Prompt: Sae's Challenges (Patreon)

Another one finally! This month has seemed more difficult. I hope you all are enjoying the stories still.

Tags: Extreme weight gain, mild health issues, light slob, immobility 

--- Ignored ---

“Is she really not going to text back?” Sae asked, frowning down at her phone. She waited for any response from Makoto, even the moving dots to indicate that someone was typing. The older Niijima sister flicked her thumb over the keypad, smearing it with a little grease. It was hot in Japan, with summer in full effect and she was showing the signs of a body unadjusted to high temperatures. Sweat beaded her forehead, any strand of luscious, silver hair not swept to the side was plastered down. Stains appeared under her arms, soaking the expensive suit underneath. Sae felt the heat as only a plus size woman could: with full force and little relief. She walked down the streets of Tokyo, eyes absorbed in the small screen of her phone. The phone looked even smaller in her chubby hands. Sae might not have been as big as her little sister, but she was hardly the shapely prosecutor she had been before. 

“Too busy eating? Trying on new oxygen masks?” Sae jammed the phone in the pocket of her business suit. What might once have slid in easily had to be forced and wiggled. Sae’s thigh pushed against her pocket. The softness of her thighs made little difference when it came to space. All free space within the tailored pants had been gobbled up by the greedy thunder thighs. Her left pantleg became even tighter as she jammed the phone down. The little rectangle was outlined in stark detail as it settled into its tight home. The little edges poked and prodded her thigh. She treated the annoyances in the same manner she always did. Looking around, Sae looked for the an open food stop, preferably selling something greasy and flavorful. Spotting a sign for takoyaki, she angled her course towards it.  

Sae’s stress eating had not slowed or abated. Rather, they had only increased. She thought often about her sister, filling her bariatric bed with ill kept fat. Gigantic, in need of constant attention, and unconcerned about the future, Makoto was in need of serious sisterly help. Except, Sae was denied at every turn. Hints about losing weight, questions about diet plans, and suggestions for personal dieticians went ignored. Worse, Sae was treated to all of the worst of Makoto’s excesses via social media. Junkie that she was, Makoto posted lurid photos of her eating large meals or being fed them by Ren. Hamburgers bigger than human heads, ramen bowls big enough to drown in, and mountains of fried chicken were only a small selection of the food that was pumped into Makoto’s gob. The thought of it all made Sae sick. She ordered twenty balls of takoyaki with balled fists, frustrated that she was being stonewalled again. 

“Shesscch. . .impossccchible.” Tae spoke through a mouthful of octopus balls moments later. She ate the twin orders of food on the way to the office, in too much of a hurry to care about the politeness of her eating. Smears of brown sauce were spread around her lips and chubby cheeks. The bouncing of her belly grew slower and heavier as food made it bloat outwards. The already sizeable pale sphere was growing ever more full. Digesting carbs and spicy sauce made sure to push Sae’s gut to its fullest point. “Bbbbllurruup. . .She’ll have to answer. . .hooorrruup. . .eventually.” Sae said, powering through the rest of her food. Nearly 250 pounds of plump prosecutor stomped down the streets of Tokyo, dripping sauce and crumbs onto her shirt. 

--- Office Worker’s Plight ---

Sae typed half-heartedly at her keyboard. She pounded the keys in frustration, sending jiggled up and down her thick arms. Though her office was spacious and her desk large, her posture was cramped. She loomed over the small section of desk, scrunching her doughy body up in order to fit her bulk over the keyboard. The thick pads of fat around her arm pushed her breasts up. The numerous stains on her shirt were thrust towards the monitor. The discolorations on Sae’s shirt were a mixture of new and old. Some had been baked in through numerous half-hearted washings, while others had been added through the numerous meals and snacks she had throughout the morning. The blotches shifted back and forth as Sae’s breasts swayed. Buttons threatened to pop, already pulled to their breaking point. The longer the typing went, the worse Sae’s posture became. She hunched over, eyes fixed on the case summary she had started. Though she had been working for hours, only a few measly paragraphs had been written. 

The chair underneath the ass of the sweaty prosecutor gradually rolled backwards.Sae’s shirt had long been untucked, pulled out from between her butt by her gut. Now, as her posture began to evoke the sloped back of early man, Sae’s chair was thrust away from her. The back of her skirt was pulled down by little, unnoticed movements of discomfort she made. More and more of her butt was exposed, showing far more than the hint of buttcrack which had begun the morning. There was more of Sae’s butt on display than there was her chair. The beautiful, well upholstered leather throne she once had was long gone, smashed under her 400 lbs of bountiful fat. She now was forced to balance upon a dunce stool with wheels. Her butt swallowed the small seat, bending and twisting the supports. From time to time her hands would drop to scratch at her butt, threatening to pull up her long buried panties, but never quite managing to accomplish the goal. Sae continued typing trying to force words from her clouded mind. 

“Based on the ruling in. . .1993? 94?” Sae groaned, trying to remember the case which had lended the precedence to the one she was working. Her mind was as clouded and sluggish as her body. Trapped in a fog of frustration and lacking the proper nutrients from fresh food, Sae found it hard to recall the basics of historic legal cases within Japan. Case names and summaries danced around her in an unorganized mess. Blotches of thoughts that matched the stains on her shirt and jacket. “Takeshi vs. . .damn!” Sae broke from her keyboard to pound the desk. A meaty hand slammed down, causing empty drink cups and french fry packages to flutter around in a parody of a snow fall. The stately office was decorated with cheap styrofoam splotched with dried soda syrup and grease stained paper. Sae’s chair rolled through the mess, ripping and tearing everything in its path. Thick and porky legs scooted through the mess, trampling whatever followed in the chair’s wake. “Mei. . .aaah. . .get in here!” Sae bellowed, taking a second to breathe. She had been holding herself so tightly in frustration that she had forgotten.

“Yes, Miss Niijima.” A cute, young clerk entered the office and bowed. Mei was just out of law school. She had thought working with one of Japan’s most celebrated prosecutors would have been a boon to her career and knowledge. Instead, she had been transplanted into a pig sty that cleaned its mess with legal paper. “How may I be of assistance?” She bowed again, though her tone was neutral. The dissatisfaction she felt grew every day.  Sae billowed out before her, half turned but still planted in her seat. A sloppy, sweaty belly slid over one thigh and dangled in the air. Rips had sprung in Sae’s jacket around her biceps, leaking the white of her shirt into the room. Mei noticed that sweat and grease had turned her boss’ shirt nearly see-through. Pink, hog-like fat jiggled and rolled underneath. 

“Take this.” Sae struggled to reach over her own shoulder fat to hand a manilla folder off. She licked her lips before each sentence, as if trying to savor the remnants of meals passed. Mei walked with tight steps, stiffening as she sifted through small piles of food trash. As she grew closer, the smell of fast food and sweat became overpowering. Sae had obviously done a poor job of showering that morning. Odd, considering she had shown up to the office several hours late. The young clerk could only guess what she had accomplished in that lost time. It was related to food or pestering her sister, Me had no doubt. “Write up a summary, including notes for me.” Sae rocked a little as she spoke, needing physical momentum in order to get the words out. “I need it. . .BBBBBLLOOOORRRUUP. . .end of day.” Sae belched without any hint of embarrassment or remorse in the middle of the sentence. Her chins flapped, dancing upon a thick neck. She then started to stand. 

Mei stepped back, knowing she could only leave when dismissed. She was treated to the slow and laborious movements of Sae’s locomotion. Taxed knees and elbows pushed the obese woman up in awkward and uneven spurts. Rolls of back flat thicker than Mei’s forearm collapsed upon expensive fabric. It said much that Sae was able to afford constantly upgrading her wardrobe, and just as much that she took no pain in ruining the new clothes. Fat feet jammed in heels stomped down as she took tentative waddles forward. Sae’s naturally confident but feminine walk had become a troubled waddle. She had lost little of the confidence, but impotent aggression had replaced the sensuality. Sae’s ass shook, bunched up and out of the top of her skirt. Each step birthed a thousand smaller jiggles. Her butt moved like a sack of potatoes mixed with flour. “I don’t. . .want to see. . .any errors.” Sae grunted as she passed Mei. That was as close as the clerk came to an official dismissal. 

Mei returned to her desk. Her only sign of frustration was the tightness with which she held the folder. She watched Sae waddled out of the office, the fat woman’s body loose and sloshing. Sweat was already running down Sae’s face. Mei shivered in disgust as she watched the large woman fishing around in her bra to pull her phone out. Between lackluster attempts at rearranging her heavy breasts and jamming at the elevator button, Sae managed to hammer out another frustrated text to Makoto. 

--- Burger Stakeout ---

Sae had to use both hands to haul the burger to her mouth. It was fat and bathed in grease and butter. As the moon of meat hovered further into her orbit, Sae’s face was obscured from those around her. Everything save for her eyes and forehead was blocked by the meaty construction. Sae munched on the burger, taking several bites before dropping the food. Sae grazed on the burger, chewing like a disinterested cow. However, that was only a cover, she scanned the restaurant as she ate. The large woman checked everyone who came into the building. If Makoto and Ren were going to duck her calls and ignore her texts, she would find them. From her sister’s original slide into body ruining hedonism, Sae knew that the first place to begin looking was restaurants. Tokyo was a big city, but there were few places that could sate Makoto’s disgusting lust for food. Makoto liked her food to be cooked under the most disgusting, greasy, low conditions imaginable. The kind of diet that was almost unheard of by even American standards, and a sin to Japanese tastes. It was at one of these places that Sae positioned herself. 

She had ordered the biggest portions on the menu, knowing that she would be there for a while. Her stomach churned with disgust at the sights and smells, the air was viscous with grease. Yet, there was hunger knotted within the revulsion. Sae’s breakfast had been half a dozen donuts and the carbs had long burnt off. Some of the food had to be eaten, but she resolved to only enough to keep the roaring pangs of hunger at bay. However, as she continued to gnaw at the burger, Sae’s hunger only grew stronger. She stared with enough intent to miss her own sausage fingers grinding sesame seeds off the bun. Sae’s weight had only continued to balloon. Frustrations big and small were met with food. The most unconquerable frustration had been Makoto’s continued silence. She knew the other woman wasn’t busy, it was only that she didn’t want to talk. Instead, Makoto wanted to test her health more. Sae had watched a video of Ren ladling out stew directly into her fat mouth. Makoto had only stopped her voracious indulgence to adjust her nasal plugs. Sae had been shocked to see how pig-like her sister had become. Makoto snuffled the plug back into place and opened her mouth for more food. 

“Mmmggghmp. . .BBBBBLLLOOOOORRRUUP. . .shesscch. . .going to. . .mmmghp. . .kill herself.” Sae brought the burger up to her mouth, thinking aloud as she ate. Hunks of meat and bread dropped on and between Sae’s exposed breasts. She was on her last functioning shirt for the moment. Huge, drooping, pale breasts flooded outward to rest on the table. They shoved the tray away, almost insisting that the fat woman use them as a resting place for the burger. Sae was half-tempted, but only to fit in better with the other pigs of the establishment. The rest of her was as uncomfortably huge as her breasts. Sae’s “disguise” as one of the patrons was infallible. At over 600 pounds, she blended in with the other patrons well. Squeezed into one of the handicap accessible booths, her butt filled with bench below her with ease. Her thigh touched against a cane beside her. She had adopted it as part of wanting to blend in. Sae could not deny that it made moving a little easier. She had tweaked her ankle days before, and removing pressure had been working wonders for her.

In short order, Sae blew past her resolution to only eat a quarter of her meal. The burger disappeared faster than what she had expected. Hammy, grasping fists obliterated the fries as well. Sae hunkered down over her meal, fat squishing further over the table. A paunch that surged out under her partially buttoned shirt flooded the underside of the table. Were the table not bolted to the ground, Sae’s fat would have lifted it up. As it was, Sae’s bulky stomach instead was pressed further between her thighs. Naked stomach fat fought with fat leaking from popped seams for free space and air. Sweat leaked from her deep navel, dripping onto the floor. Sae took breaks from eating to fan her face, feeling warm. “Of course the, whew, AC is broken.” Sae’s fat was too well insulated to feel the currents of air within the restaurant. She brought he muggy humidity of Japan’s summer wherever she went now. Her own apartment had received numerous and confusing complaints about the air being shut off or malfunctioning.

“Where. . .oooommgghp. . .issch. . .he?” Sae asked, scarfing down the last of her food. Her hands wiped their grease, sweat, and other food mess off onto her shirt. She began to fish for her phone. Sae had no pockets and many pockets. The ones on her clothes were unusable, but she had plenty spread throughout the vastness of her flab. Wherever two folds met was a place of storage. So narrow, others vast. As long as a person could tolerate grease and heat, Sae’s flesh pockets were more than usable. Currently, it was only a matter of finding which one held her phone. The constant rub of rubbery fat upon other shelves of blubber masked the sensation of something being held. She lifted one breast, searching through a tidal wave of salty liquid which flowed out. She grunted, dropping her tit. It was harder to probe her body than it was to heft food, no matter what portions she took now. She tapped through her gut fold in the same manner that a person might tap the underside of a table. No success. By the time she found her phone, sandwiched between her underbelly and a pillowy thigh, Sae was angry enough to order another round of food. 

“Ugggh. . .there are. . .easier ways. . .to get. . .in contact.” Sae said, scooting her corpulent mass out of the booth. Even the seating made for large people struggling with their mobility seemed weak when holding up Sae’s weight. It shook, the faux-wood threatening to shatter in several places. Sae continued to grunt and heave. Her hands fumbled for her cane, needing another point of leverage. The suit pants she wore were pressed tight into her mass, outlining every roll. She thrust the cane down, hand shaking under the bare pressure of just her arm fat. Sae’s other arm flailed widly, clutching the silent phone. A button broke, spilling damp breast fat into the world. Pings and rips accompanied Sae’s tortured stand. Her hair fell limply around her face, weighed down by sweat and collected grease. “HUUGGGGOOOORRRRUUP!” A grunt turned into a belch as began to strain her legs and core. Sae rose, a colossal monument to stress eating and corruption. Her thumb shook as she tried to force open the phone.

“Haaah. . .uuuggh. . .fuck. . .them.” She said, greeted by more of the same. Sae took a thudding step, her cane clacking against another table. Her knees ached and her chest thumped. She could feel her blood pressure in her face, a crimson flush spreading. Anger merged with the struggles of sustaining a body as big as hers. It was only raw and unflinching determinism that kept her thudding forward. Her cane acted as the lone pillar of support, bearing more than its fair share of her 600 pounds. Sae advanced upon the worker at the counter. The young teen shirked back, afraid of what was coming towards him. The morbidly obese woman looked close to death, hair streaming down her body and twisting among her barely covered, flabby deposits. When Sae reached the counter, she had to dig both of her arms into the plastic in order to stay standing. She leaned upon the flimsy, cheap construction. An oblong and lumpy butt jutted out, big enough that it started to roll against her back as well as sag down to her thighs. Sae fumed as she thought about her order. She could reach Makoto by other means too. “Same as. . .uuurrup. . .before. . .but. . .make it. . .a double. . .order.” Sae wheezed. 

--- Makoto's New Roommate ---

Makoto struggled awake. She gasped, eyes opening as wide as her heavy face allowed. As was usually the case, she spent the first moments awake snuffling and snorting. The adjustment between machine assisted breathing and her own taxed lungs was never easy. Her breath mask delivered a constant and unrelenting stream of precious gas to her. It was up to her nose and mouth to suck it all down. The only way she managed was by treating it with the same greed she did food. It was a competition to take in as much oxygen as she could. Air brought life and life brought further opportunities to eat. Unfortunately, however, there was no breakfast arrayed for her. Another facet of Makoto’s mornings was the surprise of what Ren had brought for her to gorge on. Towers of pancakes and sausage patties, mountains of eggs with syrup drizzled on top, and swimming pools worth of butter for everything were some of the favorites. Today, instead, there was nothing. Less than nothing, she was being moved away from her resting place. 

From behind Makoto came the breathless voices of her nurses. Even with the wheels on her bariatric bed, they struggled to generate enough momentum. Makoto lurched as they tugged her. Her vast body spread out before her, much of it blocked by her limited view. The brunette could hardly see past her own cheeks and chins. She saw the beginnings of the folds that were the upper portions of her breasts. The rest of her mass she experienced through the touch of Ren and her caretakers. The only way her life could be guaranteed was to stay under the constant supervision of the hospital. Makoto woke to the care of innumerable nurses and doctors and slept in the knowledge that their expertise would keep her safe and protected. Decisions that were not around her nutrition or portion size were never question. Yet, today was strange enough that Makoto spoke. 

“Where. . .haaaah. . .are. . .ooooh. . .we. . .going?” Her voice was tired, full of sleep and the general strain of bearing so much weight. Drool fell from her lips as she spoke, another faculty that had gone beyond her control. She tried to look back at her helpers, but her face was too heavy to move. Even that small bit of mobility had been taken from her. Ren helped her now, adjusting her face as the need arose. Otherwise, she remained nestled in the bosom of her pillows. “Wheresscch. . .whooosssh. . .Ren?” Makoto asked, worry creeping into her voice. The usual monitors assessing the stress on her body began to bleep upwards. Any change or deviation from the norm was shocking to her now. Makoto lifted a heavy arm, the only thing she could manage. It rose shakily, parting from swampy mess that was her fat. Makoto had grown so large that she had started to overflow her bed. Her thighs, butt, and gut all fell off and dangled in the air. The thin sheet which preserved the remaining tatters of her dignity acted as a tablecloth or doily for the sweaty rolls. It was to these rolls that Makoto’s arm started to return.

“Hey.” Makoto’s hand was caught in one that was far thinner but stronger. Ren’s bespectacled face and shaggy hair looked down at her. Makoto smiled, her body sensors blaring more now than before. She felt the telltale signs of catastrophic failure approaching her. Her lungs and chest tightened, with pain spider webbing out through her arm. One of her ivs was immediately filled with medicine, hoping to lower her blood pressure and heart rate. Doctors had worked with engineers to begin to create an automatic healthcare system for Makoto. So disastrous was her health that it was unlikely that a doctor could treat all the symptoms at once. The basic or most easily identifiable symptoms could be left to computers and programs within her bed, while doctors handled the true complexities of her care. She stared up at Ren with confused and pained eyes. As usual, he calmed her.

 “We’re moving to a bigger room.” His hand cupped under a cheek. His thumb stroked her oxygen mask, playing with the condensation. His smile was slight but proud. “I think you’ve outgrown another thing.” His hand traveled down her body. Ren’s lithe and sinewy muscle grappled with a breast several times bigger than his head. He massaged his wife, tenderizing her already soft flab. He glanced up on occasion to avoid any obstacles in the hallway. They were traveling through the hospital proper now. Makoto saw patients of all sizes and shapes. They stared at her with looks of disdain and pity. Were she able to, Makoto would have puffed her chest out with pride. She was practically taking an entire hospital wing with her. A one woman parade, she was a medical marvel of her own. Ren’s investigative hand had moved on to squeezing her gut. “How long until you outgrow this bed?” He asked, making sure to shove around her stomach for extra effect. 

“Asscch. . .oooossccch. . .soon asscch. . .you get me. . .breakfasscht.” Makoto wheezed in response. She settled into the spoiling of Ren’s hands. He knew just which areas to poke and prod for the maximum erotic effect. Though, in truth, Makoto was not lacking in areas to exploit for sexual pleasure. Some combination of obesity and diabetes had made her nerves sensitive to any touch. She was tickled by the slightest poke, with massages becoming even more erotic. The pair rolled down the hall, showing the other patients the extent to which love and gluttony had impacted their lives. Makoto and Ren, however, paid attention only to each other. It took the nurse directly addressing the two to understand that they have arrived. 

“Here is Miss Niijima’s new room.” The nurse bowed to Ren. “We will work on bringing over her other belongings throughout the day, but her immediate care machines have already been transported over.” The nurse reached in and flipped on a light switch. “Her other roommate has just been delivered as well.” The final sentence caused both Ren and Makoto to start. Each tried to ask the nurse more, but she was already walking down the hall. She would spend the day hauling Makoto’s stuff across the building and did not want to delay.

“Room. . .mate?” Makoto asked as Ren started to push her the rest of the way. “Who could be assccch. . .big. . .asscch. . .me?” Makoto wheezed, as she was rolled into the room. The doors were bigger and more accommodating. This was obviously a room made for the terminally huge. Through her sweat-bleared eyes, Makoto tried to discern who her roommate was. A bed as big as hers was in the middle of the room, with space just enough for the two to be next to each other. Makoto saw a humped and flabby form, covered with a thin sheet. Though the blob was smaller than her, it was obvious that they were on the same weighty trajectory. It would only take a few months of stay within the hospital for the other person to bloat further. “Uuuhm. . .oooosscch. . .hello?” Makoto said.

“HHOLLORRRURUUUP. . .hey. . .ussccch. . .Sisscchter.” Sae wheezed back to Makoto. She struggled to lean over, throwing her modesty sheet back to reveal as much of her corpulent, corrupted body as she could. “Finally. . .OOOUUURRUP. . .caught up. . .to you.” Sae said proudly, her face covered with the remnants of her first meal within the hospital. Nurses had shoveled food into her, sensing that she would match her sister in due time. Sae wheezed and coughed, still unused to her breathing machines and the perpetual poke of iv lines. Now within the leviathan of the hospital system, she would have to learn to cede control of her body. That would come in time, as she eased further into a life of laziness and horrendous gluttony. For now, though, she would settle for finally catching her wayward sister. Sae’s thick chins slapped as she chortled. The immobile prosecutor pig lifted a heavy arm, pointing a finger at her younger sister. “God. . .aaacch. . .your. ..fat.” Her hand fell back onto her gut, making her naked tits dance. Sweat beaded her body, rolling down in little rivulets. “We have. . .ooosscch. . .work to. . .do.” Sae spaced her words out, adapting more to the nasal plug with each sentence. 

“Sae!” Makoto’s eyes opened in shock. “What. . .aaacch. . .are you. . .doing?” Makoto gripped her chest, feeling the heart attack racing towards her. The stress of seeing her sister alone would have been too much. Ren ran out to call a doctor. Makoto’s sensors screamed in as much agony as did her body. 

“Hah! This. . .aaggh. . .is why. . .I came!” Sae said, her elation at the surprise causing a heart attack of her own. She doubled over in pain. “I knew. . .ooohhh god. . .you needed. . .help.” Sae flopped back, clammy hands gripping the bed around her. She breathed in and out, feeling her heart thumping and banging in her ribcage. “I’m going to. . .whooosscch. . .guide you. . .to. . .aaaaah. . .healthy. . .living!” Sae cried before the pain forced her into unconsciousness. Makoto followed soon after. Doctors and Ren came running in to find the Niijima sisters gripped by twin heart attacks.