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"You call this. . .mmmpggh. . .enough?!" Katara yelled before jamming more food back into her face. Her body stretched across some combination of throne and bed. The strange piece of furniture was lavish, with a golden frame wrought into the shape of swirling flames. Exactly the kind of thing the most spoiled, highest ranking concubine in the Fire Nation ought to have. Katara was spread across it, her doughy body taking up every bit of available real estate on the immense, plush mattress. Yet, it was hardly enough. Katara’s heaving mass of tanned fat was outgrowing her throne. Already her monstrous hips were shoving off the side of the bed, blubber pouring out into empty space. Soon, terribly soon from the way she ate, the rest of her would follow suit. Her immensity would devour the mattress and even the frame, crushing it beneath an endless tide of selfishly cultivated fat. Katara longed for that day and glutted herself in anticipation of it. The thrill of proving that something wasn’t enough for her was a pleasure all its own, second only to the pleasure of getting yet more.

“More” was Katara’s favorite word. More food, more wine, more jewelry, more sex. She demanded the most and the best from everyone and everything, usually loudly and with exaggerated, sloppy hand motions. Since her addition to the Fire Nation by way of Azula’s bedchamber, Katara had come to regard material possessions in a new light. Her exposure to opulence in the past had always been at a distance, something observed but never owned. Now, thanks to Azula, she had been drowned in it. Wealth, money, and power are hard fruits to swallow if given all at once and you have never tasted them. Thankfully, Katara had proven herself up to the challenge. She had devoured them, letting them change and mold her in return. She was a different woman both physically and mentally.

“Burrrrppppp. . .you had better be running off to fetch more food!” Katara yelled at a serving woman, who was dashing out of her room. The girl’s attire marked her as one of Katara’s personal servants. She, and the other ladies, wore little besides a thin strip of fabric across their voluminous breasts and a thong with strips of fabric that fell down to their ankles. Katara always chose the best, most curvaceous women to serve her. With her dominance once again established, she settled down to work at the cake that lay between her breasts. Her jewelry clinked and glittered as she worked at the feast. Bands of gold graced her wrists, almost buried in fat. Three or four sets of earrings tinkled softly, their trailing bands tickingling her neckfolds. Nipple-rings, huge loops with priceless crystals dangling from them, swung at the end of her nearly-person sized breasts. A bellybutton piercing could be seen on occasion, should her massive stomach folds move the right way. A choker buried itself in her thick neck, inches away from burst and letting her fat neck go free. A similar thing had happened months ago with a diamond necklace. Priceless gems had been scattered across Katara’s folds. She had let her servants pick them out, provided they pleasured her as they went. A few of the diamonds were never recovered.

Katara continued to eat, her whole body shifting and swaying. Once, long ago, she had been delicate and graceful. Katara had been able to move like a swift stream, flowing from movement to movement. She had danced for Azula and her court, letting her body pay her way. She hadn’t even been chubby then, thick and curvy, but hardly the court-pig that she was today. Now, she could best be described with comparisons to the ocean. Her body seemed to move in slow, tidal motions. Rising forward to grab and paw at food and sexual partners, before falling back into repose; only to come back stronger a moment later. A truly immense ass shook and wobbled behind Katara. Big enough that two or three people could sit and ride on it as if it was a carriage seat. During holidays, when celebrating Azula’s conquest of the world, it was. Katara was brought forth and paraded around the city with Azula and company. Mai and Ty-Lee would ride on her. The former would delicately rub and pat Katara’s bulk, as you would with a beast of burden while the latter would slap and pinch excitedly. Katara basked and soaked in the physical praise and attention. Oftentimes, it was other people who did a better job of moving Katara’s body rather than herself.

As it was now, Katara had to almost fight her body. It was the kind of struggle that could only be properly enjoyed by someone so wealthy and spoiled that they could afford to cultivate endless fields of fat. She would reach for food resting on her stomach but find an immense breast in the way. Breasts and booty, Katara’s hallmarks. She was a girl whose transition to womanhood had involved a lot of growth and development. Katara had quickly filled out, reaching a seductive peak in her early 20’s that few women ever reach. A thin, at the time, waist coupled with heavy yet perky breasts and a bouncing butt drew stares and attention. Truly, that had been the first moments of awakening greed in Katara. She felt the way that men and women stared lustily at her. . .and wanted more of it. So she had learned to dance, borrowing heavily from her waterbender training. Every step, dancing or not, had become fluid and beautiful. Ironically, it would be fluidity and grace that Katara would discard first once she gained true success. Now, years removed, she had to move in huffing, puffing bursts of activity. Her stamina for movement of any kind was long eroded. The blobbish waterbender would shove herself forward, stuff some food into her mouth and then fall back into place amongst her pillows. The process stretched her meals out, making them last hours at a time. She took breaks only to enjoy other, more passionate activities.

“Ahhh, I see someone is a little grumpy today. What has my princess so up in arms.” Azula’s voice came through the room. Katara looked up happily from her meal, ready to throw the cake aside. Azula walked into the room, aided by Mai and Ty-Lee. Azula, Fire Lord and conqueror of the known world, wore a heavy robe. Underneath, it was obvious from the swell, was a heavily pregnant belly. Azula had become obsessed with breeding lately, her mind captured by fantasies or prophecies of an heir that would be every bit as glorious as she was. She had already given birth to one child, who was nearing a year, but that hadn’t been enough. She was now pregnant with twins and Katara was sure there would be more after that. It was as if Azula was trying to birth an entire nation of rulers all herself. Azula continued to walk/waddle into Katara’s room. Mai and Ty-Lee tenderly held her arms, guiding her and easing her passage. Azula could walk under her own power, but she despised the waddle that pregnancy was giving her. She felt that it made her look too weak, so she offset it with her companions. “Sounds like someone is a little pent up.” Azula said as she reached the foot of Katara’s bed. Mai and Ty-Lee let go of Azula. Her heavy robe fell away, revealing her very pregnant body. Staring at the curves of Azula’s body, Katara realized that Azula was right.

“Only because your help is so incompetent and lazy.” Katara tried, and failed, to cross her arms. Her flabby, pillow-sized biceps couldn’t hope to be hefted up and over her nearly person sized breasts. “Honestly, they should all be jailed.” Katara huffed, the threat was not an idle one. “Is it so hard to just give me one good, solid. . .” For a moment, Katara wanted to say something else, but she bit it down, coyness was a concubine’s greatest tool. “Meal.” she finished, blowing a loose strand of hair out of the way. Her body sloshed lightly as Azula started to climb onto the bed. The gravid ruler allowed for a rare moment of weakness, her naked body struggling to haul itself up onto the bed. It took three tries, her belly swinging back and forth with each attempt, for Azula to finally clamber onto the bed. She was a pale white shadow cast over Katara’s large, tan canvas. Her belly bumped against Katara’s as she made her way up to her lover’s face. Katara shivered as she felt Azula’s belly sensually rub against hers. It was like someone was rolling a heated boulder over her flabby folds.

“And here I thought it was because we hadn’t paid you a visit today.” Azula said as she finally reached the summit of Katara’s bulk. She shoved the cake out of the way, it rolled and splattered against the ground below. Azula looked partially a cow and partially a goddess as she kneeled on Katara’s bulk, her hands helping to prop her up. “My poor concubine, stuck in her room with no one to pleasure all day long.” Azula flopped down onto her side, letting her pregnant stomach jut out into Katara’s left breast. “Seems like a reason to get pent up.” She reached a hand up, teasing the glittering forest of earrings. “But maybe it’s because I’ve been negligent in my gifting duties lately. When was the last time I gave you a kingdom’s riches?” She toyed with earrings more, remembering how she took them from some fortified, earthbender mansion. She loved spoiling Katara with gifts, draping her in the conquests that she had led. Especially knowing that her immobile lover would soon tire of the gifts, only wanting more. The wealth of the world was draped over Katara. . .and it still wasn’t enough. The only thing that could truly satisfy her greed was Azula herself.

“Well. . .your presence is always welcome.” Katara shifted forward, running sausage fingers over Azula’s belly swell. “Especially now with you so in bloom. You know I can hardly resist.” Katara leaned forward, her body jiggling and slapping against itself, and kissed Azula. As always, it was amazing. Azula was passion incarnate, fiery in everything that she did. She met Katara’s kiss and returned it with excess. Katara fell back, once again returning to her resting position. Azula was soon grabbing and fondling a breast, teasing the giant ring that adorned it. Azula was cognizant of her belly, making sure that it was protected against the crashing waves of Katara’s body. She held it delicately with her free hand. Azula hardly fought her motherly instincts now, having grown used to them. They were still, odd, foreign things but not totally unwelcome. There were some days when she spent the entire day on top of Katara, the bigger woman lavishing kisses on her pregnant belly. She was a bloodthirsty conqueror, a tender mother, and exuberant lover all rolled into one.

Finally, the two broke apart. “Feeling better?” Azula asked. Katara nodded, her choker finally snapping under the force of her neck-fat. Azula giggled, picking up the broken piece of jewelry. “You know this was one of a kind, right? Taken from Bai-Mao’s temple when he tried to instigate a coup against me.” Katara gave what might be a heavy shrug, it was hard to tell with how padded and fat-broadened her shoulders had become. She smiled, proud that her body had destroyed and mangled yet another artifact. “God I love how little you care.” Azula said, planting a kiss deep into Katara’s chins. Azula was on all fours again, her belly tickling Katara’s uppermost belly fold and her pert butt quivering. Azula went on kissing and licking Katara’s chin folds, sensitive and rare treasures themselves. Nearing the height of passion, Katara struggled to do much more than cry out or moan. Her body felt immense and heavy, weighed down by her sexual desires. It was moments like this where she almost wished she was still mobile enough to move her arms for extended periods of time. She wanted to cup her hands around Azula’s perfect ass and push her further forward. Yet, she preferred the alternative, so big and fat that she couldn’t do anything other than receive pleasure. A dream come true for a concubine.

At one point, Azula threw a hand back and snapped her fingers. Ty-Lee giggled, elbowing Mai. The signal was given and they all could join in now. The acrobat danced and skipped her way towards Katara’s mountainous, quaking ass while Mai put her hands to Katara’s rumbling, lowermost belly fold. Soon the assassin was burrowing her way under Katara, feeling the crushing weight of the folds above her. Katara loved feeling people squirm and wriggle beneath her, hardly able to breath or move because of her weight. She felt powerful and beautiful. It was a three way competition for Katara’s attention, she constantly drifted between the three. Each knew their business well. . .having been taught and instructed by Katara herself. The spoiled, fattened concubine threw her head back and moaned loudly, forgetting all else around her. The fun lasted for hours.


(Make sure you read part 2!)

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