Peace and Plenty Chapter 4: How to Influence Your Friends

Everything belongs to its respective owner(s); I own nothing.

All characters aged up to at least 18.

This story features: Weight gain, sex, drinking

Quick note: Sorry it's been so long: I spent some time writing for my DeviantArt profile, then I was writing my dissertation alongside this, and that unavoidably took priority a lot. But, in recompense, this is a long chapter, and I at least am pleased with what I've written. I'd love to hear what you think!

I hope you enjoy!

‘Riyo!’ Ahsoka called in delight as the Pantoran Senator strode into the kitchen. ‘I thought you’d never get here!’ The Togruta grunted as she placed two hands on the table before her, and levered herself upright with a slight huff. Riyo Chuchi’s eyes bulged as the once-trim and toned Force User jiggled towards her, and let out a huff of her own as Ahsoka embraced her in a warm, squishy, and very tight hug.

Since discovering she’d put on over 80 pounds, Ahsoka hadn’t let up on her new hedonistic lifestyle for a single second. Indeed, if anything she’d been deliberately pushing her body past its ever-increasing limits, wanting to see just how far into decadence she could spiral. Now she had to be over 250 pounds, perhaps even at 260 already. Her belly, as bulging as Riyo’s eyes, hung out of her shirt-turned-crop top and down over her pelvis, slapping slightly against her thick, wide thighs as she walked. Her hips were like great balls of dough, sitting atop an arse that was just beginning to become shelf-like, and themselves supporting two heavy back rolls. Ahsoka’s breasts were fighting to get out of her tiny shirt, and Riyo was unable to stop herself gaping at the Togruta’s cavernous orange cleavage. Finally, there was her face: her defined chin had been swallowed in a fleshy sister, her cheeks were round and puffy, and her head tails twice their old thickness.

Riyo thought she was beautiful.

‘I, um… I delayed because I was wondering if you’d well… be up,’ the Pantoran admitted with a grin. She was recovering from the shock of seeing Ahsoka so much fatter, and now was beginning to tease her.

Ahsoka was amused. ‘Well, I can’t deny the only way I see morning is by staying up so late it becomes early,’ she declared, unabashed and proud.

‘I can attest to that,’ Lux called from the doorway. He’d shown Riyo in and had very much enjoyed seeing his wife crush their mutual friend in her obese embrace. Not to mention how she’d struggled ever so slightly to get up from her meal.

Ahsoka gestured to that meal now: a massive bowl full of pasta and pesto, that she was pairing with bacon, eggs, and pastries. Not breakfast pastries though: rich desserts, topped with chocolate, sugar, sprinkles. ‘You’re welcome to join me for my… well, breakfast, lunch; whatever you want to call it.’ She gave her friend a sly, jovial, very pleased look. ‘If you don’t mind me saying… you look like you’ve more than got the appetite for it these days.’

Riyo blushed intensely, but it was only part embarrassment. She’d been living in close proximity to the overindulgent Ahsoka for months now, and her gluttony had undeniably rubbed off on her. It wasn’t just a case of catching bad habits unintentionally either: she’d seen how joyous and carefree the Togruta was in her new lifestyle, and had decided she’d give it a spin. The results were plain for all to see on her formerly slim body.

The Pantoran Senator wasn’t anywhere near Ahsoka’s size, but she was much bigger than she had once been. She’d had to size up all her clothes to contain her slightly hanging gut, her significantly heavier breasts, her plumped-up arse and her wide, juicy thighs. Her face hadn’t been as powerfully impacted as Ahsoka’s, but it was nonetheless rounder, with an extra softness beneath her chin, that creased into a second whenever the blue-skinned woman looked down. In truth, even her sized-up clothes were already growing smaller again, as Riyo had discovered that it was very difficult to stop indulging once you’d started, and her feasts were only growing larger and more extravagant. She was loving the freedom of the hedonism, although she was still quite uncomfortable around others: she envied Ahsoka’s self-confidence.

She felt bolder in the corpulent Togruta’s presence, however. Smiling through her red cheeks, she said: ‘Well, what can I say? You’ve been a very bad influence on me, Ahsoka.’ She and the ex-Jedi shared another laugh.

‘Oh, the worst kind of influence, I should hope, Riyo,’ Ahsoka insisted. Then the Pantoran did indeed join her at the table, and eagerly ripped into the miniature buffet on display.

Ahsoka watched Riyo with a wry smirk all throughout the meal. She found it exciting, empowering, that she’d influenced one of her friends to give into their hedonistic impulses, just as she had. She felt so happy in her new, expanded skin, and she was thrilled to be sharing that happiness around. She was also very physically pleased by Riyo’s growth: she cast many glances at her softened, widened body throughout the meal. Her butt spread across the chair, so squishy and delicious, while her belly pressed ever harder against her conservative shirt as she glutted herself. Lux came and sat down with them as well, and Ahsoka played footsie with him under the table as they both kept taking in the beautiful blue view before them.

Riyo was wholly conscious of how much attention she was attracting (neither Ahsoka nor Lux were very subtle). Unlike those stares she’d been receiving in the Senate, she knew these were admiring, not deriding, looks: looks not with disgust behind them, but desire. The knowledge emboldened her further, and she ate even more than she would normally have (although still barely half as much as Ahsoka). She felt their eyes stare at her, more and more, harder and harder, and the excitement built in her nether-regions. Up till now, she’d avoided binging in sight of others, fearing what her colleagues at the Senate would say. But knowing that there were people watching her make such a hog of herself now… that was what was driving her.

Eventually, defeated, she leaned back in her chair, and was unable to stop a rumbling belch from passing her lips. ‘BBBBRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUPP.’ She blushed again, much harder than before.

‘Oh, I’m sorry…’ she exclaimed, and stifled a second expulsion. She suddenly felt embarrassed again, but that shame mingled with her desire to create a quite intoxicating cocktail. She looked down at her gut, and felt a naughty thrill. ‘It’s just… ooh… that was a lot of food…’ She finally braved looking into her hosts’ eyes. She patted her overfed, overweight belly with a definite air of pride. Then she blushed again, much harder than the last time, and looked away sharply.

‘You bet it was,’ Ahsoka agreed. She gripped Riyo’s hand kindly, squeezing it to make her look back at her. Then she burped, deep and wet, right into the Senator’s face.

‘BRRRRRAAAAAARRRRRRRPPPP!’

Riyo’s face quite lost its redness, paling in shock. She opened her mouth but found no words, and then Ahsoka let fly another, even deeper belch.

‘BRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRPPP!’

Riyo shivered, and then Lux was on her, kissing her softly, wetly. She let him into her mouth, and soon started returning his gentle kisses. She heard Ahsoka get up off her chair again, grunting much harder because of how much she’d packed into her belly. She heard a massive body get on its knees beside her, and then felt a pattern of fierce, insistent kisses landing on her ears, her plump cheeks, her slightly thicker neck. Plump hands went to her flabby belly, and Riyo Chuchi squirmed in rapture as Ahsoka rubbed and kneaded her gut. It was still soft and pliable beneath her fingers, and the pressure the Togruta was exerting made her burp again and again. ‘BRRAARP. BRUUUURP. BRUUUUUUUUUPPP. BRRAAAAAARRRP. BRRUURP.’ Each belch went inside Lux’s mouth, until Riyo took his head in her hands and removed it, and gripped Ahsoka’s fingers to tell her to stop, removing her hands from her belly. Husband and wife, one trim and fit, the other gorgeously fat, looked at her in concern, wondering momentarily if they’d gone too far.

Riyo’s expression soon put paid to that idea. She was flushed and lightly sweating, her eyes half-hooded, her generous bosom heaving with pleasure. As she spoke, Ahsoka couldn’t help but notice her delectable, if temporary, double chin.

‘This chair is very uncomfortable,’ Senator Chuchi finally managed to say. She let go of the couple and reached up to her shirt, undoing the lightly straining clasps. She undid enough of them to reveal her hefty tits, held in a too-tight bra. She sighed, gripped them through the cloth and pushed them up, so both Lux and Ahsoka could get an enormous look at her cleavage. Lux’s cock was fully erect, while Ahsoka was shamelessly rubbing her pussy through her trousers. Riyo leaned forward, savouring the power she held over her friends, pushing her boobs ever closer to their faces, making her belly bunch up and become bigger and wider. ‘Let’s go somewhere more comfortable,’ she finished. And the others were only too happy to oblige.

It was Lux who helped her up from the table, before helping his out-of-condition wife up from her kneeling position on the floor, but it was Riyo who ended up leading the other two into their own bedroom. She moved to their rumpled double bed (Ahsoka clearly hadn’t made it in a long time) as quickly as her stuffed belly would permit. Then she sat in its centre, leaning back on her hands, jutting her tummy out temptingly. She saw Lux’s eyes glisten, and then Ahsoka appeared from behind him, slower to get to the room. She laughed at what she saw.

‘Someone certainly seems to know what they want,’ the more-than-tubby Togruta commented. Her rotund cheeks dimpled gorgeously as she grinned.

Riyo smiled back, then daintily unclasped the rest of her shirt. She let it fall totally open, revealing her pale blue belly, round and flabby, sitting lazily on her thickened lap. She spread her lardy legs, and her belly shifted downwards slightly. Her mind was racing with arousal: it was like a swarm of bees had started a podrace inside her skull. She didn’t know how long this boldness was going to last, but she was going to make damn sure she utilized it to the full.

‘Well, aren’t either of you going to come over and take my trousers off?’ she asked in amusement. Ahsoka puffed in pleasure, and sauntered towards Riyo, making sure her hips rolled and wobbled as she went. The Pantoran felt her mouth begin to water. When Ahsoka climbed on the bed beside her, it dipped down heavily, and Riyo’s breathing quickened at the feeling of how much her friend weighed.

Ahsoka, for her part, was burning from head to toe. She’d been watching Riyo plumping up over the last few months with hungry eyes, and now her unstoppable sex drive was begging her to strip Senator Chuchi to the bone. She held off long enough to kiss her friend on the neck from where she was kneeling on the bed, then up, up, to her mouth. She lathered Riyo in her love, melding her hot tongue with hers as she used her left hand to carress the Senator’s face, feeling that new, slight softness in her cheeks; playing with that little bit of chub under chin.

Riyo broke the kiss. ‘Ahsoka,’ she said with a hint of playful sharpness. ‘My trousers. Now.’

Ahsoka enjoyed how demanding Riyo was being, and didn’t hesitate to push back. ‘This isn’t the Senate, m’lady. You’re in my house now, in more ways than one.’ She grabbed her gut, hard, and jiggled it, slapped it. Riyo’s breathing hitched.

‘I decide what comes off first,’ Ahsoka half-whispered to her new lover. ‘And I’ve decided I want a look at your tits.’ Without any further warning, Ahsoka deftly unclasped Riyo’s bra, and threw it carelessly across the room.

Riyo cried out as Ahsoka pinched her right nipple. She pinched it again, and again, using only her thumb and forefinger. Then she stopped, and did the same to her other breast, remarkably reticent given how horny Riyo could sense she was.

The incessant teasing hardened the Pantoran’s nipples until they were solid as iron, and only then did Ahsoka bring up both her hands and squeeze them both. Riyo groaned and fell backwards, and Ahsoka had to readjust her position. She lay diagonally on top of Riyo, her wide, rolling belly pressing heavily against the Pantoran’s little chubby gut. Her hands lifted and fondled and squeezed Riyo’s tits, again and again, but soon she was getting paid back. Lux had come up behind Ahsoka, having stripped while watching the two women cavorting on the bed. He slid Ahsoka’s crop top off, then removed her bra even more skilfully than his wife had removed Riyo’s. The Pantoran saw it, and felt a rush at seeing Ahsoka’s exposed, saucer-like nipples. She seized the opportunity with glee, and soon Ahsoka was moaning with delight as she kneaded her sagging tits and tweaked her nipples into hardness. Then she pressed her face into Riyo’s again, asserting dominance with her tongue, forcing the Pantoran’s head deeper and deeper into the mattress, gripping her tits ever harder and more possessively.

Riyo could tell she stood no chance of dominating Ahsoka, but she could feel the submissive Lux’s eyes watching the pair of them in lust. When Ahsoka let her breathe again, she called out to him: ‘Lux. My trousers. Off. Now.’

Lux jumped to obey, and unbuttoned Riyo’s trousers. She exhaled as her belly expanded gratefully, and shifted and kicked to help the Senator from Onderon to get them all the way off her body. The panties were much easier to slide off. Then Lux leapt up on the bed, making sure to give Ahsoka’s arse a worshipful wobble, which she responded to with a pleased moan. Then Riyo gasped and cried out again: Lux was inside her.

He took her legs in his hands as he fucked her, fingers stroking and exploring the new flesh on her thighs. It was sensitive, and getting it fondled at the same time as Ahsoka punishing her breasts was near-overwhelming; although not so much that Riyo forgot to keep squeezing Ahsoka’s tits.

It was Ahsoka who made the next move. All of a sudden, after Lux had pounded her halfway to orgasm, Ahsoka dropped Riyo’s tits and clambered up onto her face. It wasn’t exactly the quickest or the smoothest movement: there was a fair bit of grunting and huffing as Ahsoka heaved her bloated body up onto the Pantoran, swinging one thick leg over her in order to straddle her. And that was all after the Togruta, with Lux’s now-fumbling help, had managed to remove her shorts and underwear. Now, while Ahsoka’s arse crushed Riyo’s chest, her pussy was right in her mouth. The Pantoran was too shocked and turned on to do anything at first. Then Ahsoka looked down into her eyes, over the meaty curve of her belly.

‘Well, start licking, Riyo,’ she said with a teasing beam. ‘You’re not the only girl who wants to get fucked here, you know.’ She rolled her hips and ground her pussy into her mouth. Riyo moaned, feeling deliciously trapped beneath Ahsoka’s bulk, and did as the ex-Jedi commanded. As she licked her out, making her cries of pleasure grow louder and louder, she grabbed and pinched and shook and fondled every inch of her flabby form, which seemed simply enormous to Riyo. She lifted her belly and made it plop over her head; she reached up and squeezed her tits some more; she cupped and slapped her astoundingly heavy arse. Ahsoka was relentless in showing Riyo how much she appreciated her attentions, rocking back and forth faster and faster, exclaiming louder and louder. Lux was unstoppable as well, and Riyo was soon bucking her widened hips into his pelvis with each of his thrusts. She was getting pounded at both ends, and she could barely breath with how heavy Ahsoka was on top of her. She absolutely loved it.

Ahsoka was the first to come, not only from Riyo’s enthusiastic tongue, but from all the additional attention her hands had been paying to every other part of her bulbous body. ‘OH FORCE!’ she cried as she felt the first wave of her orgasm. ‘OH FOOOOORCE! I’M CUMMING, I’M CUMMING, I’M CUMMING…!’ As Ahsoka’s woman-seed exploded into Riyo’s mouth, she raised an amused eyebrow through her own mounting arousal. Ahsoka was not a very subtle lover. She continued to grip Ahsoka’s hips as she rode her, feeling the side rolls of her belly slap into her hands with every jerk.

‘SO GOOD, SO GOOD, SO GOOD!’ screamed the ex-Jedi. ‘DRINK IT, RIYO! DRINK IT ALL UP! OHHHHHH, FUCK, RIYOOOOOHOOOOOO…!’

Ahsoka finally finished finishing, and summoned just enough of her wits to fall sideways off Riyo’s face, so that she wouldn’t slam into her husband, who had almost reached his own completion behind her. Her impact on the bed actually threw her partners up slightly.

Riyo had indeed drunk a lot of Ahsoka’s cum, while the overspill had splattered all over her face. She felt so dirty, so naughty, and, to borrow a phrase from the Togruta, SO GOOD. Then Ahsoka, even though she was caught in her post-orgasm stupor, crawled up to her again and started fucking her belly button with her middle finger, making her gut jiggle and bounce and the food still stuffed inside her roil. It was the last thing Senator Chuchi needed to add to Lux’s divine attentions.

She didn’t scream as loud as Ahsoka when she came, but she cry out, and buck her hips very hard. Seeing his colleague from the Senate writhing beneath him, whilst his overfed wife fondled her from the side, did it for Lux as well, and he came deep inside Riyo.

Riyo was so overcome by pleasure that she drifted off to sleep. She remembered worrying before she succumbed: would her boldness disappear now that she’d had her fun? Would her courage be wiped out when she awoke?

When she did, she couldn’t honestly say if that had happened or not. But then she felt two warm shapes in her arms, one of them lean and hard, the other soft and massive. She looked to her right, and to her left, and there were Lux and Ahsoka, smiling happily at her. Riyo noticed Ahsoka was ogling her protruding belly, with a definite hunger returned to her eyes. Force, was she never satisfied?

But it was then that Riyo realised… was she satisfied? She leaned over to Ahsoka’s round face.

‘Do I still have your cum on my face?’ she asked quietly.

‘And very nice it looks too,’ Ahsoka confirmed. She rolled heavily onto her side, gut spilling across the bed. Riyo reached out a hand and started rubbing it, lethargically, happily.

‘Honestly, I’m quite jealous,’ Ahsoka continued. ‘Would you mind terribly if I… got the same present from you?’

Riyo felt another thrill run through her. She grinned, full with teeth. ‘You just want to see what my belly looks like from down there.’

‘Well, can you blame her?’ Lux commented, and started stroking Riyo’s gut in the same way as she was stroking Ahsoka’s. It wobbled beneath his fingers.

‘Lux makes an excellent point,’ Ahsoka quipped. She gently, but excitedly gripped Riyo’s hand against her stomach. ‘So… what do you say?’ Her smile was infectious.

Riyo giggled before the obese orange woman, and gripped her belly lovingly. ‘Knock yourself out, Ahsoka.’

‘Not before I knock you out,’ the former Jedi promised. Riyo laughed, and turned to begin kissing Lux, getting his wife’s juices all over his face, as Ahsoka got herself up off her side, and made the bed creak as she shifted round to Senator Chuchi’s pussy. Then she started kissing her as well, and Riyo knew at that moment that this new boldness was never going to leave her.

The woman Ahsoka met two days later was not nearly so bold, so confident, as Riyo Chuchi had become. Padme Amidala continued to be a strong and passionate voice in the Senate, and the fact that she was juggling her tireless campaigning with newborn twins made her all the more formidable. However, privately, Padme was feeling less than formidable, owing to the weight she’d put on during her pregnancy.

She’d tried everything to get rid of it. But she didn’t have any time to exercise anymore, and in any case it was so uncomfortable to do now: her jutting belly got in the way, and her arms and legs were losing more and more of their strength. She’d tried four different diets, all of which she’d discarded in less than twenty-four hours. She’d grown used to eating for three.

The result was she’d actually gained weight since that dinner where Ahsoka and Lux had gone oh-so-subtly up to the roof. Quite a lot of it, too. Padme was 65 pounds heavier than she’d been before her pregnancy, and even in her new, flowy clothes her chunky frame made itself known. Her hips were lardy and grabbable, melding downwards into a wide, flabby butt and ham-like thighs, and upwards into small but thick side-rolls. Her belly unavoidably protruded in front of her, and incessantly jiggled as she walked, not to mention her much rounder, wider breasts. They at least weren’t so much of a burden. Her cheeks were chubby and she had a small second chin now as well.

All this Ahsoka saw as Padme strode into the restaurant, clothed in a loose dress that still couldn’t hide the curve of her gut, or the bounciness of her breasts. She was casting her gaze right and left, clearly not wanting to be recognised. Ahsoka cared deeply about Padme, not only because she was so special to her old Master. She was her friend too. It hurt her to see the Senator for Naboo so lacking in self-confidence, and she resolved then to do something about it. Time to lead by example, she thought cheekily to herself.

‘Padme!’ she called. She seemed to be calling out Senators’ names a lot lately, she mused, although these were rather different circumstances to how she’d called out Riyo Chuchi’s. She stood, letting Padme see her whole outfit, and waved. Her arm fat wobbled. ‘Over here!’

Padme saw her and she blinked, genuinely not recognising the person addressing her for a moment. Her mouth fell open just a fraction, before she tactfully closed it. Her smile of greeting was completely sincere.

‘Ahsoka,’ she said, happy despite her shock. She took the opportunity to look the Togruta up and down. She was dressed in a bejewelled emerald bodysuit that hugged every curve, roll and fold of her overfed body. Her belly was broad and bulging, her thighs and hips looked humongous, and her deep cleavage, soft shoulders and plump arms were exposed at the top. Her grin accentuated her second chin and made her face as round as a sun: a face that was framed with a shining gold headdress, encrusted with gems that matched her bodysuit. She was wearing the necklace and ring that she’d brought to that dinner months ago as well. Padme looked into her friend’s eyes: happy and generous. ‘You look… amazing, Ahsoka.’ It was true. Fat she may have become, but that didn’t seem to matter: her joy was magnetic.

Ahsoka seized the Senator in a tight squeeze of a hug. Her belly and breasts were so warm against Padme’s dress: it was honestly rather nice. The ex-Jedi pulled back and took her turn looking Padme up and down.

‘Boy, you can talk,’ she remarked. ‘You look absolutely gorgeous in that dress, Padme.’

Padme blushed and looked away. ‘You can’t really mean that…’ she said quietly.

‘Of course I do,’ Ahsoka insisted matter-of-factly. Padme looked back at her and smiled gratefully, feeling buoyed up by Ahsoka’s compliment even if she wasn’t totally convinced by it. The Togruta drew Padme down to sit beside her, and stared, she hoped surreptitiously, at the press of her belly as it rolled into her lap. It was nothing compared to what her massive gut looked like, spilling forth in her skin-tight bodysuit, which Padme found herself glancing sidelong at as well.

‘So, how are Luka and Leia?’ Ahsoka asked, eager for news of the kids she knew were Anakin’s.

That distracted Padme for some time, as she detailed all the cuteness and sweetness and love of her babies, before delving into the strife and struggle that went hand-in-hand with those things. Throughout she never once mentioned Anakin, and Ahsoka decided that if she was going to inspire Padme to get her self-confidence back, she needed there to be total honesty between them.

‘Do you really not have anyone to help you? And I don’t mean your handmaidens; where’s the baby’s father in all of this?’ Ahsoka smirked as Padme blanched and coughed suddenly into her fist.

‘I, uh… well; I don’t know where he is,’ the Senator lied.

Ahsoka took her fist in her hand, and uncurled it so she could interlock her fingers with Padme’s. The Togruta’s hand was softer than Padme remembered: not just plumper, but less coarse as well. Clearly Ahsoka had been enjoying her new life of luxury. She looked into her friend’s eyes, and they were just as soft, telling her it was all right: she could tell her the truth.

‘Are you sure about that?’ Ahsoka asked gently. ‘Are you sure that… I don’t know where he is as well?’

Padme bowed her head. ‘You know,’ she said with a sigh, not of concern but of relief.

‘Not always; not for a long time,’ Ahsoka explained. ‘But by the time I left the Order, I’d figured it out. I know I’m not one to talk, but you two were never very subtle.’ She grinned as Padme returned her gaze to her face. Then Padme laughed. ‘No; no, I suppose we weren’t,’ she chuckled. ‘Does, um… does Anakin know that…?’

‘That I know? Are you kidding? Anakin?’ That made both women laugh very loud, drawing a few stares from around the restaurant.

‘Well, I’m glad you do know,’ Padme said once they’d both settled down. ‘Obi-Wan does as well; I think he always did.’

‘Well, he is one smart man,’ Ahsoka commented fondly.

‘Indeed he is. You have to tell Anakin you know soon, Ahsoka.’

‘I know,’ Ahsoka agreed. ‘Getting him to talk about his feelings is always a difficult task, though.’

‘You’re telling me,’ Padme confirmed. Then she considered. ‘Except about sand, though.’

‘Yeah I know; what’s up with that?’ Ahsoka asked in bemusement.

Soon it was time to order. Padme was in a much better mood, but her heart sank a little when she saw all the starters. Crab legs, runny cheese, garlic bread… they all looked so delicious. But she knew she was going to overeat on her main anyway, so she felt obliged to at least exercise a modicum of restraint and skip the first course.

Ahsoka had other plans for them both. She scanned the menu quickly, then slammed it down on the table, catching Padme’s attention. ‘I’m going to have the camembert and the brie for starters; how about you?’

Senator Amidala’s eyes went wide. ‘Um… do you mean the camembert or the brie?’ she asked, pretty sure she’d heard correctly.

‘Nope,’ Ahsoka confirmed cheerfully. ‘I want both, so I’m having both. How about you?’ she asked again.

‘Oh, I’m not going to have a starter,’ Padme said, her belly feeling hollow just at the thought.

‘Whyever not?’ Ahsoka asked. ‘What’s stopping you?’

‘Well…’ Padme still hadn’t discussed her weight gain with anyone, not even Anakin. He hadn’t said anything, but she didn’t want to know what he was thinking. She looked across at Ahsoka again, once more taking in how swollen her stomach was, how bloated her breasts, how fat her face. If there was one person she could talk to about her figure with the least embarrassment, she supposed it was Ahsoka: an old friend who had blown up WAY bigger than her.

‘Well… I’ve gained weight, Ahsoka,’ Padme finally said. ‘I mean, you must have noticed.’

‘And?’ Ahsoka asked again.

Padme blinked. ‘And… I’m bigger. F…fatter. What more is there to say?’ She was quite confused by the Togruta’s nonchalance.

Ahsoka grinned, and jiggled her sloping stomach affectionately. Its bouncing and wobbling was honestly quite hypnotic, not to mention the way it made her breasts bound up and down. Padme managed to look back up at Ahsoka’s face as she said: ‘Gaining weight is just the natural consequence of enjoying yourself, Padme. Of eating what you want, when you want. After everything you’ve been through, don’t you think you deserve to let go, and just enjoy all the good things life has to offer?’

Padme blinked again and couldn’t help but look Ahsoka up and down once more. It was no wonder she’d grown so obese if that was her philosophy now. ‘But… being bigger isn’t… attractive, Ahsoka,’ she countered. Skilled negotiator that she was, she knew that was hardly going to be one of her finest arguments.

Indeed, Ahsoka laughed loudly. ‘I thought you said I looked amazing when you came in?’ she teased her friend. ‘And I saw the look on your face; don’t tell me you didn’t mean it!’ Her mirth was so infectious Padme couldn’t help but smile and chuckle back.

‘Well, I suppose you have a point there,’ she admitted, inclining her head as she conceded the point. ‘I can’t deny you look… radiant.’

Ahsoka blushed despite herself, and scratched the back of her thickened head-tails. When she got her spunk back, she said: ‘And I meant it when I said you looked gorgeous, Padme. And I bet you I’m not the only one who thinks so.’

Padme exhaled: it was half a laugh. ‘Well, you’re the first one to say anything,’ she said, looking down at her hands, a little dejected again. Ahsoka leaned forward, and tipped Padme’s face towards her own.

‘People only haven’t broached the subject with you because they can see how uncomfortable you are with your extra weight. They don’t want to upset you.’ She paused, withdrew her hand. ‘There are other ways to tell, though. Somehow I don’t think Anakin’s been… stingy in bed, shall we say?’

Padme coughed, her cheeks turning red now. ‘Ahsoka,’ she gasped, although a smile was playing at her lips.

‘What?’ Ahsoka exclaimed again, teasing smile returned. ‘We’re all girls here. Come on: has Anakin ever given you any reason to think he’s not still attracted to you?’

Padme was still reeling from the shock of hearing Ahsoka ask such a thing: clearly her marriage with Lux had opened up more desires in her than just gluttony. She had taken this hedonistic philosophy very much to heart. But, soon, she was considering her question. She and Anakin hadn’t been doing it as much as they’d used to, but that was entirely because Padme wasn’t instigating sex anymore, due to her embarrassment over her weight gain. Anakin had kicked off just as many encounters as he used to… more actually, now that she thought about it. And he had been very keen to grab her widened arse, or fondle her heavier breasts… he’d steered clear of her rounded belly, but as she thought about what Ahsoka had said, it was perfectly possible that was because he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable…

The Senator for Naboo grinned back at Ahsoka. She could feel a sense of confidence that she hadn’t felt in a long time. ‘If anything, he’s… even more into me,’ she admitted, realising it herself for the first time.

Ahsoka raised an eyebrow, and kept grinning. ‘And – I’m probably going to make you splutter again Padme, so prepare yourself – I’m going to dare to assume that the sex has been a lot better.’ It was more of a statement than a question.

Padme didn’t splutter this time. Instead she leaned forward over the table and mirrored Ahsoka’s broad beam. ‘Better than ever,’ she confirmed in a low voice.

Ahsoka laughed again, making her belly shiver and shake. Padme sent a hand to her own, much smaller, tummy then, and pinched its new inches of fat. She’d done it many times before, always in disgust, but now she approached it from a different angle. The excess flesh felt warm and cosy between her fingers, and as she took larger handfuls she began to become quite enamoured with how soft it was. She cupped her gut in her hands and lifted it, let it fall, felt it wobble. Suddenly, she remembered Ahsoka, and looked up, once again with red cheeks. This was a different kind of embarrassment, though: there was joy behind it, not shame, and a lot of arousal. That arousal only grew as she took in Ahsoka, leaning back with her hands resting lazily on her own shelf of a belly. She was still smiling, amused but also very happy.

‘Imagine how good it’ll feel when you’re my size,’ was all she said. She was referring to sex with Anakin, but also to Padme’s own enjoyment of her body. Padme’s grin returned in full force to her face, and she eagerly seized the menu again.

‘I think I’m going to have the Eggs Organa; Bail assures me they’re delicious. With a side of garlic bread.’

‘And to drink?’ Ahsoka asked.

Padme mulled for a moment. ‘The richest red wine they have.’

‘You read my mind,’ the overfed Togruta commented.

It was Padme’s turn to slam the menu down onto the table. ‘Then I’m going to go home and knock your old Master’s brains out.’ Ahsoka was momentarily shocked, then she laughed once more, and pressed Padme against her in another warm, squishy hug, which the Senator was much more excited to share this time. Both feeling warm and happy and uplifted, the two formerly athletic women ordered the first round of their hedonistic lunch.

Ahsoka grimaced as she lifted up her third crate, flaccid, bloated arms burning now from the strain. Nonetheless, she diligently carried it over to the waiting table, slammed it on top, then couldn’t help but lean back against it, panting and sweating. She let the cool metal take the weight of her back, and the sharp edge of the table the mass of her bum.

‘Oh, honestly…’ came an exasperated voice from across the room. ‘You gonna take my advice and let us handle it now, tubster?’

The out-of-condition Togruta swivelled her head round, making her plump neck crease, and smiled weakly at Rafa Martez.

‘Yeah… maybe you’re right…’ she admitted. From the other direction Rafa’s younger sister Trace brought another crate, effortlessly. She plonked it down on the floor instead, and glanced at Ahsoka with a shyness she wasn’t used to seeing from the young mechanic.

‘Um… I thought you could sit there…’ she mumbled. She braved another glance, then hurried back to continue unloading the crates. Ahsoka smirked, and did as the sisters had suggested, unloading her own weight onto Trace’s makeshift seat. Again, she leaned back against the table so her dully aching back could get some support.

Today was a special day for the three friends. Ahsoka had been helping to coordinate the Republic’s relief efforts to the Undercity, stocking as many people as possible with healthy supplies. It had been going very well, in no small part thanks to the Martez sisters’ indefatigable assistance. To thank them, Ahsoka had decided to use her own money (well, Lux’s own money) to buy a feast of the upper levels’ finest cuisine to bring down for her friends. They were going to have a massive street party with it, and even though their bellies were no longer empty, the neighbourhood was all but singing Ahsoka’s praises. The one mistake she had made was in attempting to help Trace unload all the food, while Rafa inventoried it. She hadn’t just wanted to sit back and let her friends do all the work, but her heavy, hanging belly and thickened, weakened limbs had now convinced her she wasn’t cut out for manual labour anymore.

She had just about caught her breath when Trace brought the last of the crates over. Rafa made a satisfied clicking sound with her tongue and put away her pad. Circling round to Ahsoka, she looked her dead in the eye, grinning, while Trace continued to look down at her feet.

‘Well, you may have got fat, Ahsoka, but it seems you’re just as generous with others as you are with yourself,’ the dark-skinned woman barbed. Ahsoka chortled, and noticed Trace flush at her sister’s words, then risk a look at Ahsoka’s gut, jiggling as she chuckled. She swung her gaze back to the floor again.

‘I just want to share the high life around,’ Ahsoka retorted to Rafa, still keeping half an eye on Trace. ‘If I keep it up, maybe you’ll start to plump up, Rafa.’

Rafa snorted. ‘No chance, tubster.’ That was her new nickname for Ahsoka, bestowed upon her when she’d seen how huge she’d grown.

‘Well, then maybe Trace will,’ Ahsoka said, voice light-hearted, looking fully at the younger sister now. Trace looked up again in shock, and now curiously seemed unable to tear her abashed eyes away from Ahsoka’s, which sparked with mischief. She was sure as the Cosmic Force going to bring Trace out of her embarrassed seclusion.

‘I, um… I don’t think I’d… well, I wouldn’t mind…’ Rafa arched an eyebrow at her sister, who scrambled to redeem herself. ‘That is, it wouldn’t be the worst thing, would it? Better too much to eat than too little. I think everyone around here would agree with that.’

‘Are you seriously telling me you’d want to as much of a whale as Ahsoka? Um, no offence, Ahsoka.’ Rafa had the grace to look slightly shamed.

‘I think Rafa’s just jealous, Trace,’ Ahsoka said, and, feeling her strength recovered, hoisted herself up off the crate with an audible puff. She stood there in functional sweats: the trousers had been meant to hold above the ruin of her waist, but all that hard exercise had exposed her protruding, quivering gut. ‘Not everyone could handle being this big and heavy.’ She patted her belly, her soft hand, still wearing Lux’s 501 ring, making ripples in the plush orange flesh. Trace’s eyes bulged and her right hand clenched and unclenched. Ahsoka strode up to Trace and thrust her soft arm around her shoulders, making the aspiring pilot look into her eyes again as her sagging orb of a gut, thick hips and heavy breasts squeezed into her stick-thin frame. Ahsoka recognised the look in them very well.

‘I think you could handle it, though,’ she concluded mirthfully, and hugged her friend tighter. Finally, Trace smiled, then she grinned, then she beamed.

‘Yeah, I bet I could. Much better than you!’ she proclaimed, every inch her joyous old self again.

‘You’re both nuts,’ Rafa remarked, but her face was splitting in her own amused smile. ‘Come on, Trace; let’s get this all to what Ballo claims is a kitchen. I’d ask you to come along too, Ahsoka, but you’d probably eat the food before it got to anyone else.’

Ahsoka walked off deeper into the repair shop. ‘That’s all right; I’ll help myself to some of your stuff to tide me over.’ She could feel her arse bouncing and shaking as she moved off, and she could feel Trace ogling it too. She put a little extra sway into her step, and raised a hand behind her. ‘See you at the party!’

‘See you, tubster!’ Rafa called, chuckling. Trace called out too, cheerfully. ‘I’ll save you a seat next to me, Ahsoka!’

The ex-Jedi smirked again, and not just because of the prospect of raiding the Martez’s fridge. This was going to be fun.

Four hours later, once the street party was done, anyone who had been in the Martez sisters’ repair shop would have seen a strange sight. Trace entered the main hangar pushing a levitating forklift, that she normally used to haul spare parts around the place. Atop its prongs today, however, was her friend Ahsoka, too stuffed to move under her own power, her belly a few inches rounder just from food. Her plump legs dangled uselessly close to the floor, until finally they reached a workbench.

Trace had to stop for breath as soon as she parked the forklift. Ahsoka was very heavy, but even so she would normally have been able to push her all the way back up here without too much trouble. But Trace’s actions during the party had taken a toll on her.

Ever since Ahsoka had made that comment about her being able to ‘handle’ being as big as her, Trace hadn’t been able to get the image of growing that fat out of her mind. The weight really did look so intoxicating on her friend: she was so round and plump and feminine. It was more than just that as well: she remembered how fit, strong and acrobatic Ahsoka had been when she’d first met her. The fact that that woman’s muscles and athleticism had now been buried under 150 pounds of fat, all created by her own overindulgence and laziness, made Trace absolutely buzz. It was like she was talking to a living embodiment of the luxury of the upper levels: a luxury that was becoming increasingly available to Trace now as well, even though she hadn’t taken that much advantage of it yet. She never went hungry anymore, but she was still used to small amounts of everything. Ahsoka’s transformation had made her think… maybe she should also indulge, now that she had the ability to.

She’d more than done that at the party. Keeping an eye on Ahsoka to compare herself to her, she’d striven to keep up with all the meats and cheeses and candies and crisps and carbs the Togruta continually shoved down her throat. She’d quickly discovered she hadn’t anywhere near Ahsoka’s capacity, and had been quite downcast. But then Ahsoka had spoken to her.

‘Hey,’ she’d said, eyes smiling while her mouth was busy. ‘Nice job on those steaks.’

‘I only had one and a half,’ Trace had complained a little mournfully. ‘You had three.’

‘That’s pretty damn good for your first day.’ She’d inhaled half a cupcake then. ‘You think I could eat this much when I was as skinny as you? Well, I could eat a lot, but nothing like this.’ She’d leaned over then, and what followed was burned gorgeously into Trace’s memory.

Ahsoka had rubbed a hand gently over Trace’s bulging food baby, and the mechanic had felt the heat of her fingers even through her clothes. Ahsoka had gulped, then grinned with her mouth as well as her irises. ‘Getting fat takes work, Trace,’ she’d said, speaking as loud and clear as ever. ‘But like I said, I think you can handle it.’

That had been enough to spur Trace on to eat more than she’d ever eaten in a single day before; Force, more like in three days. The result was a rock-hard sphere making her shirt ride up, exposing the brown skin to the world, and weighing her down so much that she was entirely out-of-breath by the time she’d pushed the immobilised Ahsoka, who’d eaten more than twice what she had, back to the shop.

Ahsoka was patient, waiting with a smirk for Trace to catch her breath. Then the younger Martez sister came around to the forklift’s front, dug her hands under her friend’s fleshy arms, and hoisted her with a groan of effort up and down.

Ahsoka belched loudly as the contents of her gut shifted, supporting herself with a hand on the workbench. She looked this way and that.

‘Um, Trace… if you don’t mind… could I have a chair?’ she asked. She felt like she was going to fall over any moment, such was the mass in her stomach.

‘Oh, right! Of course!’ Trace replied, and rushed to fetch a chair from across the room. Taking a moment to consider, she brought a second for herself, and then she and Ahsoka both flopped with grateful sighs onto the simple seats. The Togruta’s cried out in pain.

Trace just sat there for a few moments, then looked down at her belly, sticking so far up into the air. Suddenly, she began to laugh. It was hysterical, unstoppable, and Ahsoka, amused, asked her: ‘What’s so funny?’

‘Oh, nothing… it’s just…’ Trace giggled and chortled, unable to contain herself. Once she’d subsided, she placed a hand gingerly on her newfound mound. ‘It’s just this,’ she explained. ‘It’s so ridiculous! Before I saw you today, I would never have dreamed of eating so much. But today I did… and I did it because I want to get fat like you. How absurd it that?’ She laughed again, even harder, and Ahsoka found herself joining in, looking down at her own belly and reflecting how wonderfully ludicrous her own desire to grow was.

‘Having second thoughts, then, are you?’ she asked teasingly, but with an edge that conveyed she knew that the opposite was true.

‘I’m not even sure I had first thoughts,’ Trace replied. ‘All my blood rushed downstairs the moment I saw you heave yourself off that transport!’ The young woman blushed, realising what she’d just said. Feeling some of the morning’s shyness returning, she looked away from her friend.

‘Hey; don’t turn away,’ Ahsoka said softly. With vast effort, she hefted her vast stuffed belly forward, and placed a hand on Trace’s thigh. There was no sexuality behind it: it was just a comforting gesture between friends.

Trace looked back and smiled bashfully, but happily, as Ahsoka spoke. ‘Part of letting yourself go like this means you want blood to rush down there. Don’t ever be ashamed of it; especially not around me!’ Their eyes met, and Trace knew she was safe.

Trace curled her legs around her chair and dragged it forward, closer to Ahsoka. She braved putting a hand on the Togruta’s orange dome of a belly. She probed it, stroked it, gaining in confidence. Then she brought her other arm up, and held her full rotundity with both hands. Ahsoka leaned back in her chair again, ready to be worshipped. The compression of salt and sugar and dairy in her stomach made worse by her act of leaning forward, Trace lowered herself off her seat and knelt before Ahsoka, her face at eye level with her belly.

It was so big. So round, and despite how much food was in there, still so soft. Trace didn’t want to hurt Ahsoka, so she didn’t jiggle or slap her belly: she just stroked it and rubbed it with her hands, helping her digest her massive meal. Soon she was planting gentle, sweet kisses all over it. Ahsoka had made Lux slap her gut when it was even more stuffed than this, but she was too exhausted to take her usual dominant role. Instead, she just closed her eyes, caressed Trace’s short hair, and let herself sink into her affections like a warm bath.

She started moaning when Trace moved up to her chest, removed her shirt, and, still rubbing and loving her belly, used her mouth on Ahsoka’s tits instead. They were full and sagging, as always, and her nipples grew hard in contrast to the flabby flesh as Trace kissed and licked her, oh-so-gentle.

This must have gone on for more than half an hour, Ahsoka getting more and more excited all the while, before Trace finally started to move towards the natural finale to her attentions. She encountered a slight snag when Ahsoka’s trousers refused to be pulled off. The ex-Jedi tried to lift her butt, but was too stuffed and out-of-shape to keep herself elevated for long enough.

‘Rip them,’ Ahsoka commanded, just a hint of her normal fire in her voice. Trace instantly obeyed, tearing the sweats apart with her as-yet-still-strong arms.

Then she was kissing Ahsoka down there, as she’d described it. She was undeniably passionate, tongue lancing and rolling and sucking up all her friend’s juices. But she remained gentle as well: slow and tender, hands still rubbing Ahsoka’s belly. It really did feel considerably lighter now.

Trace’s slow pace was also deliciously frustrating. More than once Ahsoka felt herself approaching completion, only for the mechanic to retract her tongue for a time, kiss her thick, pliant thighs, and only very gradually circle back to the main event. Such was her ability to tantalise, that Ahsoka found herself panting as if she actually had walked up all those floors back to the shop, eyelids fluttering, lost in a haze of white.

Until, finally, Trace didn’t pull back. She kept her tongue lodged inside Ahsoka’s pussy walls, and kissed and sucked as before, still soft but much more insistent. It didn’t take much of that for Ahsoka to start bucking her hips.

‘OHHHHHHHHHH, FOOOOOORRRRRRRRCE!’ she screamed, loud enough that Trace wondered if they could hear her on the next floor up. Such thoughts were soon knocked out of her, however, as she leaned back and let Ahsoka squirt all over her face, savouring the feeling of wet, warm ropes of her cum splattering all over her now-red visage.

Ahsoka grunted and groaned, still at a cacophonous volume, until finally she lay still, once again terrifically out-of-breath.

The ex-Jedi was forced to open her eyes again when she heard somebody clearing their throat. She only found the source of the noise when Trace gasped and stared, her cum-streaked face turning bright pink, back the way they had come in.

Rafa was standing there, hands on hips. She’d stayed downstairs to help with the clearing-up (and forge some new business avenues while she was at it). Unlike the others, she hadn’t overindulged, and her breathing hadn’t changed an iota from the climb back upstairs.

If you looked past her veneer of confidence, though, you could tell she was actually very shocked. Trace knew all the signs. There was a red tinge to her own cheeks, and her eyes were unavoidably wide even as the rest of her face made clear her disapproval. Even Ahsoka, who knew her less well, could discern that she wasn’t as unperturbed by the sight as she was pretending.

‘In future, could you two please make sure you do anything like that in the back?’ she asked. Her voice was mostly sharp, but it cracked very slightly on her last word. She cleared her throat again. Her next sentence was flawlessly acerbic. ‘I wouldn’t want any customers seeing such a sight, and I’d rather not have to watch you two freaks either.’

Trace felt the cold sweat of embarrassment on the back of her neck, but then she remembered what Ahsoka had told her before she’d eaten her out. ‘Part of letting yourself go like this means you want blood to rush down there. Don’t ever be ashamed of it; especially not around me!’

So the younger Martez sister grinned proudly, and said: ‘Sure thing, sis. But I think you’ll still be able to hear Ahsoka through the walls.’ The said fat Togruta sniggered.

Rafa’s red tinge became a full-on blush, and she cleared her throat for the third time. ‘Yes, well, um, so long as it doesn’t interfere with sales…’ she mumbled. Trace noticed she hadn’t looked away from them once.

‘Sure you don’t want to join in?’ she cajoled. ‘Us freaks really do know how to have fun.’

‘I can vouch for that, and I’ll tell you now your sister is one of the finest freaks I’ve ever met,’ Ahsoka called from her languid seat, radiating lazy euphoria.

Now it was Rafa experiencing cold sweat on the back of her neck. She almost cleared her throat again, then realised how silly that would have looked, and instead rushed away to the back room herself, muttering something about new orders to put into the ledgers.

Once she’d disappeared, Trace and Ahsoka exploded with laughter, until Trace grimaced and clutched her belly. Her mirth had made it churn.

‘Trace, lie down.’ It was an order, full of passion and lust.

Ahsoka’s tone alone made Trace aroused. She laid back without hesitation, and watched in impressed surprise as her obese friend, her obese lover, picked herself up off her chair, and, kicking it clumsily back, knelt above her belly and her pussy.

‘You’re… quick to move,’ the mechanic commented, and the double meaning wasn’t lost on Ahsoka.

‘Well, your belly rubs made all that food digest much faster,’ Ahsoka said, slapping her gut, making ripples in the fat again. She lifted it up, weighed it, and let it flop, quaking, back down atop her ripped trousers. ‘And your sister’s comments have got my other hunger all riled up again.’ She lay horizontally on the floor, not wanting to stay supported on her knees for too long. Her belly bunched up and she wobbled her arse in the air behind her. Trace was sopping as Ahsoka put one hand on her belly, gentle as she had been, the cold metal of her ring balming, while two fingers from her other plunged forcefully into her pussy. The young pilot yelped, and managed to look up to Ahsoka’s fat, horny face once more.

‘And now I’m going to return both your favours.’