DxD WG - Fun Size 2.5 - Something More Comfortable

Rias Gremory reclined heavily into the reinforced couch in her private chambers, her ultra-obese 1000-pound body sinking deep into the cushions with a soft, continuous creak. The cursed sweatpants Akeno had given her lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, finally removed after what had felt like an eternity of careful, exhausting work. Every tug or pull on the fabric had triggered the dark magic woven into the seams, forcing fresh layers of soft, heavy fat onto her already immense frame. She had learned the hard way not to force them. Instead she had spent long, laborious minutes sliding the material down over her mountainous thighs, inch by agonizing inch, her arms trembling under their own weight, breath coming in short, heavy pants.

Now free of the pants, she had managed to force herself into the largest dress she owned—a deep crimson garment that had once draped her elegantly. It barely contained her colossal chest. The fabric stretched tight across her massive, soft breasts, the neckline digging into the upper slopes while the heavy mounds spilled over and rested atop the first thick rolls of her belly. The dress did nothing at all for her midsection. Her vast, doughy belly, a cascading apron of pale, quivering flesh, spilled completely free and sank all the way to the floor even while she sat. Layer after layer of fat folded upon itself, the sheer mass pressing downward so that the lowest fold rested heavily against the carpet.

Simply shifting her weight sent slow ripples of blubber rolling across her form. Her pillowy arms, each as thick as a normal person’s torso, struggled to push against the cushions as she tried to sit a fraction higher. The effort left her flushed and panting, double chin wobbling, soft flesh of her upper arms jiggling with every small motion. Her thighs, enormous and soft, spread wide across the couch, overflowing the edges and pressing tightly together in deep, warm folds. Even breathing had become laborious; her lungs worked hard against the crushing pressure of the fat that encased her chest and midsection.

Despite her size—or perhaps because of the lingering effects of the cursed pants—Rias was unbelievably hungry. Deep beneath the heavy folds of her belly her stomach growled with insistent, resonant force, the sound vibrating through her entire mass. The craving was sharp and relentless. She wanted rich, heavy food, plate after plate of calorie-dense dishes that would only add more soft weight to her already overwhelming body. Akeno had promised to return with a meal as an apology for the “prank,” and Rias hoped it would be soon. The thought of warm, filling food made her mouth water and her soft body quiver with anticipation.

She tried once more to reach for the remote on the side table. Extending her arm across the broad expanse of her own belly was an ordeal. The weight of her arm and the yielding resistance of her own fat forced her to stop halfway, fingers brushing empty air before her arm dropped back with a soft, fleshy slap against her side. “Akeno…” she murmured, voice soft and strained from the simple effort of speaking. “Hurry…”

Every movement reminded her how thoroughly the curse had claimed her. Standing without help was no longer realistic; the belly that pooled on the floor would drag heavily, and her thick legs could barely support the thousand pounds of soft, yielding flesh. She settled deeper into the couch, letting the cushions mold around her, and waited. Hunger gnawed at her, patient and insistent, while her body remained a living monument to excess—soft, heavy, and still wanting more.