Kotaro had long since retreated into the warm comfort of the sake hidden inside his office, locked and barred from the world outside whilst he busied himself with drowning in his despair. Whilst a semi-regular event such as this would normally spur the girls of the household into some manner of contrived action to restore the perceived order in their unlives, by some ill-event of fate, all was silent within the decrepit mansion.

Nearly silent, in actuality; a noise, irregular and difficult to discern, echoed throughout the darkened halls-a mad groaning of some long dead phantasm? Perhaps the building itself crying out in response to the treatment of it’s crumbling walls. The answer laid deep the heart of the basement, in a cage of thick iron bars surrounded by a vast stretch of darkness contrasting sharply with the well polished mahogany of the wooden entrance.

Aside from an oddly placed blackboard, there lay only one occupant of pseudo-prison: splayed along the concrete floor, one might assume her as dead as her cold grey flesh would suggest-a technically correct assumption, if not for the surprisingly agile ambulation and unrelenting hunger. Normally without breath, the legendary undead known as Tae Yamada let her chest heave upwards, resting atop her engorged middle as it too raised and fell in rhythmic motions unsuited to her existence. With every motion a mix of heavy broth roiled about within the gravid ashy cauldron, sending waves of cacophony bouncing throughout the stone cellar, a would-be lure for any who would have happened upon the isolated building.

What had started as a session to bring about the second coming of the group known as Franchouchou had quickly devolved into petty squabbles and infighting; the more heated the atmosphere became, the less docile Tae found herself-pouncing upon not only the redheaded target of her affections, but also the rest of her bandmates. One after another, she consumed the idol group in it’s entirety, consolidating several generations worth of talent into her doughy middle as she slept peacefully on the stone floor.

The arguing didn’t halt within her stomach, only harried to a sooner resolution by reinvigorated juices-eager to work on so much meat after being left inactive for so long, even if the bountiful meal was somewhat stale itself. The six other idols soon found themselves five as the smallest of them quickly fell apart under the stress of digestion, alongside being crammed between the mash of bodies occupying Tae’s gut. Ai and Junko soon followed, melding together as their embrace lost cohesion and summarily dissolved into the growing pool surrounding the other three members. Saki attempted to fight her way out, but her refusal to submit only lead to wearing herself out sooner, and she crumbled into slop before that of the more passive Yugiri, whom simply accepted what was occurring as the result of her own lack of preparation-she wished Kotaro luck in his future endeavors, convinced that he would eventually find some way to salvage their demises in some way.

When Yugiri finally melted, left alone inside the broiling organ was one Sakura Minamoto-still finding difficulty in having seen her only friends liquify before her undead eyes. Relapsing into her previous depression, Sakura reclined into the broth-simply too tired and emotionally drained to even attempt to stave off her inevitable digestion. She just knew that anything she involved herself with would end up doomed; in consolation, she supposed that if anyone were to eat her Sakura didn’t mind quite so much that it would be Tae. She had a growing affection for the raven haired zombie, and she had already become accustomed to the sensation of having her head chewed on a daily basis-perhaps if she closed her eyes, she could bask in the almost relaxing atmosphere of her friend and take comfort that she was finally allowed to be helpful?

As Sakura joined the rest of her colleagues, Tae found herself disturbed from her slumber by a massive exhalation of fumes-the belch synchronous with the final pieces of rigidity vacating her belly, leaving it a smooth orb jutting from beneath her tattered habit. Somewhat interested in the presentation of the newest addition to her figure, Tae batted and kneaded the plump swell-numerous glorps and groans orbiting her frame, disrupted by the occasional eruption from deep within her smoldering tummy.

After several hours, the scope of her middle reduced itself from several meters to something within the realms of reality-if having 60% of one’s bodyweight be centered entirely on their stomach could be considered normal; the topmost segment of her dress could cover at least a small portion of the grey orb, and even less of her plump rear end, the contents of her stomach now turned to a thick and plush tub of lard, signifying that the girls of Franchouchou had successfully graduated to a solo act.


Yeah, I know-Tae get’s a story because she’s a favorite and because it didn’t take me very long to type this on my phone. Looks like they should have kept their dog on a tighter leash, and I’m not talking of Romero.

This was done up as a Patreon Reward, by:

https://www.patreon.com/mofu

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