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Diana listened for the familiar sound of the waves lapping against the shore. She strained her ears but the only sounds she could hear was the pounding of her heart and the even breaths she was producing. According to the research and locals she’d talked to, this meant she was nearing her destination. The wealth she’d amassed and spent, the family and friends she’d abandoned, the life she was leaving behind, all of it doing nothing to send even a moment’s hesitation to her purposeful strides.

The blasted heath that amounted to the native plants on this island, or so she assumed, was giving way to crumbled columns and cracked marble. Some great temple or palace was once here but as her feet went from dirt to the marble, it was obvious no one lived here presently. Just the barest hint of wind and her own breathing now to keep the architecture company. Pressing past the ruins, feet once more on dirt, Diana’s pulse quickened as she heard a mighty squeal just beyond the upcoming hill. Running as fast as she could, Diana crested the rise and saw a wild expanse of heath as far as the eye could see. Just at the bottom of the hill though, the scenery was consumed by mud and a huge mass of a sow. Caressing this sow was a woman with dark hair hanging nearly past her calves. Her face was Hellenic in its beauty, but even more lovely than any model Diana had seen. Curls of her hair framed this vision before her, the locks more wild than the heath all around this muddy nook, her nudity not at all distracting, the bareness of her complimenting the animal she had been touching as much as her skin tone empathized with the mud underneath them all. The eyes this woman possessed made Diana gasp, the colors that made up their pigment shifting, metamorphosing with every breath that escaped her lips. Purple, gold, brown, dark, ochre, grey, and on and on they marched across her corneas.

The woman sighed, an exhale the tale of ages. “If you are standing before me than you know who, and what, I am.” Diana nodded, joy filling her that the end of her long search was nearing.

“The goddess Circe.”

Circe let out a snort at that, porcine in every aspect save the fact that it came from a human nostril instead of a snout. “Such was my title millennia ago, when human thought and legend gave birth to me and my kind. A belief I began and a fiction I became. I have lived as your tales portrayed me, turning men and women to swine and other creatures, taking Odysseus’s men and changing them, falling to his cunning. I relived those moments again and again, until the belief turned to myth, my palace diminishing, those I had changed leaving, save for my dear Adrasteia wallowing behind me. Her belief is the only link I have to this life. Once she passes, and there is nothing eternal here or elsewhere, I will cease to be. You have traveled all this way to witness the ending of the imprint of countless stories.”

“The only ending I want is the human body I’ve lived with for the past fifty years. Please, make me a sow. I can become another link for you, if such is your desire. Just turn me into a pig!”

Circe’s eyes widened at the sincerity in the mortal’s voice, but soon enough nodded, walking away from the sow and approaching Diana. Her left hand sifted through the shoulder-length blond hair Diana had, fingers ghosting along the skin. “I can sense the power of your desire, your belief.” Circe’s blood was thrumming with the energy her touch had transferred to her from the mortal. Long-closed passages within her body reopened, the power everywhere around her and the mortal who had sought her out. She could twist the human shell before her, shaping it into a fine swine, but she sensed the wrongness of that method. “No simple wave of my hands will do. Something…linked, yes?”

“I just want to be a pig, I don’t care how!” Diana exclaimed, pulse racing as her desire was so close, so very, very close, to fulfillment.

“So your lips say but your true self wants a process; slow, physical, primal. AH!” Circe straightened as a solution presented itself, turning her head to look at the mud all around, Adrasteia snorting and squealing, rolling her bulk over to present a truffle fully formed. Pulling the fungi gently from the ground, Circe directed all the power the belief gave her into the foodstuff. The truffle synched with the energy filling it and she realized just how it had come to be beneath her Adrasteia. “A link,” she whispered softly, placing the truffle in her mouth and chewing neatly. Not a crumb escaped her lips, but she didn’t swallow, mouth full, cheeks bulging as she turned her attention back to the mortal. A few steps and a lean combined their lips as she kissed for all she was worth, the chewed truffle and the power it was born from/contained entering the mortal flesh. Circe felt the vibration of the human swallowing tingle her lips before she broke apart.

The mortal’s dark eyes widened as she fell to her knees, head lolling backwards, gazing up at the stars overhead. Circe approached, getting on her own knees, bringing the mortal close, sweat pouring from her with every moment that passed until suddenly the pores ceased their production. The woman’s head snapped straight again, eyes boring into Circe’s, arms moving to remove the clothes entrapping her body, but Circe caught the manic limbs, humming softly. “There, there, my sow, shhhh, calm yourself.” Tan skin was turning pink, ears shifting position and size as they became porcine, wriggling here and there as sound itself was enhanced.

“The…the wish I whispered all those years ago…it’s coming true…oh….OINK!” Circe watched as the nostrils expanded, the base widening, a snout the only thing the cartilage before her could be called as it extended. The breaths became snorts, more oinks escaping, excited bursts of noise increasing in volume as her sow watched fingers shrink into nothingness, hooves replacing hands.

“Of course it is. You believed and I answered, my beautiful sow. Tell me. What do you see? You have eyes. What do your eyes see?” Diana stared at Circe, the goddess still the same as when she found her. But she could see after a moment’s concentration the bare skin turning pink, the nose a snout, the hair gone, the body swelling, gaining, expanding, flesh upon flesh, arms and legs shortening. “What do you smell with your snout?” The excited snorts became questing, a foul, no not foul, lovely, stench wafting from Circe’s bottom, coating the curly tail, the obese frame, everywhere around. Including her, Diana realized. She clenched her shifting innards, the flatulence roaring from her now porcine rear no longer human. Her own stench was nothing compared to Circe’s but she could feel it joining Circe’s scent.

“I smell us. All of us,” Diana answered, inhaling sharply, taking in as much as she could as she detected Adrasteia’s unique odor. The clothes she had come here in were rags, the blond hair she had once sported joining the bits of torn clothing in the mud. She was completely bare and nearing the end of her transformation. Her innards were the last bit of her to shift, some parts vanishing completely while others changed position within her wide body.

Circe was fully a pig as well, squealing and grunting with what Diana recognized was pure glee, Circe’s snout nuzzling into her. The disparity between the colossal sow that was Circe and Diana’s plump pig body was enough to make that nuzzle a shove as Diana ended on her side. Adrasteia let out a squeal/snort combination that Diana realized was laughter. It took a few moments but eventually she was upright again, on all fours and moving about tentatively, feeling the mud beneath her trotters, finally feeling in her own skin since the day she realized she did not want to be human anymore. The liberation of no longer keeping up pretenses, of dates with women of all sorts, functions and galas, societal norms and memes, none of it mattered now. She was a sow and the squeal she gave caused Circe to move closer, gently nuzzling her this time.

“There’s my beautiful sow. But I cannot call you sow for the time remaining to us, however long that may be.” Diana moved around Circe’s vast body, sniffing at her rear, imbibing of a fresh burst of her gas, coming around again to her front, nuzzling in return where she wanted, and finally ending up before the goddesses’s eyes. “Agape, I shall call you. My beautiful Agape, I welcome and adore you.” Agape touched her snout to Circe’s, hoping to communicate with her body language what she could no longer say. “I love you as well and I suppose I am your Circe now, aren’t I? As much as you are my Agape and a part of us also belongs to our Adrasteia, right dear one?” Circe turned towards Adrasteia then, the sow on her feet and moving closer, Agape noticing again how much smaller she was to her Adrasteia and how both were like gnats to the universe compared to their Circe. Adrasteia squealed, pressing Agape’s snout. Circe laid on her side then, liquid sustenance dripping from the teats she presented, the scent driving Agape forward, tongue latching, throat sucking as much as she could. The liquid filling her was ambrosia, pure and simple. Adrasteia joined her, Circe grunting and squealing with such contentment the sound surpassed the pure sustenance they were receiving.

The last images of what exactly Agape had been trapped as dissipated when she pulled her sated form off the teat, lying down and resting her body against Circe, eyes closing as she began to slumber. Circe did not sleep, the two links she now possessed and adored firmly bound to her very being, the ending she had long accepted kept at bay, giving her more time to enjoy the simple pleasures of the ages ahead.
Seeking Circe
A pig TF story. Let me know what you think and I own nothing in this story.

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1. Kill La Kill

Satsuki Kiryuin surveyed the board of directors she had picked to aid her in reforming REVOCS image worldwide. The effort had been monumental, the results nothing short of miraculous, a word Satsuki could not have taken seriously eight years ago, when she was fighting her mother at her sister’s side. But peacetime, and allowing her emotions to blossom around her sister, her now sister-in-law, and her dear Nonon, had brought forth an entirely unexpected, but not unwelcome metamorphosis. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathed in the slightly higher than room temperature, savored the taste of her own odors in the air, and exhaled. Her gut pushed out at the force of her exhale, the barest edge of it neatly tightening the bottom four buttons on her business suit jacket. A jacket she had brushed free of the crumbs and sauce stains that had made up lazy patterns just under an hour ago during her lunch. Though if one had a  discerning eye, and she knew there were many such people in this room, they would see the stains of her perspiration coming in around the general area of her upper arms and the pits coated by aprons of quivering flab.
She tried to imagine seeing herself through their eyes. The disgust, the sheer incredulity of so much weight gathered around her rear end, the watering around the edges of her chief financial officer’s eyes as she cut loose with a trumpeting gout of flatulence. The ringing in the ears of her wheezes and pants as she waddled around one half of the table, hunching over, tubby digits sinking into her gut as she huffed and puffed great gasps of warm, smelly, breath. Imagining the stench of the stuff to the unprepared, like the youngest woman on her board, the blond coughing and waving her hand in front of her face. Satsuki stops behind this young woman, allows her suited belly to rest on her shoulders and is very pleased that there is not one single shudder of revulsion on her part. She nods towards the eldest member of the board, offering him a small smile before moving away and completing her circuit of the table.
Bracing herself as she stands in her usual dominating pose, she readies her speech. “My beloved coworkers, long have you toiled for the betterment of this company and for the restructuring of the world in the wake of Ragyo Kiryuin’s mad ambition. I stand here today to once again assert that I am not my mother. I enjoy life, love the complexities and foibles that make up the great mass of humanity we help clothe and those we will never interact with. My fortune is your fortune, my bounty your reward. I understand my appearance has been the subject of mockery in the business world, my old adage thrown back in my face. Pigs in human clothing. A fitting description of my body now, no? I wish to offer each of you a chance to show just what a group of pigs can do for the betterment of our lives, of our families lives, and the lives of every one of our customers!” She raised a fat arm then, motioning with obese digits for the other table behind to be uncovered. The cornucopia of food and the scents emanating from them banished her own foul odors from nearly every corner of the room. “Eat, make merry, gorge yourselves from this day onward and when your appetites are spent, when your very body requires the most expansive of our products, push beyond your limits and then return with fresh eyes to the pleasures your hard work has ensured and the continuation of said labors. EAT NOW AND SHOW THAT CLOTHING CANNOT HOLD HUMANITY EVER AGAIN!”
Nearly as one her board rose, some staying still, more of them making their way towards the spread Satsuki had provided, the woman pleased that the blond she had rested her gut on was the first to the table and the first to pile her plate as high as possible. Smiling warmly, she watched as the first of many began her path towards charting a new course for the REVOCS corporation and hopefully one that would lead towards a happier, safer, and far more peaceful humanity.

2. Outlaw Star

Suzuka glared down at the stubborn bit of flesh impeding her from fully putting on her recently expanded hakama. Sighing at the very notion of getting mad at a part of her own body, Suzuka instead let the ends of her belt go, belly hanging free. Closing her eyes, she began to meditate, letting go of the heavy body she had inhabited for the past year and a half, ignoring the craving for more of Aisha’s Ctarl-Ctarl delicacies, putting aside the self-recrimination at allowing herself to get soft, and finally putting aside the self as she flowed through the expanse of what her master had called the true path. Here she allowed herself to drift for a good half hour, her breathing calm, pulse steady, and mind sedate. Opening her dark eyes, she grabbed her bokken and began running through the katas her master had bestowed upon her.
One, two, three, Suzuka mentally counted as she cut a side-slash, then a riposte, and finally a double cut before returning to her neutral starting position. The chafing of her thighs brought mild annoyance, the sense of fatigue following not ten minutes later irked, but she paid those no mind as she continued her day’s training. A few hot blasts of flatulence tooted and squeaked their way into existence, joining the heady and dizzying foulness of Suzuka’s body odor but she ignored this too, turning the noises and stenches of her own body into a sparring partner. A cut along a fart’s invisible form, a wheel of her bokken, wrists turning the blade over and over again, flabby flesh embracing flabby flesh against  the oncoming wall of perspiration. The woman pushed herself off the ground with a mighty cry, the sensation of all her fat jostling and shaking as she fell back to the ground with a titanic blow, Suzuka finally ended her workout, a large tearing from the back of her hakama showing any and all her bare rear, coming to her ears.        
A whisper of motion to the left and rear is all the warning Suzuka gets before her friend ambushes her, Aisha reaching out with her hands for a big embrace. Suzuka dodges slightly, allowing the majority of Aisha’s hug to hit her. The strength, and weight, of Aisha causes the both of them to crash to the ground, Aisha on top.
“I got you Suzu!”
“Indeed you did and if your treats weren’t responsible for slowing my movements down you would never have succeeded.”
“Not my fault you’re letting yourself go!”
“Not entirely your fault you mean,” Suzuka replied, smiling at the sight of Aisha’s twitching eyebrows.
“It is so your fault! You’ve become a real pig, Suzu!”
“A pig you cuddle with at night.”
“Helps you’re so soft,” Aisha replied, getting to her feet and reaching out a hand to help Suzuka up. “Now I bet you’re starving, huh?”
“A fat woman hungry after a workout, who would have guessed?” Suzuka deadpanned.
“Just c’mon, Melfina’s cooking us up a feast!” Suzuka nodded at that and followed along with her friend towards the dining area of the Outlaw Star. As they entered, the swordswoman spotted the slightly chubby form of Melfina, the android’s fat, friendly face beaming at the pair of them. Suzuka gave thanks for the meal and Melfina’s cooking talents. The three feasted, the end of the meal punctuated with a massive fart, silencing Aisha’s exuberance at getting three whole lobsters to herself. Suzuka took in Melfina’s blushing face, the slight parting of her lips indicating she was about to be her honest, kind self.
“I am not apologizing for that,” Suzuka announced, ceding control to the gas within her and putting effort into forcing out a fart that eclipsed Melfinas. “Consider that a testament to your skills, Melfina, it usually takes quite the culinary talent to slip past the muscles of my bowels.”
“T-thank you,” Melfina replied, bowing a bit. Aisha, for her part, was laughing and chortling louder than her usual pleased self.
“Suzuka, you total pig you! I know what words to say now to call you to dinner! Soo-ee! Here, have the rest of my plate too. I wanna see if you can top what you just did!”
Suzuka sighed, shook her head at her friend’s wild personality, but did nothing to stop the wide smile taking over her face as she opened her mouth and let Aisha begin to feed her. She took note of just how much Aisha was shoving into her and calculated just how much of the dessert Melfina had no doubt prepared she needed to pay her closest friend back for the delight she was taking in racking up the tailor’s expenses she’d need to expand her hakama for the twenty fifth time since the end of Hazanko’s evil.

3. Black Lagoon

Revy swore as the sunlight stabbed into her half open eyes, the woman rolling over and basking in a loud fart that brought a pleased smile to her lips as she heard Rock coughing heavily. “Morning dipshit! That’s what you get for waking me up early!”
“It’s almost four in the afternoon.”
A fat hand had her lefthand gun cocked and aimed at Rock’s groin before the man realized the blob that was Revy’s left arm hadn’t just been quivering from the aftershock of her flatulence. “Keep telling me what time it is and say goodbye to your pecker. Now leave my fucking room!” She waited for the door to shut or his legs to push through the sea of discarded bullet magazines, stained clothes, and empty food cartons that made up the majority of her room, her bed no exception. Sitting up when she didn’t hear either noise, her multiple rolled gut squishing together as she moved, a raunchy burp flying from her lips, Revy glared. “Don’t tell me you get off on my fat ass. Because that’s clearly the only fucking reason you’re still in my room when I told you in plain English to scram. Now are you going to admit you’re a fucked up perv or am I letting my guns start talking in lead?”
“We both know you’re not going to shoot me. I’m just making sure you were still here. Last time you went on a bender you nearly got us kicked out of Roanapur. Plus Benny’s ordering pizza from New York again. I wanted to make sure you could put in your order.”
“Well I’m clearly just dandy, Rock, now get out of my room and next time you wake me up before I’m ready to get up you better have that shirt I bought you on so you can at least be buried in something with fucking class. Tell Benny he better get five supreme pies with extra meat or I’ll piss on his hard drives.”
“Understood and next time I’ll have the shirt on.” He left shortly after that, Revy eventually getting to her feet and shutting the blinds on her window, panting from how much effort it took to lift her arms up. Sitting back down on her bed, she fished around for a half day old carton of General Tso’s, sinking her teeth in and deciding that she’d go check in on Benny and Rock in nothing but her underwear. The looks on their faces would be fucking amazing, she thought to herself. Mind made up, Revy tossed the still halfway full carton back into the sea of trash and got to her feet. Scratching her ass, ignoring the stench from her stained panties, she made her way out of her apartment, but not before grabbing her gun holsters and securing both weapons.
Waddling down the hallway, Revy’s right eye twitched at the out of order sign on the elevator, opening her mouth and cursing so loud she was certain that chubby bitch Eda heard it in her fucking church.
Slob Drabbles 2
I own nothing in this story. I tried my best not to include any overt romantic or pure eating scenes in this set of drabbles. Let me know how I did.

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Claire Redfield offered her longtime friend a warm smile from across the booth the pair were sitting in.  It was a smile Moira Burton returned before idly tapping her fingers along the smooth surface of the table.
“So are we waiting to eat or what?” Claire asked.
“You're not gonna say anything? Barry, I mean Dad, didn't put you up to this? Because Mom's been on my ass to start working out more and then out of the blue you invite me to a buffet? There has to be more going on here.” Claire shook her head and took in the changed Moira Burton. Their shared experience on the island had given Moira a survivor's eyes, sharp and hard. The rest of her though, particularly around her face and what little Claire had managed to see of the young woman's stomach, had definitely softened. A ring of flesh around the outer edges of her face, cheeks round and full, Moira was certainly not the gangly young woman from the incident two years ago. Still, despite the sharpness of her gaze Claire detected a cry for assurance, much like the moments shortly after they escaped the prison and the young woman had needed her to give a slight push to show that she had what it took to survive.
She reached out a hand to stop the idle tapping, gently squeezing Moira's hand. “Let's eat, Moira.”

Moira felt her stomach churn under the load of carbs and high-calorie crud she'd shoved past her lips for the past hour, pressing firmly into her stomach and grateful that she'd undone the button on her shorts. “BURURRAAAAP! Ah, damn, that feels so fucking good!” She smiled at the release of pressure and stared at Claire. “Didn't know you had it in you, old lady!”
Claire sent a mock glare her way and hunched over a bit, rubbing her taut stomach. “Ugh...guess I can still eat like a teenager.”
“I'm twenty one, thank you very much. Now think you still have room for dessert?” Moira smirked as Claire's face turned a tad pale but she was surprised when her former boss nodded her head firmly.
“Bring it on.”

Claire burped with her lips closed, tasting the remains of dessert and about five or six plates worth of buffet junk in the hot vapors that coated the inside of her mouth as she unlocked the door to her apartment. The things I do for the people in my life, Claire thought to herself, sitting down on the couch and doing her best to aid her overtaxed middle with a few soothing rubs of her left palm. Sighing, she looked up at the ceiling and wondered how Sherry would react to this reassuring Moira diet. She'd never made any bad comments to the bits of cellulite and leftover holiday pounds that had crept up on her over the years yet her blond lover never said anything about when they vanished either after a few months in the gym. Pressing down, Claire vented out her rear, her stench wafting around her as she waited for Sherry to get home, closing her eyes and very grateful that she had chosen a pair of pants without any buttons or clasps to undo.
Several hours later, Claire was gently shook awake, the woman looking into the familiar eyes of Sherry Birkin. “Hey you,” Sherry murmured.
“Hey, I'm glad you're home.”
“Me too, but do you mind if I crack a window open, it kind of stinks.” Claire blushed at that but nodded, a slight tremor from her stomach suddenly turning into another gust of flatulence, warming the edges of Claire's rear and rising up to foul the atmosphere of the apartment even more. “What's this all about Claire?”
Claire explained, cracking the window forgotten about, Sherry's hands at first wringing together slightly and then her right gently running along Claire's exposed middle, the other sifting through red hair. “That's what this is about. I'm not going to be the woman you fell in love with for very much longer as I keep this up. I understand if you don't want to live with a chubby gasbag anymore- Sherry was suddenly kissing her, tongue parting her surprised lips easily.
“I'll stay. I'll stay and I'll help. I always did want to take up cooking and now I have the perfect taste-tester!”
“You won't be bothered by me getting larger?”
“Fatter, Claire, you're going to be getting fatter. Why would I be bothered? I love you, Claire, fat or lithe; smelly or not. So are you sure you're going to do this?”
Claire nodded. “Until I feel Moira's finally happy.” Sherry resumed kissing her, Claire now returning the kiss, both gasping for air as they parted. “I think I've got room for more, if we still have that ice cream left in the freezer.” She'd never seen the particular gleam in Sherry's eyes, or heard her girlfriend squeal with glee quite like now as she scooted off her and ran towards the kitchen. But as she saw and heard both, Claire decided she'd made the right choice.

Moira grunted heavily as she managed to get herself into a sitting position on her bed, the carpet in her room cool on her feet as she put them both flat on the ground. She looked down at the pale apron of a gut she called her stomach, hands going to the bare skin jiggling more and more each day. Kneading it, Moira smirked at the gurgling roar that escaped her gut, shoving herself to a standing position. Her pores broke under a wave of perspiration, her natural odor joining the frequent flatulence and belching habits she'd developed  in the nearly two months since Claire's impromptu buffet session.
She took a deep whiff of the air, cringing a bit but not totally overwhelmed by her own stench. Compared to the crazy BOW's she'd run across on the island, her stink was small time. Taking a few tentative steps outside the bedroom, thighs pressing, more like sagging against one another, she quickened the pace as she thought about just how much food remained in her fridge. The thought sent both a shiver of slight annoyance and anticipation. She hadn't set out to become this fat woman in the weeks and months since returning to civilization with her dad and Claire but then had come her first welcome back dinner with her family. The sensation of glutting herself and the approval from her family at doing so drove her on that evening to gorge. Then had come finding a new place to live and to start over after her life had been derailed by the machinations of a madwoman. The funds Terra Save provided for mental and physical torment were plenty and she had enough stowed away to ensure she was comfortable for the rest of her life. After the hustle and bustle of finding a place, she found nothing to do but sit around and indulge the appetite she'd discovered. An appetite that roared as she approached the fridge. Opening it, blinded a bit by the light, Moira reached out with tubby digits for the first item she could find. Meeting something solid, she pulled out a bag of leftover fast food.
The first burger tasted divine and was gone in four bites, bits of congealed ketchup and cold cheese falling from her mouth as she munched away. The bits scattered across the bare breasts, a few staying but most falling off, sliding down her gut. Most ended up wedged between her brown-stained panties, rubbing against her skin as she reached down in the bag for cold fries and another burger.
Ketchup and mustard stained her mouth as Moira shoved as much of the next burger as she could into her maw. Fries met their end between her teeth and she grunted, snorting a bit as she swallowed a large lump of cold food, forcing herself to swallow as fast as she could. URRRRUM! She pounded her chest a few times, opening her mouth to spray out more bits of chewed food and a jet of hot air. She looked deeper into the fridge, eyes gleaming as she spied some cake in the very back. Reaching past the bags and bits of half-eaten treats, Moira got on her knees, her rear causing her extra large panties to sink down, exposing the middle of her butt-crack to the kitchen air. “C'mere you fucking cake! There!” Moira beamed as she stared at her prize, holding chunks of the cake in both hands, the scattered entrails of the rest of it smudging along the rails of the fridge shelving.
Bringing her hands up, she took as big a bite as she could. A gusty PRRRUURMFPH blasted from her rear as she finished with one hand, licking along her right palm to lap up what crumbs remained. The left hand wasn't far behind and soon enough her hands were stained with chocolate crumbs, frosting, and bits of lukewarm ice cream that had made up the cake's innards. Moira sank down onto her butt, not caring that she was smearing it with cake crumbs, blots of ketchup and mustard, or the bits of cold fries she had devoured most of. What she did care about was the bottom level of the fridge and the three large boxes of pizza just waiting for her to reach out and grab. Her smile widened as she remembered that two of those boxes were full.
An hour later, at two in the morning, Moira Burton waddled her way back into bed, staining her sheets with the remains of her midnight snack. She was stuffed, barely managing to get the sheets around the majority of her body before the first massive fart made its presence known. Moira groaned and pulled the covers over her head, breathing deeply of her own stink as a few more bouts of flatulence roared into being and finally fell asleep, the sweat cooling on her nearly nude body as her odors lulled her into a content slumber.

Claire lumbered into the kitchen, a bit pleased at the rattling her heavy footsteps caused the plate and mug Sherry had set out along with the list for that day. The list had been Claire's idea, partly because she didn't want Sherry constantly at her beck and call cooking up a storm. So she gave Sherry a list of her favorite foods and Sherry came up with a course of delectable items for Claire to eat by the time her blond lover came home. As Claire waddled to the fridge, she took in the massive, hazy, reflection in the stainless steel door.
The expansive love-handles that were causing even her largest pair of XL sweatpants to tighten up whenever she so much as moved a leg, the rear end that was devouring panties about as fast as she could clear a plate, the latest panties she had on the largest size before she'd have to get her underthings custom-made. Her stomach, once a smooth, dome-like mound of flesh was now breaking up like Pangaea; three rolls with each overtaking the one above it. Her breasts, two mounds that were almost like mini-guts of their own, sagging into apronesque piles. Finally she stopped at her face, knowing the reflection's blur mirrored her steady gaze, peering from a cocoon of fat that made up her cheeks and two chins that she now had. She was certain there was some chocolate sauce around her lips from the dipped strawberries Sherry had fed her a couple nights ago. A few light pants escaped her lips as she raised an arm towards the fridge and pulled out the first covered meal.
Carrying the food back towards the table, Claire opened it and found the first dish on the list: Fettuccine Alfredo with chicken in the noodles and sauce. She picked up her fork and swirled a hefty chunk of the pasta in a few turns of her wrist, bringing the cold, dripping mass of food to her lips. Opening her mouth wide, Claire shoved the majority of the noodles into her mouth, chewing roughly, gobs of sauce falling to stain around her breasts, trails going down from there to land on her stomach. The taste was incredible, her Sherry now so much better at cooking than the first meals had been just under four months ago. Claire moaned in pleasure as she filled herself with the first meal, the pasta sating her appetite but not her hunger. She was sweating more now, the perspiration dripping from her like the alfredo sauce from her breasts. Her stink fouled the air as she let loose a few bursts of gas from her butt, inhaling deeply.
Once she'd had her fill of her own stink, Claire got to her feet and pulled out the rest of the list,  taking a few trips. By the time she had it all out, the woman opted to combine everything Sherry had made into one giant combination, tossing the fork aside. She considered what she was about to do. The months of pigging out, lack of exercise, of forgoing showers, baths, shaving, and brushing her teeth had all let to this. She had started this for Moira, Claire had told herself, but as the months had gone on, as Sherry had shown appreciation for her growing form and all her various smells, at the way her body hair had started to grow in great patches in her armpits and along her legs, she realized that she was doing this for herself and for Sherry. She'd barely spoken to Moira in all this time and hadn't even seen the young woman. There was just eating, making love to Sherry, stinking up the house with her gas, and sleeping. Gaze still calm as she looked down at her obese figure, at the sauce stains, at the treasure trail just below her belly button, and the pores that secreted her foul body odor along every inch of her, Claire made her decision.
Opening her mouth, she lowered her face into the mound of food and started chewing, grunting and snorting a bit as she picked up the pace. There were burgers, fries, Brussels sprouts, salmon, baked beans, bread rolls, and half a pecan pie topped with half melted chocolate ice cream. Claire didn't take her time, didn't savor the meals as she downed bit after bit of them. Her second chin was coated in a mishmash of sauces and chunks of food, outdoing the earlier stains of chocolate and alfredo sauce. Her face was red, her heart pumping wildly as she drove herself to eat all of the food, not caring about the mess she made as she shoved her body further against the table. In her frenzy, she caused the plate to move with her face as it was buried in the stuff, requiring more shoving. Her often-worn, seldom-washed panties, stained with flecks of yellow in front and brown in back, rode down her rear, showing off her cavernous butt-crack as Claire groaned at the taste of all the foods, a rumble from her guts becoming a deep PBBBRAAFFFFFFFFT of sound that made the youngest Redfield moan with desire.
She was a fat slob, a total pig, and growing in a way she'd never considered before. But now that she was here, she didn't want it to stop and she couldn't wait for Sherry to get back so she could tell her all about her new self-image.

Sherry arrived home a little after two, careful not to make a sound as she made her way towards the bedroom. But the foul stench coming from the kitchen, a stench she'd come to recognize as Claire, drew her steps that way instead. Once inside, she smiled warmly at the sight before her. Her Claire, passed out on an empty plate, drool escaping her food-stained lips as a trumpet of flatulence came into being shortly afterward. Approaching her slumbering lover, Sherry noticed every bit of food she'd cooked was gone. Gently shaking Claire, Sherry found herself covered in a few stray flecks of spit and some crumbs from her girlfriend's massive meal. But her smile never wavered. “Hey Claire.” A grunt was Claire's response. “Enjoy the food?”
“Yesh,” Claire replied. “Made me realize I'm gonna get so big and fat Sherry. It's not for Moira anymore but for me. Sound good?”
“Sounds great, now let's get you to bed, okay?”
“'Kay...” Sherry pulled with all her might, with minimal help from her still lethargic lover, but eventually managing to get her to her feet. Helping her along as they made their way to the bedroom, Sherry took in Claire's BO and the other smells her overtaxed digestive system poured out. She was pretty sure half her shirt was coated in Claire's sweat by the time they made it to bed. Sherry considered changing out of them but Claire was hugging her too tightly, the opportunity wasn't going to present itself, unless she wanted to wake Claire up again. So Sherry closed her eyes, smile faltering a bit as a tiny toot of gas left her rear, a result of the fast food, donuts, and coffee that had made up her meals today at the office. At least no one was awake to hear it, she decided, her last thought being if Claire had heard it at all and what her reaction would be if she did.

Claire found the cool evening air a bit pleasant against her sweaty figure, but a larger part of her found it unnerving. She wasn't used to fresh air much these days. Her retirement from Terra Save and subsequent settlement money, accepted only after the evening Sherry helped her back into bed, ensured that she'd be wanting for nothing anymore. Claire could just hear the thrum of Sherry's car engine as she drove away, the youngest Redfield turning her attention back to the house she'd be staying in for the weekend.
Moira had chosen a simple, cozy-looking house with no extra stories. The outside was painted a lovely shade of robin's egg blue and Claire found herself thinking of Sherry's eyes and the way they'd brighten up after she watched her unleash a massive fart, plow through a buffet aisle's worth of food, or ripped another pair of custom-made clothes. Which reminded Claire about the precarious nature of the clothing she'd chosen for the visit. The strain her obese body was causing the back of her pants and the  front of the shirt became obvious to her a day ago but she was also in the middle of lunch at the time so she paid it no mind. The mustard stain along the right shoulder of the red fabric and the barbeque sauce marring the lower right of the brown khaki's stood out but Claire had a feeling Moira wouldn't care. The angel on the front of her shirt, armor clad and carrying a battleaxe, was also coated in a mixture of dried sweat, drool, and some brownish/blue mixture that she couldn't be bothered to remember exactly what food it had come from. Putting one foot in front of the other, she waddled her way towards the front door and rang the doorbell.  
Thirty minutes later the door opened and Claire couldn't help but gape at the sight of Moira Burton. The older woman was certain Moira had more belly and chest than she did and that was saying something these days. All of her front-facing flab hung downwards like a taut bungee cord, jiggling a bit as she jostled forwards just a bit. Moira's face was no exception, as it flowed downward like water down the side of a rock, her brown eyes radiating pride and confidence as she looked into Claire's own. “Damn Claire, I think you're a bigger fat ass than me!”
“With more cellulite too, though you'll definitely be catching up on that front as you age,” Claire replied, noting Moira's skin, aside from a few red rashes and pimples here and there, was nearly as clear as Sherry's.
“We'll have to compare in a few years then now come in! But first, close your eyes and say ah!” Claire did so, embracing the tingling feeling that started at the base of her spine and was very pleased as a salty, deep-fried chunk of fast food was shoved into her mouth. There was chicken, melted cheese, and bacon in the meal, Claire letting loose a low moan at the taste. “Thanks for that, I've been having nothing but home-cooked meals for days and while it's good, I really needed this weekend.” Moira nodded and waddled ahead, giving Claire a peek at her rear end and the heavy brown stain visible through the XXL blue jeans she was wearing.
“Bitching shirt, by the way,” Moira said, drawing Claire's attention away from the back fat in front of her was starting to match Moira's belly in drooping.
“Yeah, I figured it was time to let it out of the closet. I have a few more like it, so if you want to borrow any, let me know.”
“Alright, now just...huff...through the hallway here and ta-da!” Moira gestured towards the living room, facing Claire and looking for her reaction. Again, Claire could only gape. Piles of fast food bags, just waiting to be torn through. Boxes of pizza, Chinese, and fried chicken. Gallons of soda in plastic containers and even a few massive growlers with her favorite beer judging by the labels. The sheer amount of the spread before her caused a little bit of the pleased grin that followed her processing of everything she was going to stuff herself with for the next couple days before her eyes. But it was the stench wafting from Moira's body, the smell so different but still just as bad as her own funk; a scent that had permeated every bit of the house and banished the tendrils of warm food from sinking deeply into her nostrils that sealed the intensity of her grin.
“Let's get started!”

Moira couldn't believe her eyes. Sure, she had known Claire had an appetite on her back at the buffet but the strong-willed woman there and the blob of fat waddling as fast as she could towards the food was something else entirely. Claire's ass was the first thing Moira noticed as she stared, the bulbous mass jostling and quivering as its owner moved as fast as she could. It was a wonder Claire could even move with an ass that big. How she found clothes to fit it was also quite something, as Moira continued to stare. Claire's love-handles were droopy, sack-like gobs slathered in sweat and overpowered her own stink. A stink she was damn proud of, but Claire's BO was really quite incredible. A huge fart ripped from that massive ass as Claire dove into a few bags, the stench making Moira cough a bit and then wheeze as she moved beside her friend. Their bodies squished a bit as she grabbed a burger just out of reach of Claire's tubby left hand, eating most of it in two bites, earning herself one of Claire's stern glares.
“I was going to eat that one!”
“Well tough shit, Claire, I got it first. Besides, looks like you need a diet.” Bits of burger flew from Moira's lips as she spoke, landing here and there on Claire's body and giving the younger woman a prime view of Claire's breasts. They looked like little stomachs and were her eyes shitting with her or were they hardening as she grabbed a handful of fried rice and shoved it into her mouth? Moira decided not to focus on that little observation and went back to eating, occasionally taking glances at Claire's face and the three chins she had. Moira preferred the single loop of fat around the lower half of her face, but Claire definitely rocked the extra chins, especially while she was eating.
She returned her attention to her own hunger as her stomach roiled and she shoved a few hot dogs and another two burgers into her mouth before looking at Claire again. Her friend's stomach was causing the lowermost part of her shirt to ride up, peeking out like Nat did when they had played hide and seek three weeks ago at Dad's house. Then a second, smaller roll poked out as Claire lifted a growler to her lips. GLUG! GLUG! GLUG! GLUG! Moira watched the fat around Claire's throat bulge as she swallowed, spying a few coarse dark red hairs sticking out in tiny patches along the top and bottom of the alcohol's journey. Speaking of hair, Moira saw even more as Claire raised an arm to pound a fist into her stomach, a guttural belch eclipsing the volume of her previous fart. The sight made Moira want to stop shaving so much. Well, at least less than the two times in eight weeks she was currently at. Was that a piece of dried cake in the forest of armpit hair Claire was sporting? Again, Moira looked away and focused on the food. Pretty soon she couldn't give a damn if Claire's ass was ripping through her khaki's or not because she'd eaten one and a half meat-lovers with extra cheese, marinara and grease ringing around her lips as she gobbled up another slice. Grabbing a liter of soda, she pounded it back, loving the feeling of filling up but knowing she was far from fucking full as half the bottle vanished into her belly. “BURRRRRAPPPPPPPPP! Ahhh, man that's good!” Claire didn't respond and judging by the light snorts and heavy grunting she was doing, the older woman was far too involved in eating to care. Moira just smirked at the sight of Claire now almost on all fours and burying her face in a pile of nachos, chomping away, and decided that maybe eating like the pig she was wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Claire woke up with a snort and a sharp inhale of breath that became a wheeze as she staggered to her feet. A feat that took a couple minutes and a lot of rocking back and forth but she managed, panting heavily while looking down at the upper and middle parts of her food, sauce, and crumb-stained belly. “Huff...hgn...that was...Moira...oh my God, Moira!” A squeak of a fart answered her as Moira swore under her breath and got to her feet in eight minutes showing off a torn shirt and ketchup/cheese splatter combo on her bare gut.
“Calm your tits Claire, what's the big...damn!” Claire nodded at Moira's exclamation and looked again at the food and drink from last night and the whole lot of it gone. Now there was just empty bags, boxes, metal, and plastic. She moved her hand to her stomach, kneading the two rolls she could see and shivered at the thought of all the food she'd gorged on. Would she get another roll because of this? A slight breeze on her butt told her that her khaki's were a lost cause and that brought a giddy grin to her face. “Yeah, we're damn awesome for eating all that but...oh man URRRRRAAP! We have a problem.”
“This was all the food you had for the weekend, right?” Claire retained her calm demeanor, even as she blasted out a fart that caused both her butt-cheeks to wobble violently, trying to focus on the facts because even though she'd surpassed her capacity record and binge eating record in one night, she knew she was going to be starving in a couple hours.
“No, I've got enough to last the weekend, the only problem is I had Dad and Polly put it in the pantry/freezer.”
“So we go get it,” Claire replied, inhaling her flatulence from earlier and curling her toes at the smell.
“Did I mention the really good stuff's on the top of the shelf for both the fridge and pantry? And that Dad and Polly had to use a stepladder to put it away? You and I aren't going to be able to pull our fat asses up to grab anything up there.”
“So we use a broom to knock it down.”
“I don't have a broom Claire, I'm not Suzy Fucking Homemaker. It's a real shame too, because there's deep fried bacon corn-dogs and all kinds of other stuff. Dad knows a guy who comes up with the tastiest shit from the fair and I got a mother lode. But we'll just have to eat the other stuff I got.” Claire moved forward, gut bumping into Moira's, sweaty flesh against sweaty flesh as the feast from last night manifested itself in a gurgling roar as Claire opened her mouth to talk.
“URAAAAP! We're going to get that food and we're going to eat it. Got it?” Moira nodded, though compared their sizes and realized that Claire was larger than her, gulping a bit but soon enough Claire was looking at her, eyes radiating purpose and comfort. “You can do this, Moira. We can do this. You trust me, right?”
“Of course Claire but can we maybe take a nap first? I've gotta digest?”
“Good idea.”
A couple of hours later, Moira opened the door to the pantry, Claire waddling in shortly afterward and taking stock of the situation. She saw the fridge, turned on the light, and noticed the top shelf. She couldn't reach it even standing on her toes. Opening the fridge, see spied a similar daunting height but also the corn-dogs Moira had mentioned. Claire licked her lips at the sight and stood on her toes. Luckily, like the rest of her, her toes were coated in fat and though it was causing her a slight cramp up her legs, Claire grabbed what she could from the fridge. Handing it to Moira, who tossed it out of the pantry, Claire sighed, wiping some sweat from her forehead. “Lift your leg as high as you can.” Moira did so and Claire judged the height, nodding her head as she opened the fridge door as far as she could. “I'm going to get on all fours and you're going to step on my back. You should be able to reach it from there.”
“I'm going to break your back!”
“You can do this, Moira. Don't worry about me, just get as much food down as you can.” Moira nodded and waddled forward, watching as Claire got on all fours, the older woman's limbs quivering as she struggled to hold her self up. How the hell was she going to support her on her back too? But Moira did as she was asked, raising her leg up and placing a bare foot firmly onto Claire's back. It was like walking on sand as the flab engulfed her foot and Moira stepped as lightly as she could upwards, placing her other foot down. She could hear Claire's panting, as she grabbed from the top shelf, willing her limbs to move faster as she pulled down everything possible. She heard a few boxes land on Claire and few trumpets of gas fly from both of Claire's ends until she took a wrong step and ended up tumbling to the ground, heart pounding, pulse racing. Sweat raced out of her now as she looked around for Claire or any signs of a broken bone or sprained ankle. But she could only make out Claire's ass in front of her as her overworked body pumped out a fart. Oddly enough, the gas seemed to be sticking to her ass and pulsing a little. Suddenly, she realized what the pulsing heat actually was and she rolled as fast as she could off of Claire's face.

PPPPPPFFFFFFRRRRAAAPPPP! Claire coughed mightily as the fart brought her back to consciousness, driving the stink deep into her lungs and she burped a bit of that funk back up, panting as Moira's rear rolled off her face. “Ugh...huff....huff...hgn...hgngh...M-Moira?” Moira's flatulence tasted as foul as it smelled but there was something quite enjoyable about being covered and let loose on. For a moment she thought about Sherry doing this to her and her whole spine tingled but suddenly Moira's fat red face was in front of her eyes.
“Oh my God, Claire, I'm so sorry! I fucked up, I really, really did, I didn't mean too! I know we're both such pigs now but that doesn't mean I can fart in your fucking face! I- Claire shut Moira off by placing her palm over her lips, eyes darting around a bit as she reorientated herself.
“Don't apologize. Sure your farts smell worse than your BO but Moira, you did it!” Moira looked around with her palm still on her lips, Claire removing it and let the younger woman bask in their victory.
“Hell yeah! But Claire, we still have the pantry shelf and I don't think your back can take my blobby ass standing on it again.”
“Moira, your fall knocked everything down. I know you don't clean up but I do think the floor was cleaner than this when we walked in here. Now I don't know about you but I think some bacon corn-dogs are just what the doctor ordered.” Moira nodded, smiling as she got to her feet, grabbing Claire's fat hand and pulling her up as well. Claire grabbed the box of corn-dogs while Moira snagged a few other bits of junk food and a bag of pork rinds for good measure, the older woman leaving the pantry first and letting Moira take a moment alone to gaze around at what the pair had accomplished, obese bodies and all.

In a few minutes, Claire would be going home. Sherry was on her way and Moira couldn't help but tear up a bit. “I had a lot of fun. Next time though, you're hosting, okay?” Claire nodded, Moira darting forward as fast as she could and hugging as tightly as possible. “Good and thanks for spending the weekend here.”
“Of course Moira, but before I leave there's something I want to do first.” A moment later, Moira's on her back, Claire's gigantic ass covering her face and a hurricane of a fart is roaring past her lips and soaking into her hair. Moira's heart's pounding, a few squeaks of her own gas popping into life but it can't compare to what her face is undergoing. When Claire removes her ass from her face, Moira's hair is mussed up and she's panting heavily.
“Holy shit...that was...that was-
“Good for you, wasn't it? A little payback for yesterday in the pantry. Now really thanks Moira.” A honking sound came from outside and Claire helped her to her feet. Moira can just nod, hugging Claire again as she waddles out the front door, khaki's held together by a chain Moira had lying around from her punk teenage years, the angel on Claire's shirt torn a bit owing to Claire's gut having burst through last night. Still, Moira doesn't watch Claire get into the car. Instead she shuts her door and decides that she's going to give herself a lot more dutch ovens from now on and that she's totally going to stop shaving once and for all.

It's not Sherry that picks Claire up and the sight of her sister-in-law without her brother makes Claire's heart pound for an entirely different reason than exhaustion or arousal. “Is Chris okay? Sherry?!”
“They're both fine, Claire. Sherry called me Friday night to pick you up. Says she's working on a present for you,” Jill Redfield replied, offering her a warm smile.
“Good and I'm going to apologize in advance for any farts or burps I let loose while I'm in your car.”
“Trust me, after Raccoon City you smell like flowers. Now are you still happy living like this? Because Chris thinks this is just a phase.”
“I am,” Claire replied, thinking about how grossly fat she was, about her various smells, and the  arousal she felt every time she managed to eat just a little bit more, how Sherry's eyes would light up at the sight of her naked body. “I really am.”
“I can see it. You and Chris get that same goofy grin on your face when you're totally happy. I admit I can get part of why you're doing it. I put on some pounds after Africa and didn't really leave the house much.”
“Chris get on your case?”
“No,” Jill replied, ignoring the crackle of a fart Claire did her best to hold in. “As long as you're happy Claire, that's good enough for me and I know Chris thinks the same, even if he doesn't act like it sometimes.”
“Thanks. How big did you end up getting, if you don't mind me asking?”
“Just a pot belly. Popped the button on some jeans though,” Jill replied, idly running a hand along her flat stomach.
“I think Sherry baked me a cake when I first did that. Anyway, thanks for the ride Jill,” Claire said as her loft apartment came into view.
“Of course Claire. Need any help getting out of the car?” Claire shook her head, getting to her feet after a minute and made her way towards the private elevator she'd had installed a few months ago, turning to wave at Jill. Jill waved back before driving away, hand again going to her stomach. The sight made Claire smile a little as she reminded herself to tell Sherry to bring some of that cheesecake Jill loved so much at their next family dinner. The look in Jill's eyes made Claire think her sister-in-law might be eating for two these days and if her hunch was wrong then maybe she could talk her into waddling in the fat lane with herself and Moira.
But soon enough her thoughts returned to Sherry and she wished the elevator could go faster. Finally the doors opened and Claire noticed that something was off about the apartment. Normally Sherry kept everything clean when she was around. But those were definitely pizza boxes on the floor and she couldn't help but see the candy bar wrappers, beer, and soda cans strewn about. Following the trail, Claire's nostrils flared. That was body odor, ripe, unwashed, and wafting through the air like her own waddling pace these days. Moving faster, she rounded the corner towards the living room, eyes widening at what she saw.
Sherry was on the couch, sporting a taut gut that was reddening by the minute. She smiled warmly at Claire before her lips formed an O as she belched. “URRRRRAPPPPP! H-hey, honey...surprise!” Claire approached her supine lover and trailed a few fat digits along Sherry's orb-esque belly. “Is this okay?”
“As long as it's something you want to do honey and not something I pressured you into.” Sherry shook her head, a loud toot rippling from her butt. Claire noticed stains all over Sherry's clothes, clothes that had belonged to Claire once upon a time before she'd truly set herself on this obese path. Even then her clothes dwarfed Sherry but Claire beamed as she saw her Sherry's stuffed stomach causing it to ride up just a tad.
“I want to get big, Claire, and I want to smell worse than you do.”
“That's going to take awhile.”
“Good thing I resigned from the agency.” Claire's kissing her then, bad breath and all, marveling again at Sherry's distinct stench. So different from her own and Moira's.
“I'm happy for you but Sherry...”
“You feeling a bit gassy?”
“I'd say more than a bit. Why?”
“Let's get you to bed. There's something I want to try with you.” Claire helped Sherry to her feet, the blond cradling her stuffed middle, steps a bit unsteady as she murmured about not really getting up from the couch except to use the bathroom or get something to eat. “That's okay. I'll support you. Just try and hold in any farts, okay?”
“Okay,” Sherry replied, spine tingling all over as Claire's body odor engulfed her nostrils once again.
They Come In Lard Size
A weight gain/slob fic dedicated to SICstories. I own nothing in this story and all characters belong to Capcom.


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COOLY52 Featured By Owner Sep 14, 2015
The fave is quite appreciated. ^^
Johan25 Featured By Owner Sep 14, 2015
You're welcome!
ForgingHades Featured By Owner Jul 14, 2015
Thanks for faving my stories! Just wanted to let ya know, your suggestion for a big Lulu story has actually gotten me thinking, and I think that'll be showing up in the near future! Thank you, and don't be afraid to make requests.
Johan25 Featured By Owner Jul 14, 2015
You're welcome and expect a note from me shortly with some request ideas.
ForgingHades Featured By Owner Jul 14, 2015
Alright! I look forward to it! By the way, awesome Avatar. 

Albert Wesker on FF6 
Johan25 Featured By Owner Jul 14, 2015
Thanks. Yours is the Ryu from Street Fighter X Megaman, right?
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ballincourt3 Featured By Owner Apr 29, 2015  Student Writer
Thanks for favoring Sonya's 1st Finisher, Obesity! Did you like the story, and did you view the different endings? Am curious to know would you be game to see a possible "sequel series," happen with this as we're discussing it right now?
Johan25 Featured By Owner Apr 29, 2015
I really enjoyed it and I loved the variations. I'd love a sequel series and I'm actually writing a similar Mortal Kombat WG with Inquired as well, though obviously not as many parts or as in-depth as your work.

For a sequel, I'd love to see Cassie Cage vs. Sonya or Cassie vs. Jaqui.
ballincourt3 Featured By Owner Apr 29, 2015  Student Writer
....You are? Wow ah...that is surprising Inquired did not mention that at all. Could you tell me how much different or similar it would be to what we just put out? I'm taken back by that right now, not disappointed at you mind you since we just met :)

Thanks and we were discussing maybe adding in some MKX characters but we're also looking at the whole history. I did recommend a Mother vs Daughter fight.
Johan25 Featured By Owner Apr 29, 2015
We're doing a Jade vs. Mileena featuring Kitana. We're not doing the interactable WG items in the arena like you did.
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