Orihime's Slobby Spiral (Patreon)

Tags: Slob, Gas, mild health issues, corruption, personality change.

Kind of weird writing something with gas. It certainly was an experiment for me. I might do it again in the future, or allow it in commissions for a premium price.

This is a sequel to: https://www.patreon.com/posts/orihimes-corrupt-76970371

“Harribel! I’m boooorrrreeeed” Orihime whined, slamming her pudgy palms into her massive lap. Her time in Hueco Mundo as a servant of Aizen had continued on. Thanks to the torture and abuse she had suffered at the hand of Loly Aivirrne, she had found her voice. However, that particular discovery had unlocked something within Orihime. Rather than the gentle, loving soul she had been before, she was transformed into a gluttonous brat. She had become like her captors, a corrupted soul bent on only her own selfish aggrandizement. Worse, for the various Arrancars, she was given free reign by Aizen. His grand strategy was in motion and he needed no one other than himself now. This left the bratty, spoiled redhead to do as she pleased. Eating, sexual escapades, and berating those beneath her now filled her days. Yet, the various stimuli she had once been so thrilled by had ceased to amuse her. She had some of the most powerful creatures between Heaven and Hell under her sway. . .yet was bored. The feeling had been building in her, almost taking a physical manifestation within her fat. However, the plan for relief was in motion. “When are my friends going to be joining us?” She pouted, crossing her puffy arms over her watermelon sized breasts.

“They. . .OOOOURRRUUUPP. . .will. . .uuuggh. . .be. . .UURRRP. . .'' Harribel wheezed and belched as she lay on the floor. The blonde Espada had changed drastically under Orihime’s control. Her tanned skin, shaggy blonde hair, and curvaceous body had made her a natural target for Orihime’s “games”. There was something about constantly feeding and fattening the stoic, quiet warrior-woman that was highly exciting to the red headed blimp. Harribel had not been able to refuse, held under the sway of the domineering, bratty woman. Helpless to Orihime’s advances, Harribel had grown fatter and more slovenly. She lay on the floor, too fat for any device or structure to sufficiently hold her. She was a rotund mass, a flowing pile of sweat drench rolls and filth covered folds. A pile of rancid sweat lay beneath her, the culmination of months of endless eating with nary a bath to cleanse her body. A trough lay before her, positioned just under her dangling chins and jowls. Further to the left lay an oxygen tank, with tubes running up and to her nose. “They. . .hhhuufff. . .our agents. . .uuufffh. . .” She sucked in through her nasal plugs, trying to ignore the smell of her own body. “. . .Have not. . .ooohhh. . .returned.” She murmured, feeling her stomach rumbling uncomfortably. She had been eating most of the day, at the behest of her mistress. She was now feeling the consequences of that.

“Why are they sooo slow!” Orihime whined. She slowly stood from her triple wide chair. She had gained slower than Harribel, working to contain her rampant selfishness and gluttony for the sake of further fun. Yet, all the same, she was starting to crest into immobility. Her stomach flopped far over her thighs, almost reaching her knees. Two thick, pitted lumps of fat made up her ass. They smashed together, pulling the small strip of white fabric she used as a loincloth-slip between their masses. The fabric was drenched in sweat and grease which ran from her manifold back rolls. Close to 700 pounds of sweaty fat lumbered up beside Harribel, the latter’s stomach so fat that she was hoisted up into the air enough to almost look Orihime in the eyes. Harribel shuddered with each wheezing breath, trying to take air into her beleaguered lungs. Every day was a fight for Harribel to not have more of her dignity taken from her, a battle she often lost. “It’s not fair to me!” Orihime said, falling into the blob of blubber before her. The two obese women’s sweat and stink mixed together as Orihime pressed deeper into the folds. Harribel groaned, trying to ignore a rising tightness in her stomach.

“They. . .UUURRRP. . .are. . .hooofff. . .working as. . .best they. . .uurrp. . .can.” Harribel said, trying to ignore her ailing stomach. The greasy, sloppy foods that Orihime had fed her seemed to be coalescing into a singular, radioactive mass in her garbage barge stomach. Harribel tried to contain and control herself as much as possible. As an Espada, as a warrior, and as a woman she tried desperately to rise above the pits of degradation that her bratty boss had plunged her into. So, feeling her stomach bloating and growing more upset, she clammed up. She closed her mouth, so given to unintended and unwanted belches, and constricted what muscles were left in her body. She wanted to clamp down on her stomach, assert a lion’s dominance over her wayward organ. Yet, it only fought back twice as hard. Rumbles and splutters issued from her stomach mass. She seemed to inflate before Orihime’s eyes. “My. . .ooohh. . .UURRRP. . .Lady.” Harribel grit her teeth and pushed the words out, trying to act as if all was normal. Yet she continued to swell and bloat. She wished to continue discussing future plans with Orihime, finalizing the next scheme that the wicked woman had come up with. This one would be quite wicked indeed and, hopefully, it would give the bloated blonde some space. Yet, her body had other needs.

BRRRRRMMMMPPPPTTTTT. FMMMMRRRT.

The gas exploded out of Harribel’s rear in a torrent, flooding the room in a noxious smell strong enough to wake and subsequently kill the dead. Harribel grimaced, trying to ignore what she had just done and the feeling of relief it had given her. BRRRRMMPPPPPT. The third fart sounded like a brassy tuba, surprising even Harribel. Her body slumped down, muscles forced into relaxation. It would appear that embarrassment and degradation was going to overpower her warrior’s spirit. Of course, for as much as Harribel hated it, Orihime had a different reaction.

“Ooooh. . .look who's a gassy little lioness!” Orihime waddled over and pinched and played with Harribel’s cheeks. They were heavy in her hand, sodden with sweat. The blonde mumbled something, but it was lost between Orihime’s hands and her own facial fat. “All this time I thought you were stuffed with food. Turns out it was just gas.” Orihime scooped a handful of food from the feeding trough. “Guess you have more room then!” She shoved the food into Harribel’s face, the once proud fighter eating it messily. As Harribel licked and sucked at Orihime’s thick fingers, several more explosions of wretched gas flooded from her rear. The room was thick with butt-stink, mixing with the already overpowering smells of sweat and body odor. Each fart made the dirty lioness’ fat jiggle and clap, such was the strength of the gaseous blasts. “Harribel,” Orihime chided, scolding the massive woman like she would have scolded a small child. “Are you doing that on purpose? I thought we talked about this?” Orihime slowly got down on her knees, eye to eye with the massive woman. “Once our guests arrive and are properly. . .inducted. . .into service, then we can have fun.” Orihime kissed Harribel sloppily, not caring about the food that was around her lover’s face.

BBBLLLUMMMPPTTTT

Harribel again filled the room with gas, though not of her own choosing. She moaned internally, trying to figure out where things had gone so wrong. The only consolation prize for her was that she was soon not to be alone. Once her agents apprehended Rukia and Yoruichi, Orihime would have new playthings. Harribel hoped the day would come soon.

----

Harribel’s waiting was shorter than she would have imagined. Within a matter of months, the agents that she and Orihime had sent out successfully delivered their prize. Rukia and Yoruichi, important members of the Kuchiki and Shion clans respectively, were dragged into Orihime’s degraded palace area. They were first greeted with a stench that was capable of burning paint off a wall. It was so strong that it seemed to take visible form, rising as a viscous and soupy mist that clouded the quarters that Orihime and Harribel spent their time in. Yoruichi and Rukia coughed and spluttered as they were led through the noxious mist. Their eyes burned and watered, trying to adjust to what seemed like centuries of degradation. Orihime, and especially Harribel, had poured so much corruption into the castle that it had been artificially aged. The stink seeped even into the rock and foundations. Throughout their walk, both of the Soul Reapers heard the deep, brassy sounds of Harribel’s farts with the added applause from her asscheeks beating together. The various BRRRPPHHHPTs and FFFFRRRMMMPPPTTTs were strong enough to send rushing currents of foul air towards the pair. Stronger than spirit pressure, the rancid blasts of air and gas forced Rukia to her knees once. Finally, as the stink reached its apex, the two were reintroduced to their longtime friend and her slobby helper. It was a surprise to say the least.

“Orihime?” Rukia asked, wiping her watery eyes. She tried to see through the sweaty mist in the room. Orihime stood at the back of the room, trying to force her bulk off of Harribel. Rukia and Yourichi tried to rationalize and understand what they saw before them. The two women went through the natural stages. First confusion at seeing their friend in her current state, then revulsion. The once sweet, charming, innocent girl had become the picture of repugnance. Weight had piled onto her further. Even though she had wanted to stall her gain, allowing for as much time as possible to grow with her friends, Orihime had been unable to sufficiently slow her gluttonous appetites down. Her stomach now fell to the floor, dragging across the polished stone flooring as she heaved her bulk forward. Sweat poured from every roll and fold, running in rivulets down her body. She wore a gossamer-thin, white dress. At least, it was supposed to be white. Days of eating and sweating had irrevocably altered its color. Most of it was see-through, allowing her wet breasts, stomach, and hips to be seen. All that was not see through from wetness had been dyed a yellow color from sweat stains. Her gut, now sprawling along the floor, flowed out from under the greasy rag.

“Ooohh! Look who. . . finally. . . showed up!” Orihime wheezed, as she waddled away from the stink-pile that Harribel had been reduced to. The two Soul Reapers both took steps back from the disheveled woman waddling towards them, afraid of what she had become. She continued to advance, walking them down until they were pinned against the wall. Her wide stomach easily pinned the two, with the added bonus of her breasts poking into their chests and faces. Try as they might, Rukia and Yoruichi had sweat and grease running into their mouths. They could taste Orihime just as much as they could smell her. The obese woman leaned forward, pressing her fat face forward. She smiled, her neck and chins coalescing into a singular roll of putrid fat. “I was so in need of friends! As much as I love Lord Aizen, his forces are soooo dull. Except Harribel, that is.” Orihime glanced backwards at her wheezing, heaving “bodyguard” just in time for the massive woman to let out a room shaking fart.

“Orihime, this is quite the radical change.” Yoruichi said, using her natural wit to maintain her composure. “Might be time for that diet we talked about.”

“No! No! No!” Orihime reacted quickly, stamping her foot in a bratty display. The mere ideas of temperance and restraint had become an anathema to her. Her gut flopped and rolled over her captured friends, smearing them with grease further. The massive woman carried on until her muscles gave out and her heart started to pound. Pain lanced through her chest, something that had been happening more frequently. She slowly recovered, running thick fingers through her limp and grease-sodden hair. “Actually, it's going to be you two that enjoys a bit of a diet. Just a little treat from me and Lord Aiiizzeeen!” Orihime swooned a little, proud of how well she was serving her lord. Not only had she captured two of the top Soul Reapers, she was going to convert them. They would be plunged into a metaphorical lake of filth, ingesting and becoming one with it.

“You can’t be serious!” Rukia said, always the hot tempered one. “We would never join. . .” She was stopped by a thick finger to her lips.

“Doooon’t be so sure!” Orihime tried to sound cute and playful, but there was an obvious edge to her voice. Like a child wanting to get their way but feeling resistance. “I thought the same thing.” She continued, her voice bubblegum sweet. Too sweet. “You’re gonna learn to love it, all the indulgence. . .all the freedom.” To make her point, she allowed a small Frrrrrt to escape her own buttcheeks. Stink wafted up to the captives, they turned their heads. Orihime, displeased, scowled. “Well. . .maybe a little time sitting behind Harribel will change your perspective.” She leaned back, almost falling over from her shifting weight. “Around here you either do what I want . . .” She turned back to indicate the gassy Harribel’s rear, a view that they would become quite familiar with soon if they did not shape up. “. . .or you get puuuniiisshhheed!” Orihime sang, smiling.

--- Beyond Punishment ---

Months or years went by in the dingy, sweltering heat of Orihime’s dungeon in Hueco Mundo. It was hard to tell just how long they had been imprisoned. Each day seemed to consist only of eating and listening to Orihime and Harribel amuse themselves with bodily noises. Rukia and Yoruichi, true to their word, resisted the corrupting influence of their one time friend. However, they were thoroughly outmatched. Days of being fed only fattening, greasy food and watching Harribel and Orihime sink to new lows began to take their toll. The pair were surrounded in a land of filth and degradation. They lived amongst piles of food and discarded plates and were inundated with the sounds of their captors' belches and gaseous expulsions. Cleanliness was forgotten, slob and uncleanliness becoming the norm. Though they tried to steel their minds against it, Rukia and Yoruichi even found their own bodies turning against them. They sweat constantly from the heat, unable to stop from joining Orihime and Harribel. Further, the lack of movement combined with the constant influx of fattening food turned their bodies to soft pudge. Day by day, week by week they felt themselves slipping away from what they had known before. Ideas of baths and sensibly portioned food were almost a fiction. Orihime, bratty princess that she was now, had been right. They would cave.

It had started with Rukia’s belch. It was an accident, a consequence of slurping down too many noodles too fast. The gas had burst from her fast and with enough strength to push a limp, oily strand of hair out of her eyes. She had been shocked and stunned into silence. She was surprised by how good the simple act felt. She had fought with herself not to give in for so long. Now, having succumbed on accident, it seemed like no big deal. Rukia even wondered what she had been fighting. She looked over at Yoruichi, who was stifling a giggle. The princess of the Shion clan had been fighting, same as Rukia, but now couldn’t suppress the humor at the situation. “Had a bit much to eat?” She asked her fellow captive. Rather than answer in words, Rukia simply burped again. Thus were the two converted.

---

“Rukia!” Orihime called, gluttonous excitement filling her voice. “Where’s my. . .BBBLLURRRUUPP. . .food?” She tried to look around, but quickly gave up. In all directions there was flab and fat. Pale but with multicolored food stains, Orihime’s fat fell out in all directions. She had finally achieved total immobility, allowed to reach the gluttonous heights she had dreamed of since converting to Aizen’s side. FFFFLLLPPPRRRTT! She let the fart slide out of her, if only so that she could feel her beanbag asscheeks move and jiggle. A wave of noxious gas enveloped her, spreading throughout the large room. “Better. . .uuuRRRUUUPP. . .come soon!” She called, blasting gas out of both ends. She fought not to cough, instead taking deep sucks from her oxygen mask. Her human biology had been great at gaining more and more weight, but was poor in dealing with it. Rapidly, the bed bound woman had deteriorated in health. Oxygen tanks, heart monitors, and various other devices ran across her body. Just as she sent her Arrancar agents out for food, she now was sending for medical treatments.

“Ooooh. . .coming. . .just. . .uuuggh. . .dealing with. . .” BRRRRRUMMMMPPPTTT. Rukia moaned, pushing the loud and wretched fart out of her ass. She had not yet totally adjusted to Orihime’s slobby lifestyle and suffered from constant stomach aches. She waddled forward, 600 pounds of fat trying to move. She pushed a cart of food, using it for stability. Each step seemed to bring more flatulence, more droplets of sweat. Underneath the food cart she had stashed an oxygen tank, a now permanent fixture of her gear. The plastic tubing wound up her robes, curling and trailing around bountiful rolls of fat. BRRRRAAAPPP. “Ohhh. . . uuugggh. . . I don’t. . .know how . . . BWWUURRRP. . .you can stand. . .it. . .Yoruichi.” Rukia wheezed as she passed by a brown blob currently licking at what she could reach of Harribel’s breasts.

“Cats don’t. . .snnnrrk. . . mind a. . .ssnoossh. . . little pampering.” Yoruichi sucked air in through her own nasal tubing. Though her body was strong enough to withstand the degradation placed upon it by her fat, she willed herself to be weaker. She loved her new lifestyle, spending every second indulging in it. She sat on her now massive ass, utterly naked. She leaned over, allowing her fat and sweat and grease to mingle with Harribel’s. She licked and suckeled at the field of rolls and grease. BRRRFFFFHHHTTT. She let her own large gouts of gas out, trying to compete with Harribel for the most wretched, lung choking release of stinking clouds. Her asscheeks, easily big enough to crush a small vehicle, clapped together languidly. Yoruichi was becoming quite proficient at using her rear for the amusement of the ladies. “Could be a. . .uuuhff. . .meal. . .ssuuussshh. . .or maybe. . .BBBLLURRRUPP. . .somehting more. . .wwhheeww. . .intimate.” Her soft tongue continued to lick and drain grease out of Harribel’s folds, the pungent taste filling her mouth. BRRRRMMMPPPTTT. She sent out a fart just as her friend passed by, nearly dousing her in the uniquely rancid smell.

BBBBLLLRRTTT. Rukia responded by sending her own gas towards the pile of tanned blubber. The expulsion helped push her towards the ultimate goal of reaching Orihime, who was turning red faced from having to wait. “Uuuugggh. . . wwwwhooo. . .ABOUT. . .uuufff. . .TIIIMEEE!” The spoiled brat called, flapping her arms up and down. She farted, warm gas spreading out underneath her voluminous body. Orihime might not have been the biggest, falling behind Yoruichi and Harribel a bit, but she was catching up quickly. She forced her body to overcome whatever human limitations had been placed upon it. “Mmmpggh. . .finally!” She reached a tired, muscle atrophied arm over to grab at the food. She poured it into her mouth as best she could, trying to soak up as many calories as possible. Whatever she ate would either turn to fat or gas, powering her for later meal and indulgences. Rukia, knowing her place, waddled over and helped to feed the immobile woman. “All for meeee!” Orihime called, loving the food raining down on her. She excitedly sucked air into her body, straining her oxygen machine for all it was worth. Rukia smiled, lifting a bowl up to the immense woman’s mouth. Orihime slurped and sucked the noodles and sauce down, letting the contents flip onto her naked body. All thoughts save for eating left her mind.

In due time, Orihime would be the fattest, she would be the slobbiest. At the cost of her sanity, cleanliness, and bodily integrity she would surpass all challengers.