Oleana Slob Story WIP

As voted on by you, my patrons, here's a story about Oleana from Pokemon gorging herself to the size and smell of her Gigantamax Garbodor.

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Oleana was known for having a bit of a temper at the best of time, but losing to Galar's champion and the subsequent collapse of the Macro Cosmos organization had truly pushed her over the edge. The methods she engaged in for ensuring that such a loss would never happen again were a bit...extreme. 

    The chain of logic she followed that got her to this point was fairly reasonable. She had lost because her signature Pokemon, her beloved Gigantamax Garbador, had failed to act as the trump card she hoped it would. So, if she wanted to win next time, she would have to train her Pokemon to be stronger. And, in order to train it, she would need to strengthen the bond between it and her. And what better way to strengthen that bond than by becoming just like it?

    What were her Gigantamax Gardevoir's primary traits that she would have to replicate in order to become a better trainer to it? Why, it's immense size and potent stench, of course. And so, Oleana committed to making herself massive and malodorous to match in order to assure that she would never lose another battle again. It made sense to Oleana in the moment, at least, in the haze of fury that she found herself in. Training aside, she was definitely in the mood to eat her feelings and truly, shamelessly let herself go. 

    And so, with Rose indisposed, she used her authority as vice-chairman to clear all employees out of the Macro Cosmos cafeteria, after, of course, making sure that it was still fully stocked. At lunchtime, she made her way down, and was greeted to a dining area that was indeed completely empty of people, but full of enough food to feed them all if they had been there. After double checking both entrances to make sure that nobody was watching her, the chairwoman began to dig in.

    The food served at Macro Cosmos was of surprisingly high quality for cafeteria food, but that barely mattered to Oleana, as she slobbishly crammed handfuls of whatever she could reach into her awaiting, greedy mouth. Her lack of regard for manners was apparent, as she sloppily chewed the mass of food between her puffed-out cheeks in a manner that really was reminiscent to that of a feral, starving Pokemon. Her white coat served as an excellent canvas for all the multicolored food stains that she quickly acquired, and the red blouse that she wore underneath had already begun to ride up as her stomach swelled.

    "Need...more..." she grunted, as she sloppily shoved another fistful of whatever was closest down her gullet without so much as glancing to check what it was. Taste wasn't a concern for her, nor was the nutritional value of whatever it was she was consuming. It could've been literal garbage for all she cared. All that mattered to her was getting bigger, so big that she would never lose again.

    And she was indeed getting bigger. Already, the effects of all the calories she was horridly ingesting were beginning to make themselves visible. Her expanding midsection was the most conspicuous example, but her pants were beginning to grow tight around her increasingly flabby ass and thighs. Her metabolism was in overdrive, with the food she consumed being processed into fat almost the instant it landed in her stomach. Once the food was processed by her body and absorbed in the form of nutrients, all that was left were bubbles of gas, which Oleana allowed to erupt foully and wetly from either end without a care, barely interrupting her eating if at all.

    (BELCH)

    (FART)

    Thick waves of humid gastric gas erupted out of Oleana's mouth in a shower of spittle, or from her ass into her tights with a worryingly wet sound. Her immediate vicinity quickly became polluted with the reek of her filthy expulsions. Their foul odor did little to put Oleana off her meal, however. Only her belches gave her pause, and that was simply because it was hard to shove food into her increasingly chubby cheeks when so much gas was being forced out. In fact, the aura of gut funk that began to surround her was exactly what she wanted. She desired to match her signature Pokemon in both sheer size and smell. It seemed like she was on the right path for both, as her now flabby, cellulite-riddled rear blasted out another trumpeting fart as she hastily crammed another avalanche of food between her gluttonous jaws.

    The chair beneath her began to creak under her ever-increasing weight, her flabby thighs spilling out over the sides. It wasn't just her seat that was becoming increasingly inadequate for her new girth, however. Her clothes themselves were starting to stretch under the strain. Her tights were the first to go. With an audible "riiiip" that could've easily been mistaken for one of her farts, her thick thighs, fat calves and cankles all came spilling out at once like dough from a split tube.