This choice: D: Let herself go. Gain some weight. Aw hell, gain a lot of weight. • Go Back...Chapter #9Vegas, obesity, and laying waste to cities. 'Murca by: RoyalJelly   "Okay," said Lara as she stepped off her motorcycle. "I've got a plan."
What's that? asked Libby.
"I'm gonna get so fat that I start to crush the city, and I'm not gonna stop fattening up until the denizens of Las Vegas bring Dave to me."
What.
"I said, I'm gonna--"
No, no, I heard you. I'm just really curious as to your thought process here.
"Look, I know that Dave is gonna turn me into a blow-up doll if he finds me. I'll have plenty of time to be conventionally hot. Right now, I want to become a blob monster. I'm curious. Sue me."
O...kay, said Libby. Lara toggled a few options, targeting her ass, gut, breasts and thighs. She handed the ray gun to Tiffany, who, with only some trepidation, fired it at her.
"Oh, and if you could send a message to the people of Vegas about what they need to do to save their city, I'd be much obliged," said Lara. She could feel a rumbling in her gut.
"Alright," said Libby and Tiffany in unison.
"Good. Now, step back. I'm about to release the chonk."
Lara strode forward while her underlings retreated. The process was already starting. She could feel a sated, sleepy feeling coming over her, like she had just ate the Thanksgiving meal of the gods. A swelling feeling began to fill her body as her body began to fill her clothes. In a momentary panic, Lara's hands flew to her belt buckle. Her waist was straining against the confines of her pants, the top of her belly starting to arc over her jeans like a loaf of bread rising from its pan. Her bra began to dig into her back as her breasts followed a similar course of action. She struggled with her belt as it constricted her swelling chub.
RIP
There went the ass of her jeans, followed by the legs. She could feel her enormous booty start to touch the ground behind her as her thighs began to rub up against some very sensitive places. Lara moaned softly, trying with renewed vigor to take off her belt. Her bra strap snapped open. Lara stared at the soft, jiggling expanse of cleavage beneath her, coupled with her round, strangled gut. She needed to breathe, and she needed to rub herself, and both of those things were rendered impossible by her apparently-mythic belt. In a moment of inspiration, she took a deep breath, jutting her belly outwards.
The snap of her belt resounded through the air like the cracking of a whip. The buckle of her belt and the button of her jeans rocketed away from her body, crashing through the windows of a car like bullets. Her gut sprang forward, exuberant in its freedom from the tyranny of pants. Lara tried to worm a hand under her swelling tummy, but to no avail.She moaned more desperately.
"Libby!" she whined, "Help me! I can't take this much more!"
Okay, let's speed this up.
Lara felt parts of her rocket off the ground as her body distended, her swollen form flooding outwards. She could feel cars begin to bend and break beneath her, their alarms muffled by yards of lard. The skyline of the city began to lower to meet her gaze. Behind her, she could feel a parking attendant's booth being crushed by her mountainous booty. Shock, fear, satiety and arousal mixed in Lara's mind. She could see her gut approaching a dingy pawn shop near by. People were exiting to see what the fuss was about, just as the edge of Lara's belly smashed through the nearest wall.
The smarter ones ran. The faster ones managed to escape.
Lara figured that this was as good a time as any to make her demands known.
"Citizens of Las Vegas!" she shouted, Libby's magic amplifying her voice and sending it into the mind of every person in the city. "My name is Lara Michaels, and I'm so fat that I just got hit by a bus and wondered if somebody threw a rock at me!" She guessed that last bit, at any rate. It could have been a car, but she knew that something metal just rammed the side of her leg. "I am looking for my husband, Dave! He's staying in a hotel somewhere in town, and I won't stop growing until you bring him to me!"
The ocean of Lara's breasts and gut crashed up against a nearby office building. The structure held against the onrush of flesh. She saw her growing chub begin to rise, higher and higher, against the building, before it arced over the roof. She could hear the creak of the steel girders in the building, then felt as the tower toppled forwards with a resounding thud. Her belly claimed the fallen building as its own, swelling over it and trapping it beneath her.
"And before you ask," shouted Lara as an afterthought, "Yes, this is a sex thing! Our bedroom life is kinkier than yours, deal with it. And bring me my husband before I crush you all! And maybe a few truckloads of Oreos! Mama's hungry!"
------------
Dave heard his wife's voice in her head. He sighed. She really couldn't do things the easy way. Silently, he stood up and walked out of his hotel room. He took the elevator to the ground floor.
"Excuse me, Mr. Michaels," said the concierge. Dave waved him off.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm on it," he droned. He walked out into the street. He walked for a couple blocks, walking against the tide of fleeing citizens, before stumbling upon his wife.
From this angle, Lara Michaels looked like a ten-story wall of flesh. Her colossal, shockingly-smooth gut towered above him, arcing outwards like...Dave thought for a moment. Like the belly of a woman who decided to blackmail a city into delivering her husband to him by fattening herself up to city-destroying proportions. Above him, he could see her enormous breasts heaving with each doubtlessly-aroused breath that she took. The wall of Lara's soft tummy was advancing towards him, grinding buildings and vehicles to dust beneath her, while gently engulfing any people to slow to escape. Libby was apparently telling the truth about not liking death.
"Lara!" he shouted, watching in mild horror as a woman laid down before his wife's monumental gut. As the city-smashing belly crept over her, she flashed Dave a smile and gave him a thumbs up, mouthing the words "good for you" as she vanished beneath the adipose flood. "Lara, you can stop! I give up. You found me." Lara's belly stopped growing. It stood before him, heaving obscenely.
"Dave!" squealed Lara's voice in his head. "I'm so glad you gave yourself up. I'm all riled up from turning myself into a blimp and crushing half of an American metropolis, and I can't quite seem to reach my vag. Once I win this round, I'll need you to crawl up under me and see if you can find it."
Dave shook his head. "You aren't winning this round, Lara."
"Oh? Why not? In case you last checked, hubby, I crushed half the city and I've got you at my mercy."
"The game isn't about property damage, Lara. The game is about who can hit a target. Last I checked, you're the biggest target in town, and I'm pretty sure that you can't see me over all that fat."
"Hey! It's not polite to comment on a woman's weight."
"Give it up Lara," said Dave, aiming his gun at his behemoth wife. He had selected something marginally more subtle than Lara's choice. "There's no way that you can shoot me."
"I suppose not..." sighed Lara, a dejected jiggle rippling across her body...  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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