Yang's Lazy Day (Patreon)

The living room was dark, the curtains shut to block the harsh morning light. The TV was playing an old action movie from the 80s with cheesy dialogue and almost overly dramatic explosions. Still it proved entertaining for the room’s sole occupant, Yang Xiao Long.

It was the last portion of winter break, and the girl had decided all of her time would be spent in lazy bliss. When her teammates tried to get her off the couch it always ended in failure, the blonde proving to be as stubborn as she was hefty. That lead to the current situation. Yang laying on her side, the rest of her team out shopping, and the promise of some Burger Hog when they got back.

It turns out Yang’s figure depended heavily on her workout routine and when she ceased all exercise aside from moving the results were…staggering. A plump hand rested in a pudgy hand, the mass of fat filling the appendage and almost bulging between sausage fingers. A double chin waggled as Yang lazily munched on popcorn, stray pieces and kernels littering the couch she basked upon. Directly below this second chin laid Yang’s breast. The blonde brawler had always been known for having a bountiful and natural chest though now the sheer size of her breast was enough to make anyone take anyone by surprise. Each reigning in at the size of a prize winning melon, and threatening to rip her orange tank top to shreds if she so much as breathed in too deeply. The vast canyon of her cleavage was on display as her massive mammaries stretched the confines of the orange fabric. A roll of fat curled over the edges while the straps sank into her soft shoulders. Yang’s breast were heavy no only for her but anyone she allowed to grasp them. A sheer size so large one hand could not grasp it, and even if the act was attempted the weight would cause them to droop around the individual’s hand. Marshmallow like blubber, soft and warm to the touch, and a magnificent sight to behold. Thanks to Yang’s seating on the couch her left breast rested on the couch cushion while the other rested atop it. The simple weight of one boob resting on the other caused it to squish into the couch.

Yang’s belly had swollen and expanded with blubber over her vacation. Burgers, pizza, burritos, fried chicken, pasta, cheese sticks, chili cheese fries, corn dogs, bacon, and anything else greasy met its end in Yang’s belly. Yang had even made it a goal to not eat anything that didn’t have either meat, grease, or cheese. This was all it took to obliterate her abs and create the bean bag chair sized bolder of blubber that was her gut. Protruding out in front of her and spilling off the edge of the couch, Yang’s fat oozed off the furniture like a marshmallow melting over a raging fire. A line was drawn through the middle of her gut, an upper roll of fat resting atop the lower one where in the center her belly button was cast into a deep shadow. A plump hand lazily scratched at the rift between the rolls. This plump hand consisted of sausage fingers and thick wrist that led up to a soft forearm, and a vast pillow-sized mass of fat that hung from her upper arms. So thick and heavy that just resting at her sides they still jutted out slightly.

The widest part of Yang was her hips, an impressive four foot width which made every doorway a struggle to pass. Still Yang had to admit she loved the feeling of being so wide. Something about occupying more space than anyone else filled her with a little pride. The thrill of feeling her hips sway and body jiggle was almost intoxicatingly pleasurable. A soft shelf of fat with a thick blubbery roll of fat resting atop it. Love handles so thick her pudgy hands could hardly grasp them. Hips and love handles were great but one thing that was even better was her butt. Overflowing her black shorts, pressing deep into the couch undoubtedly destroying the springs with her weight, and even the wooden supports were begging for mercy whenever she sifted her opinion. Beach balls of blubber that bounced, wobbled, and jiggled with not only her every step but even just casual movements sent wave like ripples across the expanse of doughy fat. Even further down were her thighs, tree trunk thick limbs that were nigh impossible to separate at this point without assuming a traditional sumo stance, which would result in whatever pants she was wearing to be annihilated mind you, so Yang had grown used to her thighs brushing together on her short trips to the kitchen or bathroom for a shower.

Yang’s entire body had undergone a metamorphosis from a fit and fierce brawler to an obese couch potato who honestly had no intention to return to the former physique. Why would she? A lazy day on the couch with fast food was a hundred times better than being a scrawny huntress.

Yes, Yang was happy as she was. A pleased smile crossing her lips, a hand lazily scratching at her gut as it let out a low growl. Yeah she was living her best life.