June Prompt: Lois Lane the Food Critic (Patreon)

Tags: DCAU, Weight Gain, messy eating

Back! Sorry that things were slow at the beginning of the month. I always get nervous when I can't post stuff. I assume that people are getting frustrated at me. Anyway, here is a story about Lois Lane finding a new and fulfilling career!

“You sure this is the best career move, Lois?” Clark Kent asked as he and Lois Lane walked through the busy hallways of the Daily Planet. “There has to be a better use for your skills than being a food critic.” Though Clark towered over his coworker, the confident stride of the other woman made their height seem almost equal. Long black hair fell over a startling  purple suit jacket. She wore a skirt which matched her top, though it was several shades lighter. Her black heels clicked on the polished floors of the impressive building. Few people could command a room like Lois. Clark was more than happy to fall into the shadow of the other woman. For every bit of attention she garnered, less was thrown to him and his super powered exploits. “It all seems so. . .trivial.” He said as they entered the elevator. 

“Trivial?” Lois turned, a sardonic and cheeky smile on her face. “That’s not a word I’d ever thought I’d hear you say.” She elbowed her boyfriend lightly. “Does the American way include labeling jobs as important and trivial?” Sharp as always, Lois was quick to play on the traditional values that Clark had adopted from his earthly parents and home state. She leaned against the wall next to him, resting her slim and fragile body against the corded steel just under his suit. 

“I’m just trying to figure out what a career minded, award winning reporter sees in writing reviews of the latest Italian restaurants.” 

Lois shrugged, watching the floor numbers count down. She had gotten her assignment for the day, a simple write up of a couple pizza places. Extra work was encouraged, with her finding new restaurants to tell the public about. Initially, she hadn’t liked the assignment anymore than Clark had. Though she would never admit it, the farm boy was right about how she viewed the position. It was temporary demotion, created from a surprise retirement as well as a string of dangerous investigations that Lois had been on. The higher ups had felt that their star reporter needed a break. The news had hurt, but she was getting over that. If anything, this might serve as a chance for her to work different journalistic muscles. Certainly, she would get to enjoy what amounted to a paid vacation. The best food in Metropolis, an easy writing schedule, and limited travel would go a long way to easing her burdens. Lois felt surprisingly at ease with the change as the doors opened. 

“A temporary change of pace to keep me out of trouble.” She stepped out into the lavish lobby. The windows were bright with the noon sun. Lois walked with purpose and self-assuredness towards the door. The pizza place wasn’t too far away, a little walk there and back would be enough to keep the calories from her meal away. Clark trailed along behind her, doing his best to affect a clumsy and affable posture. Lois added to it by tugging his dangling tie a little. “I have to find a line of work where you aren’t always having to save me.” Lois turned as she opened the door. “Though, you could be my hero and pick up the tip today. I’m planning on a big lunch.” She proudly walked out of the building and into a new career path. Clark came along, wondering why he felt so at ease with everything.”

--- Weeks of Reviews Later ---

“Hmm. . .would you say that shake was rich or creamy?” Lois said, tapping a pen to her mouth as she thought. She rode in the back of the yellow taxi, one shapely leg crossed over the other. Lois’ legs had started to look far more shapely as she settled into her career as a food critic progressed. Thighs once toned through running towards danger had now become softened by hours sitting in chairs and digesting meals. The thigh on top curved over its twin, sloping softness off to either side. Little jiggles traveled up both legs as she kicked a foot. Her stomach reached out to meet her crossed legs, wanting to fill the wide lap presented. Lois was absorbed in trying to remember as many details of the meal as possible, so she missed the telltale signs of weight gain. She also missed Clark’s face of concern. “Creamy just seems too. . .generic.” 

“Lois. . .” Clark started to speak, wanting to turn attention towards the attributes which Lois seemed intent on missing. Her waistline had grown at a starling rate. Once thin and classically shaped, Lois now rested between plump and outright fat. Her breasts were more noticeable against her usual suit jacket. The red fabric could not hide the press of heavy cups of fat. Though too much of a gentleman to check, Clark’s x-ray vision would reveal that Lois had gone up at least an entire bra size. Likely, she was bordering on going up another size. The superhero and symbol of humanity fidgeted in his seat. He could lift buildings, fight gods, and survive in a vacuum, but could not bring himself to mention her weight. Rudeness was as much a weakness as kryptonite was to the alien demi-god. “. . .would you want to go to the park for a run tonight?” He finished lamely. It was better to nudge quietly sometimes. 

“Oh who has the time?” Lois looked up and shook her notepad. “I swear, Clark, I don’t know how Samantha did it all. These requests for reviews pour in.” Clark watched Lois’ arms, trying to detect jiggles without using any of his super powers. It was only his keen observation that had allowed him to spot Lois’ slight weight gain. However, at the rate she was gaining, it would not take long until the rest of the city began to notice. She dropped the notepad back into her lap, a thick ripple spreading from her deepend belly button. Lois scratched out more notes on her review, deciding on words and descriptions of the food she had tried. It was easy to give basic summaries of prices and menus, but hard to capture the essence of a restaurant. Her first articles had been a bit bland, she had seen upon re-reading them. The owners of the shops and eateries deserved more. Lois wanted to bring their food alive. She had brought detailed investigations to the homes of millions, now it was time to do the same with food. With a little practice, of course. 

“Driver,” Lois put her hand up and signaled the cabbie. “Stop over here for a second.” She pointed to a small ice cream stand. With the promise of a tip, the driver grumbled and slowed the vehicle. Lois ran out, digging her hand into her purse as she walked. Clark watched, with some amount of shame, as her butt bounced against her skirt. Though the skirt was the same length it had always been, it had lost precious inches as Lois’ behind had inflated in size. Now, as she trotted from the street to the stand, it lifted high enough to expose just the hint of the large buttcheek underneath. Clark turned away, putting a hand to his temple. Lois eventually returned to the car. She slid in next to him. One of her small love handles tapping against his body. She scooped up a large helping of ice cream into her mouth. The bite was so large that little trails of cream wound down the sides of her mouth. Lois ate the rest of the bite, musing over it. She swallowed, excitedly writing on her paper. 

 “That helps. That last restaurant definitely had richer ice cream.” Lois nodded her head, scrabbling out more notes. She then returned to the ice cream. “This place could probably use a review as well. Clark, remind me to come back soon.” 

Clark sighed and nodded his head. Superman might have found his next weakness. 

--- Six Months Into a New Career ---

Lois jogged along the city streets, feeling her rotund body shake under her clumsy step. Each of the many flabby elements of her body slapped and jiggled against each other. The food critic was a din of slapping and clapping and rubbing. Her thighs, having long since slammed together, rubbed incessantly. It was only the thickness of her gray tracksuit and the triple sized spanx she wore that kept her from being chafed raw. Her feet slammed on the concrete, renewing the tumultuous undulations spreading through her fat. People stepped aside as Lois jogged, letting the obese woman struggle down the street a little further. Some had looks of disgust, others had looks of pity, and a few of mirthful enjoyment. Lois saw none of them. Instead, her eyes were glued on the shop at the end of the street. Big Dan’s Fried Chicken. It was to be the first stop of the day for Lois. Another tour of eating was about to commence, with the rewards being a slew of articles and added pounds for her waistline. 

Lois arrived at the shop a sweaty mess. She was doubled over, her sweatsuit exposing more than a fair share of well cultivated fat. Her buttcrack peeped out at the world, hinting at the true expanse and softness of her ass. For the moment her rear stayed buried under her pants, but the same could not be said about her stomach. Lois’ paunch hung from her clothes like an overripe fruit about to break from its vine. The hefty sack of blubber wobbled back and forth, moving as she tried to bring air into her tortured lungs. Though Lois had only jogged for a couple hundred feet, the food critic had been pushed beyond her limits. Sitting at booths and then typing stories at her desk had traded physical fitness for precision of language. Lois could write a symphony of words to describe a meal, but struggled to walk even a couple blocks. She gasped a couple more times before walking her heavy arm up the wall of the shop. 

“Need a hand, Ma’am?” Superman, shining beacon of “human” perfection asked. Clark stood above his heavyset girlfriend, sun framed behind his black hair. Though he had crossed the city in several seconds, he had not broken a sweat. His pulse hadn’t even risen from a resting beat. He put out a hand, offering it to his struggling girlfriend. 

“Oh. . .Superman. . .who knew. . .you liked. . .fast food so. . .much.” Lois smiled through her exhaustion. She put her chubby but dainty hand in his. As with many times before, she borrowed his strength. She continued to lean on Clark, though only as an out of shape woman would, rather than his significant other. They were separated by the barrier of professional responsibilities, having to talk across it in coded sentences. Or, in Lois’ case, wheeze across it. “Metropolis’ favorite son. . .needing some. . .comfort food?” 

“Just a fan of your articles.” Clark said, nodding politely. He opened the door and put his hand around Lois’ back to guide her in. Lois leaned in, testing her weight against his strength. Though she had tripled, almost quadrupled in size, Superman could easily push Lois into the building. She walked just enough to make it look natural. Her 400 lbs of fat moved like a daisy in the wind, the strength of a kryptonian able to handle many, many times. Clark’s arm helped calm some of the jiggles around her back. Her butt and stomach still rippled like a stormy ocean, but there was a center of clam. Lois couldn’t help but smile. For the first time in weeks she had felt light. The same sensation that she got when Clark flew with her in his arms returned. Gravity plagued her at every turn, but Superman was there to save her from it. Albeit briefly. 

“Some time you will have to get a bite with me.” Lois remarked, looking over a doughy shoulder. “I’m sure Metropolis wants to know which burger brand Superman prefers. Or what soda he goes for.” 

“Salads and water for me, I’m afraid.” Clark nodded as Lois left his arm. She waddled into the building, becoming one with the smell of frying chicken, drizzled honey, and rising biscuit dough. “Stains don’t come out of the suit easily.” He tugged his cape. 

“Would that we all could have your dedication to a diet.” Lois rolled her eyes and walked into the restaurant as best she could. Her walk was a mixture of the old confident stride and new waddle. She had not totally lost her sensual gait, but it was now bathed in the constant shifting of her ass and thighs. It seemed that her buttcheeks took her waistband for a wild ride, rather than it controlling them. Lois ran her thumbs around her pants, flopping her stomach back under the line of gray. The partially deflated orb greeted her thighs with a hearty slap. Lois waved an arm at her protector, her curtain of bicep fat swinging in empty air. Even the thick material of her sweater could not hide its doughy girth. “If you ever change your mind, I know plenty of great places!” 

---

“Mmmpgggh!” Lois bit into the next leg of chicken. She had just dunked it in a bowl of mashed potatoes and drizzled a packet of honey over the mess. Food smeared across her face, further discoloring it. However plain her outfit was, the coloring of half-eaten food across her chubby cheeks more than made up for it. Orange tangy sauce dribbled down the corners of her mouth, dripping onto her bosom. Her breasts shoved her clothing up, begging for it to be doused in food. “Thassccch. . .BBBLOOOORRUUP. . .darn. . .mmmgghp. . .good!” Lois was already writing the review in her mind. She would intro the discussion around price, specifically just how big the portions were for the price. After, she would slowly work in talk of fluffy, flaky crust with soft and tender meat hidden beneath. She would leave out the mess she made. “HOOLLLOORRRUUUP! Another. . .courssch. . .might not. . .BBOORRRUP. . .be bad.” Lois mused as she slurped off the remaining skin and meat from the bone.

Under the cover of fat, food mess, and, frankly, disgusting etiquette, Lois was practically invisible. She was not an award winning journalist writing a new piece of a restaurant, she was simply a fat woman enjoying her latest meal. Restaurants could look up her name online, but they would find a vastly different woman. They’d find a woman with a thin and tapered neckline, rather than a round face and neck bones hidden under fat. They’d read about how she had worked with police and heroes to uncover crimes by Lex Luthor, rather than see a woman shoveling fistfuls of honeyed biscuits into her mouth. The Lois that would greet people on the website of The Daily Planet bore little resemblance to her real life counterpart. Differences sprang up as similarities fell away. The only commonality between the pair was the connection with Superman. Metropolis   

High above the restaurant, Superman floated above the clouds. Clark sighed, listening to the noises that came from Lois and as well as the table and chair her body was supported upon. He winced as his ears picked up every individual squelch from her rolls. She would lean forward, dragging another plate back to be devoured, and her rolls would push sweat out. She’d then sit, causing a literal chorus of slaps to come from her buttcheeks. Tortured whines from the table and chair clawed their way up and out of the restaurant. Lois was as much murdering the furniture of the restaurant as she was their food. His mind filled with the images of Lois’ butt falling over the chair, both causing and muffling the groans from the wood. The preeminent superhero of the age sighed, wondering if it was even possible to intervene at his point. Further, he wondered if Lois would even want him to. Judging by the glee in which she up-ended an entire carton of fries into her mouth, he doubted it. 

--- Fruits of a Successful Career ---

“Hey Lois, Perry wanted to know if-” Clark ducked behind the door as soon as he entered, accidentally glimpsing a nearly naked Lois Lane. “My apologies, I will come back later.” He said, starting to shut the door. His eyes swam with the sheer amount of rolls and he saw. Clark fumbled to adjust his glasses, as if the motion would hide the fact that he had just seen Lois in a compromising position. She had been bending over, struggling to pull something up off the ground. A gigantic stomach had been partially held up by the edge of the desk. White fat bulged over one side whilst the rest flooded downward towards the ground. Though it had been but a second, Clark could vividly recall the shade of red going across Lois’ face. It had been deeper than the blush on his own face, though hers was caused by frustration. Lois had been reaching and stretching, trying in vain to work her arms past her dangling gut and breasts. Meanwhile, behind her, a bench’s worth of ass fat bullied her leather chair. “Sorry Lois!” 

“Oh. . .uuuggh. . .stuff it, Kansas!” Lois called from the other side. “Get in here and help a little!” Even though the struggle was obvious in her voice, Lois retained her usual playful banter. “False. . .UUGGH. . .modesty. . .is the worst!” Clark felt and heard her desk shift, the rumbling of both the desk and Lois’ thumping steps traveled under the door. Clark’s hand trembled as he held onto the nob. Torn between preserving Lois’ modesty and the need to answer any call for help, Clark played with the nob. Ultimately, he caved to his desire to be of assistance. The door opened quickly and shut quicker, this time with the Kansas farm boy on the other side. The situation had remained much the same. “Come over. . .and. . .aaah. . .help me into. . .my. . .clothes.” Lois wheezed, growing more tired by the second. Between 600 and 700 pounds, any second spent standing was a drain on her constitution. 

“Ye-yes.” Clark approached, trying to look anywhere but at the naked body of his bloated, obese girlfriend. Slim or fat, there were just some taboos that weren’t meant to be broken. For a boy raised on a farm in the heart of Kansas, seeing a woman naked before marriage was certainly one of them. Yet, she had asked. . . “What do you need help with?” Clark asked. He tried to look anywhere other than directly at Lois. However, reminders of her and her weight were everywhere in the room. Boxes, bags, cans, and all manner of food storage was strewn throughout the room. Some of the bags were old but, most worryingly, many were from that day. Each meal was a feast to Lois now. More food meant more reviews, as well as more pleasure. She ate her food by the gallon now, needing as much as possible to thoroughly complete her reviews. Aside from the food, the ripped and shredded remains of her clothes were littered around. This had not been the first time she had been caught mid wardrobe malfunction. The clothes around the office were of various sizes, each helping to chart her precipitous rise in weight.

“Grab my. . .whew. . .romper. . .there.” A fat pair of feet with Lois’ voice entered Clark’s view. They kicked a wadded, crumpled bed sheet’s worth of fabric to him. Lois’ thick, loglike leg stayed in view, showing off its curvage. Lois’ knees had been swallowed by fat. The joint was entirely gone, with only hanging gobs of fat on either side as a memorial. Below was a calf that bulged with fat, obscuring her ankle. Lois’ calves were nearly soccer ball sized, though far more deflated. Meanwhile, her thighs made the trunk of a football post seem small. Lois wiggled her leg back and forth slowly, teasing Clark just a little. He looked away from Lois' hammy leg, instead focusing on the clothing that was supposed to help cover it. His hands made their way confusedly through the acres of fabric. There seemed little way that a human woman could wear the romper and not have it slide off.  At the same time, it seemed unrealistic to expect Lois to fit inside of it. “Come on. . .oooh. . we’re burning time!” Lois chided the shy man. “I’ve got three reservations on opposite ends of the city today.” The food critic reported her itinerary with glee. Only one of those reservations was for work. 

“Lois. . .” Clark said as he spread the romper out and held it up. Lois thumped forward, the office shaking as she clumsily moved into her clothes. Clark looked up, finally seeing the woman that he loved and what she had become. A shelf of stomach fat dribbled down almost to his face. Lois’ stomach had remained a single slab of meat, though it had become more droopy over time. The central core remained taut at food at all times, but the rest was left to become a soft marsh. Above her stomach were large breasts, nipples poking out into the bright light of the office. They were so large that they obscured most of Lois’ heavy face and chins. Her breasts were a waterfall of blubber, hanging off to either side of her large gut. Clark could even see her wide ass poking around the thick trunks of her thighs. He shivered at the thought of trying to force the gigantic pumpkins into regular clothing. “. . .I think maybe it’s time to talk about your figure.” Clark said, realizing it was now or never. 

“Superman. . .aaah. . .taking up body shaming now?” Lois was attempting to be playful, but the words came out with more of an edge than she intended. She walked forward, trying to judge the position of the romper by Clark’s body. She could see only a fourth of him, so she trusted to luck and his ability to help. She smiled as one heavy, pillar leg landed through fabric. The next followed shortly after. Each step was met with heavy ripples through her body. Lois pinched at rolls, excitedly feeling them. Food might have been her primary love, but her body came quickly after. She did not have it in her to hate her body, large or small. She stretched her hands down, flexing thick fingers as Clark shimmied the fabric up her body. “At least. . .whew. . .you can. . .get a girl’s. . .clothes on.” Lois tried to smooth over her earlier statement. Her hands grasped fabric and she started the laborious process of hefting them up over her rotund body. 

“You know I would never. . .” Clark backed away as quickly as he could. He turned and stared at the window. He saw the Metropolis skyline, but Lois’ struggling. “I just want to make sure that you’re. . .happy with how things have been turning out.” He shifted uncomfortably.

“Yes. . .uuuggh. . .Clark. . .” Lois said as she tugged her romper over her breasts. It was finally in place. The lavender fabric bit deep into her rolls, hoisting them up and giving them slightly more shape. Her ass devoured large parts of her romper, making it even tighter as she waddled forward. Her stomach led the way, lurching back and forth. Lois’ second chin fell onto her chest, spreading above her breasts. She looked like a woman composed out of water balloons. Her steps were uneven and widely spaced to accommodate her weight. The day was fast approaching when she could not handle hauling her body across even a small room. The food review section of The Daily Planet’s staff would soon be going mobile, though only on man made machines. As it was now, she could still walk. . .partially. She could waddle just enough to thump her hefty stomach against Clark’s back. She flattened the doughy, flabby expanse across his wide and muscular back. As always, he took much of the pressure off of her. “. . .I LOVE being. . . fat!” She said, rubbing her paunch back and forth. “Question is, can you handle me being heavy?” 

“Lois. . .I. . .” Clark Kent turned. Lois’ stomach filled his hands, arms, and waist. “I’d love you no matter what.” 

“You think so?” Lois continued to press. She laid down, falling into herself. She looked like a purple mattress. “You know, I’m not getting any smaller, right?” She grabbed his arms and hauled her bulk up as far as she could, standing on over taxed toes. “Intentionally. I’m going to get as fat as possible on purpose. For fun. . .and because I think it’s hot.” She winked, knowing overt sexuality bothered the puritanical farm boy. 

Clark cleared his breath and looked Lois in the eye. “Lois, I would love you no matter what.” He said with an even, kind, supportive voice. 

“Guess we’ll have to see. You’re taking me out to lunch today.” Lois winked. “You should probably work on being able to see me naked. There’s going to be quite a lot of food critic to get dressed soon.”