[Marisa WG Story] When Things Go Pear-Shaped

The Troubles of Marisa

(Note: This story is meant to be read after the Reimu and Patchouli WG sequences.)

Life was quite easy for Marisa, shop owner, burglar, part-time youkai hunter and the ordinary magician of an extraordinary land filled with out of the ordinary events that happen with unordinary coordination. She supposedly owned a shop, which would make her part of the petite bourgeoise of Gensokyo. However, Marisa only fulfilled the “petite” part of this label as nobody really conducted business with her, due to the fact that her shop was just a shack next to her house which lay deep in the Forest of Magic where no sane people dared enter. Without a job to do Marisa earnt most of her income by stealing other’s possessions: money, food, hearts… There was no precious thing Marisa could steal without consequence. The rest of her time was spent foraging, learning magic, and bumming around Gensokyo.

All of the above was perfectly satisfactory to Marisa. She was happy to spend the rest of her limited mortal life being the resident Casanova of Gensokyo, yet the only constant standing unchanged in this changing world is change itself, and change hit like the last spell card of Junko on Lunatic difficulty.

Marisa had ended up unleashing two beasts of gluttony upon Gensokyo and it was her responsibility to keep them fed. By morning she’d spend her days cooking and baking, in the afternoon she’d feed Reimu and by evening she’d feed Patchouli and borrow more ingredients from the Scarlet Devil Mansion for the next day. Rinse and repeat as time marches ever forwards.

Among the two, Patchouli was the best (or worst depending on which way you look at it) at eating. The cycle had come to evening once again where Marisa would have to visit her. She flew in to the library without much difficulty, a large sack of confectionaries attached to her broom as was usual. “Patchouli, where’re you?” This question was one out of courtesy. Even a blind person could see the large pink-and-purple blob sitting somewhere amongst the bookshelves. Marisa landed somewhere near this blob, leaving her broom leaning somewhere on one of the countless bookshelves. “Top o’ the night to ya, Patchouli.”

“Oh, welcome Marisa. Come in.” Marisa was already in, so she wasn’t sure where she was being invited into. She made her way towards Patchouli, who was sitting on a throne made out of books. The ordinary magician / chef left the sack of pastries in front of Patchouli for her to consume. Then came Marisa’s favorite part: leaning on Patchouli while watching her gorge on the food prepared for her. She found a particularly soft spot on Patchouli’s belly and let her head rest there.

Patchouli was an exceptional case in terms of gluttony, a “natural-born feedee” as one might call her. She was actually a natural-born witch, but that only served to enhance the previous part. A couple months ago she looked like a half-living half-dead sack of shut-in bones who subsided on pure magic energy instead of food. That last part was actually true for Patchouli: her body just used magic for energy. That meant she didn’t burn any calories. In a couple months she had turned from a thin pink line to something more akin to a dwarf planet made of fat. Even if she was an ordinary biological creature with calories to burn it probably wouldn’t have made a difference judging from her endless lust for food. Despite Marisa’s best efforts to put an enormous pile of food in front of her, Patchouli could consume it in record time. When the food was finished, she’d go for the crumbs that had fallen on to her dress while lamenting those that had been lost into the deep pits of her cleavage. Patchouli would probably lick the floor in search of crumbs if she could actually bend down to reach it without feeling like she was going to suffocate and / or throw up from the pressure on her stomach. At the end of her run of daily gluttony Patchouli would look like a ripened tomato due to forgoing breathing for swallowing, and the grand library of the Scarlet Devil Mansion would be rocked thoroughly from all the gas escaping her mouth. Marisa would be clinging on to her in the meanwhile, exploring Patchouli’s constantly expanding folds of blubber and intently listening to her gulp down everything. Her comrade-in-magic would have previously denied such a brazen action of lust, but many things had been unshackled along with her gluttony. Patchouli sometimes intentionally leaned over to smother Marisa in her vast mounds of dough-like breasts, embracing the ordinary magician with her plump arms to make sure she was as deep as she could be. This was as close to heaven as Marisa would probably ever get (especially considering her kleptomania which was unfortunately not considered a virtue by most deities).

After their session for the day was completed, Marisa noticed something weird: a couple of uneaten scones were left in the sack. “Don’t you like them?” she asked with great concern. It was of upmost importance that Patchouli wouldn’t reject the food.

“No, I saw you eyeing them up constantly.” Patchouli took out one of them and hovered it somewhere near Marisa’s mouth. “I thought that maybe you’d like some?”

“Ah…” Marisa was surprised. She wasn’t sure how to respond to this sudden change in roles. “Thanks, but bein’ a fat-ass would be real inconvenient for me. I have to fly around everywhere, and I already have trouble flying with all the extra weight from the food I’m bringi- Ah!” Her speech was interrupted by a loud slap that could probably be heard from all the way to the moon. “W-What are you doing?” Marisa felt the librarian caressing her buttocks with her fat fingers. “Can’tcha at least clean your hands beforedoing that? I had just washed these in the morning.” She had to suppress a moan from the gentle caress washing over her behind.

“Oh, I was just thinking that you should look at your own fat ass before making that comment.” Indeed, what Mother Nature had taken away from Marisa in her top half had been refunded generously on her lower parts. The rest of her body was thin as a twig and flat as a freshly cut board, but the heavens above had blessed her with two mounds that seemed fatter and thicker than the current state of Patchouli. “Mount Fuji, even Mount Everest pales in comparison to what you’ve got down there. I’m surprised your broom hasn’t broken by now from the sheer weight.”

“Geez, fine…” Marisa took the scone from Patchouli. She couldn’t defeat a well-read witch like her in a battle of words and wit; the ordinary magician was unsure of where even Mount Everest exactly was. “I’ll humor ya.” She took a few small bites out of her own cooking. “What’s so good about eating so much anyways? Just a bite is enough for me to enjoy the food.”

Patchouli swallowed an entire scone in one go before replying “Theoretical knowledge can only be expanded upon by experience and experimentation.” This was her fancy way of saying “go try it out yourself to find out”.

“Yeah, as if I’ll do something like that.” Marisa took another scone anyways. She didn’t want to seem to be backing down. She finished off everything she had brought by eating two more, which was more than enough to make her feel full already. The ordinary magician leaned back and melted into librarian’s body once more, the words of Patchouli making rounds around her mind the only thing bothering her.

Just One Bite

Marisa had ended up falling asleep on Patchouli last night. Upon waking up she quickly raided the Scarlet Devil Mansion’s pantry, almost got caught by the head maid who had decided to raid the pantry at the same time and made her way safely back home after avoiding Sakuya’s barrage of silver knives and non-stick pans. As the orange sun shone down upon Marisa’s golden locks, she was once more reminded of the fact that another day had arrived while she was busy playing with Patchouli. Another day meant more work, more work meant more food and more food meant more folds for Marisa to play with. It was quite a good deal all things considered. She put her newly acquisitioned ingredients onto a counter in her kitchen and gently「Master Spark」’d the range up to ready it for another day of working hard (and then playing hard).

By now Marisa was a one-woman assembly line of food. In a minute she’d prepare the batter, on the next she’d shape it to resemble something cute, and finally the finished product would go on a tray next to its siblings. Most of her produce was sweets and pastries: they didn’t rot, smell, Marisa couldn’t make normal food without adding poisonous shrooms into it, and who doesn’t wish to gorge on sweets? She did wish so too, but eating the stuff she made for others kind of defeated the purpose. Lines upon lines of food would march in front of the ordinary magician’s eyes, tempting her every moment to take one or two or three or ten… or more. She’d keep Reimu and Patchouli in her mind to dispel the temptation. This worked just fine, Marisa was happy enough with watching the others eat. Today however, there was a little something bugging her…

‘Theoretical knowledge can only be expanded upon by experience and experimentation.’ Damn you, Patchouli! It was as if a serpent, dressed in pink-and-purple, had managed to tempt Marisa with her words. After her personal record of four scones in a row, Marisa was quite curious as to how it’d feel if she just let go for today. Of course, she wouldn’t go too far. Maybe a couple of those large star-shaped candies over there?

Just a couple, she thought. Just a few she took into her hands. Just one she bit the tip out of. “Mm…” Just sweet it felt as it melted in her buds. Just one she slowly melted and gobbled down. Just as slowly she planned to eat the next, just as quickly she threw that idea away and chewed the entire candy down without stopping. Just then the third, then the fourth, then the fifth met its demise in her mouth. Just after that Marisa realized she had none in her hands, and just ‘a little bit more’ she took. Just as expected that little bit more just grew and grew until the entire tray was finished just in one sitting.

How sweet gluttony is that it manages to transform a “just” into a frenzy of eating! Marisa’s entire body, especially her stomach, was objecting by the time she put the third candy in, yet she kept going. The star-shaped candies were all consumed, which spelt doom for the knock-off croissants next tray over. The ordinary magician could feel her skirt and shirt stretch just a bit further to make room. Even that little bit her stuffed her to a point where she felt dizzy. Marisa caressed her slightly distended stomach for a bit out of curiosity, “Hngh… Burp, why is it so soft…” That curiosity turned into action when she headed for yet another tray, this one filled with melon buns. They were a little bigger than her previous opponents, but with a little bit of difficulty they all went in nonetheless. “Haah, haah…” That was it. She was no match for Reimu or Patchouli, and not one more bite could be taken by her. Marisa watched with heavy breath and made a noise between groaning and moaning while her stomach churned and protested at the difficult job suddenly thrown at its way. She had to pull up her shirt to make some room, and her belly flopped out as she did so. Marisa couldn’t help but play with what had flopped out, smooshing and kneading it like she’d do with the other fatties. It was quite the embarrassing sight, one that the ordinary magician was grateful she was alone in witnessing. For a while Marisa could only lay on the counter with hands on her belly, she felt like moving could upset the fragile balance her stomach had somehow achieved.

I’m never doing this again… Or, well, I can do it just once a month… Or just once every week? Or…

Marisa had once again set things in motion, things that couldn’t be stopped once they got rolling. As one wise chap once said “A body remains at rest, or in motion at a constant speed in a straight line, unless acted upon by a force.”, and there was no opposite force strong enough to act upon Marisa. Perhaps she should’ve stopped when even her empty stomach began jutting out her shirt, or when Patchouli began to be even more handsy with Marisa’s softening butt, or when the ordinary magician’s broom snapped in twain as the librarian had predicted.

A Measured Response

Rinnosuke was a man of peace. A man of calm, a self-proclaimed shrewd businessman who was a glorified hoarder of miscellanea. His days came and went sitting behind the counter, warmed by a diesel-fueled heater with the occasional troublesome customer butting in to disturb him. He was more fit to be a museum curator rather than a shopkeeper but alas, Gensokyo wasn’t exactly the most suitable place to build a museum.

Like usual, another one of his idle days of peace and quiet were broken by a sudden knock on the door. He didn’t know why his guest was knocking; there was a sign clearly stating that he was open for business hung on the door. “Kourin, can I come in?” It was a familiar voice, belonging to Marisa of the Kirisame family. What wasn’t familiar was her being courteous enough to knock on the door and asking for permission. Marisa was the sort of gal who’d barge in and immediately begin talking about the cool thing she picked up on her walk. Rinnosuke knew her since she was little so he was very much used to Marisa’s antics. Seeing her not barge in actually made him a bit nervous.

“Yes, there’s an ‘open’ sign on the front. Open for customers that is.”

The door to the store was opened only the slightest little bit. Marisa’s head reluctantly popped into Rinnosuke’s view from that small gap. “I’ve got one small favor…”

“Is it red mahogany again?” Rinnosuke remembered the long quest he had to go on when he had to refurbish an antique wardrobe in Marisa’s house.

“Nah.” Marisa still hadn’t entered the shop. “I need a new broom. Any old one will do. Also, a new set of clothes would be real nice.”

Rinnosuke waited for Marisa to enter the room, but she was still clinging onto the door frame and refusing to show anything beyond her head. “Marisa, you do know that I can’t easily conduct business if you don’t enter my shop, right?” He took out a pencil and a tape measure (one of his favorites, one with premium fiberglass tape from the Outside World) to make his point. “I’ll just end up making something that suffocates you if I can’t measure anything.”

“Err…” Rinnosuke could see Marisa look at the tape with fear. He knew that younger women could be especially self-conscious about their measurements, but he had never seen Marisa have such a reaction. “Can’tcha just… not do that?”

“Ugh…” Rinnosuke looked at the ceiling as if he was wishing for some sort of divine intervention. He’d prefer it if Marisa had just barged in and taken his stuff. He was just a honest businessman looking to do business and loiterers like Marisa were definitely not conductive to business. “Marisa, I’ve known you since you were a little child who couldn’t even chew her food properly. Believe me, the one or two pounds you might have gained over the winter is nothing compared to the many other things I’ve seen from you over the years like…” He was about to begin reciting some of Marisa’s embarrassing childhood memories, but Rinnosuke was interrupted by the ordinary magician finally letting go of her grip on the door and letting it open. “…what the?!”

The sight now revealed in front of him was enough to shock even a calm man like Rinnosuke. The petite little girl he had known for so long had suddenly ballooned into something else. He could see why she needed a new set of clothes. The clothes she had on her had were barely holding on, a ripped thread or two in her skirt baring the top of her shapely ass which led into thick stumps of juicy thighs. Marisa’s shirt had already given up on its function and her belly was on full display, moving up, down, left and right whenever she moved in any way, making waves of fat appear. At least the upper part of her shirt hadn’t gotten much tighter and her hat didn’t need replacement, which was a big plus for Rinnosuke: all the frills on Marisa’s hat were quite a bother to make. Tailoring the rest of her clothes, which were undoubtedly going to be large, was going to be quite a bother.

Rinnosuke got up from his chair, taking a deep breath and approaching Marisa. He did his best not to appear shocked by putting on his usual professional and indifferent face. “…Alright, raise your arms.” He watched as the bountiful fat on Marisa’s arms jiggled from this simple movement. Rinnosuke opened the tape measure up and did his best to wrap it all around Marisa’s waist. He found this was a whole lot harder when Marisa’s belly extended far enough that his arms couldn’t easily reach the other side, especially when she was breathing in. Rinnosuke had further problems with the fact that his tape measure was meant for the average Japanese and not the average American, which meant that it fell short of fully wrapping around Marisa’s overly pudgy waist. He could only suffice by making an educated guess about how long the uncovered bit was.

“I’m done. You can lower your arms.” Rinnosuke coiled back the tape measure. He could already feel his head ache thinking of how much work he’d have to do for the larger clothes. “I should be finishing your clothes by next week. I might have some difficulties if you want an larger outfit in the future, so keep that in mind.” He also took out a broom from a closet, a modern one from the Outside World with a steel handle.

Marisa seemed a whole lot more relaxed now. Not having her clothes be torn from her sheer mass would be a nice change of pace. “No need to worry, I’m eatin’ in moderation!” She paused to look at Rinnosuke with hope in her eyes and a growl coming from her stomach. “It’s just a teeny tiny little bit, isn’t it? I- It’s just a bit of chub, combined with my clothes shrinkin’ in the wash… It’s mostly the shrinking clothes, I’ve gotten unlucky with that recently, it’s as if everything’s shrinking.”

Rinnosuke looked away from Marisa to hide the pure cynicism openly displayed on his face. “Uhm… yeah, it might be a fairy pranking you…” He offered a few words to reassure Marisa out of courtesy.

“That’s probably it!” Marisa snatched the broom from Rinnosuke’s hands. The floor beneath her shook as a huge mass ran on it to reach the door. “Thanks, Kourin! I’m going out to beat up some fairies until things are back to normal!”

Marisa didn’t even bother to close the shop’s door, immediately seating herself on the broom. Her plans for flight were interrupted when a horrible snapping noise came from the steel handle which had bent around and contorted around Marisa’s mountain-like behind, proving that fat asses can melt steel beams. She fell on the floor with a loud thud, screaming “Kourin! The bloody broom broke, what kinda flimsy trash did you give me?!”

Rinnosuke shed a silent tear at the broken broom. He gave Marisa a few more brooms to no avail. She eventually gave up and flew away without a broom, which actually played no part in her ability to fly as it was purely a cosmetic item to begin with.

Things Go Pear-Shaped

Today, something unprecedented was happening in Gensokyo: Patchouli was touching grass.

It was an odd feeling to the unmoving great library. For a while she had never seen the sun, and for a good reason as her pale skin was as easily burnt as white phosphorus. She had borrowed an umbrella from the mistress to protect herself during this arduous journey to the great outdoors. What was worst for her was the fact that she had to travel, not an exciting proposition from someone famous for not being athletic. Even less exciting when that famously non-athletic person had put on weight.

Thankfully she had lost a moderate amount of weight which meant she could comfortably fly. Her pot belly still was still very much visible from her loose dress, swaying like a grandfather clock’s pendulum when she was moving, and her cheeks were still puffy like her favorite sweets, but it was still an improvement over the immobile blob she used to be. The reason for her flight was the same reason as her reason for losing weight: Marisa’s absence. The librarian had noticed her magician comrade putting on some weight for a while, Patchouli relished in that fact even. Especially Marisa’s bottom, which was a joy to play with especially when it only got doughier and doughier. Running her fingers along the planet-like curves, kneading it while watching Marisa suppress a moan… Patchouli had been sorely missing that, and she intended to find the reason behind Marisa’s lack of visitation by paying her house a visit.

In front of Marisa’s house, Patchouli found an unexpected guest: Reimu. She must have had the same problems as the librarian considering their intertwined Marisa-related fates. The miko looked like an apple with her red outfit. She was also shaped liked an apple with a bountiful chest on the top, so grand that a tray could comfortably rest there even if she was standing. They sagged a bit down, so grand were her breasts that her belly was unable to support the mountainous pair properly. Her skirt tightened around her wide hips, carrying convenient love handles in case anyone (Marisa) needed to use them.

Patchouli and Reimu gazed at each other for a second, not speaking much thanks to having reached an understanding the moment of their encounter. Reimu knocked on Marisa’s door. No response came, prompting her to knock even stronger the second time. There was no third time: Patchouli blew away the door with some magic like. What she saw blew her away harder than the poor and innocent door.

“Gulp, glug, pwah…” The source of these sounds was one Marisa Kirisame sitting on the floor. “Nom, bwarp… nom…” It seemed that she was too busy to notice SEAL Team Scarlet raiding her house.

“Marisa?!” And the source of this sound was Reimu and Patchouli in unison.

The one who was the target of this exclamation sluggishly turned her round face, plastered with cream and crumbs, around to meet them. On one of her hands was a giant star-shaped candy, on the other was an oversized not-croissant. Her fat fingers, looking like a ten-pack of greasy sausages, connected to the famous Great Mounds of Flabby Fat (a.k.a. her arms). A blubbery stomach extended out like Mount Fuji toward the front, a giant ass like Mount Everest toward the back. The ordinary magician’s stomach had become a shelf housing food needed for her endless gluttony on top of it, though that had just ended up messing her white shirt and turning it into a multicolored mess. All of this bobbed up and down with each strenuous breath, her already loosened clothes crying out in pain as they were stretched to limits thought unreachable. Her body was a sweaty, greasy mess in general that had only served to eat more and more. “I… Unh… I can explain!”

Patchouli slapped Marisa’s great buttocks in anger mixed with lust. This caused Marisa to release a moan, the first to be witnessed by Patchouli. “The sea of fat rippled, creating waves from her hindside to her juicy, flab-laden thighs. “Where were you all this time?!”

“I…” Marisa couldn’t make an excuse. She had simply wanted all the food to herself.

“I was starving up on that shrine!” Reimu raised her goheiand delivered her anger (and lust) the same way. Marisa released yet another moan, the first to be witnessed by Reimu. Their “punishment” seemed to be having the opposite effect on her, but it did the job of interrupting Marisa’s speech nonetheless. “And you’re here pigging out like it’s nobody’s business!”

Their words were caught by a rumble loud enough to be audible, one coming from Patchouli’s stomach. She rubbed her pudgy belly while looking at Marisa’s stockpile of food, gathered in a circle around the ordinary magician, with malicious intent. “You know what, I think she needs to pay up for what she owes us.”

“But I don’t owe you any- Ah!” Marisa’s rebuttal was censored by Reimu delivering another spank.

Reimu replied to Patchouli with a devilish smile unbefitting of a supposedly holy woman. The two girls looked at each other, reaching another quick agreement. The miko raised her hand and did a sweeping motion as if she was cutting the room in half. “You get all the food on your half, and I get all the food on my half.” Patchouli didn’t even need to give an answer, they both got to work by rushing to grab some food.

“No, wait, I was going to eat all those! Please, at least may I have a morsel left for myself…” Marisa’s protests were silenced by the show of pure unbridled gluttony going on in front of her. She tried to stop them, but her already overstuffed stomach wasn’t cooperative in letting her move swiftly. Her former feedees were doing their best to recompensate for their long stint of not eating, shoveling food in greedily like there was no tomorrow. Both their cheeks looked like chipmunks trying to store nuts, and their bellies grew impregnated by the gods of gluttony shining their favor from up above. These girls had only lost their weight, not their appetites, frantically eating as if they were a hundred pounds larger than they were.

Their frenzy grew to a close, not because they were full but because there was no more to left to eat. Reimu took a deep breath, her head landing on the right side of Marisa. Patchouli took the left, both equally dividing Marisa into Western and Eastern occupation zones. Their stomachs had stopped being simply pudgy and ascended into a new level, looking like two enormous yoga balls made out of lard, with Reimu having two extra ones on top. Even the slightest movement felt uncomfortable with how utterly stuffed they were.

The room was completely silent save for the three girls’ labored breaths. The food weighed too heavy on them to make any conversation. They all stared at the ceiling for a while, waiting for their stomachs to digest the heavy load.

Patchouli broke the silence. “…you know what, I liked it better when Marisa was on my lap while I was reading books.”

“Yeah, she lacks the…” Reimu pointed to Marisa’s chest, which hadn’t changed at all with the weight. “…you know? Just the belly isn’t good enough.” She tried to reach to Marisa’s ass, but her waist was too round. “My hands also need to be busy with something as well.

Marisa could only blush, both from all that blubber in her cheeks making her hot and their comments. She couldn’t object however. Even if she couldn’t admit it openly, she loved being petted and caressed by their fat fingers, she had fun making all the food and watching them eat just now… The sight of them stuffing themselves was truly a sight she loved to witness, she had forgotten about her hunger and watched the scene before her with guilty delight.

“I guess there’s no other way…” Marisa put her hands, one on Reimu’s and other on Patchouli’s shoulder. She squeezed them tight in a hug, one last inversion of their roles. “…you guys will starve without me, won’tcha?”

Reimu and Patchouli were united under the very heavy affection of Marisa, two masses of fat colliding with the help of another greater mass.

…

The cycle had come to evening once again where Marisa would have to make a visit. She flew in to the library without much difficulty, enormous sacks of confectionaries attached to her broom as was usual. “Where’re you?” This question was one out of courtesy. Even a blind person could see the large pink-and-purple blob sitting somewhere amongst the bookshelves, with a red blob next to her. Marisa landed somewhere near these two blobs, leaving her broom leaning somewhere on one of the countless bookshelves. “Top o’ the night to ya lassies.”

Reimu and Patchouli exchanged greetings with Marisa. She was still chubby, leaning on fat, but all the time she used to gorge on food had been turned into time spent on making food for others to gorge on. On the contrary, her women were ballooning out of control with her help. They then promptly abandoned any sense of courtesy upon seeing the stacks of food offered to them. No spoons, forks, just bare hands grabbing whatever they can and showing it down a gullet.

Marisa took an entire cake for herself, resting it on her considerable gut as she sat right in between the feasting fatties. Then came her favorite part: Reimu and Patchouli leaned on each other, squishing Marisa in a seemingly endless pile of warm, soft fat. One of her hands kneaded Reimu’s doughy breasts, while the others operated the love handles of Patchouli. In the meanwhile, Reimu and Patchouli were fondling Marisa as they see fit, she always had to spend time afterwards to wash her clothes after they were covered everywhere with grease.

The ordinary magician felt extraordinary, as if she had ascended and reached into the heavens…

THE END