Extreme B/A Short: Akane's Slobby Shot At Love (Patreon)

Tags: Extreme Weight gain, Slob, Personality change, Sex




"No way! This can't be happening!" Akane Tendo said, fingers splayed across the polished floors of her family's house. Her knuckles were turning white from the pressure she exerted on the floor. It was all she could do to keep from passing out. She was currently staring into the abyss, a void from which there was no return. Akane Tendo was coming face to face with the absurdities of Male sexuality. "There is no way that Ranma could be into. . .THAT!" Akane's emotive explosion was loud enough to shake the house. Yet, her sisters seemed unphased.

"I'm afraid it's the case, Akane," Kasumi Tendo, the eldest sister, said calmly. It was truly a wonder how she managed to stay so calm all the time. Even now, holding the filthy magazine which Nabiki had found, she seemed hardly bothered. "It seems rather obvious that it's Ranma's. Right, Nabiki?"

"Sorry sis. . .it was jutting out from under his door. Must have slid there while he was cleaning," Nabiki said, trying not to enjoy the situation. She was thoroughly enjoying the fact that Ranma's darkest sexual fantasies were being revealed. Moreover, she was enjoying the fact that her sister now had to choose whether or not she would play a part in those fantasies. "It's a shame that Ranma is such a pervert. I don't think a prude like you could keep up with him." She smiled, teasing her sister.

"As if I would even want to!" The blue haired tomboy was provoked to almost violent action by the light teasing from her sister. "I would NEVER debase myself like that." She slapped the magazine away. It landed with its pages open. Images of fat, unkempt, food stained women fluttered by thanks to the open window. Ranma apparently not only liked big women, he also had a fantasy for hoggish behavior. Akane could hardly even put words to what she was seeing. There wasn't even a woman that fat in the surrounding area. It was obesity on a scale she could not process.

"Now, Akane. You really should reconsider," Kasumi said, her voice soft and feminine. "I hear many couples are experimenting these days. Changing who they are for their partner." It was a wonder how she could speak with such maturity and authority on a topic as bizarre as this. "Maybe a little nudge would be what you needed to win Ranma over. A small gesture to show your love." She smiled as if it were the most trivial matter in the world.

"It's not like you have anything to lose." Nabiki said, grabbing the magazine to leaf through it more. "Your love life is already pretty slow. Can't see how this would change it much. If anything, you might actually. . ." Nabiki had to duck as Akane took a swing.

Once again the filthy magazine flew into the air. This time, its perverted pages landed at Akane's knees. She studied the pages, feelings swirling inside her. Raw and open hostility melted into confusion. If this was what Ranma wanted, how could she refuse? What exactly was she trying to protect? Akane again grasped the floor, trying to push stress out through her palms.

"Fine! I'll give it a shot." Akane turned to face her sisters. "But you both have to help me! And it's only going to be a little weight. Hardly anything noticeable."

----

"Hey, Akane. . .Nabiki. . .Kasumi, im home!" Ranma called as he pulled the door open. It was some months later from the unfortunate discovery.  Ranma entered the Tendo house. He had been on an extended training journey, secluded away from the world to focus on his martial arts. He had little idea what had transpired at the house while he was away. With no knowledge of the sisters' discovery nor Akane's following resolution he walked into the house; blindly expecting all to be the same. It was immediately obvious that was not the case.

A swirl of smells and sounds assaulted his senses as he walked into the house. Sugary sweetness mixed with the sour smell of a gym locker room. The odor was so strong that he had to take a step back and cover his nose. While he paused, Ranma was able to survey the house more. The Tendo residence seemed hazy, like a mist had been sucked inside. It was like someone had been frying food without proper ventilation. He stepped back into the house, feeling his skin getting coated with the viscous airborne fluid. "Hellooooo? Is anyone here?" Ranma called, trying to ignore the almost choking atmosphere. He wandered through the seemingly empty house, trying to find any familiar face. "Yo, anyone here?"

"Of course. . .late as. . .usual!" Akane's voice drifted down from the stairwell. Yet, it seemed different somehow. Strained, breathy, and maybe even a bit deeper, Akane's voice seemed to echo down the stairs slowly. All the same, it was the only sign of life that Ranma had been given thus far. He wandered towards the sounds, rolling his eyes at Akane's belligerence. While used to the personalities of the three sisters, Ranma always seemed to find himself butting heads with Akane. It seemed that, despite months away from the house, the return was going to be no different. "Come. . .on. . .up!" She shouted again. Having mounted the stairs, Ranma could hear a breathy undertone to Akane's voice. It was almost like she was panting or wheezing. The dark haired man shrugged off the worried feeling that was growing in his chest. If anything, he figured, Akane had just been practicing her martial arts and was catching her breath. Yet, that explanation did little to explain everything else.

The trip up the stairs and to Akane's room brought with it more strange observations and tidings. Plates of food lined the walls along with bags of garbage yet to be taken out. Further, the smell was growing stronger. The stink of human perspiration overpowered the sweet food smell. Each step brought with it more and more hellacious assaults on his nose. Ranma had trained in many places and under many circumstances, yet he had never smelled anything this strong before. He was forced to cover his face, trying to block out the smell. All the same, there was a part of him that was excited by the smell. Ranma was both intensely curious and disgusted by the stink wafting through the air. He would drop his hand from his nose, occasionally dragging in the polluted and toxic fumes fully into his lungs. The smell was sharp and permeating.

“Could you. . . huff. . .go any. . . huuh-huuh. . . slower?” The wheezing beneath Akane’s voice was beyond doubt now. The martial artist was no stranger to exertion but this seemed deeper, more strained. It was like Akane had spent weeks or months holding up heavy weights. Even through her bratty vocalizations, he could sense the deep tiredness and yearning. “Ranmaaaa. . .get your. . .BLRRRRUUUUPP. . .skinny ass in. . .RRRUUUUPPP here!” That final yell seemed to cast a spell over Ranma. He heeded not the two belches or the mention of skinniness. Rather, he was sucked into the boisterousness and belligerence of the request. Even his father could not bark orders like that. Ranma ran the rest of the way to Akane’s room, eyes burning slightly from the movement of toxic fumes against his eyes. Not wanting to get yelled at, he threw the door open. Akane filled his sight.

Heaped upon a sagging and dirtied mattress, Akane Tendo stared at Ranma with her usual bratty petulance. Her bossy attitude and demeanor still well intact, it was the rest of her that had changed drastically. She was beyond fat, beyond obese, a category of fatness all its own and nearly unnamable. Her vast body filled the bed utterly, with sweaty hips, breasts, and love handles falling off into empty air. Her stomach surged forward, allowing for a path for the rivers of grease and sweat to travel down. Akane heaved with each strained breath she took, so fat that her face was even beginning to scrunch up. She flexed and twiddled fingers so fat that they had lost any semblance of dexterity, pure sausages resting in a blanket of overgrown palm-fat. “Bout. . .UUUHHHFFF. . .time!” She called, her fat cheeks resting on a bed of squashed chin folds. Grease and sweat poured out from her various rolls, puddling on the floor.

“Gah! Akane, what did you do to yourself?” Ranma asked, surprise overwhelming any other emotion that was in his mind, at least for the time being.

“Don’t. . .BBBLLLURRRUPPP. . .play. . .uurrrp. . .cohy. . .with me.” Akane berated her betrothed, going so far as to try and raise a heavy hand. Sweat fell out from where it had gotten trapped in arm rolls, having turned rancid from heat and pressure. “You. . .uurrrp. . .love. . thisch. . .pervert!” She wheezed, her arm shaking as long forgotten muscles tried to work. The smell in the room was renewed tenfold by the shaking of Akane’s fat filled arm. Her biceps swang, dropping like a curtain to fold over her sloping side-gut. “This. . .is for. . .you!” She finally dropped her arm. It landed with a splat on her belly. Her body shook from the epicenter, ripples moving outwards in slow and turgid patterns. To fully underscore her point, Akane tried her best to lean to the side, straining long forgotten muscles. Her body, filled with processed gas, seemed to inflate for just a second; filling outwards as something truly magnificent was summoned from the depths of her stomach.

FRRRMMMBBBBPPT!

The show of grand finality and flatulence blew Ranma off of his feet, almost literally. He staggered back, overcome more by this than any blow he had ever suffered while training or competing. The smell of gas was overwhelming, filling his lungs. He coughed, fanning a strong arm in front of his face. “Oh God! Akane!” Ranma doubled over. “What happened to you?” He asked, elbows on his knees. He tried to keep his face low, trying to hide a growing excitement. He did not care how it had happened, he was not interested in whether his bride was cursed or under the influence of magic. He simply wanted to experience her bulk, her slob, and her sweat. At the same time, the headstrong man was not going to reveal himself. If he let Akane know that he was into that kind of lewd behavior he would never hear the end of it. It was the sort of thing she could hang over him for a lifetime. And imbalance that would permeate their marriage. “Why did you decide to just give up?”

“Hey!” BBBRRRRMMMMPPPTTT! Akane hadn’t intended to fart again, but the gas rocketed out of her dimply, beanbag buttcheeks as she lost control of her temper. “I. . .did this. . .for you!” She yelled and wheezed, her foul body rocking back and forth on her too small bed. “Pervert!” She cried, her tantrum cut short by a lack of strength. While her willpower to be a brat and torture Ranma was as strong as ever, her body could no longer keep up. She flopped down into herself, allowing her folds to spread to the very corners of the bed. The fat around Akane’s shoulders, chest, and face was enough to build an entire person out of; to say nothing of the 10 or so people that could be made from the rest of her. She looked down at her oozing, spreading folds and burbled a question out. “Don’t you like it?” While now a slob, unchained from the laws of decency, she was still a woman after all. A woman whose heart yearned for a certain person.

“No.” Ranma tried to be resolute in his judgement, but found his resolve crumbling. “Well, I think it’s nice you have a bit more of a chest.” Perhaps owing to his other, cursed female side, he could play the tsundere just as much as Akane.

Sensing weakness, Akane probed further. “You’re. . .just. . . afraid. Couldn’t handle. . .BBBLLLURRRUPP. . .all of this!” Akane fondled one of her breasts. She pawed and slapped at it ungainly. Despite how fat her hoof a hand was, she did little to grasp the overripe fruit hanging from her chest. Akane’s tits surged outward, flopping into open space. The gap between them provided a perfect place for her to rest her bowls of food and the hose of her feeding pump. She had more success with this ploy. Ranma inched closer to her,  a clear look of interest crossing his face. “Too much. . .oooohh. . .” BBBLLLUMMPPPPTT. “. . .woman for the cursed martial artist.” She smiled, trying to push his buttons as best she could. “Maybe. . .we should. . .ooh. . .pour some spring. . . water on you. . .let your. . . other side. . .work.” The immobile, obese pile of womanly rolls giggled. She knew that Ranma would either give in or flee the room. Emasculation being the ultimate trump card for foreplay. She guessed rightly.

Ranma’s clothes flew off. He could not say how they were removed, simply that they were missing and he was running dick first into a pile of sweaty lard. Akane gushed as her massive body was heaved upwards. Decades of martial ability now poured into pleasing her and relieving the sexual tension that had been building within the ponytailed man. He had to strain at first, his large cock fighting past thigh and stomach blubber to reach Akane’s sex. What he found was perfect, utterly spotless despite the degradation she had put the rest of her body through. Ranma thrust himself deeply into her, holding the avalanche of belly fat back with his arms. He felt like he could hold up the entire earth and, given her weight, was nearly doing so. Akane moaned and gasped, feeling her body go into a sex-driven overdrive of sorts. Sweat poured down her body, bringing with it a wet-stink. The room was renewed with the smells of gas, grease, and other bodily fluids. Yet, the two love birds were beyond happy.

They made love for hours, much to the chagrin of the rest of the house.