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Borderlands: The Siren Feeder


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  • 2 weeks later...

Scenes of a Siren going to Seed 1/3

Day 0 of Amara's Gain

"Girls, girls, we don't need to do this," Amara stammered as she was dragged into her chambers by the waddling, jiggling forms of her girlfriends, "do we? I'm sure that there's something else we can do! Anything else! I'll pay you! Every cent that I have just to not do this!"

"Amara, this is the only way to stop the twins from getting to the monsters inside the vaults," Lilith wheezed, puffing on her inhaler before going down a short flight of stairs in the pleasure yahct, "who knows what they could do if they get that power?"

"Yeah, w-wh-who knows!?" Amara stammered, "I b-bet it can't be that bad! I'll just handle whatever it is! What's T-Tyreen going to do, turn into a big tentacle monster or something?"

"We'll never know, because we'll make sure you get to five hundred pounds before her," Moze said determinedly.

"F-five h-hundred, isn't that a little bit big?" the sole remaining Siren asked desperately, "How about I just try and use the key now? I bet I can take it!"

"No, you'd turn into ash at your weight. We've got to get you some nice padding to cover up all your muscles," Moze said, running her fingers over Amara's bulging abdominals, "a lot of padding."

It was a ridiculous sight to any outside observer. The Siren bulged with diamond hard muscle from head to toe, her recent feeding sessions and heavy workouts having put Amara into the best shape of her life. Heavy biceps were flexed against the pull of the doughy raider pair, making her veins stand out against the hard muscle. Rippling abdominals were almost frightening in their size and definition, looking barely human they were so toned. Both the women who led them were wobbling cream puffs of pale fat, each significantly shorter than her and clearly in terrible shape. She could snap free at a moment's notice even without the mystical powers from blue glowing tattoos...

But she wasn't.

Moze's soft shoulders were slumped forwards from her overgrown milkers, she had to stop and rub her back with her free hand and cause boob quakes to flash under her disintegrating tank top, their lower edge hanging out of the shirt. The 5' mercenary's belly had at some point burst its button and zipper, her chubby thighs and starting to spread hips the only thing holding up her pants. Lilith was in even worse shape, the obese nerdlet needing to hit her inhaler twice as her asthma kicked in from sexual excitement. The ex-siren's round face was completely red from huffing and puffing, her barely fitted pants were worn near see through from chaffing and she hadn't notice that the crotch seam of her pants had ripped out entirely, letting her purple thong and the pale flesh swallowing it hang out.

"P-p-padding?" Amara squeaked, normally brash voice rising higher and higher.

"Oh yeah, I bet you grow a great big gut," Moze said, opening the door to Amara's rooms, "maybe hanging down to the floor even."

"I bet your arms take a lot of the weight too, the way you can add muscle to them," Lilith suggested, jiggling her own under arm fat for emphasis, "I bet you replace all the muscle you lose with fat pretty quick and get you a big set of lunch lady arms."

"L-l-Lunch lady arms?" the siren whined as the two hauled her into her rooms, "and l-l-lose my muscle? I, surely I can work out? How about I get strong-f-f-fa...not as defined!? Please?"

"No, your muscle all has to go. It burns up too many calories while resting as it is.," Lilith said, voice almost authoritative beyond its asthmatic rasp, "you're on orders for no more than two thousand steps a day walking and no lifting anything heavier than a full spoon. Once your lean muscle is all gone you can build up some strength again."

"All gone? I, listen ladies this is crazy, you have to see its crazy. Me becoming a big, fat lazy blob," Amara panted, afraid and turned on beyond rational measure, "I'm a badass..."

"I know its not what you want, but its not that bad," the asthmatic nerd that used to be the galaxy's biggest badass said, pushing her coke bottle frames up her pimply nose, "really you get used to being too fat to walk long distances pretty quick."

"And you stop missing being able to see your feet after a while," Moze chuckled, patting her gigantic hangers, "but don't worry kitten, I'll be sure to protect you once you're too fat to get out of a chair."

The mercenary pushed the cut Siren onto a couch with a flick of her finger, Amara's momentarily toned butt plopping onto the cushions. Almost every instinct the Siren had told her to run, to burst out of her room towards the nearest life pod and take her chances on the cold vaccuum of space. But her toned legs didn't so much as twitch, although her shoulders were trembling mightily.

Ah, you look a little scared there, kitten," Moze observed, bending down towards her taller lover and giving the scared Siren a view of her spectacularly deep cleavage as her floppy tatas swung perpendicular, "Do you really not want to do this? All you have to do is say no.'

No. It was such an easy word for Amara to say...except her lips couldn't form it. Instead she watched Lilith waddle over to the food synthesizer, selecting a truly gigantic amount of fattening junk and her traitor mouth timidly begged,

"Feed me."

 

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On 1/25/2020 at 6:30 PM, robby84263 said:

 

Amara made Moxxi’s ass fat, Moze’s breasts, Lilith’s belly – so, it would seem only fair, if the girls now would make all body parts of Amara fat.

I also hope, that Tannis will continue to gain. She is a beautiful woman. It would be great, if you or another artist would draw pictures that show the gaining process of the girl, e.g. Moxxi, Tannis…

This here looks already nice:

https://www.reddit.com/r/borderlands3/comments/d94m3n/found_this_wonderful_moxxi_artwork_today_i_wanted/

https://twitter.com/antsstyle/status/1138170217417400320

https://www.flickr.com/photos/patloika/8694940834

https://www.flickr.com/photos/dtjaaaam/14515642659/

https://2eu.funnyjunk.com/pictures/Borderlands_832e85_5913337.jpg

https://overly-kinky-muses.tumblr.com/post/186828606871/maya-from-borderlands-2-a-commission-by-turnipupp

https://www.deviantart.com/idle-minded/art/Commission-Bigger-in-Borderlands-379984911

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Scenes of a Siren going to Seed 2/3

Day 7 of Amara's Gain

Carbohydrates were the bane of Amaras' existence.

Foul and cursed chains of sugar, the hateful molecules existed for no other reason but to cover up hard earned muscle. To rob the thousands of hours she'd spent lifting and running of their purpose, destroying the definition gained from honest exercise. Fat was at least honest and found in even the leanest meat, it existed to do nothing but give energy to its consumer. Yet carbs?

They were empty of nutrients, a hollow high that made the consumer weaker. Carbs were the food of prey animals, rabbits and deer, growing fat and slow that their betters might consume them. The food thereof, of food. Not the food of a huntress, a predator, a Tigress.

A tigress ate only meat. A tigress was a strong, proud independent huntress. A predator who hunted down her prey, not a weak domesticated animal waiting around for food...

"So my little chocoholic kitten, is this enough fucking chocolate sauce for you?" Moze asked over the squirt of a bottle, "I really hope so because this shit is cold..."

The short stack gunner was only wearing two pieces of clothing. One was a brace around her eternally sore knee, squishy thigh fat pooching over its top. The other was a red, lacy underwire bra, pushing the merc's pendulous cleavage up into a veiny canyon nine inches deep. Half a quart of rocky road ice cream had been plopped into the tit trough, its quarter melted goop making Moze's tea saucer nipples press hard into the bra's padding. An almost equal mount of chocolate sauce had been poured onto it, pouring over the rim of her bra and dripping down onto the gunner's pudgy paunch, which was less and less an after thought.

Amara's purple blue eyes went wide at the fattening soup her girlfriend's heaving chest held. Lust at the sight of the gigantic boobage the once flat chested woman slumped under was familiar, shooting up from the soaked front of Amara's panties in pleasurable throbs, the same emotion she'd always held at fatty flesh. But the lust was accompanied by a new emotion, one the toughened warrior usually only felt looking at a plate of lean synthetic meat after a hard day fighting and working out.

Hunger.

"Gods, put some marshmallow cream onto there or I'm gonna die," Amara begged, shame at asking for more empty calories coloring her tan cheeks.

"Marshmallow cream? Now there's a damn surprise, I guess we're making a fatty out of you after all," Moze giggled, ice cream dripping out of her boobs, "but the kitchenette is too damn far away from me to walk to. You know how it is being a lazy fat fuck, right Kitten?"

The galaxy's sole free Siren was sat on a stool, wearing a thong, her collar, a pair of hand cuffs fixed behind her back and an expression of shame. Moze ran her eyes up and down the taller woman, seeing that there was plenty of muscle on display, the polish was off their tone. The tan woman's chiseled belly was a bloated food baby that never went down and was slowly growing larger as her stomach capacity grew in.

"I'm not a fat fuck," the Tiger tried to deny only for Moze to shove her boobs straight into her face.

The Siren mentally shouted at herself to resist but her mouth began sucking and swallowing quick as she could.

"Of course you are, kitten," the gunner said, shuddering as Amara's licks and nibbles made her sensitive breasts shake, "all you can think about is laying around and getting fed, right?"

Something that might have been a yelp of denial came from Moze's cleavage, but it was hard to tell. After a minute Amara's head popped up, covered in sticky chocolate and melted ice cream, gasping in and out through her mouth. The gunner smiled and stood up, rubbing her eternally sore back as the Siren panted, beginning to chuckle when Amara licked her lips.

"What...what are you looking at?" the Siren asked.

"Your fucking breathing, you're breathing in and out through your mouth like a fat rookie on their first day of boot camp," Moze laughed, "you already forget how to breathe properly?"

"No, no I'm just out of breath...," Amara denied, but her much shorter, for now heavier lover pressed in close, running chubby fingers up and down her body.

"And your muscle tone, its already starting to fucking slip," Moze pointed out, poking Amara's bicep, "How long's it been since you've done a set of curls?"

The sticky Siren looked down at her arm, wincing as Moze found just enough softness to pinch, "Seven days, nineteen hours and twenty four minutes."

"But who's fucking counting, right?" Moze laughed, abandoning the tall woman's slowly deflating bicep to pat her very full belly, "Besides calories, that's about four thousand I've put into you on my shift today, can you believe that?"

"Ugh, of course I can. My belly is sore and my teeth hurt and my skin feels greasy," the Siren begged, shifting in her seat, feeling her stomach slosh, "do you think that I could have a break, please? I'd like a shower and a nap, I don't think I've slept since...how many days has it been?"

"Two, the tiredness will ease your digestion and encourage muscle atrophy. And maybe, but that depends," Moze said, pacing around the panting, sticky faced woman, "did you know your breasts are swelling?"

Amara looked down, seeing her customary C cups had changed. Each of her perky breasts had a slightly shiny quality to their skin, pulled tight as the fat tissue within started to accumulate. Even at her leanest she'd been decently busty so the change wasn't that drastic, but her keen eye for gains estimated a cup size' growth. Amara's nipples, previously very small had a stretched quality to them and were a darker brown than they had been.

"Its all the dairy products, the hormones in it are messing with my cycle. I'm not used to it," the siren admitted shyly.

"And well, all the industrial hormones the woman's food in the ship has," Moze added, hefting her own immense breasts as an indication, "Tannis ran some tests on it and its a mix of birth control and fertility drugs that make you swell up like your pregnant, while making you hornier than fuck. With an additional, possible side effect..."

"Which is?' Amara whimpered, already knowing what the cocktail of drugs she'd introduced into the food supply was doing to Moze.

"Lactation," the top heavy mercenary said, undoing the front clasp of her sticky bra, larger than head sized boobs flopping out to rest on her paunch.

Aside from being sticky with chocolate sauce and ice cream, the gunner's huge, swollen, blue veined knockers had milky tear drops on her dark, tea cup size nipples.

"Thiese drugs have me feeling like a fucking milk cow," the gunner went on, "if I don't drain them out every day I start to leak all over my clothes. Now, I'm gonna guess that your tits are feeling a little more sensitive, right? That they get sore easy when they bounce around?"

Amara, who's growing tits were a little sore, nodded, both dreading and anticipating what was coming.

"Nothing compared to these things and how they feel when they need a milking," Moze smiled, her small hands hefting the heavy boobs, "its both really arousing and painful when they're full of milk, but having them milked can feel really good. Good enough I think you'd earn yourself a break for sucking them dry..."

"Y-you want me to n-nurse you?" the Siren asked, a string of drool falling from her mouth.

"What, are you telling me you don't want to suck these things dry and fill up your greedy little tummy?" Moze asked, awkwardly placing herself onto Amara's lap, her own heavy paunch sliding over the Siren's rockhard food baby, "That you don't want to wash down that cold ice cream with some warm milk?"

"I-I, I just, I'm so full and all I want, all I want," Amara stammered, able to think of nothing but the wide nipples in front of her, filled with an instinctual desire to suckle, "is to rest and to..."

"Yeah, no way you're still hungry," Moze said, teasingly shaking her breasts, "you'd have to be a real, greedy fat ass to suck my tits dry now..."

Moze gave a long soft moan as Amara's mouth found her right nipple. Full of milk as she was, the lactating gunner squirted easily into her girlfriends mouth and the stuffed siren gently sucked it down, like she'd been starving instead of gorged on ice cream. Amara found the milk warm, rich and sweet, Moze' own high fat, high sugar diet making her milk delicious. After only a few moments the gunner's right tit was dry, Amara releasing it with a burp.

"Fuck, I guess you are a real greedy fat ass," the gunner said, looking down to see how her right breasts, always slightly smaller had lost a good cup size from being drained, "ready for boob two?"

Amara leaned back on the groaning stool, her already sticky mouth dripping with milk and her already swollen belly starting to groan, "No more..."

"No more? No more?" the other vault hunter asked, "you're going to leave me sitting here lop sided? With one sore boob, just begging to be sucked?"

The Siren blinked and found a boob larger than her head right before her eyes. She had to refuse it, she had to say no, to deny the glutton released in her and take back control! She had to reject the delicious boobful of milk...which tasted even better than the right tit did, rich and warm and sweet...

"You alright there, kitten?" the drained Moze asked, sliding off Amara's lap and away from the groaning keg of her belly, "You look ready for a bath and a nap..."

Amara could only moan in answer, needing the short stack's help to rise up and stumble into her palatial bathroom. The Siren was only allowed a couple minutes standing up with Moze in the marble shower, the weak gunner massaging the Siren's swollen stomach and throbbing clit, keeping her at the verge of orgasm but not letting her cross over it. Once the ice cream was washed off, Amara was gently led to the deep, step in tub, hot water and bubbles rising up over the engorged Partali woman. Whimpering, dreaming of being chased by an endless tide of ice cream and milk, the Siren fell asleep.

Moze let the bath fill, cutting the hot water before her stuffed girlfriend could drown. Only Amara's face, breasts and swollen belly rose among the suds and she kicked slightly when Moze patted the later.

"Ready for the trade off, killers?" Lilith asked, waddling into the pleasure yacht's vast suite, "I brought pot brownies..."

The Commander of the Crimson Raiders had stripped off her constricting clothing in preparation for hours of feeding and eating. Inside a pink fuzzy bathrobe that couldn't fully cover her rotund gut, Lilith was wearing the purple, Tiger of Partali themed thong Amara had gifted her, although the dark skinned siren's face on the front of the panties was hidden by the droop of Lilith's ivory pale belly. The bespectacled redhead rested the heavy tray on the upper slope of her pampered belly, the crease around her navel growing deeper seemingly by the day it seemed. She snagged one brownie with a puffy hand, munching it down with an orgasmic sigh. Crumbs fell from her mouth into the shallow cleft of her bared, B cup breasts.

"I am but our little kitten is all tuckered out," Moze said, "she's going to need a few hours rest to recover."

Moze hadn't always liked Lilith. The depowered Siren had always seemed too good, too perfect, both curvaceous thin and incredibly stacked before blowing up. Upon turning into a short sighted, flat chested, giant stomached nerdette, Lilith had taken up too much of Amara's attention, keeping Moze's jealousy. But now that they were allies in feeding up the Siren...

"Damn shame," the asthmatic woman huffed, "we've got a schedule to keep for her...although that's a pretty good belly you've put onto her."

"I think we can cross off "conflate sex and food" off our list," the gunner told Lilith, "she's been blushing all afternoon while I fed her up."

"Good, did she go for the milking like you thought?" Lilith said, casting a slightly jealous/slightly horny eye at Moze's immense, slightly deflated hooters.

"She drank it down faster than I could make it," Moze boasted, "I'll keep it up for my shifts, it'll be a good way to help with my diet. I haven't even been able to start it with how busy we've been."

"Yeah, I've been eating like shit lately too," Lilith said, as if it was a change from how she'd eaten in the past months, "I really should go for a salad every once and a while."

Lilith sucked her sagging stomach in a little bit for emphasis, then relaxed it immediately. The former badass' gut was too big for her atrophied stomach muscles to do much with. Moze looked at the huge belly with no small amount of lust, months spent as a feedee had given her a firm appreciation for fuller female forms and she was a little bit jealous of how centered Lilith's gain was.

"Yeah, probably should start dieting tomorrow. The clothes I ordered when we started this are starting to get awfully snug," Moze admitted, not detailing how the only fastenable bra she had was now covered in sticky ice cream, "I'm getting to be a big girl..."

"And I'm not exactly in vault hunting shape," Lilith admitted, as if the hundred and twenty pounds she'd packed on in a few months weren't apparent to anyone with eyes to see her lard or ears to hear her asthma.

Both women were well over two hundred pounds and their gluttonous habits hadn't changed at all. In their free time the vault hunters were as gluttonous and lazy as they'd been when Amara had been feeding them, Moze even abandoning the short, waddling walks that had been her exercise. Fat was continuing to pack onto their bodies, Lilith's ass was starting to puff out and Moze' belly was making gains on her huge boobs.

"So, you mentioned you brought pot brownies...," Moze began, "they smell...pretty good."

"Yeah, I figured we need to get her started on self motivated boredom eating. Having the munchies for most of the day should get that done," Lilith said, "and man, they are just really good..."

"And fresh...you know I bet we can digistruct more of them for when Amara wakes up," Moze said, already waddling towards the pyramid of brownies with greed in her eyes...

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9 hours ago, robby84263 said:

Amara made Moxxi’s ass fat, Moze’s breasts, Lilith’s belly – so, it would seem only fair, if the girls now would make all body parts of Amara fat.

 

I also hope, that Tannis will continue to gain. She is a beautiful woman. It would be great, if you or another artist would draw pictures that show the gaining process of the girl, e.g. Moxxi, Tannis…

 

This here looks already nice:

 

https://www.reddit.com/r/borderlands3/comments/d94m3n/found_this_wonderful_moxxi_artwork_today_i_wanted/

 

https://twitter.com/antsstyle/status/1138170217417400320

 

https://www.flickr.com/photos/patloika/8694940834

 

https://www.flickr.com/photos/dtjaaaam/14515642659/

 

https://2eu.funnyjunk.com/pictures/Borderlands_832e85_5913337.jpg

 

https://overly-kinky-muses.tumblr.com/post/186828606871/maya-from-borderlands-2-a-commission-by-turnipupp

 

https://www.deviantart.com/idle-minded/art/Commission-Bigger-in-Borderlands-379984911

 

Ha, I wish I had any sort of drawing skill whatsoever.

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Managed to use an old, crappy iPad and blue tooth keyboard for now. I'll have to extend out this portion to get the other half of Amara's first gain...

 

Scenes of a Going to Seed 3/4

Day 21 of Amara's Gain

"Oh gods of Partali, no! That's the worst thing anyone could ever do!" Amara sobbed, tears running down her face as the dull light of the TV screen played over her, "you liar! You said you loved her!"

"Well, its not exactly the worst, Sugar," Moxxi said languidly, taking a sip of her protein shake, "the best ending to one of my marriages ended with me being left for a gold digger. And I mean a literal gold digger, he went all machina-phillia and left me for a nuclear powered mining rig."

"You were left, oh that's terrible!" Amara sobbed, leaning across the couch and wrapping the fatter woman in a soft, squishy hug that knocked her own snack to the ground.

"Well, it could have been worse," the well preserved femme fatale promised, patting the darker woman's back and feeling how soft Amara's shoulders were getting, her face splitting into a smile, "he might have spilled my cereal."

"Your cereal?" Amara asked, eyes drawn to the family sized box of spilled, so sugary it might as well have been candy cereal, its cinnamon crunch and marshmallow shapes having piled on the floor, "Oh no, my cereal! How could I have been so stupid!? I'm just a big fat, lazy useless lump. oh how can you even look at me?"

The Siren's cries redoubled, Moxxi smiling as she patted a soft thigh, "there there sugar, must be hard to know where you end and start as fat as you're getting."

"I'm, I'm not fat," Amara sniffed, only for Moxxi to pinch the lazy paunch where her proud abs had once risen.

"Oh sugar, let's face facts. You may have just joined, but you're a member of the fat girl's club now," Moxxi grinned while the once tough as nails Siren cried.

It was Moxxi's shift to feed the Siren and both were in Amara's luxurious quarters, stretched out on the Siren's extra large couch, while the TV played the sappiest rom-com Moxxi could find. Moxxi was uncharacteristically fresh faced, wearing a silky teddy that shamelessly displayed her swollen thunder thighs and let the lower crest of her overfed belly pooch out. Amara was in a thong and a tank top, both of which were snug, belly and hip fat pooching over the tight purple underwear.

Every day for three weeks, the Siren had walked about a thousand steps in total and frequently ate ten times that many calories. An idiot could have predicted the result: Amara's perfect muscles had gone completely to pot. From head to toe there wasn't a hint of muscle tone, the dark skinned woman looking soft as stove warmed butter. She was nowhere as bulbous as Lilith or Moze or even Moxxi herself, but Amara had gone from jacked and threatening to out of shape and cuddly.

Instead of jacked runner's legs she had the squishy stems of a sedentary office worker. Instead of the ripped six pack she'd boasted she had a bigger than starter pooch cresting over her too tight underwear. And instead of her proud arm muscles, she had soft, slightly thick arms. Still an attractive woman even by a skinny chaser's measure: she was tall, with a gorgeous face and shapely curves, having grown womanly hips and shot up to a DD cup in record time. But she looked like she needed some gym time and as for her tough, go getter personality...

"Oh its true, I'm turning into a fat lump of lard...," Amara cried onto Moxxi's shoulder for teh twentieth time that night.

"Don't worry Sugar, its all temporary. I'm sure that once this is over, you'll be thin again. Why you just have to charge up that vault fragment and you'll be back to normal," Moxxi smiled, making the sensitive Siren stop sobbing for once.

"You're r-right," Amara hiccuped, "I'll be...t-thin and b-buff again..."

"Oh you won't be buff, Sug. You lost all your muscles and will have to earn em back," Moxxi reminded, pinching a bicep and finding only a slight firmness beneath the fat layer, "you'll just be a skinny girl with a fat girl's appetites..."

"Oh Gods no," the Partali woman sobbed, falling onto her seat and curling up, exposing the pillowy, beginning to droop bulge of her no longer high and tight rear end.

"Why don't you get some ice cream so you can eat those emotions," Moxxi said with a hidden grin.

"B-but I already used up my s-steps for today," the once independent woman stammered with more crying.

Moxxi slid off of the couch lazily, having to press herself up with her hands. Maybe it was wrong to constantly add and remove reproductive aid hormones to Amara's staggering food intake, hormones that were making the tough Siren swirl through an emotional maelstrom of soppy, needy sensitivity as they surged through her system in unpredictable fashion. But if Amara didn't want that, she shouldn't have dosed Moxxi up enough to give her a shelf of an ass.

"I'll get it for you, even though its a long way away and I'm so sore from working out," Moxxi said, as if she was being deeply put out.

"Thank you Moxxi," the crying Siren wept, "I don't know how to repay you..."

"Oh I can think of a few ways," Moxxi smiled.

The once merely curvy seductress sashayed away. She felt the crying woman's eyes on her own giant hip wobble and put an extra bounce into her ass cliff for the effort. Flushed with hormones as she was, Amara was easy to manipulate with sex, food or words. The slightest negative remark could send her into a weeping fit and the slightest positivity would make her impossibly clingy. For the once self confident woman it was as drastic a change as her weight gain, still a relatively minor thirty pounds or so once the lost muscle weight and gained fat were evened out.

Moxxi promised herself she'd taper off the hormones soon, before any major health damage could occur. Just enough to leave the once tough woman a bit more sensitive to others.

Her own weight loss attempts weren't going well, in three weeks she hadn't lost a solitary pound. Replacing all of her own altered food with diet versions didn't fix her fat girl appetite. Moxxi had had several involuntary cheat days where she'd woken up and splurged on a 2K calorie breakfast and an almost equal brunch before remembering she was dieting. And getting muscle tone back was miserable, the harsh exercise bike's seat painful for her gigantic buns and the chafing from the treadmill to painful to bear.

Especially with a newly slenderfied Maya exercising like mad nearby. The blue haired depowered Siren was turning her once portly body into an emblem of fitness that could accompany her fiance Krieg in the field without powers. It made the obese Moxxi feel like shit, but fortunately she had someone to take it out on.

"So Sugar, which quart do you want?" Moxxi asked as she got to the digistructor, "Mint Chip or Double Fudge?"

"I, I c-can't choose," the moist eyed Amara whined, "I like both so much...I can't p-pick just o-one."

"No Sugar, I mean which one first?" 

Day 41 of Amara’s Gain

Amara fidgeted, fingers running at the cuffs of her size L gray hooded sweatshirt, while her guest set up her medical station in Amara’s room. The Siren hadn’t even gone within ten feet of the outer door since the feeding program had begun and having someone in here besides Lilith, Moze or Moxxi was setting her on edge, the break in the Siren’s routine having made her feel unusually anxious. Her girlfriends, her former feedees turned feeders, were predictable by this point, each spending a day feeding, waiting on and by turns coddling and teasing her growing body.


But someone else, Amara found herself guessing at what might happen and that was making her breathe harder, a cold sweat coming to her forehead. It didn’t help that she’d had to fast that morning, her stomach was growling like a caged Tiger for its first and second breakfasts and she felt unsettled not being high. The introduction of marijuana and other minor narcotics in her food help take the edge off Amara’s unstable mood and she was finding herself ever more hormonal and shaky without them.


“All ready and ship shape! Yes Tim, I know you’re not the shape of a ship but still,” Tannis sighed at the scale she’d just set up, the mad woman talking to the medical device like it was a person, “Yes she has to stand on you! You’re a scale Tim, it's what you’re built for. Forgive him Amara, he’s grouchy. Onto the scale please, it's time to get this physical started up.”


The Siren bit her lip and took a step forwards, only for Tannis to raise a hand immediately, “Oh not like that, we need a very accurate reading. Clothes off please.”


“Off? Can’t I do it like this,” Amara smiled nervously, gesturing at her body.


She was clad head to toe in grey sweats, freshly printed workout gear that never had and never would see use. It should have been baggy on her but was for some reason tighter than it should have been. Of course Amara wasn’t to know that Moxxi, motivated by spite, had sabotaged the clothing digistructor in Amara’s quarters to print everything out a size too small just to drive home her fattener’s humiliation. The slightly snug grey fabric was a startling change from Amara’s workout punk attire, for one she had sleeves, the Siren no longer feeling enough pride in her arms to show them off.


“No, I’m afraid that won’t do. Tim is very sensitive and I need an exact reading to measure your gain. You may need medication after all,” Tannis smiled, showing dimples, “once we start going to seed our health is the first thing to go! I myself have an elevated glucose level.”


The scientist’s imaginary relationship with a very real soft serve dispenser was rapidly blowing her up. Her angular face was getting round and chubby, with a wobbling chin and her belly had a heavy dairy bloat combined with a thickening layer of fat. Tannis hadn’t up sized her clothes, stuffing herself into her same tan pants, the button straining above an opened zipper her lower stomach pooched out of while a flabby muffin top jiggled above it. Her thigh seams had blown out, pale fat bulging out to close her thigh gap. Amara would have normally been turned on by the sight, but she was too embarrassed of her own changing body to even notice the...thinner woman’s transformation. 
“It can’t be t-that m-much,” Amara whined, feeling her already anxious mood spiral out, her lower lip trembling.


Internally she recoiled at the cowardly words. What was wrong with her lately? It seemed she blubbered over the smallest thing and let everyone push her around. She had to get this under control, remind everyone that she was still a badass, still the toughest woman in the galaxy!
“I think that I’ll keep them on, my physical won’t need me to be nude,” she started to say, proud of herself for not wavering only to let out a high squeal asTannis’ cold hands pinched her belly, “AAaaahh! What are you d-doing?”


“You might say you want to come out but this fat tummy has been hanging out of your shirt this whole time, just begging to be freed,” Tannis exclaimed, pale fingers digging into the soft brown skin of Amara’s gut, “So clothes off now!”


Amara’s resolve crumbled. She winced at the small reprieve and began tugging the hoodie off, her arms complaining at the effort. It came off with a plop, the Siren’s considerable gut bouncing into fully view. Wincing at the rolls that formed across its surface, she pulled down her pants as well, thighs brushing together and then looked past her gut to her still half visible feet. Awkwardly, sore legs complaining she pulled them off, finding herself almost falling as her atrophied muscles fought for balance one legged. It was probably a good thing she hadn’t worn underwear that morning...


“There’s a good girl!” An ecstatic Tannis said as Amara stepped onto the scale, it's ancient analog dial immediately zipping upward, “easy there Tim! You just met her!”


Amara ignored the scientist, seeing the display shoot past her old highest weight of 170lbs, the effort of weeks of lifting and a careful diet, and into the 200s. As it slowed to 224 lbs, she almost fainted, leaning forwards onto the display for support. Surely she couldn’t have gotten that big already... Tannis swatted the scale for some reason and began pulling out a cruel series of calipers and a small handheld device.


“I need to record my thoughts if you don’t mind,” Tannis hummed, “Patient is at 224 lbs, having added fifty four pounds in just thirty nine days for a rate of 1.38 pounds per day. Am beginning a visual exam: note the puffy bloated face indicative of mild drug use. A slack, jiggling belly starting to hang over itself and heavy with stretch marks, signs of frequent over consumption of carbohydrates and rapid weight gain. The heavy breasts with the large, dark areola, usually indicative of several children. The wide, sagging buttocks, thick distribution of cellulite and lack of waist taper. The start of a mid back roll. A complete lack of thigh gap and bulge of fat over the knee. All signs of physical laziness and over consumption of high calorie, high fat, high sugar foods. Now,  previously the patient was in the top 1% of human athleticism but now lacks any visible muscle tone. She is indeed, positively bulging with fat at every joint. Patient, on a scale of one to ten with ten being the highest, such as winning the lottery and Galatic Olympics on the same day, and one being the lowest, such as your family dog eating your grandmother and choking on her bones, please rate your mood.”

“A t-two,” Amara blinked.

“Hmm, patient reports low mood as is typical of the obese. But the examination needs to continue. The abundant body fat could be hiding significant reserves of muscle, it would indeed be very odd for her to not have muscle under her bulk considering her former physique. Patient, please flex your bicep,” Tannis ordered, “yes, flex it please.”

“I...I am flexing,” Amara whined, looking at what should be a magnificent bicep.

Her upper arm was bulging alright, with fat instead of muscle and all in the wrong direction. Positively jiggling with it along her tricep and despite flexing as hard as she could, Amara was only making her arm fat jiggle. Tannis poked it, her finger sinking deep into the tricep lard.

“Hmm, beginning caliper exams on the bicep, tricep, breast, belly and thigh,” Tannis began, pinching all along Amara’s body to several sharp yelps, “calculations are complete. Patient has a body fat percentage of 33% and a very low muscle percentage for a woman her age. It is as if she has never worked out at all! Her genetics must be primed for gaining and maintaining body fat. But this is not surprising as she is obese.”

“O-obese? D-did you s-say o-obese?” Amara stammered, a stutter apparent in her words.

“Only mildly,” Tannis said with a hand wave, “but you are by both body fat percentage and BMI obese.”

“B-b-but a m-mm-month ago I w-was,” the Siren blinked, tears welling in her eyes, “I w-was so so f-F-fit…”

“Note, Patient is demonstrating high emotional volatility shown by the liquids welling from her eyes and moaning sounds coming from her mouth hole. Accordingly, I will need to practice emotional coddling,” Tannis said into her recorder and then pinching Amara’s cheeks, “there there. You were very very fit but now you’re just a little itty bitty bit obese. Only two hundred and seventy six pounds to go though, alright?”

Amara sobbed harder, the crying making her breasts bounce and jiggle.

“Note, subject is too volatile for reason to work. I will have to rush through the rest of the examination before I am cried on,” Tannis said, pulling a small combination medical device and syringe from her bag.

The chubby Doctor prowled around the obese Siren and jabbed the small needle right into her buttocks, making Amara howl. Tannis pulled the hypodermic free, popped it into a sharps box and began reading the portal blood test on its side with widening eyes.

“My my my, these results are not good. Well, they are good as it means that your diet is working well for our goals of saving this galaxy of horrible meat people, useful ruins and handsome, dashing ice cream stands,” Tannis said, “but it's bad for you.”

“W-what?” The emotionally volatile Amara stammered.

“Well, several little things like your glucose and cholesterol and blood pressure are not at a good place. It seems that eating, oh let’s access your digistructor and see,” Tannis said, walking over towards the sleek digistructor in Amara’s kitchen, tapping in a few commands to access a menu, “Wow, eleven thousand mostly empty calories a day. Well, that’s made you very unhealthy. I will guess the patient is having unusual tiredness and dizzy spells on exerting, if they exert themselves at any point. To say nothing of the hormonal additives, your endocrine system is quite thoroughly convinced you're about six months pregnant. According to this you'll begin lactating in about two weeks, but I'd say you might start leaking sooner going by size and distortion of your nipples."

The lunatic Doctor flicked a heavy tan breast, finding the tissue an over firm and swollen E cup ready to pop up to an F.

"Did you say L-lactating?" The Tiger of Partalli, terror of criminals everywhere gasped, "like...like a ...

"Like a mammal!" Tannis finished, "Oh yes, at least one of you idiotic cretins knows what animal kingdom produces milk! Yes, you'll start milking like a mammal very soon. And need to increase your caloric uptake to deal with the loss, which will only magnify your budding health problems and we can’t have our sole Siren in poor health can we?”

“D-does that mean I can stop this d-diet?” Amara sniffed, tears fading away.

“No, that means it's time for some medication. We’ll use some injected nanites for now, they’ll get everything up to a healthy level for the next thirty pounds or so. Then we’ll have to up your dosage,” Tannis smiled going over to her medical bag and pulling out another syringe, “which means we’ll be doing this every...twenty one days. For now, I expect your gain to accelerate!”

 

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Scenes of a Siren going to Seed, 4/4

Day 51 of Amara's Gain

"Yo yo, so check this chickas, you get to the bottom of the stairs and your jeepers peepers see a great big pile of bling! I'm talking golden coins, I'm talking diamond necklaces, I'm talking armor and I'm talking guns! Enough mother fucking loot to liposuction your fatass momma down to just planet sized!" The leader of this game of Bunkers and Badasses whooped, taking a long, long shot of hyper sugar soda, "what are you gonna do!"

The Bunker Master was a rather odd looking young woman of twenty. She had a pair of fuzzy bunny ears sat atop her messy blonde hair and a bandaid permanently slapped across the bridge of her nose, while her clothes were an eclectic skavenged mix of shorts and cut offs. She was also rail skinny, her clavicle visible,  cheek bones hollow and arms skinny, looking to be about a hundred pounds soaking wet, half her weight in junk food piled in front of her.

"I'm gonna get some fucking loot is what I'm going to do!" Moze clapped at her end of the big table her beefy arms at her end of the table, "so I go forwards and-"

"ugh, you're just walking forwards?" Lilith raspy voice squeaked, "obviously there's a trap. Roll a perception."

"Hey don't play my character!" Moze shot back, "I'm a star barbarian, I go forwards without any fucking fear! Amara, back me up here!"

Lilith rolled her now mud brown eyes and crossed her fat arms over her flat chest, no longer needing a bra at all, "It's obviously a trap, right Amara?"

"Wow wow big mommas, I didn't say nothing about no trap!" not so Tiny Tina insisted from the BM screen, "I just said there was big pile of bling. Right, big brown beluga?"

The Partali woman figuratively shrank under the attention of the others, pillowy shoulders bending forwards as she tried to hide inside herself. Her purple blue eyes darted towards a five gallon bucket of spicy candies and she quickly darted her left hand into it and shoved a plump fistful of the chewy, sugar goodness into her mouth. Chipmunk cheeks bulged and she gave a noncommittal "Mumf" while shrugging rather than venture a word either way.

Lilith's Bunkers and Badasses Game, an excuse by Amara to fatten up the ex-siren had fallen by the wayside when the tables had turned. But Lilith had put out a call for allies, leading to the arrival of many other vault hunters such as the rail skinny explosives expert. Tina's slang might be bizarre but she was as nerdy as they came and she insisted on starting up another game. Lilith had offered up her quarters, as well as its ten by ten by ten table that could hold the game's board, mini figures and a feast of snacks, while letting each player recline on a cushiony chez. 

It had taken quite a bit of effort to persuade Amara to come by. In her buffest jock days the Siren had been an avid player, but such was her shame over her figure that she'd had a panic attack just being asked. It had taken quite a bit of persuading and a promise that no one would see her in the hallway on her mobility scooter to persuade the now timid Siren to play. She'd barely spoken beyond announcing her character class the whole night, having spent most of it gorging.

"So, I'm fucking going forwards," Moze smiled, leaning over the table, massive breasts pushing into the pile of snacks in front of her as she grabbed her miniature.

It was a three person party, made up of miniatures taken from Lilith's massive and painstakingly painted army of table top miniatures. Moze was the Starbarian, represented by a thin, busty redhead with a battle axe and a chainmail thong. Lilith was the Elven Rogue, on the table as a thin, busty, red headed woman in skin tight leather armor. Amara was the Siren, represented by a thin, busty redhead in a dress who's neckline went to her naval. In her days as a four hundred pound, impoverished nerd, Lilith had had a very clear idea on what she'd wanted to look like if by some miracle she'd suddenly been transformed into her ideal image.

Moze plunked the miniature onto a square marked with treasure, making Tina whoop, Lilith sigh and Amara eat more.

"Whoop whoop whoop! Whip out dem  big double-D-twen-dee-siders and make 'em bounce and go click-clack! Everybody make a re-re-reflex save!" Tina ordered, emptying her soda and throwing it over her shoulder to shatter in a growing pile of glass before belching.

"I *puff* told you," Lilith wheezed, the asthmatic drawing onto her inhaler.

"ugh, fuck, fine," Moze said with an eye roll. 

Three twenty sided die clicked in dice trays.

"Shit. Four on the die, plus two from class and four from Dexterity for a ten" Lilith reported exactingly.

"Oh yeah, Seventeen!" Moze whopped, pumping her chubby arms into the air.

Across from, a frown crossed Lilith's splotchy face and she stared through her 20/120 specs at the natural ten Moze had rolled.

"No way you got a twenty six!" Lilith's raspy voice came out, "We're level one, a Starbarian should have a +1 to Reflex. What's your Dex modifier?"

"+5, what's yours?" The top heavy gunner said, taking a sip of beer and snorting.

"Why would you, you're a Starbarian! A close range melee class! You shouldn't have more than a +2 modifier for Dex, everything else is a waste! That's a huge, *puff* a huge waste of points!" The obese nerdette huffed and puffed, "and you're...wait, what armor do you have?"

"Full plate, duh! That way no one can hit me!" Moze boasted.

"Full plate negates your Dex bonus," Lilith said, "You have a twelve."

"Fuck!" Moze grunted, shoving a handful of chips into her mouth.

At the far end of the table, Amara swallowed and looked up from her natural two, towards the skinny BM, whispering, "S-s-s-six."

"Hold up, hold up, what was dat my big brown breakfast buffet?" Tina asked.

Sweat broke out over Amara's broadening forehead, as everyone turned towards her, "S-s-ssss-ssss-sssss-six."

S' were becoming increasingly problematic for the once confident woman, her obesity hammering her self image so hard 1/26th of the vocabulary was becoming a no go zone.

"Ohhh, well well, it's looking like my self taught math class cause everybody is mother fucking failing!" Tiny said, picking up three D6s and dropping them into her dice tray with a cackle, "close them eyes, pucker them buttholes and pull out them back up character sheets cause every body is about to die in here! As my last girlfriend said, there has to be some magic in them fingers, that's three sixes or as we call it in math nineteen points of damage!"

The players all winced.

"Fuck, I'm fucking dying, God damn it," Moze grunted.

"I'm permanently dead in two *puff* rounds," Lilith said, "unless anyone else survived."

Amara adjusted herself in her seat, tugging her hoodie down over her cinnamon belly...where it immediately rode back up over her pierced navel.

"I can maybe h-help," Amara said quietly, "my cla-ssssss can re-ss...come back to life if I roll a will s-s-save."

Inwardly she seethed that so many words had S in it, but the stuttering Siren outwardly shoved yet more candy and chips into her mouth. Everyone else whooped, cheering her on and encouraging her, making sweat pour off of her body as the pressure rose and rose. Greasy fingers picked up her D20 and got ready to roll it...but the dice popped out of her fingers!

The polyhedron spun across Lilith's palatial captain's quarters, coming to a rest on the other side of the room.

"Live die flying, wut wut! House rule, take the number as it is bitches!" Tina declared, opening yet another bottle of pop.

Amara sheepishly rolled off the couch, aware just how tightly her sausage thighs were pressing against each other and how what should be baggy sweats were revealingly snug. She tugged up the transparently tight back of her pants, thong clearly outlined, and waddled over to the die, which gradually disappeared under the dome of her gut. Grimacing, Amara bent down and fumbled for the dice.

Less than two months earlier the Partali woman had been a fast moving terror on the battlefield. Agile and flexible, she'd dashed across the fight and dexterously punched her enemies apart. But now her lethargic knees complained at bending for so long, while her stiff back groaned under the pull of her gut and chest. Clumsy fingers couldn't find anything and Amara felt her face blush further as she fumbled for the die.

The rip of her pants tearing apart was so expected Amara did'n't even squeal. The others starred at her cinnamon brown cheeks, flapping in the breeze as she kept going for the dice. Each pillow sized cheek was liberally spackled  with cellulite and covered in white striations of stretch marks where the blue spirals of her Siren tattoos hadn't spread. Sighing, she at last picked up the die with and groaned both from the effort of standing up on her hilariously weak body and the roll of her dice.

"O-one," the Siren shamefully admitted, waddling back to her seat and sniffing back tears.

Amara summoned her telekinetic arms, which remained insultingly ripped. They picked up her five gallon bucket of candy and began pouring it into her mouth, the Siren drowning her sorrows in high fructose corn syrup. She chewed with more vigor than she'd done anything in the last several weeks, trying to cover disapointment with food.

"Well well my big ladies, open up the toy chest and haul out the speak and spell,  Punch in a T! Punch in a P! And punch in a K! Because that is a Total Party Kill!" The BM yelled, "in five minutes! Call the book of galactic records because I am getting mother fucking good b**s!"

Moze and Lilith sighed in annoyance, while Amara broke into tears, "Gods I ruined the game and killed all your characters, you all must hate me!"

"Fuck, don't worry Amara. She does this every fucking time," Moze groaned, "I swear, every game we go through like five TPKs."

"Yeah, we just get to go on with a new condition from the veteran player deck," Lilith sighed as a giggling Tina pulled a deck of well thumbed cards out.

Amara blinked, "What, b-but I thought this was a n-new game..."

"Yeah, this pair of Badasses blitzed right through my last module and took down the great red cyborg wyrm with a big crit from a big dick great sword and a swarm of super magic machine gun missles!" Tina bragged, finishing yet another soda.

Amara looked at the massive pile of broken glass a maintenance robot was cleaning up behind Tina and compared it to the demolition experts ultra skinny body. A smal part of her old, feeder self had been adding up calories going into the skinny twenty year old and expecting that the blonde would balloon within a week at her current rate...

"H-how long has-s this-s game been going on?" Amara asked.

"Uh, bout fifty days, since the big bellied ex-red here signed me up to blast apart some bandits!" Tina bragged, "the red rouge Crimson raiders used to have this super buff badass siren chick to kick butt but she's all locked-chained-holed up on a super secret hidden mission."

"T-that's me," Amara admitted.

"Holy shit mother fuckers, how come nobody ever told me Siren powers happen to great big bumpity plump girls?" Tina asked in surprise.

"I d-didn't used to be ...wait how are you s-s-ssss-sssso," Amara tried to ask.

"Skinny? Pandoran metabolism baby! I eat whatever I fucking wanna eat because ain't no calories with balls big enough to stick to this flippity-flat booty!" Tina said, slapping her flat ass, "Unless I defy dem odds, and don't cut the wrong wire and go bippity-bang-bang-boom before I hit twenty three, then I hit the middle age spread and get as fat-fat-fo-fat as you!"

Amara' face fell, realizing that she was the go to fat girl in the room. Tina dealt out a card, face down to everyone.

"Alright my big bulging babes, four cards go out and only one gets read, we're in orbit over Eden VI so that means the heaviest girl at the table reads," the Bunker Master ordered, "I'm 100 flat, so who can beat that!"

"Two thirty nine," Lilith admitted with a puff of inhaler.

"Two thirty five," the short stack mercenary admitted, "my diet is uh, tomorrow."

Every eye turned towards Amara, who wished she was actually shrinking under their gaze. She gulped and picked up her card, "T-ttt-two hundred forty two."

"Dayum, someone's a big bitch," Tina said, "read em baby!"

That she was the fattest woman in the room, in less than two months going from super fit to fatter than her feedees hit Amara so hard she stared at the card for a full minute before she could read the card.

"Go t-topless," Amara read slowly, "Either all characters lose their armor bonus or all players...all p-players g-go t-t-topless by initiative order."

"Well, I'm first then and I'm keeping my fucking full plate," Moze said, tugging off her tight white shirt.

The gunner's ever increasing torso was almost totally exposed. Feeding Amara for so long every day had barely blunted her gain and she was getting quite the beer belly anymore, a crease starting to form, but each eye was on her spectacular cleavage. She'd puffed up into the I cup range even when emptied, pale fat bulging out of her ridiculous armored bra. Armpit fat flowed over the band, Australian cleavage hung out of the bottom and a mushroom of fat hung over her cups. With a flick of her fingers on the front clasp, the overburdened blue fabric gave way and the spectacular saggers poured out,  droopy tear drops draping across her gut.

"Dayum girl, someone's going half way to the floor!" Tina said.

"Breast feeding's really making me sag," Moze said, lifting up one tea saucer areola, "and the stretch marks are really coming in because of the swelling. You're next Lil."

"Fine, I'm not losing that studded leather bonus," Lilith sighed, standing up with a grunt, "Not like there's much to see there anyway."

The commander's immense keg gut immediately rested on the table while Lilith's weak arms tugged at her shirt. Lilith's apron gut was in a phase of explosive growth, it's doubled bulk bouncing up and down as she tugged the shirt over her head. At some point she'd pierced her deep belly button, a diamond stud glinting amid the stretch marks around her navel. Her breasts on the other hand were small handfuls, half the size of her once pert DDs she didn't bother wearing a bra.

"Alright, you're up Amara," Lilith said.

The obese siren swallowed in fear, cursing her foul luck and peeling off her hoody. Her arms moved stiffly, the delectably soft bulge of her bloated belly slowly coming into view. Like Lilith's, the fat woman's gut rested on the table, brown sugar lard spreading onto the wood. It wasn't quite as big as the belly focused Lilith's gain, but the Partali woman's stretch marked gut was taking up plenty of calories. Her carb heavy diet had piled fat on layer by layer, while a newly discovered lactose intolerance left her permanently bloated. The well marbled ball of fat spread and jiggled, knocking over her candy bucket and chip bowl as Amara's weak arms struggled to get the hoodie off her head. Love handles thicker than bread loaves hung over her sweat pants, bouncing up and down with her tugs with an almost hypnotic wobble. and she was breathing hard when it finally came off.

"T-there," Amara huffed.

"Whoa whoa, hold them big titty horses," Tina said, "topless means no boob covers on! And with big titties like that, why you stuffing yourself with tissues?"

Amara blushed, looking down at her sore, swollen F cups. Her siren tattoos were covering her breasts, but the sight of glowing blue energy marks coudn't detract from the wad of tissue paper in each cup. Lilith, the closest to the ballooning, hormonal Siren caught a faint whiff of dairy that had nothing to do with the milkshakes she'd stuffed Amara with that afternoon.

"I-I'm, well," Amara shrugged, "leaking..."

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Hitting Bedrock... 1/2

Strutting past admirers and photographers ooing and aahing at her perfect physique, Amara took a deep breath, looking down at a long barbell weighted down with five fifty pound weights per side.

The Siren blew her narrow cheeks out, popped her knuckles against her callused palms and gave her long, muscular body a once over in the mirror. Every perfect brown curve was there beneath her glowing blue tattoos, harder than tritanium abs, python thick biceps and sculpted thigh muscles glistening with the sweat of a light two hour session.  She flexed her abs and tight glutes, both completely displayed by the tiny sports thong she wore, and twitched her hard pecks, making the high C cups they supported bounce. Here excellent diet and exercise regime were really paying off, boosting her to over two hundred pounds of muscle putting the Siren into the best shape of her life. The Tiger gave herself a ferocious smile and went back to her weight, dipping down and grabbing hold of the iron bar.

With a roar, Amara bent, grabbed the bar and snatched it high into the air, exploding upwards until the weight hung over her head.

"Five hundred pounds? Pshaw, this isn't even a challenge!" the Tiger roared, tossing the weight to the ground.

She laughed to see it bounce, pausing when something dripped onto her shoe. Amara looked down, eyes spreading wide to see milk gushing out of her bra...

Day 113 of Amara's Gain

With a partial lurch, Amara woke up on her couch.

The lurch was only partial because no matter the shock of her dream, the brown Siren didn't have the muscle mass to spring three hundred and fifty three pounds up. Her bloated upper body came a few inches off of her permanent indent before a cramp hit the thin layer of ab muscle under her belly fat, making her slump back down. It took a moment for the night mare of the last hundred days to really come into focus, in the meantime she touched the fat roll several inches about her complaining abs and found the front of her body soaked and not with sweat.

"No, no I was fit again and...damn it," Amara groaned, "I'm leaking again."

A swollen F cup and an even more distended G breast sat near straight out from her chest, milk steadily dribbling out of their cracked and red nipples. Amara wasn't slothful enough to lay in her own dairy product yet, her fingers fumbled around for her pump but she recognized it over by the sink. With a grunt she tried rocking to her feet, snarling with effort and frustration as it took a second try for her to fully stand, angling her belly to pull herself forwards.

Her lowest stomach pulled her forwards before coming to rest on the coffee table, the second roll plopping onto the wood with a soft "click" as her pierced naval struck it. An empty six pack of beer, the only six pack she'd seen in months, was knocked over and an uncapped bottle of anti-acid used to treat her chronic indigestion fell over too, spilling pink goop onto her latest dead B&B character. Amara felt cold shoot through her usually over heated body, as well as chips and cheese puffs being crushed to powder and bowls and cups being spilled, but the majority of her ass was off of the couch. Only the flabbiest, lowest flap of it, the part that was merged with her thighs, was still touching the abused fabric but she was sort of standing and with much of her weight supported by furniture.

"Standing up shouldn't be this goddamn hard," she wheezed, taking as deep a breath as she could and then stood upwards.

Her knees popped loudly as the full weight of her belly and glutes fell onto them, making Amara wince. She gave a little yelp as she had to pull her gut off of the table and it pulled fully on her ever sore back, slapping against her thighs. Another little squirt oozed out of her nipples at the motion, making Amara grunt again as it landed in a perfectly good half eaten cake that had been untouched when she'd passed out. A quick touch of her tongue to her lips found a ring of chocolate, evidence her summoned arms had been sleep feeding again.

"You could at least do it when I'm awake," she glared at her tattoos, "I don't even get to enjoy what you're doing, you perverts!"

While Amara's body had been surging out to more than double in size, her siren tats had been shrinking. At the start of her diet, the blue energy veins had been a swirl of lines had expanded onto the left side of her body, stretching from wrist to wrist and down to her powerful calves. There was little research done on Siren tattoos but Tannis had found the tattoos grew in size and brightness the more self confident their bearer, shrinking when they were depressed and despondent. Now the mystical tattoos didn't go past her left shoulder, having retracted from her most of her body. When she'd been fit the swirls had glowed bright enough to read by but now they were dull, seeming like regular tattoos most of the time. As a vault hunter, she'd summoned burst attacks a hundred times a day and swung her psychic arms many times that to drive home murderous punches. Now it had been weeks since she'd consciously summoned them, having been unable to actually bring them into being after her 18th natural 1 in a row at Bunkers and Badasses had resulted in her having to play naked from now on and serve as Tina's chair. Amara was actually afraid to even try summoning them, although anytime she passed out around food her girlfriends informed her that the arms would pop into being to begin feeding, massaging and masturbating her.

She waddled towards her pump, thigh rolls slapping together with each slow step. Although she couldn't see her legs without a mirror due to her belly, the morbidly obese woman had been reassured by all of her girlfriends that her perfectly muscled legs were immensely bloated. Moze had been domineeringly teasing, Lilith completely complimentary and Moxxi had teased her until she cried but they all agreed. Her thighs had split into various rolls that hung over her knees, while her cankles were fat enough they'd eventually rest on her actual feet if not the floor. Her spider veins were growing out of control, pale blue against her skin, she had a horrible case of cellulite covering the entire back of her legs.

Usually Amara used a mobility scooter for any trip, but she'd left it by the couch that day, her frazzled attention span not taking into account how hard moving her lax body was. Just as her feeders, all uncharacteristically busy that day, had left her alone for a few hours, without anyone to feed, reassure or touch the sensitive woman.

"What the hell were they thinking, leaving my pump over here? Don't they care about me at all?" Amara sniffed, tears dripping down her face, "Ugh, pull it together. You're the Tiger, you're a bad ass, you're not going to cry because your feeders left your breast pump a hundred feet away! Oww, I forgot my nursing cream...*sniff" why does it hurt so much?"

With a hum the pump started draining her, the Siren hooking the hose into a large glass bottle that sat washed and ready by the fridge. Creamy milk shot into it, rapidly filling it even as her swollen right titty started deflating. Amara had to shift, holding it up as she went from borderline H to just C, falling from anti-gravity firm to resting pancake like against her chest as she pumped milk out of it. Her nipple hurt but the rest of her sore breast stopped screaming and her sore lower back didn't protest quite as much. She pulled the pump off with a whimper and started pumping the left side, which slowly deflated to a mere D.

"Fuck, damn it not again, what the fuck is wrong with today?" the lactating siren whined as the bottle overflowed, "Its like the whole world is out to get me!"

It hadn't helped Amara's self esteem to find out that she was a galactic record milker. She pumped out a truly bovine gallon and a half per day, not counting what leaked out between sessions, and could hold 19 oz in her right breast and 22 oz in her left. Almost all of her breast growth was illusory, when emptied she was only a little bit bigger in the bust than she had been when at 12% body fat but now her breasts now sagged like a forty year olds due to the constant stretching during the day when emptied.

She gently patted the drooping dugs, knowing that they'd soon fill up again. Sighing Amara capped the bottle and put it in the fridge, pulling out a chilled and grunting at the weight of the 32 oz jug of her own breast milk. Using both hands she poured it into a blender, laboriously adding in a small jar of peanut butter, a pint of ice cream, eight ounces of chocolate syrup, collagen (for her joints) and several scoops of weight gain powder. A fat, clumsy finger fumbled for the blend button, the blender's hard edges poking the finger's swollen bulk as it began to churn. It was hard for her to hold the lid on and the vibrations made her whole naked body shake, from her fourth chin to the lunch lady flab under her arm to the deep rolls of fat that were her back boobs but she managed to keep the blender under control. Lifting the heavy glass up was hard, less about the weight and more about how the hard edges bit into her puffy hands, weight lifting calluses long faded. She saw the seventy ounce capacity printed on the side and had to bitterly suppress memories of using a curl bar that weighed 70 lbs two hundred times per day, and it almost spilled when she clunked it onto the counter.

"How am I going to carry something this heavy, so far?" she whimpered, the gulf from here to the couch stretching farther every moment, "Gah, gods of partali look at the pathetic cow I've become. I might as well have a pig's tail instead of a siren's tattoos, uhf, I'm so out pathetic. Drinking a weight gain shake of my own boob milk that's too heavy for me to pick up!"

She fumbled in a draw for a long twisty straw and plunged it into the blender, then pulled up two bar stools and rested her sixty three inch hips across them both, having broken too many chairs to trust just one. Amara had to prop herself up on her elbows to reach the straw, the previously 5'11 woman had lost four inches to joint compression and started sucking down the disgustingly rich drink. The worst part of it all was how good the milk shakes were, her lactation produced something richer than heavy whipping cream. They could have made a fortune in selling it, but the stuff was so suffused with quasi-legal dairy hormones, birth control and fertility drugs it would never be deemed safe for human consumption.

"After all, anyone who drank this would start gushing like a firehydrant!" the Siren groused, sucking the cold shake down greedily, "and they'd get awful fat awful quick! Sure is great I'm the only one in the galaxy who can drink this!"

The problem in the eyes of her girlfriends was that the gushing Siren's production was cutting into her ridiculous weight gain. Not enough to make her plateau given her eating habits but enough to make her slow. So Lilith had made a policy, Amara was to be milked three times a day and had to drink her own milk in weight gain shakes.

"I could have said no of course, but I was too much of a little bitch, wasn't I?" Amara lectured herself, "I just bobbed my head like a little kitty kat and purred when they rubbed my sore tummy, ugh I'm so disgusting. I can barely get up, I eat all the time, I'm grotesque...I can't...*uhmmmm*...I can't stop...."

Amara shoved one puffing hand through the tight, warm folds of her lower belly, seeking her gushing clit among the swollen bulges. Finding it was hard edespite the pleasure, the fatty landscape was constantly increasing making it hard to memorize but Amara groaned again when her chubby fingers finally struck her joy spot. She fondled and giggled, wishing her boobs weren't too sore to touch and started panting, her own humiliation pushing her half way to the edge already. Her eyes rolled back despite the burn in her arms and her mouth hung open.

"I'm such a pervert, I'm sitting here masturbating to my own patheticness. Come on you fat fuck, touch yourself before you get too fat to even do that! Remember back when people formed lines to see if you would fuck them? Now you're so damn big no one but your fat nerd girlfriends will touch you!," she insulted herself, each dig biting deep, "I bet  *gasp* I bet you can't even do a push up!"

A knock came at her door, odd. Because neither Lilith, Moxxi or Moze ever bothered to knock.

"COME ON!" she gasped, a faint spasm shooting through her chubby torso.

"Hi Amara, long time no...see," the blue haired ex siren blinked, seeing a tan woman positively swollen with fat masturbating while drinking a milkshake, "Uh, should I come back?"

Amara always ready to cry, started sobbing as she came.

 

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39 minutes ago, >_< 0_0 said:

Seeing Amara in such a low state hurts a part of me deep inside 😔 I miss her confidence... but then I remember how she manipulated the crew and remind myself that she had it coming. Also, her body’s epic

Yeah, this is her second act low point...almost. She's got to dig just a little bit deeper first.

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Hitting Bedrock 2/2

 

"Do...do you think I could have some more cookies?" the light brown lump pleaded, chipmunk cheeks bulging with cookie crumbs.

Maya blinked, not able to fully believe what her blue eyes were showing her. A few months had turned the confident Siren, all shining muscle and cocky grin, into a ball of cowardly, embarrassed lard. She'd thought the hyper fit woman had needed taken down a peg or two, perhaps to not focus on the ephemereal physical and instead enjoy the good things in life, to build deeper relationships, Maya hadn't expected this: a three hundred and fifty pound blob spread across two bar stools and pouring out of a bathrobe.

"Do you really want more cookies?" the former Siren asked, amazed that the woman who'd almost vomited from eating cookie dough had ravenously downed an entire platter of chocolate chip cookies.

"...Yeah," Amara sniffed, "I'm just...really embarrassed. And eating helps."

"I...let me rephrase, do you really need more cookies?" Maya questioned, "You're rather..."

"Big," the hoggish Partali woman said, "I'm...a big girl..."

Given that Maya had walked in on Amara sloppily masturbating while crying about how fat she was, the ex-siren wasn't sure why the current mystical woman was unwilling to say the F word. Especially as she'd come for five full minutes while Amara had stared at her quivering bulk. But well...it was pretty clear to her that the Siren was not well. Her moon round, almost featureless face was more than just fat, it was swollen. Her eyes were red, her muscles seemed unhealthily weak, she was having trouble standing up but having trouble picking up her heavy second milk shake and she was breathing heavily through her mouth. She seemed listless and confused, almost drugged.

"and you, saw me...teasing myself and you're so ...skinny," Amara hiccuped.

Maya was in tight yellow lycra work out gear, showing lean limbs and a mostly flat stomach. She'd worked out hard the last few months, putting on a little muscle and becoming a capable soldier without her powers, but her stomach was a little soft, forming a tiny roll over her pants. Maya took a sip of the protein shake she'd made while whipping up the obese woman some cookies from the digistructor. The shake was beyond creamy and she wondered where Amara was even getting it or why she had so much milk in her fridge. How to handle this...

"Amara, I weighed three hundred pounds a few months ago. Remember? I was so fat I couldn't get into a car?" Maya asked.

"Ugh, don't remind me. That was back *hic* back when I thought I was a badass. Back when I was the Tiger, the vigilante siren heroine," the obese Siren sniffed, raising up a ham thick arm and shaking it rather than trying to flex, knowing nothing would happen, "now look at me...just a fat slob! I could barely make it across my living room today. I bet this time next year I'll be unable to even get off the couch."

"Amara," Maya said, putting a hand on her shoulder and finding it was like touching a pillow, "this is all temproary isn't it? You get to five hundred and you burn it all off at the next vault. We're kicking the CoV's ass across the galaxy, we just need to stop them getting to the vault on Eden VI and then..."

"And then the next one and the next one," Amara groaned, sucking more shake, "And even if we beat the CoV, I ...I don't know if I can...stop."

"Amara, do you want to look like this?" the blue haired woman asked.

"N-nno, I...I want to be strong again. I want to be fast. I want to feel dangerous," Amara sniffed, "but I'm afraid I'm ruined. I was so perfect and now I have to restart it all from scratch, all my muscle under this is gone and I...I don't think I can stop eating. Its automatic now, even if I was thin again I know I couldn't go back to not eating sweets, to laying about all day, to ...getting horny when I eat."

To hide her blush, the once perfect Siren looked down past breasts swelling back up again, at her stack of belly rolls. Weak, puffy fingers picked up her lower most roll, kneading the buttery spread, trying to remember what it was like to have steely abs.

"Amara, I...I know what its like to have a self gaining fetish," Maya giggled, "I didn't know until Krieg and I found how well baking therapy worked for him and I started putting on some weight, but I had a framed picture of the centerfold I did for Vault Hunter Magazine in my room. The one in the bikini? Well I was starting to get kinda chubby the first time and was still lying to myself that my pants were shrinking in the laundry and I looked up from this tummy that seemed so big at the time jiggling over my pants to see how skinny my stomach used to be. I felt a little humiliation and then ...boom. Gaining fetish activated, I've been putting a little weight on again recently because I enjoy it so much. I plan on getting heavy again after this war is over, although I'm going to try and stay fit."

Amara tried to cross her thighs, but was far too thick in the legs to really try, "I'm humiliated all the time now. Every time I try and get up, every time I walk, every time I can't stop eating, its like a slap in the face to every thing I used to be. I used to be afraid of fat covering up my muscle but now I don't even have muscle to cover up, I'm flab all the way to my bones. All of my girlfriends, the fattest girls I've ever slept with, they spend every minute they're here teasing and feeding me. Lilith coddles me, she keeps me high as a kite so I don't cry. Moze, god its constant teasing and feeding and getting stroked and fucked. If I wasn't getting that exercise I don't think I could walk. And Moxxi, its always cattiness, teasing me for being so soft."

Maya sighed, pulling a tissue from a box and dabbing tears from Amara's swollen face, "Amara have you ever heard of karma? Of getting what you earn?"

"What do you mean, earn?" the siren asked sadly, "I worked out all the time, I didn't earn being fat..."

"Amara, you were a feeder and you weren't very nice to your feedees," Maya told her, "its one thing to have a gaining fetish and indulging with it, but were you giving all three of them the attention they deserved? Were you connecting with any of them, or using them?"

"I...may not have been the best person," the obese siren admitted, "and now I'm useless. Look at me, I can't even fight anymore."

Maya patted her shoulder again, seeing jiggles go through 'Amara's body, making droplets of milk fall from her breasts.

"Well, I think there are two things to do here," Maya said, "the first, is I think you should work out with me a little..."

 

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