Yor's Desperate Plan (Patreon)

Tags: Vore, Extreme Weight Gain, SpyxFamily

I don't do vore very often, hope you all enjoy though!

Yor Forger kicked at one of her assailants, trying to fend off one of the large women. Her leg muscles tensed, turning her leg from a thing of beauty into a killing tool. She whipped her leg around, turning on her foot. Yor’s long, black hair followed behind. Named the thorn princess, Yor was as beautiful as she was deadly. Under the mask of a loving and devoted housewife lay the instincts and training of a killer. Most would never assume how strong and quick she was, based on her unassuming appearance. She had banked on that surprise when her assailants had struck. Just about to enter her apartment, Yor was dressed in her green work skirt and white button up shirt. It was not as free flowing as her black assassin dress, but it would do. Her leg continued around on its deadly arc, landing home on one of the attacking women. The blow hit with enough force to kick up a large gust of wind. The floor shook as Yor’s leg lodged into the guard of her assailant. Yet, it only knocked the other woman back several feet. She slammed against the wall of the hallway. Another roundhouse kick from Yor only jiggled the other woman’s blubber. Yor jumped away in surprise, backing against the door to the apartment. She assessed her foes, seeing that they were more than simple goons.

In the country of Ostania few people were fat. Even the bakers and chefs were usually only somewhat portly. Yet, the two women attacking Yor were bulky and huge. They had taken the disguises of bakers, but obvious muscle rippled under their clothes. They were shock troops, guided missiles of mass and muscles to exterminate the thorn princess. The second attacker lunged forward with speed that belied her size. The floor thumped under her bulky stride, again sending noise through the normally quiet apartment complex. Yor blanched, worried about coming up with a convincing explanation for the noise later. She could deal with assassins, but the other tenants were another challenge entirely. The longer the fight went on, the more tempting it would be for someone to come to investigate it. Yor turned white as she thought about one of the kindly older women stepping out into the middle of the dangerous action. She had to hide what was happening. There was only one place she could hide. Yor braced against the door, hand fidgeting with the knob. The fat woman came forward still, now within striking distance.

The big woman, her hair red and flowing, aimed a fist at Yor’s face. Yor ducked under as she spun the doorknob and kicked the door open. The fat assailant tripped inwards, expecting at least the resistance of the door to be there when she landed. She landed on her gut, each bounce and thud into the room making her big ass jiggle. Yor studied the ripples, sensing the movement of the other woman from them. She plunged her leg backwards, feeling her small foot land in the center of the other woman’s gut. She felt the soft pudding of fat as well as corded muscle underneath. The woman did not balk, instead thrusting her gut forward. Yor was launched into the room. She flipped over the downed thug, her hands sinking into luscious pads of butt fat. Yor deftly avoided the table and the couch. She landed behind them, staring at her attackers. The red head was hauling her fat ass up whilst the other, a brunette with short and spiky hair, waddled into the apartment. She closed the door behind her. Yor could at least breathe a sigh of relief that the fight was away from the hallway. However, a new problem presented itself. 

The spiky haired woman grabbed the standing coat rack and hurled it like a javelin at Yor. She started to leap out of the way, but stopped. Loid and Anya would notice anything damaged or out of place. Gritting her teeth, Yor crossed her arms and let the coat rack hit her. She gasped in pain. Thankfully, the sturdy wood held. Yor breathed heavily, mind racing with solutions to the problems presented to her. There were precious few. Fight in the hallway and attract the attention of the neighbors, fight in the apartment and have to explain to a confused husband and adopted daughter what had transpired. In both scenarios, Yor knew that disposing of the bodies would be a problem. They were impossible problems to solve, neither route leading to good outcomes. Yet, when impossible problems are presented, they require impossible solutions. In her desperation, Yor started to concoct a feverish solution. She had pushed her body to the limits before and she would do it again.

She kicked off from where she stood, a true gale springing up from the fury and power of her legs. The would-be assassins blinked and thus missed Yor’s movements. They only saw her again when she appeared to the side of the brunette. The woman lashed out with a grunt and another fist. She hoped for it to find Yor’s face or at least her guarded arms. Instead, it landed on something soft and spongy. Yor had opened her mouth and let the woman’s fist plunge into it. Confused, the brunette tried to pull it back. It was stuck fast. For all her strength, she could not break the hold that Yor had on her. She tugged again, this time finding herself lurching towards her target. Yor was starting to pull her in further. A moment later and Yor’s mouth worked again. The brunette slid ever closer into the gaping maw of the assassin.

“Mmmpgghgh! Ooohmmgghp!” Yor said between swallows. In her muffled grunts and groans, she apologized for the forthcoming method of assassination as well as explained why: she had to make sure no one knew. Though the apology was heartfelt, it made little difference. Yor continued to pull the other woman in, feeling her body getting heavy with each stuck. The arm disappeared quickly, making Yor’s belly bulge outwards. The cute spring green vest that she wore was tortured by the stretching of her stomach. Buttons strained and stitches popped on the side. Yor fumbled backwards as she added the other woman’s weight to her own. The shoulder passed by along with the woman’s head. Yor opened her mouth wider and wider, dislodging her jaw. She bent over like an animal, doing anything she could to help ease the passage of the woman into her. The fatter woman kicked and struggled, unwilling to face her appointed end. The swallowing was slow and tortured, with Yor having to stop to gasp and catch her breath. The other attacker tried to intervene, but was kicked back by the voracious assassin. With Yor blocking the door, there was little hope of escape.

The brunette’s breasts passed by Yor’s tongue. She sampled them, licking and slurping at the bountiful pillows of fat. They jiggled pleasantly, unaware they were on the route towards destruction. Meanwhile, Yor’s stomach flared outward. Her belly had passed any known size for pregnancy, expanding into an oblong and vaguely person shaped mass. Kickings and strugglings showed through the light covering of skin. Her buttons popped one by one, each time making Yor shake. Her gut heaved outwards, falling first onto her thighs and then her knees. The woman was now halfway digested, with her gut sliding towards Yor’s mouth. Yor struggled, unable to muster the vacuum necessary to suck the other woman in. Again she lurched and swayed drunkenly, borrowing an idea from something she had seen in one of Anya’s books. It was a book about alligators. Yor flexed her legs and her arms, slowly squatting the other woman above her head. Gravity would do the work that her throat could not.

In stark contrast to earlier, Yor’s prey was devoured quickly now. She dropped in faster than Yor could handle. Each gulp exploded the size of her quivering gut. Now less a stomach and more a sack for prey, Yor’s belly grew taut and red. Her shirt and vest burst off, unable to hold the intense pressure. As Yor finished swallowing the first woman, her stomach fell to the floor. It landed with the loudest thump that had yet happened in the fight. “BLLLOOOOORRRUUUUPPPPPPPP!” She belched, trying to make room in her stomach. Yor gasped and panted, struggling to breathe. Her chest and stomach were tight. Her hands coaxed and massaged her belly, trying to ease the mounting surface tension. “BBBLLUURRRUUUP.” Yor belched again. Her stomach writhed with the other person inside. The brunette kicked and punched even as she started to digest. Yor smacked against the door, rattling it. Sweat beaded down her face and her sight grew blurry. She could, however, still see her next victim. The redhead was trying to inch away. Yor’s eyes sharpened. She would push past this pain. No target escaped her, especially not one that threatened her family. Lugging her gut along, she painfully thudded her way towards the other woman. 

---

“Yor! The door is locked.” Hours later, Loid was trying to force his way into the bedroom that he and Yor shared. He knocked and shook the handle, trying to open it. “Could you please let me in?” the sharp dressed man asked, not wanting to resort to lock picking or other spy skills. He listened, hearing only grumbling and groaning on the other side. Yor was at least moving, whatever else might be wrong with her. She was a lovely woman, but strange nonetheless.

“Oooh. . .I’m. . . ahh. . .under the weather Loid-dear.” Yor said, hands plastered to her new body. She had woken up from hours worth of digesting the women she had swallowed to find her body changed. The graceful assassin was no more. In its place was a rotund mass of fat. She lay taking up most of the bed, the mattress and supports having long since caved in under her blubber. Each knock on the door made her head pound and sent little jiggles through her body. The only thing that prevented true panic was the drowsiness she felt. “I. . .OOORRRUUP. . .have. . .come. . .uuuggh. . .down with something.” Yor rolled back and forth on the bed, trying to get her hefty body up. She was naked with shreds of clothing all around her. Breasts glistening with sweat slapped against a gut that tickled her knee caps. Bathed in he light of the room, Yor looked like a bloated parody of a renaissance painting. There was little to show that she had spent the afternoon eating and digesting two women. Her thighs slapped together, their size protecting her glistening sex from exposure. She had to roll to the edge of the bed, too weakened to properly carry her bulk. Eventually she dropped off, landing on her enormous ass. 

“Yor! Are you ok?” Loid asked. The concern in his voice brought tears to the 600 lb woman’s eyes. It was touching to see how much Loid cared for her, though she was only prop wife. She sat on the floor, feeling jiggles run from one asscheek into the other. Her legs were spread wide, letting her now floppy gut fall onto the floor. All tightness was gone, with the space now filled with juicy and succulent fat. Yor worked to keep her breasts from slipping under her hammy arms. Her eyes remained trained on the door. It shook again. “Do you need me to come in?”

“No!” Yor flung herself forward, only able to mount to her knees and then splash on the floor on her stomach. She was a parody of the state the red headed assassin had been in earlier. She kicked her legs, feeling them only smacking against buttcheeks that could crush a couch. “I mean. . .oouuggh. . .I don’t want. . .oooouuuggghh. . .to get you sick.” Yor’s lie would not have been convincing, had she not become intimately familiar with stomach gurgles and moans recently. She flopped her way towards the door, a mixture of rolling and crawling. Her body was slowly adjusting to her new weight, learning how to carry over a quarter ton of fat. Her hair was messy and strewn about her padded shoulders and grew even more disheveled as she finally reached the door. Lacking any way to close the door, Yor plopped her gigantic ass in front of it. She trusted the weight would be enough to hold it. She could think of a plan when she was stronger. For now, however, she needed to rest. She let the door bang against her butt, jiggling her now massive body. “BBBOOOORRRUUUUUP! Just. . .jusccht a bit. . .dear!” Yor called, trying to sound sick. The door continued pounding against her butt, making her entire body jiggle. Eventually, Loid would get tired and give up. Then she could plan how to address the situation. She hoped that her handsome husband could accept her bloated, bulging figure.