  Shinobu hated the fact that she wanted to feel her thighs touch all the way to her knees, pull two chairs together just to sit comfortably, and have breasts big enough that she could suckle them.  Just thinking about getting heavier and doughier made her thunder thighs clench, and she hated herself for feeling that way.  She loved overflowing her clothes, but she loved being a wrestler even more and did not want to sacrifice that just so she could turn into a human butterball.

Shinobu needed to do some hard thinking when she got home, starting with whether or not she would lose all this weight.  If the GWF did not see any value in her as she got fatter, what would other promotions think?


By the time the plane touched down again, the stout superstar was more than ready to disembark.  She worked her way through the mass of people exiting the plane, waddled through the airport, and got herself a ticket for the next train into Morinomiya.  Once the train started rolling down the tracks, the familiar sounds and feeling did what an international flight could not do and lulled Shinobu to sleep.  The rest was a welcome reprieve for the exhausted girl, who was so exhausted that her eyes felt like they were burning.

Unfortunately, her slumber was not entirely pleasant, as not even her dreams were safe from the doubts that plagued her.  Shinobu opened her eyes to find herself at a food stall in the middle of a busy marketplace, with a balding chef glaring down at her.  The man sneered, “What’ll it be, mochi girl?”

The wrestler blushed a fine pink and meekly mumbled, “I…I’m not really hungry.”

“Yeah, sure,” the chef scoffed. “There’s no way a pig like you isn’t hungry all the time.  With a belly like that, you must eat your weight in food just to feel full.  Kids these days, I swear.”

“I’m not that fat!” Shinobu squeaked before the chef shot her another glare.

“Is that right?  Then how about you prove me wrong—try not to eat everything I put in front of you,” her tormentor challenged.

The first temptation was a plate of takoyaki—battered octopus.  Despite her protestations, Shinobu scooped the balls up with her bare hands and tossed them into her mouth, smearing her chubby cheeks with sauce.  She licked her lips and patted her generous stomach as a familiar warmth filled her body.  Eating felt so good and right, especially after all this time.

“More for the mochi girl in the Missile Club shirt,” the chef taunted as he set down a bowl full of pork ramen, complete with fatty strips of bacon and two boiled eggs. “Dig in, tubby.”

“Itadakimasu,” the wrestler grunted around a mouthful of soup.  She greedily gobbled up the bacon and eggs before slurping up all the noodles in the bowl without taking so much as a breath.  Once she cleared the soup of all but the broth, she tossed her chopsticks away, picked up the bowl, and tilted it to her lips.  The hearty broth raced down her gullet as Shinobu gurgled happily, even as a trickle of soup ran down her cheeks and stained her shirt.

No sooner had she set the bowl down than the chef returned with a plate of steaming okonomiyaki, piled high with cabbage, kimchi, and more bacon.  Shinobu licked her lips and tore into the dish with reckless abandon, covering herself with crumbs and sauce with each sloppy mouthful.  Etiquette went right out the window in favor of filling the hole in her stomach now that she could finally eat food again without feeling guilty.

By the fourth plate, it was clear that Shinobu had lost her wager with the chef, even though she had long since forgotten it.  He continued to put food in front of her, and the voracious girl would wolf it down in seconds and demand more.  This was repeated again and again, and each new dish made Shinobu fatten up a little more.  Her arms swelled with blubber until they were fat cones tearing through her sleeves, and her shoulders softened and melded with the thick scarf of flab that coated her neck.  The stain-riddled shirt was stretched so tight around her bosom that the words became illegible, and cavernous cleavage presented itself through the fraying neckline.

All this was chump change compared to the mammoth gut that she had grown with every bite.  If Shinobu thought her potbelly was fat before, then she was absolutely enormous at that point, as the mountainous stomach filled her lap all the way to her knees.  There was no hope of her shirt containing so much pasty pudge, especially when there was no end in sight to all the food.  It rested heavily on her mattress thighs and filled her with so much warmth, as if she had swallowed a furnace.

Those thighs were now as wide around as her waist once was, and not only did they touch all the way to her knees—they overlapped the overtaxed joints.  They led around to a backside that was full and flabby, oozing over her barstool so much that it was impossible to find the seat cushion underneath.  She could hear it creaking, but Shinobu paid it little mind as she stuffed strips of piping hot tonkatsu down her throat.

“Bui!” the porcine girl squealed as she tumbled to the floor.

Thankfully, Shinobu was so well-padded that she only felt a slight bump when she landed on the concrete.  Unfortunately, the impact caused her well-worn jeans to tear straight down the middle, exposing polka-dotted panties with a teddy bear at the top.  Flat on her back, the overfed girl tried to get up, but like a turtle on its shell, could only wriggle and writhe under the weight of her belly.  Her head fell back against the floor and she groaned, too stuffed to breathe, much less get up.

“Looks like I had you right all along, Misawa,” the chef taunted as he walked around from behind the counter. “I knew you were too much of a glutton to be a champion, and this just proves it.”

Howling with laughter, the chef spun in place and changed into the sneering form of Dave Ericson bedecked in flowing red robes with a high collar and golden medallion.  He prodded her gut with a pointed boot and jeered, “Look at the state of you!  No one wants to see that on a champion: they want people that look fit and powerful, not so fat that running around the ring might give them a heart attack.  Admit it, Debu Rider—you’re nothing but a weak pile of lard!”

Shinobu opened her mouth to protest, but all that came out was a thunderous belch.  It was hard to deny the accusation, given the absolute state she was in; she might have had a case when she weighed 200 pounds, but not 400.  She struggled to get up, to prove the diabolical old man wrong, but she simply did not have the strength.  Everything he said was true about her, and she was only now acknowledging it.  How had she ever thought she could be a champion and a fat ass at the same time?


“Don’t do it, Shin-chan!” a voice cried out.

Shinobu’s eyes went wide and she turned her head to face the source of the voice—one that she knew so very well.  Standing at the front of a crowd of onlookers was her beloved KC, bedecked in an orange jumpsuit that clung to every inch of her thickened body.  The aerialist’s fists were clenched as she called out again, “Don’t do it!  You’re one of the best wrestlers in the world, no matter what you weigh!  You can beat him—you just have to try!”

“Silence!” Dave roared as red lightning shot from his fingertips and blew KC into the sky.

That attack was all it took for Shinobu to rally.  With a cry of pure rage, she swiped a fat leg out and knocked her treacherous employer off his feet.  The overloaded wrestler then rolled to one side, grabbed a bar stool, and used every muscle in her lard-caked body to get to her feet.  She hefted her belly up with one hand while the other reached to a glowing belt buckle and gave it a spin.

“Henshin!” Shinobu called out, summoning a wave of colors around her body.

In an instant, she was transformed into the masked heroine known as Debu Rider—defender of honor and justice!  She wore a black shirt underneath a green chest plate that normally covered her entire middle, but given the circumstances, it currently left a strip of pale blubber on display.  Her lower body was squeezed into a pair of black tights stretched so thin that they were translucent in places.  Shielding her head was a helmet designed to look like a pill bug’s face, and though no one could see it, it pinched her plump chin.

“Your days are over, Great Leader Ericson!” the heroine declared. “Surrender to justice!”

“So, you can still stand,” Dave grunted as he pulled himself from the floor. “No matter—I’ve created a weapon that will make sure you never get up again.  Ananya!”

Out of the kitchen strode Ananya Patel, bedecked in a gold and red version of Shinobu’s suit.  A collar wrapped tight around her neck beeped in time with her heartbeat, and she had a hollow look in her eyes.  Shinobu felt a twinge of envy when she saw how her opponent’s suit suited her muscular body, in comparison to her own, flabby form.  She choked back those bitter feelings and clenched her fists in preparation for the fight.

“I may be big, but as long as my heart still beats, I’ll keep fighting!” Shinobu announced.

“Then you’ll die fighting,” Dave retorted. “Attack, my Champion Rider!”

Ananya bowed and dipped low into a fighting stance, muscles tightening like springs before releasing and flying across the restaurant.  Just before her kick connected with Shinobu’s stuffed stomach, she said, “The next station is Morinomiya.  Thank you!”


The moment the kick landed, Shinobu woke up with a start.  She was still on the train, still a thick 190, and still not a superhero.  At least she was finally able to get some well-earned sleep, even if she felt strangely full after the bizarre dream.  Gathering up her two bags, the portly girl waddled her way to the doors and waited for the train to pull up to the station.  By the time the doors opened, the dream was all but forgotten, vanished into the aether of her mind.

Shinobu quickly made her way to the main road outside the station and glanced to her phone.  She had already reached out to her parents to let them know she was going to be visiting, but she had yet to get in contact with any of her friends from GWF.  There were dozens of messages from several people, especially from Mickey and KC, but shame kept the former champion from responding.  Instead, she thought back to a pleasant dream a few months prior and sent out a message to two of her friends from school—Ayano and Miyuki.

Back in town for a while.  Want to get together and catch up sometime?” Shinobu hummed into her phone while she hailed a taxi.

She did not need to wait long for a reply.  Ayano, ever chatty, answered with a garbled “Sdhjuinmxchjaqmn!

Before Shinobu could ask what that meant, Ayano quickly replied, “Sorry—my fat fingers got in the way.  I’d love to get together, Shin-chan!  We have so much to catch up on!  There’s a new restaurant you’ve got to try—we’ll meet there!”

Miyuki was next to answer, “Oh, Ayano…that does sound good though.  Can’t wait to see you, Shin-chan!”

Shinobu smiled softly and sent a kissy face to her old friends before climbing into a cab.  Despite the unpleasant circumstances, she was looking forward to being home for however long she planned on staying.  So many old faces to see and so many things she wanted to do…which, at that moment, amounted to getting some food.  For the first time in weeks, she felt genuinely hungry—so much that it hurt.  Maybe she could get some ramen once she checked into the hotel…

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((Sorry for the delay with this chapter, folks.  The last week or so hasn't been the best for me, but I'm trying to get back into the swing of things.  I hope that you all enjoy this chapter  all the same.))


After gorging herself on three bowls of ramen, the most she had eaten in a single meal over the last few weeks, Shinobu was ready to pass out.  First though, she had to shower—anything to get the stink of travel and ramen off her.  The stout girl sluggishly shucked off her clothes and waddled into the bathroom with one hand underneath her doughy gut.  It had been so long since she felt so full, and she had to take shallow breaths just to keep from getting sick all over the floor.

“Worth it,” she murmured before hiccupping. “So very worth it.”

The warm water of the shower was a blessing on her supple skin and Shinobu hummed contentedly as she felt all her weariness wash down the drain.  She gingerly rubbed her bloated stomach, gently caressing the firm portion while wobbling the squishy portion beneath.  Her fingers slid along the divide of her double-tiered tummy and, on finding her belly button, dipped inside and wobbled it like pudding.  In all her misery, the widening wrestler had not been able to enjoy her corpulence like this in days, and she found it to be pure bliss.

“So stuffed…feels so good…more fat for my belly,” Shinobu huffed, her breath catching in her throat with every quiver of her stomach.  A familiar tingling between her thunder thighs had her squirming on her feet, but before she could act on it, she felt a cramp race through her side.  That burst of pain reminded her just how full of noodles and soup she truly was, so she settled instead for rubbing soap all across her body.

“Spoilsport,” the wrestler scolded her belly. “I thought I trained you better than that.”

When the globular lump of lard grumbled in reply, Shinobu smirked and gave it a loving pat. “It’s okay…you’re just out of practice.  We’ll get you back to form in no time, don’t worry.”

After rinsing herself clean and gently toweling off, being especially careful around her queasy stomach, the stout girl stifled a mighty yawn and plodded to her bed.  She was out like a light as soon as she tucked herself under the covers, and she was blessed with a dreamless sleep—the last thing she needed was for Dave Ericson to invade her dreams again.  The only thoughts running through her head were counting how many calories were in the bowls of ramen she had devoured, and what that would do to her softening body.

When she woke to the sun shining on her, Shinobu grumbled and turned over in a vain attempt for a few more minutes to herself.  It nearly worked, but her stomach would not allow her to sleep when there was breakfast to be had.  Having digested her massive meal from the night before, her greedy gut demanded to be fed and would not take ‘no’ for an answer.  With her mood rejuvenated, it was hard to deny her appetite, and so the bleary-eyed brawler crawled out of bed and into a pair of sweatpants that squeezed tight around her gelatinous booty.

“What do you think?  You want to get something quick from the 7-11?” Shinobu asked her belly as she covered it with a flowing sweatshirt.  When it grumbled at her like a petulant child, she hummed, “Maybe some Mister Donut would be good—we haven’t had that since we came home last!”

That suggestion was met with a quiet gurgle, which Shinobu took as an affirmative.  She patted her stomach like a caring mother would a baby bump and smiled contentedly.  It was a good thing she was in the privacy of her hotel room—she would have made for quite the picture, talking to her fat gut like an imaginary friend.

It was still early enough that the streets were quiet, especially near her hotel, which Shinobu was thankful for.  She enjoyed the solitude as she waddled down the road; it allowed her to take in the surroundings much easier and remind herself that she was truly home.  There was the Takoyaki stall where the vendor always gave her a little extra on her orders, the hobby store that she used to get all her DVDs from, and the alley where she had beaten up a group of thugs who looked at her the wrong way.  She had so many memories about Osaka, and they all came rushing back to her on her trek to the donut shop.

When she finally arrived, a line was already forming—those heading into work and those coming back from a late night.  Shinobu bided her time by studying the various pastries and planning out what she ought to get; with how vocal her stomach was, she felt like she could eat half the store and still have room.  Should she get some green tea donuts, or perhaps some orange?  Maybe she should stick with something simple, like a chocolate or strawberry.  Why did there have to be so many flavors?

“Ma’am?  Are you ready to order?” asked the cashier.

Shinobu snapped to attention and gave an apologetic wave to the people behind her in line before scooting up to the register.  She gave one last look to the display case before turning to the attendant and asking, “Could I please have a dozen donuts and a green tea, please?”

“Of course,” the cashier replied politely as he whipped out a box and began gathering up the donuts Shinobu pointed out to him.  While he worked, he glanced up to his plump customer and asked, “Say, aren’t you a wrestler?”

Shinobu blushed and tried to shrink into her clothes, but nodded in affirmation all the same.  While she appreciated being recognized by the public, she was still rather bashful and tried not to attract attention to herself—not when out of character, that is.  She answered, “Yes, I’m Shinobu Misawa.  Are you a fan?”

“I watch a little bit online, but one of our girls in the kitchen loves this stuff,” the young man replied with a chuckle. “Let me call her out.  Hey, Kanako—we’ve got a celebrity here!”

A tiny, high-pitched voice shouted back, “I’m not falling for that again, Ren!  Last week, you said it was Kenny Omega, and the week before that was Hiroshi Fujioka!  Not buying it this time!”

Ren sheepishly grinned at Shinobu, who smirked at the mischievous cashier and glanced back at the kitchen doors.  She called out, “Kanako?  This is Shinobu Misawa.  I hear you’re a wrestling fan?”

There was the sound of clattering trays in the back and feet quickly scampering across the floor before Kanako burst out of the kitchen.  She was a petite girl, even smaller than the diminutive Shinobu, and wore her hair tied up in pigtails.  Her body was stocky and plump, and it was clear that she needed to get a bigger apron.  When she saw Shinobu on the other side of the counter, her eyes went wide as dinner plates and she clapped her hands over her mouth.  It was a reaction the young wrestler sometimes got from super-fans, and this gave her a good indication of how much of one Kanako was.

“You must be Kanako,” Shinobu politely giggled. “It’s nice to meet you—”

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh,” the girl chirped excitedly. “Immortal Slayer Shinobu is in my donut shop!  Everyone in the wrestling club is going to be so jealous!”

Kanako rushed around the counter and all but tackled her idol when she got close.  Shinobu’s face lit up in a grin as the young girl squeezed her tight as if she were a teddy bear stuffed to the brim with fluff.  It had been a dog’s age since anyone referred to her as ‘The Immortal Slayer’, her old ring name when she was fresh out of the dojo.  That had been her first foray into cosplaying as part of her gimmick, as she died her hair a fiery red and came down to the ring like a character from an anime she enjoyed as a kid.  It got over fine with the crowd when she first debuted, but she was destined for bigger and better things.

“Been a while since I’ve been a slayer, but good callback,” Shinobu chuckled as she patted Kanoko on the back.

“Oh, the Slayer is my favorite version of you: with the whole fantasy look, the music, and that cool trick with the fireballs you always used to do at the end of a match,” the young fan gleefully explained before quickly adding, “Not that I don’t love all your other gimmicks!  When you went into the Beach Brawl last year as Cammy?  That was classic!”

After letting go of Shinobu, Kanoko fished around in her apron for her phone and asked, “Would it be all right if I got a picture with you?  It would make my year.”

“For an Immortal Slayer fan?  Absolutely,” Shinobu answered with a grin that formed dimples in her chubby cheeks.

Kanoko pulled out her cell phone and held it up and away to get the best shot of her and her idol, while Shinobu helped by wrapping a meaty arm around her fan’s shoulder and pulling in close.  They both stuck their tongues out and pumped their fists like punk rockers as Kanoko’s camera went off again and again.  The two of them could have taken pictures all morning long, but they were interrupted by an increasingly impatient Ren.

“Kanoko, I know this is cool for you and everything, but I can’t run the register and make donuts,” the young man grumbled. “Besides, Miss Slayer’s order is ready and waiting.”

“Spoilsport,” the starstruck girl retorted.  She turned back to Shinobu and puffed up her cheeks in frustration. “Sorry…I really do need to get back to work.  It was so cool to meet you!  How long will you be staying over here?”

Shinobu shrugged her shoulders while she picked up her box of donuts and handed Ren a crisp bill. “Hard to say, but I do know one thing—I’m definitely coming back here for more.  I’m sure I’ll see you around, kid.”

Kanoko squealed in delight before vanishing back into the kitchen once again, where she could be heard giggling like a child that had just gotten a new toy.  Shinobu chuckled and shook her head at the display, knowing she would have probably done the same thing if she were in Kanoko’s shoes and Bull Nakano had stopped by.  She gave Ren a polite wave as she trotted out of the shop with a spring in her step, something that she had not had in the last several weeks.  Perhaps this trip was a good idea after all: it was just her first morning back, and she already felt more like herself than she had since losing the title.

As Shinobu made the short trip back to her hotel room, the aroma of the fresh baked donuts roused her belly like a sleeping beast and it demanded to be fed with a greedy growl.  The wobbly wrestler turned a fine pink, glanced around the street to make sure no one was around or paying attention, and then slapped her stomach.

“Hush up,” she hissed at the doughy mass, “you’re going to be fed soon enough, so be patient.”

Rather than settle down, her gluttonous gut rumbled even louder and sent a pang through her side that made Shinobu wince.  It seemed as if her appetite were making up for lost time; she could not remember the last time she was so hungry.  She wanted to observe some decorum and hold off until she was in the privacy of her room, but her stomach would not be denied.  Like a spoiled brat, it was not afraid to kick and scream until it got its way, and like a weary parent, Shinobu was more than willing to indulge it to get it to stop.

“All right, we’ll have one—just one—and then we’ll have a couple back at the hotel,” Shinobu told her belly. “Deal?”

When that seemed to placate her stomach, she opened the box and gazed adoringly at the assortment of goodies arranged so nicely.  Since they all looked lovely, delicious, and deliciously lovely, so she shut her eyes, reached in, and blindly fished out a stuffed donut.  Shinobu took one bite and let out a long, low moan as sweet red bean paste filled her mouth.  It took her right back to lunch time at school and fighting her way to the snack stand to get the best treats.

“Oh, that’s so good,” Shinobu purred. “I have missed you so much, my fried, flaky friends.  We’re going to get reacquainted very soon though, don’t worry.”

Fighting the urge to wolf down the donut on the spot, the wrestler took a sip of her tea before continuing her trek back to the hotel, albeit at a much faster pace than before.  Her thick thighs brushed feverishly against each other as she powerwalked with all her might; she did not want to run and risk spilling her glorious breakfast all over the cold, unforgiving sidewalk.  When she got to the hotel, Shinobu gave the front desk clerks a polite nod before toddling over to the elevators and jamming the up button over and over until one of the lifts opened up for her.  She was bouncing on the balls of her feet as she waited until she reached the 35th floor, the scent of the donuts taunting her with each passing second.

Finally, Shinobu reached her room, and she all but slammed the door once she was inside.  She did up every lock available before running over to the desk and gently placing the box down as if it were a newborn baby.  Once she got settled into the desk chair, the ravenous girl threw open the lid and looked down upon the donuts like a fox in a henhouse.

“I really ought to save a few for Ayano and Miyuki, but they’re probably watching their weights right now,” Shinobu reasoned with herself as she plucked a chocolate frosted beauty out. “So if I eat them all, that’s just me being a good friend; I’m just watching out for their waistlines.”

And just like that, Shinobu was off to the races.  She was not prone to glutting herself, despite her desire to pile on pounds, but after having little appetite over the last few weeks, she threw caution to the wind.  That one donut was followed by another, and then another, and another after that, and Shinobu barely batted an eye.  She took a brief pause to wash the donuts with a long sip of tea, and then she returned to stuffing her stomach all over again.  It felt so good to be eating again—so right—that she wished she had ordered another dozen donuts to go along with this.

“So, so good,” Shinobu cooed in between bites, reveling in her gluttonous ecstasy. “It should be illegal for donuts to taste this good!”

As she stuffed herself like never before, all her doubts and concerns since her loss at Global War were buried under a growing mountain of fried dough and various icings and fillings.  Who cared if she put on a few dozen pounds?  She was Shinobu Misawa, one of the toughest wrestlers in the business and beloved by thousands—if anyone should feel sorry, it was the GWF for screwing her out of her title and trashing a storyline fans actually wanted.  If she wanted to enjoy herself and eat what she wanted, that was within her rights; Dave Ericson could not and would not control her weight.

Soon, even those thoughts of anger passed in favor of focusing on the spread in front of her.  Shinobu was an eating machine: she had one donut in each hand and alternated taking bites from both with a sip of tea.  One would think that such calculated gorging would ruin the experience, but the gluttonous wrestler was having the time of her life as she filled her belly to the brim.  Each new treat brought with it a tantalizing flavor that doused her taste buds in goodness, to the point that she could not pick a favorite from the bunch.

Before she knew it, Shinobu was eating nothing but air and only slurping up melted ice from her cup.  She snapped out of her haze for a moment and rested her hands on the firm bulge in her belly, where her sizeable breakfast had made its way.  A few short breaths escaped her throat and she groaned with a new sense of pain as her mind caught up with her body.  Not since starting her gain had she stuffed herself so much, and she almost regretted it—almost, until she licked a flake of sugary glaze from her lips and hummed with bliss.

“Damn good donuts,” she cooed before stifling a burp. “Better be careful; don’t want to get fat.”

Shinobu giggled at her little joke and squeezed the soft pudge of her underbelly while she lay back in her chair and let her feast digest.  It had been so long since she could genuinely enjoy food, she could not help but overindulge; she would have eaten to the point of popping if she had more.  Between this and the ramen from the night prior, her appetite was back in spades, and she was not about to chain it up again.  She was going to forget all about her worries over in the Global Wrestling Federation and enjoy her trip here, especially all the food she could only find when she was home.

When she felt capable, the wrestler gently rocked herself to her feet and waddled a few feet over to her bed to lay down again.  She treaded carefully, going through each action as if she were in slow motion so as to not jostle her bloated belly.  A hiccup escaped her lips as she lay her head down on the pillows and cradled her stomach, fingers tracing over the solid mass of the stuffed portion and the supple lard beneath.  Sluggishly, she peeled off her top so she could see the full extent of her damage, and she smiled with pride at the creamy, buttery globe that jutted out from her waist.  It was a work of art, and it was only going to become better over the course of her vacation.

“I might just get bigger than Mickey before this is over,” Shinobu purred while rubbing her hands across her gut like it was a genie’s lamp.  Thoughts of her immense friend and rival filled her head as she drifted off to sleep once again, and she wondered what everyone would say if she waddled off the plane twice as big as Mickey Ramone.  She could see them all gawking at her balloon of a belly leading her way, slapping against her knees with every lumbering step she took, and it filled her with desire.  She wanted that more than any championship, and no one was going to deny her ever again...

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((And we're back with a brand new chapter!  This wraps up our visit with Shinobu, but don't worry--she'll be back soon!  In the meantime, sit back and enjoy the best wrestling story there is, the best there was, and the best there ever will be!))


After sleeping off her early morning gorge, Shinobu threw on some proper clothes to meet her friends for lunch.  Her outfit for the day was a long skirt that fell almost to her ankles and a blouse beneath a fluffy sweater, both of which were chosen for how they masked her gain.  Though the waistband bit into her balloon of a belly, her skirt was flowing and billowed out enough to hide how wide she was getting.  Likewise, the sweater was able to hide her fluffy arms and pillowy middle, leaving only her face as a sign that she had put on any weight.  It was not as if she was ashamed of her gain anymore, but rather, she did not want to shock Ayano and Miyuki with how plump she had gotten since their high school days.

It had been years since she had seen the girls, and though they spoke occasionally, they had never had a chance to meet up since graduation.  Shinobu had been busy traveling the world, while Ayano and Miyuki had apparently gone into the restaurant business.  She was proud of her friends and what they had accomplished; in just a few years, they had become successful businesswomen in their own right.  In fact, they were going to have lunch at their establishment, right in Q’s Mall Base, to commemorate the reunion.

It was a short hop and a skip from the hotel to the mall, but Shinobu was not about to waste precious calories with all that walking.  Instead, it was a quick taxi ride to Q’s Mall Base, and from there, she simply needed to find the restaurant called Friendship.  There were a number of tantalizing restaurants in the mall, and they covered a wide range of dishes.  If she so desired, Shinobu could have gotten pizza, pork buns, or ramen, and then gotten some donuts, ice cream, or cake rolls for dessert.  There was a plethora of options and she would be sure to taste them all over the course of her sabbatical, but she had her heart set on one thing only.

At last, she found Friendship—a cozy little shop with red walls and a modest interior.  Shinobu waddled in and told the hostess, “Excuse me, I’m here to have lunch with Miss Urai and Miss Shirai?”

“You must be Ms. Misawa,” the hostess remarked with a polite smile.  “Let me show you to your table, and I’ll let the managers know you’re here.”

Shinobu followed after the hostess and took the opportunity to get a lay of the land.  The restaurant was unassuming, which fit with Ayano and Miyuki; of their friend circle, Shinobu had always been the most outgoing.  Still, the atmosphere was pleasant and inviting, and the patrons all seemed to be enjoying their food.  And the food itself?  Shinobu had to fight the urge to steal a bite from each plate she passed by.  It all looked and smelled exquisite; it was easy to see how her friends had become successful.  Chunky beef curry, crispy tonkatsu, and golden tempura dishes filled her vision, just to name a few, and Shinobu could not wait to get a menu in her hands and see what else was available.

“Here we are.  Ms. Urai and Ms. Shirai should be right out,” the hostess told Shinobu once they arrived at a table in a more secluded part of the restaurant.

“Thank you very much,” the wrestler replied as she took a seat.

It was only when she sat down that she noticed there was a picture on the wall across from the table, and a pink blush filled her cheeks when she realized what it was.  There, for all the world to see, was a picture of the moment she won the Women’s Championship earlier that year.  It felt like it was a lifetime ago after all that had happened in the ensuing months, but she could never forget the exhilaration that filled her when her hand was raised by the referee and she held the title belt aloft.  Though she had put on several dozen pounds of flab since then, the memory brought back feelings of pride that had been buried under misery and pity over the last few weeks.

Shinobu was so caught up in her memories that she did not notice her old friends approaching—at least, not until she heard heavy plodding like a hippo had wandered in.  When she turned around in her seat, her eyes went wide as dinner plates at the sight of a very different Miyuki and Ayano.  Gone were the petite girls she had known in school; in their place were two whales masquerading as women.

Miyuki was the thinner of the two, though she was still far plumper than the average woman.  She kept her bleached blonde hair in a pixie bob, which was about the only thing that had remained the same about her.  A once sharp and angular face had rounded out with soft cheeks and a pinchable double chin, and her arms were thick tubes of pudge that tested the sleeves of her coat.  Bouncing atop her belly were a pair of breasts that had become generous handfuls, though they paled in comparison to the gut that lay beneath.  Miyuki’s stomach surged outwards as if she had shoved a pillow up her blouse, and the undersized garment struggled to contain her girth.  Her lower body was not nearly as impressive as the rest of her, but her clothes still strained around her overfilled curves.

Compared to Ayano however, Miyuki looked like a twig.  Ayano was a head shorter than Miyuki and even Shinobu, but she made up in weight what she lacked in height.  Not a single inch of her body was thin: her face was swaddled in thick fat that completely hid her neck, her arms were bigger than her waist in high school, and her breasts were as big as her head and full of blubber.  Her sausage fingers fiddled with her blouse, tugging fruitlessly in an effort to keep her mammoth belly contained while still keeping her buttons.  That blimp of a gut bounced and wobbled against her fat-caked knees and stuck out so far from her body that much of the ground was hidden from her.  All this was complemented with a massive backside and hips that could have served as a table for two.

Shinobu was at a loss for words, and she was not sure if it was because of how fat her friends had become or that she was now the slimmest of the three.  Nevertheless, the initial shock quickly passed and she slid out of her seat with a squeal of glee.

“Miyuki-chan!  Ayano-chan!” the wrestler exclaimed as she hugged her friends.  “It’s so, so good to see you again!”

“You too, Shin-chan!” Miyuki giggled.  Hugging her was easy enough, though Shinobu was pleasantly surprised with how plush Miyuki now felt.  It was a far cry from the stick-thin girl that had worked her way through high school and never seemed to absorb a single calorie.

Hugging Ayano was a different story, though wonderful all the same.  When Shinobu wrapped her arms around the short girl, she found that not only could she not wrap her arms all the way around Ayano’s expansive back—she could not even get her fingers to touch.  Squeezing Ayano was like playing with a soft, pliable ball of mochi, and Shinobu felt that if she held on for too long, she might just sink into the layers of blubber that encased her friend.

“You look amazing, Shin-chan,” Ayano remarked after releasing Shinobu.  “Of course, you’ve always looked good, but you might be in the best shape of your life!”

“Oh, stop,” Shinobu giggled and brushed off the compliment with blushing cheeks.  “I’ve done a little bulking up since I became champion—a little too much, if you ask my bosses.”

“Guess it’s a good thing we’re not wrestlers then—we wouldn’t even make it to the ring,” Ayano laughed in turn.

As the trio sat down, Miyuki pulled the unused fourth chair around and set it beside Ayano’s, which confused Shinobu until she watched her globular friend try to sit.  Ayano had become so vast that her backside required both chairs to sit comfortably, and even with those two, her flab still rolled off on either side of her.  Not that it seemed to bother her though—the petite pile of pudge looked to be as happy as a pig in the mud.

“How’s it feel, being back home again?” asked Miyuki.  “The flight wasn’t too bad, I hope.”

Shinobu waved off the concern and answered, “It’s nothing I can’t handle.  At least I didn’t have to rush to be on time for a show—I swore I would never do that again after we scrambled to get to Charlotte after performing in Saudi Arabia.”

“Well, it’s great to see you again all the same,” Ayano replied.  “How long do you think you’ll be here?  Long enough for us to get together more than just this once, I hope.”

It took Shinobu a moment to answer, largely because she herself did not know how long her sabbatical would be.  She finally answered, “We’re definitely going to make up for lost time, Ayano-chan, you can count on that.  I need some time away from the ring—that ring, to be specific.”

She punctuated her response with a point at the picture on the wall, and Miyuki nodded in understanding.  “We don’t watch every match, but we try to keep up when you come up in the news.  I’m sorry about what happened—you looked like a good champion.”

“Definitely the coolest,” Ayano agreed.  “But you just forget about all that while you’re here.  We’re going to have a good time, and we don’t need any wrestling to do that.  What we need is some good cooking—Friendship cooking!”

“I’m looking forward to getting a taste,” Shinobu remarked with a grin.  “Everything looked and smelled so good, I had to resist swiping a little from every plate I came across.”

“Then let’s get you your own plate,” Miyuki chuckled, “but I’ll warn you, we have some big portions here.  Think you can handle them?”

Shinobu smirked and leaned on the table as she replied, “Miyuki-chan, I can take whatever you throw at me; I didn’t get to eighty-seven kilos by skipping any meals.”

“That may be true, but I don’t know if you can eat like we can,” Ayano remarked with a pat to her gelatinous gut.  It wobbled beneath her clothes, and Shinobu could swear she heard threads straining from the motion, and only stopped when Ayano rested her hand against it.  “I’m already a fat ass in mind and body, and I don’t think a skinny little thing like you could keep up.”

That only served to spark the competitive fire in Shinobu.  She leaned back in her chair and tugged her sweater up so her friends could see her gut struggling to break free from her skirt as she told the two, “Skinny little thing?  I may not be as big as you, Ayano-chan, but I’m pretty beefy.  I think I can hold my own against you both.”

Ayano put a finger to the ring of fat she called a chin and asked, “Care to make it interesting?”

“Always,” Shinobu answered with a cocksure grin.

“We’ll hold a punishment game: if you can keep up with me for the entire meal, you get to choose a punishment for me; if you stop, I get to give you a punishment.  Deal?” Ayano asked as she stuck out a fat hand as thick as a mitten.

“Deal,” replied Shinobu.

After the two shook hands, Miyuyki waved a waiter over and they all placed their orders.  The sensible one of the trio ordered a meal plate consisting of a hamburger patty, fried shrimp, a shrimp cream croquette, and fried chicken, along with rice and miso soup.  To keep things comparable, Ayano and Shinobu both ordered hamburger curry—a favorite of Shinobu’s ever since she was a child.  They chatted pleasantly about this and that while they waited for the food to be prepared, but Shinobu always had one eye on the kitchen.  Now that she was in an impromptu eating contest, her appetite had skyrocketed and she felt like she could eat everything in the restaurant.

When the food finally arrived, the wrestler was not disappointed.  In front of her was a large plate of rice with one half coated in thick brown curry sauce and topped with a juicy burger patty.  Before digging in, she clapped her hands together, bowed to the delectable bowl, and hummed, “Itadakimasu!”

After that, Shinobu was off to the races.  She ate without abandon, as if she had not gorged herself on a dozen donuts not a few hours prior, and shoveled rice, curry, and burger into her mouth at a frightening pace.  It was so hard to find Japanese style curry in the States, and even then, it did not taste quite as good as this.  There was something about the warm, savory flavor that reminded her of home—of curling up under her kotatsu and spending a cold winter day watching TV.  It was so good, she wolfed it down in a matter of moments, before Ayano had even finished her bowl.

“It looks like I underestimated you, Shin-chan,” the portly girl marveled at her friend’s speedy eating.  “And here I thought you were a lightweight.”

“Nothing—ulp—light about me, Ayano-chan,” Shinobu replied with a sly grin, marred only by an onset of hiccups.  “I might just win this after all!  I’ll have to think up a good punishment for you, missy.”

Ayano shrugged her hefty shoulders and told her cocky friend, “It’s a marathon, not a sprint, Shin-chan.  Keep eating like that, and you won’t have room for long.”

The widening wrestler scoffed and slapped her stomach.  “Please—coming home has brought back my appetite like you wouldn’t believe.  I can’t lose!”


“I am so going to lose,” Shinobu groaned as she struggled to finish her fifth bowl.

After such an impressive start, the homecoming wrestler thought she could maintain her pace throughout the meal, but she began to falter midway through her third bowl.  Rice and beef will fill a person up, and with the way she had been eating, she was filling up fast.  Her belly was inflating like a balloon as she filled it up, and it pushed against her waistband in an effort to escape the confines of her skirt.  She would have rubbed it for comfort, but all her energy was focused on lifting her spoon to her lips—and even that was becoming a challenge for her.

“Something wrong, Shin-chan?” asked Ayano, who was also on her fifth bowl.  Unlike her smaller companion, she had maintained a steady clip over the course of their lunch and caught up to Shinobu with ease.  “You look a little green in the gills.”

“Just…just catching my breath,” Shinobu muttered as she brought another spoonful of curry-soaked rice to mouth.  Her body had become so sluggish that it felt like she was trying to lift a spoonful of marble granite and her arms felt like they were filled with wet cement.

“I think you’re doing wonderful, Shin-chan,” Miyuki complimented her friend.  She was taking her time with her meal, savoring the flavors of each piece before moving onto the next.  It was why she was nowhere near as fat as Ayano—Miyuki favored quality over quantity and only ate until she was pleasantly full.

Shinobu stifled a belch before replying, “Thanks, but I’m not sure I can keep going.  Guess you were right—you really do have some big portions here.”

“That’s why you’ve got to be smart when you eat,” Ayano chuckled while she dug into her bowl. “You don’t get a belly like mine by stuffing yourself until you’re sick.”

“Guess my eyes were bigger than my stomach,” Shinobu muttered.  She put a fist to her mouth and let out a low burp.  “Oof…excuse me.  You win, Ayano-chan—I couldn’t eat another bite.”

“Sure you can’t finish off that bowl?  It’s just a few spoonfuls,” Miyuki asked the bleary-eyed girl.

She really did not need to finish it all; she had thrown in the proverbial towel for a reason.  All that curry and rice had Shinobu feeling like a lead balloon, and she feared that just one more grain would make her pop.  Still, it would be rude to not finish it after making it that far, and she had only her greedy gut to blame for getting her into this challenge.  She could always pass out at her hotel room again when this was over, assuming she did not burst before she got there.

With spirit rekindled, Shinobu picked her spoon back up and resumed her struggle.  Eating her way through this final dish reminded her of the first time she had truly pigged out—lunch at Mickey Ramone’s apartment last June.  She thought about how much things had changed in the span of the past six months: she had become champion, rediscovered her desire for gaining, lost the championship, and might have fallen for one of her best friends in the industry.  It had been a whirlwind ever since that first lunch with Mickey and KC, and now she was back in Osaka, gorging herself on hamburger curry until she was up to her eyeballs in the stuff.

“Well done, Shin-chan!  You ate it like a true champion!” Miyuki applauded.

Shinobu gazed with bleary eyes at the empty bowl in front of her and realized she had managed to eat every last grain of rice and speck of beef.  Her stomach felt enormous and she deftly slipped it free from its confines for a slight bit of comfort.  It was packed fuller than it had ever been before and was hard to the touch; she could bounce a coin off it, though she feared even that slight disturbance would make her stomach rupture.

“You did a good job for such a tiny thing,” Ayano teased her friend as she sluggishly slouched in her chair.  “We’ll help you get better while you’re here, don’t you worry.”

Before she passed into a food coma, Shinobu mumbled, “Great to be home again.”

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((We're back stateside now, and just in time for Monday Night War!  Kat Donna has a match against Ananya Patel, but the card is always subject to change, and tonight is no exception.  What's going to happen when Kat finds Ananya in a less than competitive condition?  You'll just have to read on and find out!  Enjoy!))


It was supposed to be just another episode of Monday Night War.  A lengthy, meandering skit would open the show and eat up about twenty minutes, followed by matches and backstage segments of varying quality, and then wrap up with something that would hopefully entice the audience to come back next week.  Among other matches on the night’s card was a title defense—the Women’s Championship, still held by the wildly unpopular Ananya Patel.  The challenger was Katherine Donna, who had been given a push by management over the last few weeks after forsaking her sister and striking out on her own.  It was supposed to be just another episode—what could possibly go wrong?

Kat felt her hands twitching with anticipation as she changed in the locker room.  She could not believe that she was finally getting the chance to really prove herself as a singles competitor after working the tag team division with Natalie for so long.  After she had long since given up asking for such opportunities, the decision had blindsided her, but she was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.  The sporty Donna was going to ride this push for as long as it went on and drum up as much support as possible.  By the time she was done, people would know her not for being a pretty face, but for being a damned good wrestler who also happened to have a pretty face.

“Got to change first though,” Kat whispered to herself as she came back to Earth.  “No one won a championship in their underwear.”

Changing into her gear was getting harder week by week, and it was not hard to see why—Kat Donna was fattening up.  Ever since discovering a love of eating a few months prior, the Wisconsonite had ignored the consequences of said eating and allowed her time in the gym to lapse.  Not nearly as much as her sister, who was blowing up like a balloon, but enough that she could not mitigate the effects of her increasingly common binges.  It did not help that whenever a dish was set in front of her, she felt compelled to eat it and became a single-minded eating machine. 

But then, how could she be expected to control herself when there were so many delicious things out there?  Just earlier that day, she had a sinfully delicious cheeseburger with bacon and onion rings and chili cheese fries as a side and a chocolate milkshake to drink.  Kat licked her lips as she remembered the myriad of flavors and how she licked her fingers clean up grease and cheese when all was said and done.  That should have been enough to satisfy her, but her belly rumbling said otherwise.

Kat blushed and glanced around to see if anyone noticed her greedy belly talking to her.  When no one turned her way, the blonde pinched her paunchy gut and whispered, “We’ll get to craft services in a bit, and then we’ll get something good on the way back to the hotel later, okay?  But keep your eyes on the prize!”

The struggle with getting into her ring gear these days was that everything was so very, very tight on her pudgy body—they were the tightest tights she had ever worn.  Hiking up her black pants was not so bad, at least until she got up to the swell of her rump; even though it was a far cry from Natalie’s doughy donk, it was still a smidge too big for her britches.  Kat had to work the pants up her backside bit by bit until they snapped into place around her thickened waist, which only served to create love handles that could actually be used as handles.

Ever since her belly started oozing over her waistband, Kat had switched out from crop tops and sports bras to more conservative choices, but there was no hiding the glob of dough at her waist.  Let loose, it would wobble about like a gelatin mold in an earthquake; contained, it was a ball of dough that bounced more than a basketball in the NBA Finals.  The blonde opted for the latter and squeezed her way into a sleeveless top that completely covered her stomach, though it clung to her like a second skin and left the indent of her belly button clearly visible.  As if that were not enough, leaving her arms exposed meant that the world could see she was developing a pair of twenty-four inch pythons, though not in a muscular sense.

“At least these are big enough to distract people,” Kat mused to herself as she glanced down at her bosom. 

While she had always been curvy, her chest remained much more petite than her sister’s, which suited her just fine when she was focused on athletics.  Now, the Donna twin had plumped up past her sister and into the upper echelon of the women’s division, sporting a pair of melons that jutted out almost as far as her stomach.  Kat was deluding herself if she thought her bountiful cleavage would distract from the rest of her, considering that she looked soft to the touch all over, but she had to bury any thoughts deep in her mind.  Her concentration was solely on performing to the best of her capability, nothing more.

A nudge to her fluffy midsection shook Kat from her reverie and she glanced over at Terra Carter, who nodded over to the locker room entrance.  All chatter ceased as Ananya Patel stormed into the room with all the presence and aura of a mammoth storm cloud.  The women parted around her like the Red Sea, not wanting to get in the way of one of the most miserable members of the roster lest they take a very real beating.

“Dead girl walking,” Terra whispered to Kat as they watched Ananya set herself up at a locker far from everyone else.  “Word is that Dave and she have been at each other’s throats, and he’s looking to take the title off her as soon as possible.  Play your cards right, and they might just put it on you before the month is up.”

Despite what everyone else thought about Ananya, Kat truly felt sorry for her.  The former weightlifter had been put into an unenviable position: used by management to take the title off of Shinobu Misawa and put her on a pedestal as the first Indian woman to hold the belt, only to have her push yanked out from under her when she refused to play ball.  Ananya had been picking fights ever since the events at Global War, be it with people backstage or in the audience.  That might have been tolerated back in the day, but this was the 21st century—you could not get into a screaming match with the fans unless you wanted to earn the ire of the corporate sponsors.

“I’m going to talk to her,” Kat decided.  “I’ve got a match with her, and I want to make sure we’re good.”

“Bad idea, Kitty Kat,” Terra told her coworker.  “Best to just leave sleeping dogs lie—she don’t look like she’s in a talking mood.”

“All the more reason to make sure we’re good for tonight—if we’re going up in the ring, I want to know what’s coming,” Kat replied before smirking.  “Besides, if she tries to start anything, I’ve got a dozen other women here to back me up.”

With confidence filling her ample chest, Kat strode across the room and stopped at Ananya’s side to take a look at her competition.  There was no way to put it nicely—Ananya Patel looked like a hot mess.  Her eyes were bloodshot and dark, heavy bags sagged underneath them.  The part of her hair that was still long was a greasy, tangled mess and hung limply in her face.  She stared blearily at the locker in front of her, hands twitching as she sat on the bench.  Kat felt all her confidence sink when she saw the despondent champion in such a state.

To make matters worse, the former weightlifter was letting her figure go to ** in a hurry.  Her arms, which were once firm muscle, were bloated and soft to the touch, and her t-shirt only accentuated their puffy status.  She had not developed much in the chest, but her belly was making up by swelling outwards in a thick layer of pudge that scrunched up into three distinct rolls when she sat down.  Ananya’s real trouble began below the belt, as saddlebags were bubbling out from her hips and her thighs touched halfway to her knees.  She was not the powerhouse she was a few weeks prior, and Kat wondered what she could have possibly done to get so big so fast.

“Um…Ananya?” the contender mumbled to her opponent.  “How’s it going?”

There was a pregnant silence between the two women for a moment before Ananya replied, “What do you want, Donna?”

“Well, uh…we’ve got a match tonight, and I wanted to run it by you, if that’s all right,” Kat meekly explained to the brooding woman.

“Match?  We don’t have a match this week,” Ananya grunted as she flipped her mohawk away from her face.  “We’re rasslin’…wrestlemen…wrestlin’ next week.  Where’s that spider chick?  I’ve got a match with her soon.”

Kat’s brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of what Ananya was spouting.  She was sure her match that night was with the champion, and then there was the slurring and dazed look about her.  It took a moment, but it finally clicked in her head and Kat clapped a hand to her mouth.

“Ananya, are you buzzed right now?” the Donna twin whispered as she sat down beside her opponent.  “What were you thinking?  They’ll kick you out for this!”

“So?  Not like anyone wants me here anyway,” grumbled Ananya, rubbing her bleary eyes.  “The fans don’t want me out there, no one wants me in the locker room…I could give the title to some rando in the ring crew, and they’d be overer than me.”

While there was certainly some truth to that statement, Kat was not about to voice that to the despondent champion.  She patted Ananya on the shoulder, only for her gesture to be shrugged off, and told her, “Look, just take it easy back here for a bit.  Get a shower, get some food…relax.  You’re in no condition to compete tonight, so I’m going to go talk to someone and see what we can do.”

“You do that, pussycat,” Ananya hummed softly.  “I’ll just be here, minding my own, trying not to get fired from a job I don’t want.”

Kat’s mind was racing a hundred miles an hour as she got up and glanced around the locker room.  It should not have been her job to make a last second change to the night’s card, but that was the position she found herself in.  She could have allowed Ananya to go out and make a mockery of herself on live TV, but not only would that put her at physical risk—she could not bear that weight on her conscience.  Whether she liked it or not, it was up to her to make sure that Ananya kept her job and she got a match.

“Okay, okay, you can do this,” the chubby girl told herself.  “Just need to find someone to work with that would make sense.  Who to pick, who to pick…”

It would have been simple enough to grab any woman in the locker room and throw a match together, but Kat was versed enough to know that a random match would be better received if there was even a little sense to the booking.  Unfortunately, Ananya had been wrestling local talent for the last few weeks, ever since she punted Dave in his million-dollar melons, and no one wanted to associate themselves with the obvious train wreck.  If she wanted to pull something together, she had to look at the bigger picture and think about who else was waiting in the wings for a shot at the title.

Kat was close to giving up hope when she spied Elena Roma, the Red Widow, applying her face paint at one of the mirrors.  Ananya was due to wrestle the unhinged woman on next week’s show, but maybe they could bump the timeline up a little.  Besides, if there was ever a wrestler eager to wreak havoc, it was Elena Roma, who was always ready to throw someone into barbed wire and thumbtacks.

“Hey there, Elena,” Kat chirped as she approached the Red Widow.  “How’s it going?”

The painted wrestler gave the Donna a sideways glance before returning to her work.  As she drew black circles around her eyes, Elena replied, “What do you want, Katherine?”

“Well, I know that you have a match against Ananya next week and I’m facing her tonight, so—”

“I’m not taking your place,” Elena butted in.  “You take your regularly scheduled beating, and I’ll take mine.”

Kat shook her head and answered, “No, no, nothing like that.  It’s just that, well…I think that Ananya’s sick or something.  Maybe the flu?  I don’t know—I’m not a doctor.”

Elena cocked an inky eyebrow at that and glanced around the corner at Ananya, who was moving slower than molasses in January and teetered left and right.  When she turned back to Kat, she told the blonde, “That’s not sick—she’s just buzzed.”

“If anyone asks, she’s sick,” Kat insisted, the glower in her eyes telling Elena to roll with it.  “Look, she’s in no condition to wrestle tonight, so I’m going to go to management and ask them to change our match for the evening.”

“What did you have in mind?” asked Elena as she painted jagged red lines down her cheeks.

Kat cupped her chin and pondered for a moment before an idea came to her.  “What if you jump Ananya while she’s on the way to the ring, and then I run back to make the save and we have a backstage brawl?”

Elena covered her lips in an obsidian gloss before answering, “Not bad, but you don’t really have a reason to make a save, do you?  I’ll take Ananya out, and then I’ll come down to the ring and chase you backstage for our brawl.”

It was not the best compromise: Kat had hoped that she could come out of this looking like a brave heroine, but she had to take what she could get if she wanted to stay relatively safe and keep Ananya out of trouble.  Reluctantly, she nodded and told Elena, “Okay, I’ll do that.  I’ll run that by management, and let you know what they think.”

“Oh, before you go, I have a suggestion,” the Red Widow told Kat.

Curious, the blonde stepped in closer to her new competitor for the night.  Elena sat her paint brush down in her kit before turning to Kat and explaining, “When we get into our brawl, we’re going to go to catering and tear it up, among other things.  While we are in catering, I am going to try cramming food down your throat, understand?”

The intense stare from Elena told Kat that this was not a suggestion—it was a demand.  She turned pink in the cheek and asked, “Wh-Why would you want to do that?”

“Because I have seen what your sister has been doing these last few weeks, and I want to test if you are the same as her,” Elena answered matter-of-factly.

“What are you talking about?” Kat wondered.  “Natalie hasn’t—”

Her opponent silenced her by whipping her hands out and pinching her love handles like a vise.  “Your sister has turned into a prize pig, and everyone wants a piece of her.  Just last week, I saw her face down in a bowl of pudding while Anzu spanked her ass red; the week before, it was Lora Rose funneling apple cider into her until she looked ready to pop.  And here’s the funny part—your sister loved every minute of it.”

Kat squirmed in Elena’s grip and tried to wrap her mind around everything the woman was saying.  She knew that Natalie had put on more than a few pounds lately, but there was no way she was letting half the locker room feed her bigger, right?  Her voice was squeaky and soft as she squealed, “That’s not true!  Natalie’s got class—she’s better than that!”

“Not from what I could tell,” Elena sneered, “and you don’t have any room to talk.  I’ve seen the way you’re looking at food these days—like you can’t wait to shove it down your gullet.  You’re just as much of a glutton as she is, but you’re a different kind.”

“Let me go, you little psycho!” Kat whimpered, her tone sapping any strength in her words.

Rather than let go, Elena reached up and squeezed both of Kat’s chubby cheeks into a pucker as she got in close enough for the blonde to smell the paint on her face.  “She does it because she loves to be humiliated, and what greater humiliation can there be than being stripped of her gorgeous, supermodel body?  You’re different though—you eat because you love eating and filling your belly until you’re one crumb away from popping.  Face it, hog, I’ve got you pegged.”

Kat would never admit it to Elena, but she was right on the money.  Eating had never been so enjoyable as it had been the last few months, and she was no longer satisfied with the meager portions she used to consume.  In the few times she had tried to curtail her appetite, she had been left feeling empty and wanting, so she ate until warmth filled her stomach and she could barely breathe.  Much as she wanted to deny it, she was just as much of a pig as Elena said.

“Fine…I’ll eat whatever you want,” Kat begrudgingly agreed.

“Good,” Elena replied with a patronizing smirk.  “Now, go get ready—I’m not holding back, hog.”

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((Just a warning before we get to the good stuff tonight--this chapter does have some discussion of depression, substance abuse, and suicide.  This story was going to touch on that at some point or another, because tragedy and wrestling go hand in hand.  Regardless, I think there's plenty of good stuff around the dark, but let me know what you think.  I'd be really interested in hearing what you think of this chapter.))


Getting Elena Roma on board with the new booking turned out to be the hardest part of Kat Donna’s plan for the night.  When she lied to the backstage staff and said that Ananya Patel had the flu, they agreed wholeheartedly to the change.  Whether it was because they did not want to risk spreading anything or they knew that the audience would not miss the despised champion, who could say.  They rewrote the planned match in the hour before the show began, and the rest was history.

It was a bog-standard War by all accounts, which was typical of the shows at the end of the year—fewer people were tuning in during the holidays, so, unless there was a major storyline going on, everything cooled down and dialed back.  The wrestlers did not mind, as they used the month as something of a cooldown after a long year; it was the closest to an off-season they would get.  What happened with the Women’s Championship would prove to be a highlight for the audience, but whether it was good or bad was entirely up to the viewer.

The ball got rolling when Kat jogged down to the ring to a fair pop from the crowd, though not so much because of her specifically—more for the fact that she was not Ananya.  The plump competitor tried not to fidget too much with her clothing, regardless of how it pinched and rode up on her.  She swore that she would get another size up the next day and prayed that her gear would hold on for the night.  It would be embarrassing enough with Elena stuffing her later on; she did not need the added humiliation of her breasts flopping out for everyone to see.

While Kat was making her way to the ring, Ananya staggered down a hallway, clearly in no condition for a fight.  Her eyes with dark with gloom and frustration, but she was ultimately glad that Kat had changed the plans for the night.  It meant less work for her and she could get out sooner rather than later, which was fine with her.  She expected Red Widow to jump out and sneak attack her, just as they had planned backstage—what she had not expected was the conniving woman dropkicking her in the back and sending her crashing into the wall.

The jumbotron at the top of the entrance ramp cut to footage of the attack in progress, showing Red Widow battering a prone Ananya and trying to rip the belt from her waist.  As the painted wrestler struck at her opponent, she screeched, “I want that title!  Give it to me—now, now, now!”

Officials and producers ran in to pull Red Widow off the champion, and Patricia Nicholson told the savage woman, “Widow, you can’t just take the title!  Ananya has a match with Kat Donna tonight—you’ll get your shot next week!”

“Next week?” Red Widow growled through gritted teeth.  “I’m not waiting for next week—I’m getting that title tonight!  Kat Donna has a match?  Then I’ll just make sure she can’t compete, and then you’ll have to give me a shot!”

She then wheeled around and latched onto one of the cameras on the scene.  As the Widow held tight, she leered down the lens and hissed, “Stay right where you are, Kat—I’m coming to skin you.”

Still standing in the ring, Kat felt a pit form in her stomach and her legs turned to jelly as the Red Widow disappeared from view.  She realized now that her original plan of running back to make a heroic rescue would never have worked; between her warpaint and her vicious nature, Red Widow had a way of inspiring fear like few others in the business.  Even if she wanted to run backstage and act like a hero, there was no way her legs were going to cooperate with her.  The only thing she could hope for was that her attacker would not be quite as violent with her as she was with Ananya.

The instant Red Widow ran through the entrance curtains, Kat backed up to the opposite end of the ring and swallowed a lump in her throat.  She watched as her opponent spun into a cartwheel before rolling into one, two, three backflips and landing belly up on her hands and knees like some kind of demented spider.  When the painted fiend skittered towards the ring, Kat let out a shrill screech and slid under the bottom rope in an effort to escape.  Though she tried to keep an eye on the Red Widow, the fiend had disappeared by the time she got around to the other side of the ring.

Just as she turned to the entrance ramp, a hand shot out from under the ring apron and grabbed at her heel.  Kat fell to the floor, her front-loaded curves squishing against the mats, and turned to find Red Widow’s clawed hand around her foot, slowly dragging her into the darkness under the ring.  She squealed in panic and kicked out with her free foot, just managing to get loose before the psychotic woman could take her.  Once she had her freedom, she buzzed no time in hoofing it up the ramp, regardless of how much she bounced and bobbled.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Kat gasped as she sprinted up the ramp.  She was quickly regretting asking for Elena’s help in putting this together; the woman simply did not know when to dial it back.  A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed that, as the Red Widow had crawled from under the ring and was chasing after her on all fours like a hellhound.

That was motivation enough for the wobbly wrestler, and Kat put everything she had into her weak legs just to get some distance from her devilish opponent.  She made a mad dash backstage and ducked around cast and crew alike, even throwing things into Red Widow’s path to distract her, but there was no stopping the woman.  Well, there was one way—Kat just wished it did not have to go that way.  She had made a deal though, and now she had to stick to it, one way or the other.

The chase went through the entire backstage set-up before coming to a head at catering.  Normally, there would be a more elaborate arrangement if there was to be a scripted fight, including a set that could be destroyed as need be, but the women had to make do with what they had.  The Red Widow leaped onto a table and launched herself at Kat, only for the blonde to swat her out of the air with a folding chair.  She was going to lose this fight, but she would be damned if she let herself come out looking like a complete coward.

“Come on, you psycho,” Kat taunted Red Widow as the other woman rose to her feet.  “Come get some!”

Which was just was the vicious wrestler did.  When Kat took another swing at her, the Widow dodged to the side, booted the blonde in her flabby belly, and wrenched the chair away from her.  Kat was rewarded for her efforts with several blows to the back, the Red Widow howling like a maddened wolf with every strike.  Hot tears formed in her eyes as Kat struggled under each blow, and she held onto one of the tables for a meager bit of support.

Once the Widow tired of the chair, she tossed it to the side and grabbed a handful of Kat’s locks instead.  Her victim let out a shriek of pain as she was yanked to her feet but Red Widow paid her little mind as she dragged her to the loaded catering tables.

“Time for you to shine, sow,” Elena whispered to Kat before slamming her down onto one of the tables.  She gave the sporty blonde’s hair a tussle and leaned in close to hiss at her, “Try to enjoy yourself, at least.”

Kat howled in agony as she hit the tabletop, but not because she was trying to work the audience—a sharp, wracking pain raced up and down her side.  It did not matter what she did: roll around, lay in place, or simply breathe; everything hurt.  She had felt a similar pain once as a child when she went sledding and crashed side-first into a lamppost, and the result was two cracked ribs.  If Elena had broken her ribs, she was going to absolutely murder the psycho bitch, assuming she survived this impromptu brawl.

“Widow, wait—”

Her attempt to stop this crazy train was halted when her painted tormentor crammed a sandwich in her mouth.  She gagged around the mouthful of mediocre catering and struggled to choke it down before the Red Widow stuffed more in.  After all the delicious things she had sampled and gorged on over the last few months, the basic ham sandwich was lacking just about everything Kat looked for in food.  When Elena had pitched this idea to her, the devious part of her brain had piqued at the notion of being stuffed, but if this was what the Donna twin had to look forward to, this was going to suck.

The Red Widow gibbered in tongues as she stuffed Kat with whatever she could get her hands on at the table, and none of it was satisfying to the bemused blonde.  She was obliged to eat after her tormentor agreed to work with her, but between the bland offerings and her ribs aching with the slightest movement, it was tough going.  Were it not for the eventual assistance from referees and security, Kat would have lashed out at Red Widow with everything she had.

There was chaos and unintelligible shouting as Red Widow was pried away from Kat and the crew checked over the beleaguered blonde until the cameras cut off.  Once the audience was no longer watching, security gently let go of Elena and Kat swallowed the last remnants of a handful of chips while a couple referees helped her to her feet.  She clutched at her side and let out a hiss of pain when one of her helpers gingerly touched her middle.

“I’ll buzz Nancy,” the one told the other as he pulled a radio from his belt.  “Think there might be a couple cracked ribs.”

As miserable as Kat was, Elena was all smiles when she sauntered over to the benched girl and asked, “Was it as good for you as it was for me?”

Kat gritted her teeth and waggled for her opponent to come closer.  Obliging, Elena leaned in and was rewarded with a headbutt to the face.  Blood flowed from her nose while she staggered back in shock and pain from the blow, and she looked to the blonde in disbelief.

“You just broge my dose, you bish!” the savage woman growled, her blood mixing with her warpaint to create a ghastly image.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?!” Kat asked as she stormed over to Elena and gave a sharp kick to her shins.  “You think that was fun for me?!  You broke my ribs and shoved food down my throat like I was a fucking garbage disposal!”

“Begause I foughd you’d lige id!” Elena retorted.

“Yeah, well, don’t do me any more favors!” Kat spat at her opponent before clutching at her side.  “You ever pull anything like that again, I’ll break more than your nose.”

Before their fight could escalate, they were separated by officials and led to different parts of the backstage area to be tended to.  Both would be taken to proper hospitals for further treatment, but with an incident-prone business like professional wrestling, the backstage medics were capable of prepping them for the trip.  Nancy du Pont and a couple assistants tended to Kat and were strapping a bag of ice to the blonde’s side when Ananya appeared in the doorway.

“Hey, blondie,” the disgruntled champion greeted her would-be opponent.  Her eyes did not look as bleary as they were earlier, nor was she staggering so much.  “How you feeling?”

“Been better, not going to lie,” Kat winced as Nancy ran another ribbon of tape around her.

“Just a little more, Katherine,” the doctor assured her pudgy patient.  “You’re doing great.”

The blonde nodded and glanced over to Ananya.  “How about you?  You look like you’re doing all right.”

“I got myself something to eat, some water, and some black coffee,” Ananya replied with a shrug.  “Still not a hundred percent, but I’m hanging in there.”

Kat let out a gentle sigh of relief and released a breath she had been holding all night long.  “Well, I’m glad.  I just hope that you beat the shit out of Elena next time you get in the ring with her.  If not for me, than do it for that bitch of a dropkick she gave you.”

“You know I will,” the champion chuckled, a smirk forming on her lips.  She fidgeted in place as she tried to find the right words for her wounded peer—no easy feat, given her condition was only just improving.  After a pregnant pause, she told Kat, “Thanks for putting this together, Kat…really.”

The Donna twin glanced down before asking Nancy, “Nance, can you give us a minute?”

The doctor looked between the two wrestlers before answering, “Okay, but we need to get you out to a hospital sooner rather than later.”

Once Nancy and her attendants left the room, Kat beckoned for Ananya to sit beside her in one of the nearby folding chairs.  As the champion did just that, Kat explained, “I know how hard this business can be, Ananya: my sister and I have had it easy, but that doesn’t mean we haven’t seen wrestlers just implode on themselves.  Have you ever heard of a wrestler named Kaylee Thorne?”

Ananya shook her head and Kat continued, “Well, she and I were in developmental at the same time in this place called ‘Mid-West Championship Wrestling’, and Kaylee was the real deal.  She knew a dozen different submissions and could make you tap out in seconds, but she was also fun on the mic.  We had some good matches together—some of the best of my career, but she could make just about anybody look good.  It wasn’t long after she got started that they made her champion, because it just made sense, you know?

“Thing is, Kaylee wasn’t ready for that level of responsibility and she knew it.  The pressure of being champion got to her in a bad way, and she took to doing anything she could to forget about it.  She would drink a little before shows just to get some courage, and then drink herself stupid afterwards to shake the nerves out.  Pretty soon, she was drinking on the way to shows and even right before her matches, all because she thought that she wasn’t good enough for the role.  And once her work rate started slipping and she fumbled on the mic, they finally took the title off her.”

Ananya asked, “Did she clean up after that?”

Kat shook her head and gripped her chair until her knuckles turned white.  “No…at that point, the damage was already done—something was broken inside Kaylee and she couldn’t get it back.  She only got worse and worse until management decided to fire her.  We were supposed to have one more match before she left, but Kaylee didn’t show up that night and didn’t even call until five minutes before my new match was supposed to go on.  She told me that she always enjoyed our matches and that she wished she could have been there for this one, but she had to do something back home.  I tell one of the producers that she didn’t sound right, and they say they would send someone to check on her.

“I finish my match and head backstage, and everyone’s gotten real quiet.  I ask what’s going on, and they tell me that an officer found Kaylee with her head in the oven and a bottle of whiskey on the table.”

Kat struggled through the last few words as she got choked up, but when Ananya put a hand on hers, she swallowed her sorrow and finished, “I still get scared when I get a phone call I’m not expecting.  When Maxine Kuhn was kicked down to Youngblood and called me out of the blue, I just about jumped on the first plane out in case anything went wrong.  I never want to see anyone struggling like that ever again if I can do something about it.”

Ananya gave Kat’s hand a squeeze and asked in a soft voice, “What…what would you say to someone who’s having those problems?”

“That they’re not alone,” the Donna answered as she cast a knowing glance to the champion.  “That there are people who love her and respect her, and that they’ll always have at least one person in their corner.  They don’t need to give up just because they’ve gotten a shitty deal.”

Ananya nodded and put her other hand atop Kat’s.  “I’ll be sure to tell them that,” she replied with a slight smile.  “They might need a little reminding from time to time though.”

“I think they know how to find me,” Kat said with a wink and a sly grin.  “Now, I’ve got a couple ribs that need looking at—mind helping me out to the parking lot?”

“For you?  Anything,” Ananya hummed as she gently wrapped an arm around Kat while the blonde rose to her feet.  “And don’t you worry about Elena—next time she gets in the ring with me, a broken nose will be the least of her worries.”

“I can’t wait to see that,” Kat giggled, despite how much it hurt to laugh at that moment.


As the two wounded wrestlers were driven to the nearest medical facility, Dave Ericson was sitting in his office in Connecticut and stewing over everything that had transpired that night.  Bad enough that Ananya Patel was in no condition to fight—because of the sudden change in booking, two of his women’s wrestlers were sidelined for the next several weeks.  While he had hopes for Ananya at first, they were crushed when he realized that she was not ready for that position and she would not play ball.  He needed someone who had no problem being cutthroat, handling herself like a professional, or towing the company line—and he had just the woman in mind.

“Sadie?  It’s Dave,” the old man said over the phone.  “I’ve got a proposition for you.”

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I think this chapter was really good, mostly becuase of the darker theme this time, not everything is a happy time and I feel you nailed it with the weight of responsibility and what it can do.

love the story ❤️ And can’t wait to see the Girls get Bigger 😍

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10 hours ago, ulvrik said:

I think this chapter was really good, mostly becuase of the darker theme this time, not everything is a happy time and I feel you nailed it with the weight of responsibility and what it can do.

love the story ❤️ And can’t wait to see the Girls get Bigger 😍

Thanks. I was worried that the darker material wouldn't work as well, but I'm glad you liked it.

And don't worry--bigger is coming!

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((And we're back with a brand new chapter!  After last week's bummer, I think we're due for something a little more lighthearted, and what could be better for that than a good ol' fashioned cookie exchange?  Sit back, grab yourself some cocoa, and hunker down for a warm hug of a chapter.  Enjoy!))


Theresa Hartley was a good many things: mother, former champion, incredibly fat, and determined to rid herself of that third descriptor.  What she was not was a baker, which was why her current task was the most difficult thing she had to do since her sixty-minute iron woman match—making macarons for her wrestling school’s cookie exchange.  She did not normally make something by hand for these sorts of functions, opting instead to purchase something pre-made from the store, but unlike the snobs in the PTA, she actually wanted to impress the girls in Rose’s class.  They had been so good to her since she first joined; it only seemed right to treat them to something tasty in return.

To that end, she had researched a maple bacon macaron recipe and practiced it over the last few days to make sure she had gotten it right.  By the day of the party, she had gone through a dozen batches that improved with each new attempt but could never meet her standards.  Theresa looked down at her tray of rosy cookies with consternation, unsure if these were any good but lacking any time to make another batch.  She still had to get cleaned up and changed; these had to be good enough.

“Tessie, you’ve outdone yourself,” her doting husband remarked after sneaking one of the cookies from under her nose.  “This might be your finest work yet!”

Noah was not just saying that to be nice: he would never sugarcoat anything for his wife; she could sniff out a lie from a mile away.  Besides that, he had been her taste tester over the last week since Theresa was trying to cut back on sweets, which meant he had experienced a broad spectrum of cookie quality.  These were the best ones she had made by far, and while they might not win her a contest, they were sure to impress her students.

“Oh, thank God,” Theresa sighed in relief, letting out a deep breath she had been holding in her belly.  She could not afford another failure this close to the party, and she refused to show up with something bought from the store—her girls deserved better.  “And with enough time to spare to get ready, because I sure can’t show up like this.”

The former Queen Heart tended to be self-deprecating, but she was accurate in this case; not only was she clad in casual clothes she did not mind dirtying up, but she was sweating up a storm and red in the face from bustling around the kitchen.  Her purple and black plaid top stuck to her like a second skin, and the top two buttons had been left open so she might get some ventilation for her roasting bosom.  The painfully tight apron did a good job of keeping her clean of everything otherwise, but it also could not mask the swell of her belly as it bounced and bobbled with her every step.  On top of everything, the back of her black slacks had a streak of flour from where she had bumped into her work station, miscalculating how much her backside stuck out behind her.

“I can box these up for you if you want to hop in the shower,” Noah offered as he slinked into the kitchen.  He undid Theresa’s apron strings, which pinched into her flabby back like the netting on a pork roast, and peeled the dirty covering from her bulbous body.  “And if you need help with anything else, just give me a holler.”

“Thanks, hon, but I’m actually getting better on my own,” Theresa replied, a smile sprouting on her splotchy cheeks.

It was not so long ago that the retired wrestler had been pushing four hundred pounds, almost all of it weak, useless flab.  Theresa needed a lot of help at that size: getting cleaned, getting dressed, and sometimes just getting out of a seat.  Her bouts with depression did not help, but her bulk meant that she was simply too unwieldy to do the little things in life that most people took for granted.  She was trapped by her blubber, locked into a suit of fat that she could never remove; the best she could do was chip away at it little by little.

After joining her old mentor’s training school and reconnecting with the life she left behind, Theresa had been inspired to lose weight like never before.  She knew that it would be a long time before she got back to top condition, if she ever got back there at all, but the aid of her husband, her best friend, and all the girls in the school helped her stay strong.  It was their continued support that had seen her drop from a peak of 385 pounds to a practically twiggy 320.

Theresa still looked like a ball of dough when she shucked off her clothes, but she felt much stronger and firmer than she had in a long time.  Now that she was exercising regularly again, she was cultivating muscle for the first time in years, which helped her not only handle her blubbery body much easier—it also helped her gelatinous curves firm up and combat the effects of gravity.  Her pumpkin-sized breasts looked fuller even though they were shrinking little by little, and her roly-poly stomach no longer sagged like a sack of pudding.  The effect was not lost below the belt, as she could tell that her ham hock thighs and rump were tighter, even if the effect was lost on the casual observer.  If only her spider veins and cellulite would get the memo and get lost, then she would be happy.

“Not going to think about any of that today,” Theresa told herself as she looked over her globular physique in the mirror.  “You’re going to have fun at the party, and you’re not going to think about how you weigh more than three of those girls put together.  And you’re absolutely not going to eat any cookies—not unless you want an extra half-hour on the elliptical when you get home.”

Satisfied with her pep talk, the queen-sized Queen Heart stepped into the shower and let the hot water wash away the weariness of baking all morning.  She had already been to several functions with her students—why should this one be any different?


“Moms in the house!” Tara announced as Theresa and Carolyn waddled into the party room at the Lotus Club.

The girls of Rose Manson’s wrestling school lit up like a Christmas tree and cheered as the portly pair made their way inside.  Carolyn had once joked that she wished she got that sort of reaction whenever she got home, but Theresa had to agree—the students had embraced them like sorority sisters to a housemother.  It helped that they balanced out the harshness of their teacher; Rose was not heartless, but she was made of sterner stuff than they were used to.  The fact that Carolyn always brought snacks to class did not hurt either, much as Rose tried to curtail the habit.

“I’m trying to whip up cream of the crop here, not a bunch of butterballs,” the elderly woman would snip at the soccer mom who had inadvertently become a part of her class.

“Oh, but the darlings deserve a treat after working so hard,” Carolyn would fawn in return, oblivious to the truth in Rose’s statement.

Though none of the girls would admit it to themselves, they had all bulked up a fair bit since their wrestle moms joined the class, and not all of it from muscle.  Ring gear did not fit right, appetites were not as easily appeased, and they had to work harder every day to keep up with their thickening bodies.  While neither Carolyn nor Theresa were doing anything to actively fatten up the students, having the two heavyweight matrons around helped them feel better about their own figures.  Even if they put on a few pounds, they would never get as big as either of the doughy duo, and no student held to that belief more than the troublesome Nina Neverland.

“Uh-oh, better hide your plates—the buffet-wreckers just came in,” the snobby girl taunted, even as she worked on a fully-loaded plate of appetizers.

Nina was many things—catty, snarky, rude—but above all else, a hypocrite.  For all her snippy comments about Theresa and Carolyn’s weight and appetite, she had put on the most weight out of everyone in the class and never held back when it came to her food.  She refused to admit that she had put on so much as a pound nor would she cut back on her eating, which was why she was in sorely undersized clothes. 

Her thick legs were covered in black leggings that had seen better days and were so threadbare in certain places that they were almost see-through.  Somehow, she had squeezed herself into a leather skirt which accentuated the roundness of her stomach and hips and creaked ominously with her slightest movements.  While half of her tummy was tucked into her skirt, the other half pooled over the waistband like bread rising in an oven.  The metal band name on her shirt was already illegible, and stretching it across her plump chest did not help.  Despite how obviously tight everything was on her, the vain Nina never considered that it was because she had crested 160 pounds just the other day.

“Really, kid?  You can’t even chill for the holidays?” Theresa asked Nina.

“Are you kidding?  The holidays are when I’m at my peak,” Nina retorted before biting into a dumpling.  “There are so many lardos that just stop watching their waistline this time of year—just look at everyone in the class!  They’ve got more rolls than a bakery!”

Theresa cast a cursory glance around the room at the revelers and could not deny that they were all looking softer, even though they had just had class the day before.  It did not matter whether they were tiny sprites like Vidya Anand or a brick house like Conner Trent; whether their pants were tighter or their faces fuller, it was undeniable that all the girls were plumping up.  And judging by the way size of the plates they took from the buffet, they were not going to slim down anytime soon.

“Well, whether it’s true or not, you don’t need to be a horse’s ass,” Theresa reminded her most rebellious student.  “And just remember that what goes around comes around.”

“Ch’yeah, whatever,” Nina snorted derisively before popping another dumpling in her mouth.  “You’d never catch me as fat as some of these butterballs.”

As the two mothers walked away from the snotty brat, Carolyn whispered to her friend, “I hope that when karma hits her, it hits like a steel chair.”

Theresa cast a glance over her shoulder and, spying Nina’s rump as she made her way back to the buffet for seconds, replied, “Oh, it’s already hit, but it’s got a sleeper hold on her—the only question is if she taps out.”

At the back of the room sat the head of the wrestling school, who looked decidedly Grinchy compared to the rest of the merrymaking around her.  Rose slouched in her chair with her arms crossed over her chest, a glass of beer in hand, and a stern glare in her eyes, though they were covered by bulky black glasses.  She sipped from her beer now and then, grimaced, and then went back for another drink, on and on.

“Merry Christmas, Rose,” Carolyn greeted the nonagenarian.  The elderly woman had not taken to her nearly as much as the students had due to her aforementioned snack-bringing.  Though the bubbly soccer mom tried her best to impress, nothing ever seemed to take.

“And a bah humbug to you, creampuff,” Rose retorted with a sneer.  “Have you made the rounds yet?  I don’t think Tara’s pants have popped yet; you should get on that.”

Carolyn gritted her teeth and glanced to Theresa for support, who nodded to Carolyn’s purse.  Time for Plan B—bribery.  The hefty soccer mom reached into her purse and pretended to fish around, even though what she wanted was right in her grasp.  “Well, I know it’s a little early, but I wanted to get you a little something to say thanks for letting me be a part of your class.”

“What, deep-friend Oreos?  You can’t buy me off with sweets, kid—that stuff is poison to me,” Rose replied with a cocky smirk.

“Nope,” Carolyn rebutted as she slammed a bottle down on the table.  “Diesel—100% grain alcohol.  Your favorite.”

Rose immediately snatched the bottle up and gave it a thorough inspection before cracking it open to take a whiff.  Once the sharp aroma hit her nostrils, she screwed the cap back on and whooped, “Damn, creampuff, you got the good stuff!  You could use that for paint thinner!  Sit down and make yourself comfortable.”

Carolyn lit up in a glowing smile and turned to get a thumbs up from Theresa.  When she sat down though, Rose poured some of her new liquor into a glass and passed it over to the bloated blonde.  “You’re going to love this, kid—it’ll tighten up your saggy tuchus better than a week with a Thighmaster and scrunch up that jelly belly into something resembling abs.”

“Oh, um, I don’t really drink,” Carolyn tried to explain, but Rose would have none of it.

The elderly woman tugged her glasses down and glowered at her guest.  “You turning down my gift to you, blondie?”

Carolyn fidgeted under the bitter glare and meekly replied, “N-No, ma’am.”

“Then you best get to drinking, or I might be offended,” Rose sneered before tipping the bottle to her lips.  “Now, drink!”

Theresa gave Carolyn a pat on the shoulder to wish her luck and left before she was dragged into having a glass.  The last time she had some of Rose’s grain alcohol, she had woken up on top of a guy and beneath a girl in a motel bathtub after a show.  It was so potent that it could double as fuel in a car, yet Rose drank it like water.  Given what she had heard of her mentor’s time on the road, she was amazed that Rose was not only still alive, but that she had somehow outlived most of her contemporaries.

“Mrs. T!  Over here!” a giddy, if drowsy, voice called out to Theresa.

The redhead glanced over to a nearby table and spied her favorite student, Jamie ‘JJ’ Jacobs, tucking into her lunch.  Out of all the girls in the school, JJ had taken to her the most; she was the most eager to learn and followed Theresa’s every word.  Funny, considering that she always looked like she was half-asleep and stoned like a heretic.  The girl was not immune to the gaining bug that had caught on in the school; in fact, she was a close second behind Nina in terms of the total pounds she had put on since October.  What separated her from her classmates was that she was not only aware of the weight gain—she embraced it.

When JJ smiled at Theresa, slight dimples formed in her round, soft cheeks, and she had a hint of a double chin when she tilted her head down.  A healthy pair of grapefruits had grown in at her chest and could not be disguised behind her ugly sweater, unlike her squishy, pinchable stomach that had just begun to pooch out onto her lap when she sat down.  Though her lower body paled in comparison to the increasingly portly Nina, JJ’s thighs had expanded to the point that they touched together even while standing and her jeans were stretched tight as a drum over her backside.  She was far softer than the lanky girl Theresa had met a few months prior, and her redheaded instructor had a sneaking suspicion that she had some “medicinal” help in that.

“Hey there, kid,” Theresa greeted her favorite student with a warm embrace.  “How you doing?”

“Hungry,” JJ giggled in reply.  “Don’t tell Rose, but Nina and me might have had a little something to enjoy before we got here.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” the former Queen Heart told JJ before miming locking her lips.  She glanced down at the girl’s sweater—a bright red with a turkey near her shoulder and the words ‘GOBBLE TILL YOU WOBBLE’ printed down her torso. “Should I take it that’s your goal for today?”

JJ nodded and popped a piece of crab Rangoon in her mouth. “You know it, dude.  I freakin’ love Chinese food so much; I could eat it for, like, ever and never get sick of it.”

“Well, between you and Nina, I hope you save some for the rest of us,” Theresa chuckled.  She gave the hazy brunette a light pat on the stomach and teased, “And pace yourself—we’ve got this room for the next couple hours.”

JJ turned a fine pink at the playful touch and grinned bashfully as she returned her attention to her food.  Despite Theresa’s words, or perhaps because of them, she began to eat even faster, as if to quell the feelings that bubbled up every time her coach was around.  Theresa tittered at the shy reply and gave JJ another pat on the shoulder before making her way to the buffet so she could finally get her own plate together.

While everyone was settling in, chatting, and eating their fill, Nina kept one eye on the table full of cookies.  Everyone had brought in enough for everyone to have at least two or three, whether they were homemade or store-bought, as was the case with the rebellious girl herself.  She slowly made her way over to the table, making sure that no one was watching her as she went; they would not get into the cookie exchange until after the white elephant exchange had finished, and for once, she did not want to attract attention.

“No one’s going to notice a couple missing,” Nina scoffed quietly as she plucked a couple from each box as a start…

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Holy shit, this is really interesting, the snappiness of the characters at times made me feel like it was going to come to blows, but it seems that cooler heads prevailed and it's so cool that you've not only got great descriptions of the characters, but you've kept their varied personalities and made everyone seem unique and, another cool thing is that you've got characters of various ages, not just young women. I'm really impressed with this and I can't wait to see how it goes from here. :) Nina saying that she'd "never be seen as fat as those butterballs" while eating a dumpling was just a brilliant amount of hypocrisy from her. xD

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2 hours ago, ratetankmark said:

Holy shit, this is really interesting, the snappiness of the characters at times made me feel like it was going to come to blows, but it seems that cooler heads prevailed and it's so cool that you've not only got great descriptions of the characters, but you've kept their varied personalities and made everyone seem unique and, another cool thing is that you've got characters of various ages, not just young women. I'm really impressed with this and I can't wait to see how it goes from here. :) Nina saying that she'd "never be seen as fat as those butterballs" while eating a dumpling was just a brilliant amount of hypocrisy from her. xD

Thanks, man! With wrestlers, it doesn't take much for trouble to start, but thankfully, Theresa knows how to defuse a situation.

And I'm glad you liked the mix of ages represented. It just made sense to include everyone from the young rookies to elderly ring veterans. The best part is that it's been fun to write each and every one. 

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