The Aftermath

[Batman76]

A short, sweet, non complicated one: two con women steal a hundred million from a corrupt business man, then go to an island to wear some skimpy clothes and get obese.

 

 

Carrie didn't cut through the crowded parking garage of Special Carrier American Metropolitan like a shark through minnows or a knife through soft butter or like any other metaphor at all. For one the lot was deserted and for another Carrie was almost designed to be unnoticed. The business like stride she had, neither too fast nor too slow, wasn't punctuated with the click-clack of stilletto heels but the soft pat of sensible shoes. Her blouse wasn't a sexy ensemble wrapped tightly about flagrantly displayed bronze cantalupes but a proper business shirt and jacket for a young professional. Her skirt wasn't a vacuumed on scrap of fabric that showed off gym honed legs, but a practical, slightly above the knee cut. Her hair didn't fall in curls to her waist, but was pulled up in a stern brown bun that, combined with sensible black glasses, made the reflection that looked back at her in the elevator seem a desperate attempt to look older than the 22 it said on her company ID card.

'Hey, Carrie! Hold the elevator!' she heard a voice yell across the lobby.

She smiled softly and then put on an expression of anxiety, turning to see Rich hurry across the parking garage, belly bouncing softly. Her boss in accounting had played college ball but ten years in the fat trap office had given him tits bigger than Carrie's and a full term bulge that of late was covering up his shrinking package. It was cute, if not quite what she wanted.

'Woow, didn't want to have to take the stairs,' the still cute man told her, panting a bit, 'although maybe I should...'

'Heh, know what you mean,' Carrie smiled, 'my skirts are getting a bit tight. Office junk is fattening me up pretty well.'

She put her hand to her stomach, which made her co worker turn redder. That Carrie didn't dress provocatively didn't mean she was ugly by anymeans. The freckles across her nose were cute, her lips had a beautiful pout and although she wore no make up her near black eyes sparkled. Her body wasn't anything to frown at either: her legs were very slim, her belly paper flat despite her claim and the minimal weight her trim body held concentrated in a set of tight round buns.

'I wish I only had your problems,' he chuckled back, 'but are you going to the christmas banquet tonight?'

'Nah, I'm just here to deliver a report,' Carrie responded with a shrug, 'I found some...discrepancies in the accounts.'

'Oh...what kind of discrepancies?' Rich asked, paling.

'Hard to say, but...big ones,' she whispered, looking over at him and whispering, 'I think...that someone big up stairs is stealing money. A lot of it.'

'Oh my god...,' Rich muttered as the elevator dinged at his floor, 'what are you going to do about it?'

'Give my report to the head of Security. O'brien may be a skirt chasing bastard but he's straight as a ruler,' Carrie explained, smoothing her skirt with nerves as the elevator doors went up the sky scraper, 'hopefully he believes me, everything on how I found it is on my flash drive.'

'Maybe, eh...I should give it over to O'Brien,' Rich said, sweating slightly.

'You think? But I mean, I found this....,' the newbie accountant said, slightly flustered.

'And if you're wrong, well...I'd hate to say it but accusations like that,' Rich let her imagine, 'have consequences. If its right I'll say you found it, if its wrong I'll take the blame.'

'God maybe you're right,' she admitted, pulling a flash drive out of her jacket breast pocket and putting it into his sweaty palm.

Rich almost visibly sighed, running a thick hand over his brow, 'I'll just take this over to him. You should...well, maybe just take the rest of the day off.'

'Okay, when will I know what he found?' she asked, 'will you call me?'

'Oh, no...if its high up they might tap your phone,' he said, leaning towards her, 'this could be dangerous. Its good that you gave this to me, I'll make sure you're safe. Go wait at home, I'll come meet you there after the meeting. Don't unlock the door for anyone but me or O'brien.'

'Okay, thanks so much for this Rich,' she smiled in relief, 'I don't know how I can make it up to you...'

'Well, I'll think of something i"m sure,' Rich smiled, getting off on the executive floor.

As he got off, Carrie hit the button to the garage, rode the elevator all the way stone faced and drove off in her little economy car. Once her car was in the garage she didn't go into the little house she could barely afford, just checked to make sure the door was unlocked and walked up to the over expensive, dick replacement sports car that jetted up with a kittens purr and hopped in the opening passenger door.

'He buy it?' Amber asked from the driver's seat through a full pound hamburger, handing her several hundred calories worth of corn syrup that a massive company called 'Mountain Dew'.

'Of course he buy it, your end go well?' she asked her companion, taking the scrunchy out of her hair and shaking her head to let it flow freely.

'*snort* what do you think?' Amber guffawed as she gunned it towards the airport, catching the scrunchy and putting her own hair into a bun.

....

'Oh my god, this emerald is so gorgeous!' Amber laughed from his lap, adjusting the six figure ruby necklace across her inflated boobs, natural E cups tan as bronze.

'A ruby Amber, its a Ruby,' Markus O'Brien stopped himself from sighing, focusing on everything on the outside of his secretary, 'ruby's are red.'

'Oh...I thought ruby's were blue?' she asked, blue eyes narrowing briefly as to not give herself wrinkles.

'Those are sapphires,' he said, boner falling even with the vision of aphrodite in his lap.

'But aren't sapphires white?' she asked numbly.

Amber was a name that brought to mind blonde cheer leaders with big boobs, white teeth, ample hips and the mental capacity of talc powder. A woman who'd be an ace at matching make up to skin tones and match her calories eaten vs expended on the fly, but think a space shuttle was a type of extra large bus. The type who'd wind up knocked up and dropped out by senior year half the time and go to college for a communications degree and get a beer belly 49 other times out of a hundred. Either way, the loss of looks would cause an eventual maturation of brain most of the day.

This Amber fit those initial descriptions to a T but it turned out was the rare, 1 out of a 100 Ambers who still had that gorgeous body and that chalk brain.

'No...why don't you go check the phones...,' Markus sighed as she got up, watching her 40 inch back side sway back and forth gloriously as she left.

His secretary was starting to get on his nerves. Yes she was hot as hell, an almost impossible combination of gold blonde hair, perfect boobs, badonkadonk butt and teeny waist shown in a black mini skirt and a stupidly low cut top. And he knew that the hundred grand he'd blown from company accounts on that necklace would earn him weeks of BJs over the next month until she forgot about it.

But God she was dumb. She'd fucked up his appointment schedule twenty times (and made it up each one) in the past month, mis labeled and misfiled things constantly, he'd fire her stupid ass without regret if she ever gained a pound or refused a suck. Not that he'd need to, it wouldn't be long before he'd pulled more money than he'd ever need from this stupid company and made it off to Rio...

The door to his office burst open, not with the happy figure of Amber but the wheezing tub of his criminal partner Rich.

'Oh fuck, oh fuck,' the fat slob muttered, looking mid-coronary, 'we almost got caught!'

'Uh, Ms. Rich to see you, Mr. Obrien?' Amber said afterwards, poking her head in.

'We what...shut the fuck up Rich,' O'brien hissed, 'Amber go...alphabetize the security files!'

'K,' she smiled, sashaying off.

'Rich, I told you never to come in here,' Markus hissed at the fat man.

'One of my little flunkies found us,' Rich explained, handing over a flash drive, 'look at this, she said it had evidence of everything we've stolen...'

'Fuck,' he said, grabbing the flash drive and plugging it in.

After a moment, clicking away the anti-virus with a single finger, he was looking at a flood of PDFs files, each showing money being moved around the company and straight to his and Rich's slush fund. Over a hundred million dollars almost ready to steal, rounded off from a cent here and there from the immense multi-national telecom banking company. He grunted angrily, massive hands breaking his key board and stood up.

'Where is she?' he asked Rich, grabbing the fat man by the collar.

'I sent her home for the day,' Rich gasped, 'told her to only open the door to you...'

'Fuck, go clean this up on your end,' the big security expert sighed, standing up, 'I'll handle it with your employee.'

'Markus she's just data analyst, barely more than an intern,' Rich whined, 'she can be scared...'

'Not forever,' Markus said, dumping him, 'you'd said this was full proof, now go clean up your end before I clean you up!'

He stomped out past Amber, who was trying to turn on an unplugged computer, hitting power again and again. The blonde smiled, the same bubble gum idiocy she always had and then waited until the accountant had waddled out to enter O'brien's office. She slid a pair of rubber gloves from her bra and slid them on,  skillfully logged into the company's server with O'brien's access and began entering edited footage, removing any evidence that she'd walked into the office on her high heels and taken the flash drive, which held all the pass words needed to access all of the money O'brien had stolen. Smiling with genuine, evil malice, the blonde transfered all of that money from O'brien's anonymous account to her anonymous account, then extracted the entire conversation Markus and Rich had just had from the audio bug in the flash drive and sent it to law enforcement, the media and the board. After shutting down all the cameras between here and the exeutive garage and with the flash drive securely stowed within her cavernous bra, she sashayed out to the executive garage, throwing her jewels into the trash can.

She paused only to use cash to empty a vending machine of snickers bars and mountain dew, then stopped at a Carls Jr where more cash was used to buy bulging bags of cholesterol and future thigh fat before picking up Carrie and rocketing towards the air port.

'Looks like your putting phase two into production already,' Carrie told her, eying how the blonde's flat stomach was already bulging with food.

'Hey, that part was your perverted little idea,' Amber smiled, handing over a bag filled with fries, 'now eat up.'

By the time they got to the ticket counter and used their real IDs, both had food b**s so big they couldn't button their skirts and both O'Brien and Rich were being read their Miranda rights, O'Brien in front of Carrie's house which had been artfully staged to look like someone had just been murdered within.

'You think we still need to get fat?' Carrie asked as she buckled the first class seat belt over her swollen gut.

'After pretending to be an air head with a size two waist for that dipshit?' Amber asked, 'I insist.'

 

[>_< 0_0]

Thought about watching Hustlers last week, but decided not to. This is waaayy better written

[Batman76]

18 hours ago, >_< 0_0 said:

Thought about watching Hustlers last week, but decided not to. This is waaayy better written

Haha, thanks. This is a short and sweet one, few characters, no magic, just eating. This one has just stuffing, the next one will be the early gains.

Far away from the now police infested halls of their former employer, the girls were waking up in a tropical paradise that lacked an extradition treaty...

Day 1:

Carrie wiped a towel across her sweaty brow as the treadmill came to a halt. Her whole body was pleasantly tired at the end of the one mile run, finished at a blistering nine and three quarters miles per hour and done at the end of a set of yoga and weights that made her muscles burn with promised exhaustion. She was unused to the later feeling, her routine had largely been a fat burning, four mile run rather than building muscle. Carrie's image had been trim and professional, skinny and timid, not strong and attention catching.

But given that her skin tight workout shorts were tighter than normal across the waist, she'd need the muscle more than the long distance running soon. She'd felt the full heaviness of her belly all night, hauling around a bowling ball gut stuffed taut with lakes of candies and islands of burgers chowed down on in the flight as the two thieves let their diets detonate in celebration had been thrilling at first and then uncomfortable as Amber kept egging her on to further and further feats of gluttony.

Even now, eighteen hours after take off her belly was swollen and puffy, peaking past her breasts, not that that said much given her A cup boobs. Now that her bank account was full o the brim she was considering implants, the type of DD backbreakers she'd always wanted and lusted after but knew that spending their loot like that would be foolish. She had a strict plan to live out the rest of her life in perfect luxury and it didn't include needless cosmetic surgery, but rather careful spending and investment.

Besides, she was planning on doubling in size and when there were an extra hundred and twenty pounds of fat jiggling onto her currently 5'4 frame, maybe a few would finally bulk out her chest. She stepped into the elevator and rode it back up the top floor suite he and Amber were sharing while their little safe house was being prepared for them.

The former data analyst walked in to find the falsely ditzy secretary strutting out of the shower wearing a bikini made out of lightning blue dental floss. It hugged round hips tight and gave her plentiful cleavage top, bottom and side to side, every click of her high heeled beach sandals. The only flaw to her center fold body was the small bulge of her slightly swollen abdomen, making her look like a home coming queen three months after a broken condom instead of freshly crowned.

'Still working out? Geesh,' the buxom blonde laughed, 'what's the point in getting so fat we're unrecognizable if you're going to exercise?'

'Still got my health to worry about and I've always been a twig too, decided to build some muscle to carry all the blubber I'm gonna get,' Carrie told her, 'what about you? I thought you said you were going to go back to being a fat nerd, yet here you look like a cover girl?'

Amber shrugged and smiled, 'Figured its best to flaunt it while I got it. Best to get my value out of all that money my mom spent on ten years worth of fat camps and trainers and dieticians before I roll back into piggy-land. Figure I've got a month of being able to land some 10/10 hard bodies before I soften up too much, so I'll be able to enjoy the best of both worlds.'

The two of them were partners. And only occasionally 'partners', neither was going to begrudge the other some dalliances. They'd only just gotten to fuck again last night, sweaty, uncomfortable and mostly drunk escapade of fumbling and sucking hampered by immense food b**s and jet lag. Especially as Carrie knew the hard muscled hunks Amber preferred would soon be staying away as her pin up figure ran immediately to fat. Still, best if she quickened that along.

'Sounds smart, I'll shower off real quick and get my own suit on. Can you order room service for me?' she asked, 'I haven't had a thing yet and need to eat at least 2,200 calories to keep up with everything.'

Amber snorted and smiled, 'Oh crap, I forgot you've always been thin. Carrie, you're going to blow through 2200 calories before you leave the room.'

She started the shower to the sounds of the blonde ordering a dizzying array of fattening goodies, enough to make her arteries wince. The gorgeous woman seemed intent on going from the picture of feminine health to the dictionary picture of morbid obesity quick as she could. Carrie promised herself to have a healthy if calorie heavy salad later and began soaping up, feeling the hard leaness of her figure with the only bulge the steely roundness of her butt.

Soon all of it would be soft and squishy, floppy and heavy. She'd draw stares not for being pretty, not that she did much, but for being obese. She wondered how fast the transition would be, how quickly she'd puff up...

It took quite a bit longer than she'd anticipated and when she walked out with a towel wrapped around her frame she saw Amber munching through her sixth slice of breakfast pizza, the calorie version of a nuclear bomb, with a half empty box of gourmet doughnuts next to her. The blonde's flat stomach had reverted to glutted magnificence, pushing her contrastingly toned thighs apart and resting on the couch.

'Got a little peckish,' amber grinned, 'don't worry, I ordered more for you.'

Carrie snorted and sat down next to her, picking out her own doughnut.

'You know, I expected you to veto this whole idea when I brought it up,' Carrie said, 'I mean, I didn't know you had the fetish too then...'

'Veto it? Oh hell no, I've been waiting for it for years,' Amber laughed evilly, stroking her immense gut, 'all those fat camps and dieticians to turn me from the fat nerd I was happy being into the perfect daughter for my washed up model mom, all that running and smiling and playing dumb. God I hated it, now that I never have to depend on being sexy again I can finally get fatter than ever. I'm aiming for three eighty.'

'Three eighty?' Carrie's eyes bulged, 'that's way more than the twice we'll need to be unrecognizable.'

'Yeah, we'll, I'll be extra unrecognizable,'  Amber grinned and sucked down the last piece of pizza, then groaned and leaned back, thousands of calories rumbling in her belly, 'might want to skip the beach until this evening...'

'I don't know Ambs, might find a guy with a prego fetish, ' Carrie chuckled, munching down on her second doughnut.

 

 

[Batman76]

Next part, weight begins showing up!

Oh shit this story is stupid.

Day 28: the first pounds

"Hundred ninety five, hundred ninety, ugh, six,' Amber grunted, hanging upside down from the pull up bar by her knees, forcing her burning, screaming abdominals to complete yet another weighted incline sit up.

'You're slacking!' her mother yelled as the bronzed blonde beauty caught her breathe.

'Mom, I'm so tired, can I just call this a full set?' Amber groaned

'Sure, if you want to be too fat to even get onto the stage for this summer's beauty pageant circut!', the former beauty queen, a stick thin blonde with a botox frozen face would have grimmaced if she could.

Amber groaned, 'but Mom, I don't even want to compete...'

'Not want to compete, you love competing!' her mom yelled, 'now get crunching or no computer time tonight!'

The girl winced and kept doing sit ups. She loved the internet, loved computers and code and video games and research and data and staring into the screen typing away. But once her older sister had graduated high school, her mom had focused all the fury of her personality on her shy, pale, fat younger daughter. Amber found her computer room with a physical lock and she was limited to one hour in there a day, even with school work, and only if she'd complete the ever increasing amount of exercise scheduled for her. Beloved sodas and chips were struck from her diet, replaced with carrots and celery and juice smoothies and the couch potato found herself turned over the summer into a fitness queen, going back to school fit, bronzed, dyed blonde and glorious. Boys paid attention to her for the first time, girls were jealous and stellar grades had plummeted down to Ds at best due to lack of time. She could feel herself getting dumber, becoming the idiot blonde air head her outer appearance suggested.

It was awful.

'Now let's get started on your 10K run!' her mom yelled, making Amber slip, 'the Michigan cold will help burn more calories!'

Amber snorted awake from her dream.

She found herself on a beach and under a warm sun, a luke warm dark beer in her hand. The bombshell adjusted her sun glasses and sat up. She spat some of her own golden locks out of her mouth and chugged down the rest of the beer, a hundred and fifty more calories rushing into her. As soon as it was done she tossed the aluminum bottle into a waste bin and reoriented herself, noticing that she was on the private beach behind her and Carrie's get away house. At a cool four million it was expensive even with their new net worth, but due to its privacy worth every penny.

'Fuck, what day is it?' she asked, feeling the hang over hitting her.

'Ugh, don't speak so loudly please,' Carrie grunted, pressing a pillow around her head 'its too fucking early for that...'

A glance at her friend and partner showed they had to have been there a while. The other thief was dressed in a simple white one piece, a backless one that happened to have a G-string and a single tie behind the neck. Usually white wouldn't go well on someone with pale skin like Carrie, but she'd picked up a nice golden tan, among other things.

'Getting kinda big back there I see,' Amber giggled, then playfully slapped her friends backside, grinning at how it felt fuller and softer, all those squats combined with a now 4K calorie a day diet making the slender woman a bit thick.

'Ugh, yeah that's the point,' Carrie told her sourly, 'we got any more beer?'

'Don't know Carrie, does this ass look like it needs it? Cause it sure doesn't feel like it,' Amber teased, 'all those squats aren't making you any harder...well, not much.'

She pinched and jiggled the newly tanned, freshly expanded flesh, some muscle under some fat. Carrie's butt had widened and lowered, sucking up more than its fair share of excess calories. All that running wasn't stopping her from trending towards a pear shape, her thighs were now starting to spread and her ankles were thicker.

'I've already added fifteen pounds,' her partner claimed.

'To you or to the weight rack?' Amber mocked, only for her friend to unexpectedly roll over and deny her her balance, making her fall to the sand with a soft thud and then her top to untie itself.

'No question on where you're gaining Miss beauty queen,' Carrie laughed, while Amber pouted.

The blonde's chest was getting heavier, soaking up just enough calories to make her E cups (remnants from her former obesity) start to puff into the next cupsize. That was a better measurement than her waist given how she was bloated from her rising at nine to when she passed out drunk around three pm, six hours of continuous over eating and day drinking with maybe a thousand steps taken during the whole process.

'It is thursday and 5:58 by the way,' Carrie told her, rolling over and showing her stomach did look a bit puffier.

'Oh fuck, thursday? I've got a date at 7,' Amber told her, pushing herself up, 'I've gotta go.'

She didn't spring up like she had. Nearly a month of total lethargy had taken rusted her steely muscles, grinding away years of working out. Her hard muscles had softened up and a little roll went over her bikini bottoms, the bloating from the nacho buffet at lunch having gone down enough to show the newly pinchable inch her abs had dissolved into. Leaving Carrie to her own devices, she hurried across the beach and up the hill towards their house. Not that she ran, the guy might be hot as fuck but damn if she was gonna run ever again.

Carrie watched Amber's butt jiggle and wiggle, size eight buns swallowing up a size four thong as she debated falling back asleep or getting up and finding a dinner or three to deal with this hang over.

Atop the hill and Amber was breathing a little quickly at the combination of hangover, heat and being suddenly out of shape. The later was a thrill, fuck you Mom I'm getting fat!, but it increased the hassle of her getting ready. She was still quickly in the shower though, hot steam cleansing sun screen and sweat from her skin and shampooing her glorious mane and then soaping her body. The later was distracting because every touch seemed to find softness reigning where hardness should have ruled. Squish at her mid drift, sag in her boobs, jiggle in her ass and fluff on her thighs. She was still thinner than average but hot damn she was no longer a hard body!

'Oh fuck yes, fuck yes,' she said, hand running up her thighs and massaging her clit while her free hand pinched and fondled her starter belly.

It took a lot of will power to keep herself from going, but the thing was she fully expected someone else to do it for her that night. And given how her 10/10 physique was dropping fast, she wouldn't get that many more chances. She tore her hands away and turned off the shower, walking out and toweling off, trying not to focus on the jiggle as she dried.

She did use the scale, finding that she'd gone from 132 to 156. Not over weight but within spitting distance to her joy. Once she was dry she shimmied into a thong, snug, and a low cut bra that her breasts filled past capacity and began applying make up. In the mirror she noticed a few things: a faint pimple on her cheek, the first one seen in over a decade, was a sign of her now atrocious diet while her chiseled cheek bones were starting to fade. And of course, six weeks without a touch up meant her brown roots were coming back in.

'Love it,' she grinned at herself and went to get dressed.

That presented a problem: six thousand calories a day here and seven thousand there and pretty soon slim fit size fours are running a bit snug. A decade spent as an exercised bubbly airhead had given her plenty of club clothes that a month of lazy, over eating computer surfing had grown her out of. Zippers wouldn't budge on little black dresses and tight pants wouldn't get past her chubbified ass.

'Damn it all,' she moaned from the bed, hips in the air as she tried to pull one last pair of leathers up her thighs before giving up.

Her hair was a mess, her make up was running and not a single stylish piece of clothing would fit. She had to guess she'd gotten back up to a size eight, not fat but not a fatless size four anymore either.

'And I really wanted sex...,' she said, before noticing how good she looked in the mirror, busty and curvaceous, 'hmmm, who needs clothes?'

She grabbed her phone and headed down stairs, finding Carrie snacking on a bowl of queso and a bag of chips, up to a size six herself, 'Hey Carrie, how would you feel about some company tonight?'

 

[Batman76]

The main characters get fatter and I think the story also gets dumber.

Day 52: Plump.

Carrie had always wanted to be spectacular, to stand out, to have every eye in a room turn to her when she entered and be impressed. Instead she'd just been good but never stand out. Throughout school she'd been smart, excelling in math, but hadn't been at the very top of her class. She'd done well in track but when you're only 5'4 you're never going to medal. She'd always been pretty but with her flat chest, brown hair and brown eyes she'd never been drool worthy.

In the well appointed gym of their little safe house the brunette pumped iron, twenty five pound barbells rising and falling evenly as she listened to neo-classical violin music. Sweat covered every inch of her but she was breathing evenly despite the two hour workout she'd done, a punishing set of weights and calisthenics. Her lift weights were skyrocketing: she'd started out at 10lb curls being almost too heavy and now needed to bump up to 30lbers, from a bare bar, 35lb squat to a 125 lbs being easy for her strengthening thighs, from being unable to shift the bench press bar to now being able to safely do 100lbs. The skinny girl was getting ripped, cut, buff and jacked.

Underneath her fat.

Carrie sat her dumb bells onto the wrack and bent to tie her shoes, feeling her ever increasing fat roll slide over her waistband. She adjusted it as she stood up, trying to get the spandex to not either have fat bunched under it or bulging over it and sighed as she failed. It would soon be time for yet another pair of spandex because while Carrie had through hard effort earned the ripped physique of a professional body builder, she'd unfortunately also earned the body of a mediocre flabby couch potato through her atrocious diet.

She flexed in the mirror and appreciated how much bigger her arms were, no more stick thin limbs. It made her feel strong, powerful and tough... but there wasn't any muscle tone on show. Her arms were beefy, sheathed with buttery flab. High amounts of protein had fueled the expansion of rock hard thighs but given how much of that protein was in bacon, her thighs slapped and wobbled without any hint of their strength. All those squats had carved a mighty edifice of her ass, but given how she was up to three pints of ice cream a day even more fat had poured on, transforming her into a full on pear. Four hundred sit ups and fifteen minutes of planks had given her diamond cut abs but afternoons lounging in a hammock killing a twelve pack had slathered a sloppy beer gut over them. Her extra cute, Emma Watson-esque face had puffed right up, delicate cheeks rounding out and dainty jaw getting a new jowl, making her look older than she was for once. Given how skinny and trim she'd been she was almost certain no on would recognize her now if she changed her hair, she could stop this ridiculous weight gain right here.

Except for the fat fetish she had.

'No one would ever believe all the exercise I do,' she sighed in the mirror, jiggling her beer gut as she walked out of the exercise room and onto the beach, thighs rasping a warning of future waddling.

She drank a cup of water and then two of Gatorade, both for electrolytes and for calories, checked her watch and started running her mile lap.

Carrie was an excellent sprinter, if her legs had been a little longer she could have coasted through college on an athletic scholarship. Short as they were, she'd started her island exile running at nearly ten miles an hour. No matter how strong she'd gotten, carrying around an extra fifty pounds (half of it at least lazy fat) was already cutting into it even before one took into account how her thighs slapped together.

The thief was running flat out after a moment, sand kicking up after her. Her gut pushed out over her shorts, while her ass poured out of it in the rear, brand new cellulite speckles greeting the sun and the brush-brush-rasp-rasp-slap-slap of her thick thighs starting to chafe. She kept interrupting her self to tug at her shorts, which got seemingly tighter by the minute, while her breath didn't bring in nearly as much air due to thicker fat on her chest. Borderline B cup breasts bounced just a bit, still fitting well in her sports bra, the one garment that didn't need replaced.

The brunette was breathing hard as she hit ran the beach and her pants were interrupted by a small pop.

'Oh no,' she said.

Pop.

Pop.

Pop.

Pop.

Carrie looked behind her, feeling humid ocean spray on her ass and seeing that the seam of her spandex was ripping stitch by stitch. Flabby cheeks were pouring out of the gap and she breathed harder at sudden arousal. Holy shit she had an ass, a big fluffy ass...

The ex-sprinter came in bare assed to her starting point and breathing heavy. A check of her watch and a quick calculation showed she was at 7.2 miles an hour, a fifth of her speed in less than two months.

'Can't have your cake and eat it too,' Carrie shrugged, 'at least I'm getting stronger.'

Inside, Amber was showing that you can at least have a shit ton of cake and eat all of it. The taller woman, a quarter of who's long blonde curls had returned to their natural brunette shade, was sitting topless on a bar stool with an entire birth day cake sitting in front of her. If the combination of exercise and over eating had turned the pale, scrawny Carrie tan and beefy, just over eating and playing video games had turned the curvy, athletic and tan Amber half way into a pale blob.

'We're you already up?' the hung over 3/4ths blonde asked blearily, taking a long sip of coffee that was half cream.

'Yeah...you know its eleven right?' Carrie asked, 'did you just wake up?'

'Oh ....right, long night playing COD,' Amber yawned and forked more cake into her mouth, 'I think I was up until...four I want to say?'

For a full five minutes, as Carrie made herself eight slices of whole wheat toast, Amber did nothing but eat, three tall pieces of triple chocolate cake evaporating away from her. Carrie watched the bomb shell, her jowl wobbling up and down as she ate like a cast away finding a cracker, instead of a woman who was pulling in ten thousand calories every day. Her angular face had turned round, picking up a few blemishes and thickening her nose. Huge, shapely E cups were settling, the bloated Fs resting lazily on her chest, surely failures of the pencil test especially as Carrie hadn't seen Amber wear a bra in weeks, since her last date.

And that had been a nice three some, come to think of it she hadn't had sex since...

Pouring honey and jam and butter onto the bread, the fat-fit woman walked around her friend. She took in Amber's barely tan skin, gone from deep bronze to peach, to how her tapered waist now bulged out half way to her knees. Carrie knew that she'd put on a bit more than forty five pounds all told, an impressive gain but she was sure that Amber had piled on at least ten pounds more than that. More than a pound a day, going from bombshell to blob...

'Hey Ambs,' Carrie said, watching her flabby partner polish off the cake, her lips coated in chocolate.

'Huh?' the blonde groaned, looking over at her and blinking.

'Checked our stock portfolio,' Carrie said, referencing the fund their loot had poured into, 'and we've made back what this house cost. So I'm thinking we celebrate, pour you into a black cocktail dress and go into town, get high, get drunk and then pour ice cream down your mouth until you bust out of that dress. Because you're way too damn skinny.'

 

 

 

[John Smith]

 

5 hours ago, Batman76 said:

The thief was running flat out after a moment, sand kicking up after her. Her gut pushed out over her shorts, while her ass poured out of it in the rear, brand new cellulite speckles greeting the sun and the brush-brush-rasp-rasp-slap-slap of her thick thighs starting to chafe. She kept interrupting her self to tug at her shorts, which got seemingly tighter by the minute, while her breath didn't bring in nearly as much air due to thicker fat on her chest. Borderline B cup breasts bounced just a bit, still fitting well in her sports bra, the one garment that didn't need replaced.

The brunette was breathing hard as she hit ran the beach and her pants were interrupted by a small pop.

'Oh no,' she said.

Pop.

Pop.

Pop.

Pop.

5 hours ago, Batman76 said:

Carrie looked behind her, feeling humid ocean spray on her ass and seeing that the seam of her spandex was ripping stitch by stitch. Flabby cheeks were pouring out of the gap and she breathed harder at sudden arousal. Holy shit she had an ass, a big fluffy ass...

 

[Batman76]

Day 135

More four months after the two slim beauties had stolen a hundred million dollars and absconded, Carrie and Amber's baby blue sports car pulled up into a parking lot next to a hair salon, riding low on its suspension. Once its purring engine turned off the doors opened, several burger wrappers falling from the passenger seat onto the already warm pavement, grudgingly followed by a pair of well used running shoes leading up to a seat of clumsily thick, milky pale cankles that slowly widened out to a wide pair of dimpled knees. Once the seat belt had slid past the saggy sprawl of her unsupported G cups and extricated from her freshly split double belly, totally exposed, Amber put unmanicured hands on the car's side and rocked forwards, blinking into the sun.

'Oh God, when did the sun start rising so early?' Amber yawned, new fourth chin spring into existence, groggy from having to wake up at the abominable hour of eight a.m. and barely sated with four mcgriddles and twice as many hashbrowns.

'Since always Ambs,' Carrie said, getting out and shoving the the keys into the somewhat tacky fanny pack she wore under her FUPA, 'like, you used to run every morning at five.'

'Ugh, don't remind me,' the obese blob yawned again, 'I have no idea how you can still do that to yourself.'

Amber, her overgrown hair halfway divided between faded bottle blond and her natural mud brown, waddled on towards the business.

'Not so easily anymore,' Carrie admitted, walking around the house and stretching one thick, beefy leg on a bench, noticing the trash Amber had spilled, 'gonna pick those up?'

'Ugh...I'm already so far away,' the once varsity cheer leader groaned and waddled back, bread dough thighs slapping together as she played up her extreme sloth.

'Holy shit you're pathetic,' Carrie smiled, walking behind her partner and seeing the once flexible woman groan as she clumsily bent down and picked up the wrappers of the junk already moving towards her gut and thighs, 'look at you, you used to do two hundred squats a day.'

'I told you, uhf, don't remind me,' Amber grunted with effort, trying to snag a wrapper a few inches under the car with one hand wrapped in a carpel tunnel brace.

Amber's ass had been a thing of wonder, a super pert bubble butt in the shape of a valentine's day heart, a high maintenance caboose kept inflated by squats and silky smooth by a vegetarian, sugar free diet. Now it was a monument to junk food, made wide by a snickers addiction and a soda habit, painstakingly flattened by day after day after day on her ass, with a painstakingly grown coating of cellulite that had burst free of her flabby ass cheeks down her moonscape balloon thighs. No one, not the police, not private investigators, not even her now imprisoned former boss would ever associate her with the bubbly, fashionable air head with the shining smile, flawless skin and pin up body.

Usually the once societally gorgeous secretary didn't bother wearing anything beyond a pair of underwear as she spent her days playing one mind killing video game after another but today she'd been shoehorned into a pair of neon pink shorts three sizes too small that flabby thighs and jello ass poured out of and her heavy apron gut spilled over, its roll a broad smile. She was wearing a trashy tube top that offered no support to a pair of saggy tits

'When I first saw you I was like 'she has to be wearing shape wear,' Carrie went on, 'noway a normal woman could have an ass like that.'

'You're one to talk,' the former blonde huffed as she got up, clapping her thighs together in an exaggerated fashion.

'Hey, I am ripped to hell and back,' Carrie bragged, flexing a deeply tanned bicep of impressive girth, 'You should be in awe of how in shape I am.'

Hours of exercise ever day had transformed the timid, skinny mini Carrie who's only notable feature was her cute face and slightly wide hips. She had big, bulging biceps and impressively cut triceps, with rock hard shoulders and powerful pecs. Ass cheeks the size of and general shape of soccer balls from all of her squats were matched with head crusher, thousand lunge a day thighs and gold medal athlete calves. She'd done enough reverse slope, weighted sit ups to earn a six pack three times over, flanked by obliques earned from long minutes of side planks. The nerd girl had become a confident body builder, displaying her bronzed muscle in a tight bikini that left nothing to the imagination, clearly proud of her physique, very few women after all could gain fifty pounds of muscle in months. She'd gotten her nose pierced with a diamond stud and wore her now blood red hair in a punky mow hawk.

'I'll take your word for that,' Amber huffed, blowing out her chip munk cheeks and raising one woolly eyebrow before taking hold of Carrie's considerable belly, 'I see all the rolls you get from Yoga and I think you're eating more than me anymore.'

Carrie might have the exercise routine of a professional body builder but her she earned the calories for that bulk the dirty way. The emptied mcdonald's bag Carrie held did hold the wrappers of six bacon, sausage and egg mcgriddles and a full dozen hash browns. Her muscle building protein shakes were cut with ice cream instead of milk and whenever she wasn't lifting she was stuffing herself with junk. Her bronzed skin hid the stretch marks and cellulite but they were still there and her once rapid sprint was barely a jog due to how her beefy thighs rubbing together shortened her stride. Carrie might almost be benching her new body weight of 228 lbs  but she was down to a not very impressive 5.6 mph on her runs. She had no visible tone, immense thighs and door brusher hips.

But she was eating her daily recommended amounts of vegetables and fruit per day along with all the dairy, protein, carbs and fat.

'...I'm just bulking,' Carrie said bashfully, 'if I ever cut I'd be gloriously ripped.'

'Nah, you're a fat ass under that muscle...under that fat. You being strong is temporary,' Amber promised, 'and I'm betting that at the end of the year, you've dropped the exercise bs entirely and gotten properly out of shape.'

'What do you bet me?' Carrie asked, crossing beefy arms around her still pert C cups.

'uhh...twenty million?' Amber offered, wishing this would finish so she could go collapse in the hair salon and get her remaining blonde locks cut off.

'Has to be something valuable to you,' Carrie rejected, 'how about...running.'

'...what?' Amber asked, horrified, 'you're joking.'

'If I can't bench my body weight in a hundred days you've got to run,' Carrie said.

'You trying to to kill me?' the bimbo turned nerd asked in horror.

'Of course not, but I don't want you to be all jello. You're just a lump filling up the couch anymore and much as I love all of you, I want to keep loving you for a long time' the ex-accountant said in, 'if I can bench my body weight, we start going on walks and cut the hard core gaining. I'm not saying get skinny again, but we can't keep gaining a pound a day.

Amber, didn't try and refute that. Yeah becoming the pale, shut in blob completely refuted the decade of falsely being a perfectly atheletic, thoughtless blonde she'd been forced to be, but she was well over double her old weight and got out of breath going from the bedroom to the living room. But that didn't mean she wanted to quit that easily.

'Fine. You know what, we can do that anyway,' Amber offered, 'but when you can't then no more lifting for you. We'll eat salads with our burgers and go for a walk every day, but you never lift a weight again. Deal?'

'Its a bet,' Carrie smiled, 'it'll be nice to see that gut bounce when we walk on the beach.'

Amber watched her girlfriend jog/waddle off, muscular fat bouncing alluringly. While Carrie's strength was kind of useful given her own complete lack of physical ability it kind of gratted on her to even be in a house with exercise equipment in it. In two months at least, she wouldn't be...she'd be sure of that.

Quite a while later, a sweaty Carrie waddled back towards her car, breathing hard from her run when her own car pulled up beside her. The window rolled down, revealing Amber with an unflattering pixie cut and far more junk food than should ever be in any individual car.

'Wanna hop in?' Amber asked, sucking a milk shake down.

'You're trying to fatten me up,' Carrie huffed.

'...yeah that's pretty obvious,' Amber admitted, 'so get in.'

 

 

 

[John Smith]

Nice!

[Batman76]

Like I did for the DC story, this will have two endings.

[John Smith]

2 minutes ago, Batman76 said:

Like I did for the DC story, this will have two endings.

I'm eagerly impatient to read thewe alternative endings.

[zachi]

18 hours ago, John Smith said:

I'm eagerly impatient to read thewe alternative endings.

second this

[Batman76]

Thanks, I'm trying to do shorter stories I can actually finish rather than meandering epics I forget about or lose interest in it write my self into a corner on.

... And have still some how added eighty thousand words to the DC wg interactive on writing.com

[zachi]

7 minutes ago, Batman76 said:

Thanks, I'm trying to do shorter stories I can actually finish rather than meandering epics I forget about or lose interest in it write my self into a corner on.

... And have still some how added eighty thousand words to the DC wg interactive on writing.com

Link?

[Batman76]

https://www.writing.com/main/interact/item_id/1569620-DC-Comics-Weight-Gain/action/recent_chapters

 

 Everything from #36 on  in the recent additions. Might adapt part of it here later. Obligated warning of it being ass... The website. That is

[Batman76]

Alright, let's finish this shit up:

Ending A:

Amber wasn't surprised that adding fifty pounds to an already very overweight frame could have disastrous consequences.

Enough fat on the chest and shoulders meant more pressure on the lungs, leading to a flare up of childhood asthma that necessitated carrying an inhaler 24/7 and wheezing annoyingly through the mouth.

Endless sugar highs meant developing pre-diabetes and having to go on medication that caused befuddled thoughts, clumsy movements and an unsightly acne outbreak.

Enough useless dead weight pressing down on the back and knees meant losing two inches in height and chronic low level joint pain.

Eating nothing but the richest food possible meant your big toe swelling up as you developed gout like you were King Henry the fucking 8th and not a woman in her early twenties who a year earlier had been rail thin.

The big surprise to Amber was that all of that fat had wound up not on her intended victim, partner and girlfriend Carrie, but on her.

'Time to wake up lard ass,' Carrie shouted from down stairs at the crack of noon, causing the swollen pile of fat that had once been a head turning, traffic accident causing varsity cheer leader to groan under her blankets, 'Hey tons of fun, its the big lifting day for our bet, so drag your giant gut out of bed or I'll carry you down!'

'I'm so tired...' the groggy ex-athlete moaned beneath the damp sheets, always sweating no matter how harsh the AC blew.

'You've slept sixteen hours Ms. Thunder Thighs, so get up and find something to squeeze into. Yesterday was your last day of being lazy!' Carrie insisted.

It took long minutes for Amber, who could do five standing back flips in a row when she'd been a ditzy, bubble headed secretary, to drag nerdy bulk out of bed, wincing as her overloaded knees complained about having to hold herself up and moaning when her fatberg hips knocked an emptied ice cream tub off the bedside table. She clumsily dragged an embarrassingly large thong up between her legs, trying to avoid her swollen, overloaded joints and began her wheezing way down the stairs. Amber almost balked at going down them, remembering how Carrie really had had to help push her fat ass up there and delayed by brushing her teeth, not recognizing the round faced, bepimpled lump of a woman with messy brown hair who stared back at her.

The stair case was narrow, far narrower than her gigantic ass cheeks which would have necessitated an entire row of airline seats. Nor could she actually see her swollen feet due to her deflated udders, a flopping tube sock of a J on the left mixed with a wobbling I on the right, nipples the size of coffee mugs. No one would have assumed she'd been voted best boobs in her college sorority, just like no one would guess that the knee length apron belly had once boasted the title of best abs. Clumsily waddling side ways down the stairs was an even that took far more effort than any cheer meet or cross country race from her skinny days and at the end Amber was sweating buckets and wheezing. She was in the worst shape of her life, far worse than her original obesity for not only was she much, much heavier but she'd gone from fit to fat in a rush and her body was not capable of really dealing with it.

'My god, you're like a horror movie monster,' Carrie laughed as she walked from the kitchen, 'look at you, attack of the killer marshmallow!'

'Ugh, get me my morning 2-liter. I can't stand the sight of you like that,' Amber groaned, waddling to the fridge and pulling out more mountain dew than anyone should ever drink, 'it's awful, we should both be being fitted for medical scooters and here you are with...muscle.'

'What's a matter Ambs, did your little plan to bulk me up backfire?' the once timid brunette laughed, flexing a bicep that had begun showing actual muscle tone through its covering fat, 'and remember, the diet starts today, along with the walking and the lifting and the yoga...'

'Ugh, shut up,' Amber groaned, flopping onto the couch, which shuddered in warning, 'you still have to bench it first...'

'Let me weigh myself first,' Carrie, who'd gotten her hair cut into an aggressive mohawk to counter Amber's timid pixie locks, 'need to be accurate after all.'

'You disgust me, you could be so fat and so hot and yet you choose...to be skinny,' Amber said with mock horror.

It wasn't that Carrie was thin by any means, the numbers on the scale did flash 207lbs after all. But while Amber was a groaning, sweaty, morbidly obese warning about what a life of constant junk food consumption and less than five hundred steps a day could do to even the fittest woman, Carrie was a promise that you could be fat and fit, if you were a millionaire who did nothing but exercise and eat all day.

'207 lbs wow...i'd have struggled with that...months ago,' Carrie grinned, waddling over to the weight bench.

Carrie would never run again, her lower body was quite simply too thick for it. Hundreds of squats, weighted and non, every day had ballooned her backside out, giving her cheeks like beach balls filled 80% of the way, taut powerful muscle under a protective layer of fat, while all of her leg lifts and lunges had bulked her leg muscles out by the pound. Combined with thick fat deposits and the chafe of her thighs prevented any run, making her goal of cutting her immense amount of body fat currently hard but not impossible.

It turned out cutting fast food, candy, potato chips, soda, beer and pork rinds from your diet and switching over to boiled eggs, fresh fish, salad and yogurt was actually good for you. Carrie had dropped thirty pounds of body fat and added another ten of muscle in only two months, her fat fueling a muscular metamorphisis. Enough lard had burned away from her arms that her quite frightening biceps were showing all the time now, while her gut had receeded, pulling back up from its sag into just a thick muffin top.

'I'm going to cut all of this,' Carrie bragged, 'I'm gonna be a fucking goddess.'

She slid under the weight bench, still set to her old max of 228 lbs. With a confident grin, born from being able to easily do 260 lbs, Carrie pressed up, swiftly lifting up the bar and slowly bringing it down to rest upon her very pert breasts and immensely strong pectorals. She raised her head up, looking at the snowy blob of her girlfriend.

'Say by to all that fat Amber, because now you're going to be fit, say goodbye to couch potato and say hello to...' Carrie said as she pushed...and felt a spasm of pain in her right wrist.

A muscle cramp, at the very worst possible time for Carrie hit, and the suddenly easy to manage weight became far too heavy to hold up with one hand. For a second she wobbled and then the right side of the weights slammed onto the ground with a horrible, echoing clang. Amber sat still in shock, unable to believe what had happened even as the cramp in her wrist soothed itself out.

One minute later or earlier, maybe with a slightly better stretch or a less vigorous early morning work out would have made all the difference ...but now it was too late.

She found plastic at her lips and hyper sugary corn syrup pouring down her mouth. Amber stood over her, a pure demonic grin on her moon round face. Carrie could have spat it out, could have refused but a bet was a bet after all.

'Welcome to morbid obesity Carrie, population, us,' Amber cackled, all of her body jiggling and swaying, her once melodic laugh a groaning, piggish snort.

'It was a fluke! You saw me bench more than that yesterday!' Carrie tried to protest, her stomach already churning at the presence of unnecessary sugar.

'Too bad that's not what the deal was,' Amber insisted, picking up her greasy phone and flipping open the ap for a pizza place, 'now I want all of this weight lifting, fitness shit in the trash by sunset. The weights, the shoes, the treadmill, all of it. Clothes to, you won't be fitting into them for very long anyway.'

'Carrie, this is nuts! You know its nuts!' Carrie groaned, but found herself beginning to stack her precious weights, 'we've got to get healthy, you can't keep eating like this...'

'People would say you couldn't steal a hundred million dollars and live out your fantasies of getting super fat on a tropical island,' Amber grinned back, 'but we did that anyway. So I'm ordering five pizzas for me and ten for you, you've got some catching up to do.'

'...make them meat lovers,' Carrie grunted, rolling up an exercise mat that would never be used again.

'Too much protein in that, might sustain your muscles longer. How about ten desert pizzas, with cinnamon sticks and three two liters?' Amber asked instead, already placing the order 'and a more important question, blue or red?'

'For what?' her once fitness fanatic girl friend grunted, opening the door with weights over her shoulder, the last time she'd ever be able to carry something so heavy.

'For your mobility scooter,' Amber explained, siting her sore legs down for the day.

'I don't need a mobility scooter!,' Carrie yelled at her, angrily tossing the weights in the trash.

'Well, given that you're now on a maximum one thousand steps a day exercise program, I'm gonna say that yes, yes you do,' the former blonde bombshell laughed.

'...Blue,' Carrie yelled back sullenly.

[xandercroft]

I hope ending A continues!

[Batman76]

Ending B:

 

There were a lot of words that could describe Carrie as she went down the paved beach path at the steady pace of eight miles an hour.

Fast, enduring, dedicated, fit, athletic, speedy, strong, quick, graceful, agile, buff, ripped, admirable...

Were not those words.

The former data analyst and one of the two greatest thiefs in the history of the world clumsily reached between her legs with a stubby arm tipped by sausage fingers, blindly groping for her third morning soda in the deep, sweaty canyon of thigh fat shaded by her knee length gut. Carrie's immense laziness warred with her constant need for corn syrup and her back cracked as she leaned forwards, enormous paunch and floppy grainsack boobs pressing into the wheel of her ultra-duty mobility scooter and making it give a soft 'beep' from the horn. Carrie tore her piggy brown eyes from the road and the gleaming bronze buttocks she usually stared at and tried to suck in her triple stacked gut, even though she'd outgrown the ability to do so well over a year ago, her atrophied abdominal far too weak. The very tips of her pudgy fingers touched the top of the soda but when she tried to pull it from the cup holder it got stuck by the vast sprawl of her porkish-thighs.

'Damn it, they really don't design these things for a real woman,' Carrie grunted, clumsily shoving one foot, swollen by gout and fat, into the brake and slapping the horn three times in a row.

At the pre-arranged signal, Amber sighed and turned around, sprinting back to her tormentor, partner and feedee on her trim, athletic legs.

'Ambs, I can't get my soda...,' Carrie whined, sitting back in the seat of her mobility scooter, quarter ton bulk making the little vehicle's backwheels look awful flat.

Carrie's hips, almost too big for the doors of a house designed to get fat in, poured over the side of the scooter. A g-string big enough to jump rope double dutch style disappeared into her rolls and crevices. Her ass was so big she couldn't close the car door past it, leaving her home bound. The once mousy woman had always wanted to be noticed and now no one could ignore her.

'How lazy are you, that you can't even reach a two liter a foot from you?' Amber asked, raising up one eyebrow towards her again dyed golden locks.

'Less than you'd be if I hadn't dedicated myself to lifting,' Carrie said, mountainous fat rolls jiggling in excitement as Amber's steely fingers slid up and down her thighs, trying to find that damn bottle, 'you were so incredibly fat and lazy then. Look at you now!'

Amber wasn't quite back at her old cheer captain shape but she could have squeezed into her varsity skirt with only a moderate to large muffin top pouring over it. She had a good roll of tummy fat that just wouldn't go away no matter how much she dieted and despite an experimental and successful series of procedures to get rid of her excess skin her tits were a bit floppy before the boob job to correct them into perfect Fs but she'd sustainably and healthily dwindled from her gouty, pre-diabetic bulk to fit, strong 175lbs. A quarter could be bounced off her stretch marked but iron hard buns, her figure was hour glass again due to the size of her muscular hips and fake boobs and she had legs for days again, her pre-diabetes and high blood pressure things of the past.

'And look at you, looking like you could bench twenty five pounds and walk to the fridge with some help sitting up,' Amber grinned, taking in the deep canyons of her fat rolls, the tiny bikini cups failing to give Carrie's floppy tatas one tenth the support they needed and an ass wider than her slightly shrunken girlfriend was tall, 'I remember when you never missed a day lifting and now look at you...'

'*urp*,' Carrie belched, finishing off the soda, 'hey, I never said I'd stay in shape...'

Two years earlier, a fat but fit Carrie had easily benched her body weight of 228 lbs after a careful stretch. For the overweight, milk pale, dangerously out of shape Amber the next months had been a nightmare of diet and exercise, forcing her near helpless body into motion again against the inertia that follows a two hundred plus pound weight gain in seven months. But as her own body fat receded, a wondrous thing had happened:

Carrie had begun slacking.

So lazy, so in need of constant monitoring and coaxing was the once stellar fit Amber that Carrie had no time for her own exercise. When Amber needed to be forced at rhetorical gun point to lift, she didn't have time to do a single set herself. With Amber too even walk long distances without resting, and too gluttonous to be trusted not to find junk food somewhere if left alone, Carrie had to go at her pace. Her muscles deflated back under her re-multiplying fat, while her diet went from healthy to obscenely disgusting as she pilfered all of Amber's stockpiled junk food to get rid of it.

Amber noticed pretty quick how those beefy arms got soft, how Carrie got increasingly out of breath and began pulling larger clothes back out of storage. Noticing turned to teasing turned to feeding and two years later it was Carrie the pile of fat out growing the couch and Amber the bronzed, slightly soft but very fit muscle goddess. It turned out the sexual joy she'd gotten at seeing her own body balloon into parent defying obesity was nothing compared to the sight of her bronzed, almost perfection against her girlfriend's helpless, milky bulk as the meat sweats hit her simultaneously as an orgasm.

'I think it was implied, but no big deal,' Amber told her, leaning in for a kiss and shuddering at wonderful taste of soda on her lover's lips, 'a taste she hadn't tasted in two years...,'however there's a couple things...'

'Yeah?' Carrie belched, drinking in the contrast between Amber's rippling arms and still squishy paunch.

Amber grinned, a truly evil fucking grin as she took a look at the trail back to their house and at the red, low battery warning for Carrie's mobility scooter, 'I've figured out we work best with one lazy fat ass sitting around getting pampered and one buff girl doing all the logistical work. And well...I'm tired of being the buff one...'

'What are you suggesting?' Carrie asked, atrophied muscles trembling, whether in fear or anticipation she didn't know.

'Let's see if we can switch,' Amber smiled, holding her arms up over her head and stretching for what would hopefully be her last run in two years, 'we race back to the house, first one there get's morbidly obese.'

'Easy contest,' Carrie smiled, 'this thing will do twenty!'

Amber watched her speed by, electric engine roaring up hill while she walked on without any apparent hurry, already salivating over going back to the couch and spending a few hundred thousand on junk food and ordering a new video game console. She began to count as Carrie's scooter crested the last hill, engine beginning to whine...

'And a three, two and a one,' the temporarily fit again temporary blonde smiled, hearing the scooter stutter to a halt.

Amber had barely extricated herself from the chair by the time Carrie got there, balloon body already covered with sweat. The for now athletic member of the pair easily caught up with her gasping partner, walking backwards as she passed her and through open the sliding glass door of the house.

'So these steps won't count against your daily total,' Amber told her smugly, already thinking of just how much junk she could eat, 'I'll pull the scooter up later so I can use it, I want to average no more than three hundred steps a day if I can.'

Carrie wheezed as she watched Carrie strip off her own tiny workout bikini, stomach rumbling after minutes of denied hunger.

'Oh well, its only temporary,' she grunted.

[Batman76]

So this story is done.

It strayed really far from the initial premise but well, I wrote it with the goal of knocking it out in less than a month and finished that.

[John Smith]

Nice conclusions!