I-no’s insatiable greed [commission]

Chapter 2

Thus begins I-No’s execution for her new battle plans… if you could even call them that. Still, fully convinced that she has started to do is the best tactic going forward, the time-traveling immobile witch continues to binge the magically summoned and cooked meals as she originally started, albeit subconsciously. Now fully aware of what she’s doing to her body, and not only accepting but embracing it, has found her becoming more and more of a blob as she eagerly consumes even more. A dull purple glow enveloping her body, her mouth opens as to accept one mouthful after another of fattening meals, snack, and soon desserts. The constant stuffing making her stomach visibly swollen despite all the fat trying to bury it, slowly swelling with each swallow as more and more is stuffed past her plump eager lips.

Yet, what’s more impressive than her eating and swelling stuffed gut is her weight gain. The very next day has seen I-No truly become a blob, swelling out slowly and visibly fatter with every passing hour. Already surpassing 1,500 lbs, her body has nearly filled the entire bed and inching outwards steadily even as her stuffed belly rises above her eyeline. The constant feeding and binging still only stopping as she falls asleep, her gut gurgling and growling as it continues to digest her massive feast. Hours later, when she awakens, to find herself surpassing 2,200 lbs and a bed beginning to bow and crack. Her belly, despite being so clearly full packed with an enormous amount of food, hangs past the end of the bed. Off the sides rest her massive tits, as big as she was at her thinnest… maybe a little bigger. Her side rolls complimenting their size as they softly meet and slightly cradle the underside of her breasts. Buried underneath her rolls and belly are tree-trunk thighs, so bloated with adipose they’ve long since swallowed her feet entirely over 400 lbs ago, same as her pillowy couch-spanning arms.

Of course the protests of her bed won’t stop her, her impromptu and magically powered kitchen firing up once again to cook and serve up food, feeding her only moments later. Now that she's much fatter, it's harder to see changes to her stuffed gut, though the effects soon become visible as it begins to slowly expand outwards along with her rolls. Weight piling on, not only from the meals being stuffed inside, as I-No slowly and steadily grows even fatter, the same pale purple glow surrounding her as she continues eating more and more.

But the hunger doesn’t subside. The stuffing continues to expand her stomach more and more, despite the digesting faster, rounding out her huge belly rolls and rising like dough. Never full, never sated, only stretching and emptying, fattening her more as it fills up and still demanding more. The time-traveling musician’s powers, impressive as they are, only able to do so much to feed her as she continues to glut herself with more.

And it still isn’t enough, as 3 more days pass and a 6,000 pound I-No, long past crushing her bed, is more desperate than ever to feel full, satisfied. Stuffed. Most importantly, she finds herself wanting to be even fatter. Still, desperate for more, to be even fatter and to satiate her hunger, the witch’s thoughts are consumed thinking of solutions. The one that floated foremost in her mind being that of a personal factory, specifically a factory of food made with the sole purpose of feeding this growing multi-ton blob and nothing more.

Her immediate surroundings begin to shift and distort around her, time folding and distorting as the environment and atmosphere changes and morphs into a more modern-day setting… inside an industrial building with spacious room and a wide assortment of machinery. A moment later, glows of white light emit randomly around the large space. As the light fades, several of her “colleagues” – if one could call them such – and even enemies appear in their place.

“W-What,” Sol Badguy exclaims, looking around, “how did I.. what is this?”

“Well… this is different,” mutters Ky Kiske, crossing his arms.

“Hold on.. what the hell??” pitches in Axl Low, looking around surprised.

A chorus of others soon join in, voices of wonder, shock, and anger soon building into a cacophony of shouts and threats. Soon after, however, do they trail off as a very loud and familiar sound fights to drown them out: I-No’s stomach growling with intense hunger. Slowly, everyone gathered turn towards the source of the rumbles and grumbles, only to silently stare at the multi-ton blob summoning random foods that immediately float into her mouth. Her rolls slowly bulging outwards visibly as her stomach bloats upward.

“I’m… so… HUNGRY!!” the former musician cries out. The crowd now surrounding her, summoned against their will, stare openly at her. Her stomach continues to rumble loudly in desperation to be fed, despite the influx of food and the obvious effects it’s having on her massive body.

A shimmer of purple catches in the corner of everyone’s eyes as they notice they’re standing next to a piece of machinery, or at least at station for it. A set of instructions is taped within visible ease, neatly written and incredibly simplified. Pull this lever here, push that button there. And of course a single warning: “Sample at your own risk.” A few murmurs of curiosity and disbelief is heard, only to be drowned out again by the loud growls of I-No’s still fattening stomach demanding to be fed more.

At this point you could say the grumbles and demanding sounds of the blob in the middle of the room made them all oddly sympathetic to I-No’s gluttonous demands. Or maybe they felt pressured, and compelled to operate this machinery, as they begin powering up and chugging along. Or even just say it's a thinly veiled excuse for this author to get a group of people in this universe to feed the immobile and fattening musician in some factory setting, so she could continue to binge and stuff her soft and blubbery face and grow fatter and fatter.

And you'd probably be right.

The important thing is that this magically built – and let's be honest, magically powered – facility started working in earnest. Conveyor belts and ovens working, vats filled with icing, chocolate, batter, and other mixed begin to churn. Within minutes, everyone watches as decadent dessert after dessert are made, iced, stacked and served to a handy feeding chute leading to I-No’s mouth. One by one, her mouth is stuffed with calorie-dense and incredible-tasting sweets that she dutifully swallows as quickly as the food is served to her. Which is pretty quick.

The soft purple glow continues to surround I-No’s growing body, the impact of this magical factory’s food visibly affecting her girth already as her stomach bulges her fat up as it’s filled. Her rolls bulging out visibly, as the caloric intense sweets pack on even more fat than before. The immobile witch closes her eyes as she feeds, the familiar tightness finally setting in as she starts to feel full again.

A couple months pass by, the former battlefields oddly quiet. The destruction throughout civilization is still palpable, but crews of people and gears alike are seen cleaning up debris here, restoring broken and damaged infrastructure. A hooded man strolls through a damaged block, his silence is heavy. The soft pads of his shoes accompanied by metallic footfalls of a Gear behind him.

“The fighting ended, but there’s no signs of why. Did we win?” he wonders aloud, “Is… humanity saved?”

“I believe it's due to that,” the blue and white Gear, Justice, says and points to the distance.

Turning to where she’s pointing, That Man can only stare at the sight he beholds. There, not too far from the pair, is the fattest woman anyone would ever know, but one he could not help but recognize. That same familiar purple glow surrounding the mountainous rolls and building-sized tits sitting atop the rolling hills of a belly, sacks of fat where her arms should’ve been, and a seemingly expansive array of machinery around her. The aroma of food as it wafts through the warm city air and invading his nostrils, the unmistakable sound of electric guitar chords softly echoing nearby.

It could only be I-No, her gluttony far too well known since she suddenly manifested a factory in the middle of the city ruins, and likely the cause for many disappearances. Yet, as he finds himself – and by extension, Justice – walking towards the mountainous blob still feeding on hundreds of desserts and growing still fatter, it seems none are imprisoned. Many men still working as diligently as they used to fight, but the women apparently could not help but sample the heavy sweet desserts.

They’re still helping to operate the machinery though – some plump, some well over 1,000 lbs of quivering fat. Yet every one of them all working this magically empowered fattening factory. The 350,000 lbs of gluttony quaking and shaking uncontrollably, even if gently, as her rolls continue to visible stretch wider and thicker.

And only one word is uttered every few moments as she continues to grow. The one word that can only fuel her voluntary feeders to operate, and occasionally sample, the impossibly fattening caloric desserts to be fed to the sole beneficiary of their labors.

One word: “More!”