Murakumo WG - Kancolle (one shot)

As the self-declared pride of the naval fleet, why shouldn’t she have another helping?

Murakumo’s magnificent frame rocked the comparatively tiny stool she subjected her girth to which caused the metal to groan underneath it. Such complaints of structural warping went unheeded as she considered anything unable to withstand being graced by her 500+ pounds to immediately be of poor craftsmanship. With the extra weight she had put on in the last two weeks alone, more and more chairs and benches would be identified by her scorn.

“If only those maintainance fairies would do their god damn jobs instead of just eating all the time...”

She ignored the round ball of a girl which lazily rolled across the table and took her seat. Her latest victim had given up the ghost far sooner than its counterparts, forcing her to waddle to her feet and search for a yet another temporary throne to house her majestic hips. Lugging all of her to other side of the table would have been a mission for any other fleet girl who had dared to neglect her training despite reaching such a massive size, but this was not the case for Murakumo. Every pound she gained of fat was equally matched by a pound of muscle, somewhere underneath all that smooth adipose; at least that was what she claimed.

Being big wasn’t to deter her from looking her best either. Murakumo cleaned and washed like any other, did her hair and even had her work out clothes especially cut to squeeze every jiggling pound into place. Her face round and lovely, with a double chin burgeoning from underneath as a testament to the solid year she had spent padding herself from unrestrained binging.

Murakumo’s arms were lusciously huge, but packed a definition to them which hinted at her being more than just soft and cuddly. Perhaps there was some truth to her regime of bulking and cutting, though at this point, she was very much intent on the bulking.

She sighed heavily as she bit into another fluffy burger, every chewing motion sending ripples down her voluminous sides. Opulent and bulging with rolls, they came together into a great con flux of a belly which surged out of the overstretched fabric and over the sultry, delectably ripe voluptuousness of her hips and waist.

Clearing all this food faster not only served to help fatten her up faster, but to provide the much needed room she required for her pillowy breasts which were already so mammoth and heavy that they would sag well over her belly if given the chance to free themselves from the industrial strength sports bra that held them aloft. Keeping them upright was the most intense part of her physical training that had yielded to her taut upper body strength.

That wasn’t to say that her lower half was any less sumptuous. Each leg was rounder and monumentally massive, tapering pillars of pure adipose right down to the ankles. Each massive thigh was as thick as the largest of soda bottles and packed just as much pressure behind them to propel her enormity forward.

Behind her all, and well out of view from her current position, was her most bulbous and billowing of assets, an ass so titanic that its soft spheres of femininity jutted out to a point where drinks could be served off the shelf which had formed behind her with perfect balance.

Transfixed by her own beauty, Murakumo knew how to leverage it to her advantage as she made her way to the edge of the table, where her commander watched her take in all that the facility had to serve. Her sudden dry mouth attempted to swallow hard several times in an attempt to try and advise her to slow down, but was caught trying to form ways to articulate her provocative beauty. Both attempts at words would fall short however as she instead opted to signal more food to be brought her way an continue the cycle which had lead her to become this huge in the first place.

“There’s a big sortie on today, so I’ll be having an extra serving. Make sure you watch me nice and close, okay admiral?”

Smiling mischiviously back at her, Murakumo continued to feed herself with her right hand as she playfully patted the nearest bulge on her globular body with her left.

“I am happy to report that the extra munitions you have requisitioned for me the night before have not reduced my girlish figure any. In fact, according to the docking scale this morning, your star destroyer has reached a tidy 550 pounds of abyssal fleet doom.”

Automatically calculating the difference between this week’s weigh in and the last sent a pleasurable jolt through the lady admiral. Nearly 26 more pounds in such a short amount of time with not even a shred of doubt that she was exaggerating for the sake of impressing her. Murakumo cared little for how others saw her, with her attention focused solely on manifesting her own results of her own accord as well as to further her own military strength.

“D-does that include the pizza slice you’re holding onto too?”

Murakumo looked at her latest culinary victim and scoffed.

“Why, no it does not,” she replied, her haughty tone both reminding her of the fate of her uneaten victim and annoyance at the implication that she would aggrandize her size for someone else’s amusement.

To make her point definitive, Murakumo quickly downed not only the slice but the several others still remaining in the box in only a handful of bites.

“Make that, 550 and 1/4th of a pound.”

Ignoring the admiral’s involuntary moan of agonized ecstasy, she slowly and sensually licked the residual sauce from her pudgy fingers one by one in a manner that left no doubt what so ever that she had consumed every last calorie.

“Resources are precious during war,” Murakumo happily chirped once the last trace of sauce had left her lips. “Waste not and bust out.”

“S-speaking of which, shall I requisition you a new exercise outfit?” the admiral strained for self control. “I-I should imagine that you’ve put that one through its paces.”

“Now that you mention it, I should see that you would,” Murakumo replied as she slowly made her way back around the table to where she had been previously seated. The admiral hated when she would tease her like that instead of inviting her to help her out of her clothes. “It’s especially tight up front.”

Then, with some difficulty owing to the fullness of her gigantic belly, she gradually leaned back and allowed both it and her breasts to puff themselves out to their fullest, creating the illusion of her going up several bust sizes in a second. This continued at least until, with a noisy rip, both her bra and her top were sundered straight down the middle, freeing her enormous breasts to clap together atop her gigantic belly.

“Oh dear, look at what your lack of forward planning has lead to,” Murakumo pouted. “A more competent admiral would have already foreseen this and bought me a workout uniform several sizes larger than this.”

Her playful yet demanding tone contrasted with the innocent softness of her lascivious obesity which triggered several sensations in the lady admiral who quickly scrambled to comply with her demands.

Murakumo merely smiled as she continued to feast, with more ‘munitions’ well on the way just for her.

It was good to be on top.