Mm… ulp!

Cla-cla-clack! Another Poké Ball flew from Krystal’s mouth, the fifth of its kind clattering onto the ground. And like the others, it remained both open and empty, caked in the thick stomach slime and dripping saliva of the spacefaring telepath. She sighed, wiping the drool from her lips and pressing her hands into her taut, distended gut in case she hadn’t coughed them all up yet. How many did she consume the previous day? Five, six, maybe seven or eight? The exact number mattered little, really. Any onlooker could take one quick look at the now-voluptuous fox and say the correct answer: enough.

Or perhaps not. She couldn’t quite decide where her own thoughts lie. Krystal vaguely knew about the odd capsule devices and what they did. Seemed like an efficient way of securing the dinner she was rudely denied back home, thanks to that accursed empty trophy stand nearby. And she was right… perhaps a little too right. Whatever was inside those items, at least a few far exceeded her expectations in size. Her hand flew to her mouth in remembrance of her stomach stretching out several sizes, each time adding more mushy outlines from the squirming beasts within.

But they all eventually faded, succumbing to the unexplained enhanced strength of her digestive system. Each prey routinely shrunk, compacted, melted by gastric juices and her delightfully stretchy suit. Yet her thin hope before falling asleep, that she could return to the Great Fox looking somewhat normal, quickly made itself known as a pipe dream. A quiet “hmph” escaped Krystal as she appraised the mountainous makeover she didn’t ask for.

Unfortunately, her latex-clad suit proved far more agreeable than she thought possible. Krystal quickly found that, paradoxically, the fabric was pulled to its absolute limits from chest to thigh, yet when pressed, conformed to her touch with minimal resistance. Every single touch sent an uncomfortable chill down her spine. Any given spot radiated warmth and squish of varying degrees. Her breasts, so egregiously stacked that they pushed themselves outward as well as forward, were as plush boulders held together by the thinnest strings, closer to a single mass with a divide crudely driven into them. One could easily suffocate from the heat alone, if the grand pressure of her pliable jugs didn’t suffice. Perhaps a useful trick on occasion, but simply getting around?

She shook her head. Her hands slipped between the stacked bust, a crevice which felt several times longer than it looked, eventually arriving at her flabby gut. Rather than pile the most excess weight higher or lower, and maybe tear the suit a little for convenience’s sake, Krystal found her belly a shapeless mound where her fingers vanished, overwhelmed by layers upon layers of fluffy fat. Hearty gwurps easily reached her ears as she poked, kneaded, and gripped the area with aggressive determination, compelled to understand the extent of the damage. Those creatures certainly left their mark everywhere, even the chamber they all departed after digestion. She would have been impressed, had they not inconvenienced her so.

And finally… the fox rolled her eyes. Take everything above, combine it, and double it. No, maybe even triple it. How could the suit’s designer possible foresee an expansion so excessive? Not a single rip in sight… emphasis on “sight,” as the tiny chill on each side of her hips could only come from a bit of scandalous exposure. Not that she could remotely see all of her bottom half, courtesy of these massive peaks. Her rumpcheeks weren’t just pushed to the brim. They wanted out. Their impeccable curvaceous form cared little for their confines, yet her outfit cared nothing for their plight. Her fingers traced along meaty mounds of steel, outlined in perfectly shapely, glossy detail. She could ill afford to pinch or press, so well-preserved were her body’s enhancements. Any small disturbance might grant the freedom her luscious ass desired, tearing through the eye-catching exterior entirely and exposing her raw assets in their purest form.

“Maybe… I shouldn’t return until I work all this off,” she muttered, afraid to turn too much and send herself crashing to the ground. “There’s always some fighting going on around here. Surely I could work all this off with them, so Slippy won’t have to build me a whole new Arwing…”


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Fun little write up done by  PoncoCykes, giving a little backstory for how Krystal got so big! Thanks again!

WIPs:
https://imgur.com/a/VzYOkCA

Krystal © Nintendo

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