Prompt: Marina and Pearl's Addictive Invention (Patreon)

Tags: Splatoon, Rapid weight gain, roly-poly fat or body expansion, immobility.

Hope you all enjoy this one! Sort of a unique take on fatness, which I think is fun from time to time.

“Marina, yo!” Pearl wandered through the large mansion, trying to find her musical partner. The short inkling had gotten a rather strange text that morning. The tan DJ had said little other than that she had made a large breakthrough and that a meal would be provided. “Where is that girl hiding.” Pearl snapped her fingers, a little annoyed at having to find her friend. She walked through the spacious halls of the mansion, trying doors at random. The often spacey Octoling had neglected to send any further instructions. Pearl had little option other than to wander at random, trying to find any source that might lead her to Marina. In the end, she found the smell of cooking food. It drifted through the house, leading Pearl onward. She checked room after room in the spacious, well decorated house. Being a pop superstar had allowed the two women to live lavish lifestyles. Expensive decor, nice clothes, and exotic foods were all available to Pearl and Marina. Further, the constant influx of money had allowed them to pursue other passions and interests. Pearl, upon finding Marina, understood just how strange those interests could become. 

“Ooooh. . .BBBBLOOOORRRUUP. . .hey Pearl!” Upon checking the fated door, Pearl was met with Marina’s boisterous, gassy greeting. The belch was so powerful that the small inkling was knocked back several steps. A second wave of sensation hit her. Fried, buttery smells came racing along the current created by Marina’s belch. Crab cakes, fish eggs, and other sumptuous goodies rolled over the small inkling. Pearl blinked, never having smelled anything so wonderful. Her other senses seemed to dim, hardly able to see into the brightly lit room. She walked forward, hand over her eyes. The smell of frying crab cakes brought tears to her eyes. Pearl felt as though she was walking into a culinary heaven, guided by the voice of her business partner and friend. “BBBBBLOOOORRRUUP. . . come on. . .OOOORRUUP. . .slowpoke! Gotta get it. . .mmmgghp. . .whilssccht isscch. . .warm!” Pearl wanted to question her friend’s mannerisms, but she was lured in by the smells and ethereal ambiance. She entered the room, her eyes slowly adjusting. 

The room was a fancy dinner room, one of many within the mansion. White walls with crystal chandeliers, gossamer strips of fabric, and a large antique table. Pear remembered the room from the parties that Marina had held. Yet, thanks to Marina’s latest experiment in culinary progress, it had undergone a drastic redecoration. The pearlescent walls were running with food spills. Looking at the smears and splashes of food alone revealed just how intense the gorging had been. Walls that were several feet away from the table were covered. The room was also garnished with towers and stacks of plates, monuments to just how much one intrepid octoling had devoured.  Pearl’s mouth dropped and her arms drooped as her eyes wandered through the mess. It all led to a central point: Marina. 

The octoling was in the center of the room, heavy and huge from constant food intake. Her orange suit jacket had blown open, exposing her tight latex sports bra. Her pants were likewise nearing the end of their life. The sparkling orange fabric combined with her utter roundness made Marina look like a sun. Though she had gained hundreds of pounds of fat, there was no sag or lumpiness to her fat. Rather, Marina was almost spherical. Her stomach jutted outwards, bouncing with each movement the heavy woman made. The rubbery jiggles intensified as Marina struggled to reach for an uneaten plate of food. It rested on the table, within easy reach of any inkling or octoling of normal proportions. Marina’s struggle was because she had grown well beyond the proportions of normality. The strange, bouncy, rubbery fat that she had put on had pushed her upwards as well. A butt as round as her belly had given her extra inches, making her “taller” than any other creature within the Splatlands. Her arms were trapped within the confines of that fat, hardly able to move from their awkward resting place. “Come. . .OOOORRRUUP. . .oooon. . .HOOOLLLURRUUP. . .please!”

Pearl’s eyes widened further as she watched Marina grow with each belch. Her body thickened, growing even more rotund and spherical. She sprouted up like bread in an oven. The growth was even and quick, happening in the seconds during her belches. Marina continued to stretch for the plate, though it was further out of reach than ever. Pearl watched as Marina’s arm’s lost even more articulation. The increasingly spherical nature of Marina’s body reached to suck her arms in. Heavy donut rolls formed around chubby forearms, foretelling the slow pull into the main mass of her body.  Little sweat droplets bounced pitter-patterd off Marina’s fat-inflated stomach and breasts, flying off into the air with cartoon sound effects. Finally, the gigantic woman gave up. She fell back into a quartet of chairs which bent low under her weight. “BBBBLOOOORRRRUUP!” Marina belched, growing more. “Helper! I could. . .OOORRRUUP. . .use assistance.” Marina called, forgetting about Pear in her need to satiate her gluttonous desires. 

“Marina, girl, what have you done!” Pearl finally got command of herself. She ran froward, tripping and stumbling through the stacked mountains of food. She arrived at her friend’s side through a crash of plates. “We need to get help!” Pearl put a hand on Marina’s side. She felt the churning, stirring mass within Marina. Food ready to be digested into further fat. 

“Heeeeey Pearl!” Marina said as if she hadn’t see her friend seconds before. “I. . .bbblooooOORRRUUUP. . .agree!” Marina’s gut pushed out, shoving the tiny inkling back through the plates she had just pushed through. Marina tried to turn her head. Her neck had long since merged with padded and obtuse shoulders. She could hardly see past her brown skin, which inflated visibly as the seconds ticked by. The fire of Marina’s metabolism burned hot, melting and processing the calories within her. She was destined for hugeness, even if no more food was added. “The food is SO far away now. . .and I’m so hungrrrrry.” Marina whined, wiggling now useless arms and legs. 

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it!” Pearl stood with her foot on a sliding stack of plates. Expensive, designer shoes were marked with flakes of crab cakes and mustard. Pearl pointed a judging finger at Marina. “You got FAT and we need to fix that! What is the media going to think about OUR image!” 

“But Pearl, you. . .BBBLLUUURRRUP. . .have to taste this stuff!” Marina gave another belch. This one was the final spasm of growth needed to smash the chairs under her. They crunched and snapped with such force that Pearl winced. Marina toppled down, landing with a wet splat. Her fat lurched up and down, spraying ink-sweat in a circle around her. The living orb of fat rolled back and forth, counterbalanced by her breasts and butt. She was mostly spherical, though the sheer weight of the fat she was packing on was starting to make her shape more oblong. Though rubbery, fat eventually had to start behaving like fat. “Once my helper gets here. . .HOOORRUUP. . .you have to have a little nibble.” Marina giggled before thrusting her weight forward. Her fat toppled forward, letting her roll into the food. She landed with an undignified splat, face first in the final plate of food. She ate without the use of hands or utensils, letting her mouth do all the work. Spittle, crumbs, and blots of sauce flew out in all directions. Pearl back up in disgust, unsure of what to say to her friend.

As she stepped back, Pearl bumped into something metallic and rectangular. She jumped, looking back in surprise. Behind her stood a clumsy, odd looking robot. It was mostly rectangular, with arms made out of innertubes and clamps at the end. Upon it’s chest was burned a name or serial designation: Fr3nch-Fry. “What the hell are you! What did you do to Marina?” Pearl asked, arms out in a threatening pose.

“BZZZT. She is my crea-tor.” The robot buzzed and hummed. It spun upon tank treads, the perfect means of conveyance over the piles of plates. “I am built to. . .ZZZT. . .feed.” The robot picked up a plate and shoved it into an opening which appeared in its lower chassis. A violent shaking overtook the machine, with smoke rising from uneven gaps in its plating. Finally, it’s nameplate opened to return the plate. It came out with a steaming galactic seanwhich, a combination of tempura coated meats, buns, and heaps of toppings. “I am. . .bzzzt. . .meant to feed.” The robot offered the food to Pearl. She took it in confusion. The robot was already busy working on its next meal. 

“Marina, you made this thing?” Pearl asked.

“Sure. . .HOORRRUP. . .did!” Marina responded, having just finished her food. More serious growth was starting. She oozed over the table, looking ever more like a beanbag filled with gelatin. Her flab forced the table down, lifting the other end like a teeter totter. “Rapid refuels in between turf wars. Pretty neat!” Marina said, ignoring what her invention had actually lead to. “I made the food easy to digest. . .BBOOORRRUUP. . .and tasty!” She spread further out, now bigger than a crab tank.” The robotic servant rolled over, holding a plate of deep fried shwaffles for her to devour. Marina dropped her face once more, eating from the porcelain trough. Her body grew as she ate, removing all traces of her arms and legs. Marina Ida was completely oblong now, a pudding shaped octoling. “Go on. . .mmmgghp. . .Pearl. . .give it. . .a. . .mmmgghp. . .try!” She turned her head as much as she was able, her cheek resting in a pool of ketchup. 

“Why in the world would I do that!” Pearl said, looking down at the food. “Marina, this stuff is toxic!” Pearl's hands shook, fingers tightening around the porcelain. 

“So get rid of it. . .or feed it to me!” Marina said, flapping her now vestigial hands. Teh bountiful blob of blubber bounced up and down. Her body shook, the wet sounds of slapping fat and increased ink production filling the room. Tortured wood cracked and screamed beneath her. The euphoria of hugeness was rolling over Marina in waves. She wanted to fill her belly over and over, letting it stretch and grow if only to fill it again. “Coooome on Pearl! Have a little fun!” 

“I. . .” Pearl grit her teeth, sharp fangs peeking out of her mouth. The smell of the food was in her nostrils, singing about its deliciousness. Pearl had listened to Marina’s instructions and had come hungry. She felt hunger gnawing at her, bolstered by the temptation of food. Spices tickled her nose. She could only guess at the programming that had gone into the cooking bot. Whatever it had made was addictive by smell alone, with tasting the dish being the final binding. Pearl was coming ever close to that point. She wanted to dump the food, afraid of what might happen to her. A roly-poly ball of blubber, spending her time eating and growing alongside the other mountain in the room. She looked at Marina. Her sparkling, brilliant orange clothes were ripping off and hanging in streaming tatters. Dark colored flab oozed and undulated. The slow ripples of the chugging weight gain and hypnotic smell of the food slowed Pearl’s mind. She went to dump the food, but was surprised when it found her mouth instead. Betrayed by her body, Pearl slurped down the fried confection. 

“BZZZT. . .I will need to prepare more.” The robot said, already chugging through piles of food. “Pearl. . .ZZZZZT. . .I will begin feeding you an opening platter.” The machine slotted plate after plate into it’s chassis. “We will assess your flavor profile to understand what would be most delicious.” The inkling dropped the plate in her hand, stomach already starting to bulge. She stared at the robot approaching her. Pearl licked her lips and smiled, ready for food. 

--- Happy Blobs ---

Pearl swam in her own fat. She could see nothing beyond a bloated, puffy pale body streaked with pink ink-sweat. Metallic hands were pushing her, rolling her immensity about the room. The room spun slowly as she made the rotations. Fr3nch-Fry would push her up then let gravity carry her down. She would end the rotation in an almost unending cycle of undulations and ripples. Her neck, arms, and legs were all consumed by her rapidly bloating form. Course after course had been packed into her, creating a cauldron of digestion and expansion. Back fat had started to overtake her head, pushing her tentacles around. As the immobile inkling was pushed into a final resting place, her vision became filled with brown blubber. She faced Marina, the two friends mirroring each other’s bodies. The final shove from the robot put Pearl into place. She stared at her friend, the two with matching dazed and happy eyes. 

 “Ooooh. . .HOLLLOOOORRUUP. . .Marina.” Pearl moaned, feeling another surge of growth coming. Her body tightened and then loosened. Inch by inch, she spread across the floor. Like a waterbed with a hose constantly running, she grew. Her belches only sped the growth up, adding surges to the constant expansion. Underneath her was the table, or what was left. It had been broken and destroyed in segments, with only the final section left. The small section was surrounded on all sides by white and brown blubber. “Scchhhhoooo. . .HHHOORRUUP. . .hungry.” Pearl licked her lips, almost drooling ink. She had caught up to Marina in record time, finding herself even more hungry in the process. She wanted to eat and grow, letting her bulk fill the room and slap against Marina’s.

“Issscch. . .BRRRRAAAAAP. . .coming scchhooon!” Marina laughed, sleepily enjoying Pearl’s moans for more. She wanted to hug her short but blobby friend. Willing to follow her into obesity and food addiction, Pearl had proven to be a constant companion. Now, the two could grow together, becoming happy blobs together. Marina held her breath, willing her body to grow. She wanted to expand. Only a few feet separated her from Pearl. Then the two could be blobby buddies, their bodies inseparable. She exhaled finally, having grown only a little more. They needed food to power their bodies, to start the engine of expansion once more. She would have called for the bot, had she not felt it scaling her blubber. Extendable arms and running tank treads tickled Marina. Fr3nch-Fry sank into her room filling fat as it summited her mountainous body. It was shaking even more violently than before. There were no plates to hold the food coming. Marina and pearl looked down through their flabby, many chinned faces down at the small remaining section of table between them. It was to be the final plate, until their bulk crushed it. It would hold a mountain of food for them to glut upon. Afterwards, food would just simply have to fall into their open mouths.