Work Text:
Whales' Game at Wraith's
"Ladies!" Wraith spreads her wooden set of arms in greeting while her real hands shuffle the deck. "So glad you could all make it to this special high-stakes game."
The women filing into the gambler's private lounge are some of the most cutthroat, ruthless, affluent women in all of New York: Calico, Paradox, Lady Geist... also, she invited Vyper for some reason.
She blows out a low whistle between her fangs. "Some place! That joint a' yours I shot up wasn't HALF as fancy! Guess that's why ya forgave me so easily, right? Right?"
"Wraith, I understood this was a game for high rollers." Calico glares dispassionately at Vyper from behind her glasses, the cat on her shoulders mimicking its owner.
Lady Geist, scarcely tolerating the company of all this 'new money' as it is, finds the convict's inclusion especially bothersome. "Yes— if you meant to dispose of her tonight, I'd have preferred you did that separately."
"Relaaax, Geist— we here at Wraith's are a lot more inclusive than you'd expect. We'd never refuse the patronage of anyone willing to take out a few grand on a marker." She smirks, eyeing Vyper from under the brim of her hat. "Besides, she's here to show me a good time so I won't hold that 'little incident' against her forever, like I normally would."
"Yeah see we're cool, so shut the hell up, Lady." Vyper flicks a forked tongue in her direction while moving to sit down next to Wraith. The crimelord gestures to a seat one chair away, the outlaw silently obeys
Paradox promptly takes the seat instead. "Yeah, quit being so uptight. Tonight's about having fun."
Sitting opposite Wraith (scooted as far away from Vyper as allowed,) Lady Geist folds her hands atop the table. "No, like with most things, tonight is about wealth."
"I can't speak for everyone else here, but I find the two often go together." Calico takes the remaining seat to the left of Wraith, shooting her a playful look before Ava hops down onto her lap to receive pets. "What's the game?"
"Texas Hold 'em. With a little twist..." She preforms a few tricks while shuffling the deck, gesturing with her second set of hands all the while. "Bought a charm for this table, a little something to give the bets more... weight. Let's just say, we're wagering dollars and reputations."
Vyper snorts. "Hey, sounds like a pretty good deal for me! I mean 'to me.'"
Geist raises an eyebrow, but doesn't bother interrogating her. It'll all become clear as they play.
"Each of you traded in your 5 grand for chips? Good. Big blind is $50, small blind is $25- we won't bother with anything below that. Let's get started."
Naturally, Wraith deals first. Calico puts in $25, then Geist $50. Vyper raises to $100, Paradox calls the bet, and so on and so forth.
Calico folds after the flop, too discerning to gamble on an average hand.
Geist presumptuously raises her bet $400. "Best to skip the formalities, wouldn't you agree?"
Vyper laughs. "Yea, now we're talkin'! Call!" She pushes her chips forward then sneers over at Calico. "Too bad Cali's missin' out on this action. What's the matter, scared of bunglin' somethin' else up?"
As the pot increases yet again with Paradox's turn, Calico stares stone-faced at the gorgon.
Predictably, Wraith calls the bet as well, and as the third round goes forward the pot remains at a healthy $1,575. Paradox folds this round, content to take the early loss and bide her time. Vyper, Wraith, and Lady Geist continue on, though don't raise the bet any higher.
Geist holds out hope, but is disappointed by the river. Like Paradox, she doesn't sweat folding in the first game, laying her cards down flat.
Vyper narrows her eyes, two dark slits poring over Wraith's expression for any small tell. Then she clicks her tongue and shakes her head. "Ah it's the first friggin' hand I ain't got shit- you'll KNOW when I got shit. Ah, fold by the way."
Wraith smiles as she leans forward, pulling the chips from the center with her additional arms. "Thaank you! Nice warm-up, ladies."
Then, the room becomes quiet with anticipation. No glowing runes, no particles dancing in the air, no rays of light engulfing the other players, just... quiet.
Then, the three women who lost their chips to Wraith begin growing.
For Paradox, decked in various belts and garters, the pinching sensation is immediately noticeable, and only worsens with every passing second. She looks down and startles to her feet, thighs jiggling as they agitate for freedom. Though she has declined to remove her helmet for this social call, her utter shock is clear in her body language. "What the FUCK?!"
With no lesser terror, Lady Geist feels her sultry, curve-hugging gown grow vice-like. The vain woman looks down, horrified at the sight of her breasts bulging over her cups like floodwater against a dam. She gasps and throws stole over the indecent sight, wincing at the thickness of her own arms.
Vyper, distracted by the show, isn't aware of what's happening to her until it's over. With a much less constricting outfit, her new gut has plenty of space to spread out and sag down over her widening frame. When she finally looks down, she ogles her formerly flat chest sagging braless under her top, lifting them in her hands. "Oh my god I'm looking stacked..."
"WRAITH, what is- ugh!" Paradox curses under her breath as she undoes her belt, allowing her potbelly to surge forward and force her shirt buttons apart. While always pear shaped, the thief now has a large hanging paunch to go with her thick hips and newly chafing thighs. "Alright, what the fuck is this?!"
"Oh my, Wraith, you weren't kidding when you said this would be fun." Calico's lips curl up in a sadistic smirk as she sits there, seemingly unchanged.
"You." Lady Geist hisses, eyes darting between the two slim women while her buxom body strains her undersized clothes. "You knew this would happen?"
"I believe we were all given the same information." She wiggles her head in a pompous little motion. "If you're implying I set you up, I assure you, I folded because I was dealt a poor hand. That's all."
Wraith raises her second set of hands placatingly with particular attention for Paradox. "Easy now, you two! Sit down, I'll explain the rules— but hey, you're smart, you probably get the idea."
Paradox stares in her direction, presumably frowning. Vyper interjects. "Uh yea, we lost money and we got fat— pretty uh, self-explanatory. And Cali got off Scott free 'cuz she folded, like a bitch."
"Very good Vyper!" Wraith talks to her like she's a child, a wolfish smile on her face. "But you're wrong, actually. Calico's gained 2 and a half pounds." She points a finger to Lady Geist, and then two more to the other women. "45 pounds, 50 a piece."
"Our bets." Paradox processes, still stood there holding her belt. "A pound per $10..."
"What utter nonsense..." Lady Geist grumbles, meekly pulling her fur back to inspect the damages. She can't remember the last time her body bulged in such an unseemly manner, but in truth, it would've been flattering... if her dress were properly tailored. As it is, her tits are bulging lewdly over the top, her budding belly is sitting in her lap perfectly outlined by the fabric, and her black tights feel like a second skin. The aristocrat can't help but spare a thought for her face, manicured fingers running along a softer jawline; she physically shudders when she feels a so-called 'double chin.' "For your sake, this had better be reversible."
"Ha!" Wraith gathers the cards and starts shuffling them again. "Of course it's reversible! Ever hear of 'diet and exercise?'" The indignant look on Geist's softened face only sets her off laughing again.
"I can't do this." The displeasure in Paradox's voice is palpable- she's just noticed her coat's sleeves are too tight to allow full range of motion for her arms. Her mind races with the many complications this will make for her work. "Thanks for the invite, Wraith, but I'm cashing out."
The gambler's mood shifts. "Aw, c'mon, Perry! You look great!" She fails to persuade her with this nickname or the strangely earnest sounding compliment, but she goes on. "Look, as much as I'd love to be able to tell people I ran Paradox away from my poker table, I'd prefer that it be because I took you to the cleaner's, ya feel me?"
The thought of walking away occurs to Lady Geist as well, but some stubborn part of her refuses. Showing her face in a third-rate establishment like this is a risk on its own, walking away from the game with nothing to show for it but a pair of love handles? Unacceptable. But is it really worth it to put her flawless physique at further risk?
Then she realizes. "Are we to assume that this 'house rule' applies to you as well?" She asks, head tilting toward the hostess.
Wraith presses one of her real hands to her chest. "Geist, I'm flattered you think I'm so low-down as to rig a game like this just to humiliate you... but sweetheart, if there's no risk? You're not playing poker." She smirks, thumbing her suspenders arrogantly. "Nobody sitting at this table is exempt from the charm; so, if any of you wanna see what I'd look like with a couple extra pounds? Best bring your A-game."
Lady Geist reciprocates with a predatory grin of her own. "Oh, I intend to." There's no backing out for her now. Not until Wraith is bigger than she is.
Giving it some thought herself, Paradox sighs. "Alright, you got me." She sits back down, thighs spreading to fill her seat. "Should be an interesting experience... especially if it blows up in your face."
"Atta girl." Wraith passes the cards and the dealer chip to Calico.
Vyper groans. "Finally. Let's get goin' ya big drama queens, I got money to make!"
While passing out hole cards, Calico hums. "Yes, I suppose you wouldn't be particularly worried over your appearance."
"Hell no. 'sides, I think we rock the 50 lbs, ain't that right 'Perry?'"
"Don't call me that."
"Just a friend thing?" She glances to Wraith, then back to Paradox. "Don't worry, I'll grow on ya. HAH!"
She pounds the table. No one reacts.
"It— it's a JOKE, heh. Heh... ahh, you're no fun."
With Calico dealing, Geist and Vyper place the blinds. Paradox and Wraith call.
After the flop, each player sizes up their hand and what they could pull. Geist feels good enough to raise $200, staking 22 pounds on this hand, a bet which Vyper calls.
The action falls to Paradox, who looks at the others bewildered. "You got amnesia or something? Why raise now?"
"I thought your Organization were risk takers." Geist says.
"I'm not gonna be built for risks much longer if I gain seventy fuckin' pounds tonight."
"You're always free to fold~" Wraith teases.
"Like a bitch~" Adds Vyper.
Paradox grumbles something about crazy bitches while simply passing it along to Wraith, who is more than happy to call the $200 bet, as is Calico.
After the turn, Geist declines to raise her bet, but stays in the hand. Vyper raises by another $300. Paradox groans and checks again, remaining at $50. Wraith calls Vyper's bet, while Calico decides to fold, content to stomach the 20-some pounds she'll be gaining.
The last card is revealed and Geist accepts the grim reality that she won't be winning. She cusses under her breath, wincing as though she can hear the seams splitting already. Vyper checks, as do Paradox and Wraith, until it's time for the showdown.
Paradox and Vyper each have pairs, but Wraith lucks out with a straight and takes the game.
"Shit, I was SURE you were bluffing!" Vyper tosses her cards down angrily. Paradox quietly slumps in her seat, sighing against her mask.
"Oh, I was bluffing for the first hand." Snarks Wraith as she once again retrieves the full pot, $1,625 in chips. Less her own contributions of $550, that's 107 lbs about to be gained around the table.
Expecting it this time, Geist puts on a brave face— which falls to a pallid portrait of shock immediately after the side of her dress splits open. She can scarcely twist herself around to inspect the damage before her breasts stage a full jailbreak, bouncing indulgently around the insufficient cups of her disintegrating outfit. The designer piece has fought a noble battle, but the leap over 200 lbs was just too much for it to bear; bulging curves of pale pampered fat stick out everywhere, from the popped lacing in the back to her see-through tights below the table. Geist's face is redder than she'd let anyone see outside of a bedroom.
The socialite catches Vyper in the act this time and raises the green claw housing Oathkeeper (who, it now occurs to Geist is probably loving this show.) "Ogle me another moment and I will juice you like an orange."
Vyper raises her now flabby arms, once fit for throwing knives, now better suited for throwing back spirits. "Easy, lady, ever hear of window shoppin'? Nah, I guess you'd just buy the whole window, huh..?"
The gorgon's questionable decision making has netted her the largest total gain of any woman here, 105 lbs, and considering she's the shortest, it's not had a lot of places to go but 'out.' Up and down her serpentine length, she's gotten thicker all over. The huge gut and wide hips on her humanoid portion are especially noticeable, forcing her ratty tank-top to ride up over where her bellybutton would be. Even her sleek cobra head looks bloated and doughy, excess fat sagging from her long neck and forming a crease above her less-than impressive tits. The con has now fully doubled in size, though she seems to be taking it pretty well.
"Y'know, I know a few guys down at Benny's who'd be into this shit. Should totally go there to blow all my money after this."
For her conservatism, Paradox only gains 5 lbs, a drop in the bucket that nonetheless makes her finally take off her jacket, lest she suffer the same sort of wardrobe malfunction as Geist. Calico, on the other hand, finally fills out some.
Her cummerbund is forced upwards ever so slightly by a budding new gut, but aside from that, the 25 lbs isn't quite noticeable. Her loose trousers are a major help in disguising the extra inches on her hips and her high collar frames an elegant if slightly softer face.
"Oh dear, my perfect figure. Woe is me." Calico dryly mocks her fellow players, raising a hand to her forehead. "What ever will I do with myself? Maybe take a few months holiday somewhere, maybe Japan?" She rubs a hand over her softer stomach, secure in her position.
While Geist fumes and comes to grips with the situation, Paradox glares boredly at her. "Let's see how you're talking in another 50 lbs."
"Oh I don't think that will be necessary. I have a winning strategy."
"Yeah, guess you won't gain much betting like a lil' bitch." Vyper gives her a lopsided grin, leaning her heft over the table to proverbially get in her face.
Again, Calico doesn't give her the satisfaction of any emotion. "The night is still young, Vyper."
Sitting back and admiring her handiwork, Wraith looks over at Lady Geist. "Tsk, fussing with it isn't gonna make it any larger, hon. C'mon, it's just us girls here-- who doesn't love a bit of strip poker?"
As much as she wants to bite her stuck up new money head off, hat and all, Geist realizes it's futile. "You'll need to ask your cronies for a coat twice that wide by the end of the night." She eases back into her chair, tugging the dress up her wobbling tits to provide what little dignity it still can, exposing more of her hip and thigh in the process.
While Wraith savors the view, Vyper pipes up. "Say, while we're talking about askin' Wraith's cronies for things, can we get some grub in here?? I don't mean to be a stereotype or nothin' but uh, I'm kinda hungry." She grabs her gut and hefts it up and down for emphasis, disgusting and entrancing various women at the table.
"Just try not to get it on the cards." Wraith snaps her fingers and a conspicuously prepared cart of refreshments is wheeled in.
Paradox looks at the cart as Vyper shoves a hotdog down her throat and then turns to Wraith. "Is... does the charm make people hungrier as well?"
She raises an eyebrow. "If I say 'yes,' will you just eat and not feel guilty about it?"
While Paradox navigates her emotions, Geist curses how good that low-class garbage smells to her right now. Calico happily waves a server over, enjoying the refreshments without a second thought. Something about Wraith's face convinces Paradox to get herself something small, sliding her mask up to take quick bites, showing a hint of how round her face is getting.
Geist is roused from her internal battle by Calico passing the button to her; it's her turn to deal.
Vyper places the $25 blind, Paradox places the $50, and it goes on from there.
As the first to act after the flop, Vyper follows her usual strategy of raising the bet, by $500 this time.
Paradox hesitates, but decides to raise by a smaller amount, $200.
"Perry..." Wraith shakes her head in admonishment.
"I'm just covering my bases here..."
The mobster's eyes trail downward and she mutters quietly while pushing her chips forward. "Covering that big ass you mean."
Paradox stammers out a sort of indignant squeak that receives an almost unanimous chuckle from around the table. By the time it's Geist's action, the pot is already nearly $2,000.
Vyper's raise was rather aggressive this round, but to be frank, not a woman at that table believes she really has anything. She gives the assassin to her right a side-eye. She put on a front of not caring earlier, but Geist doubts she'd take a risk that wasn't calculated.
Geist checks, receiving boos from Vyper. "C'mon munch ladies, munch, gulp this is a HIGH-STAKES game! Fork it up! Who wants to meet me at 1k???" With the first three cards revealed, she pushes her chips to the center, arm flab hanging down and belly brushing against the table's edge.
Paradox scoffs. "Shut the hell up, Vyper. Check."
"Puuuussyyyyy." Vyper says before unhinging her jaw to shove in a whole sandwich.
Wraith perks up. "Now we're talkin'. Call." She pushes her chips forward. The pot is now $2,925.
All eyes are on Calico as she silently pushes her own chips in. "Call."
Vyper laughs excitedly. "You sittin' on something, Cali? Y'know, aside from what I've been told is a really sweet can."
The assassin shrugs. "We'll have to wait and see, won't we?"
"Oh I knew I'd like you." Wraith whispers, leaning in toward the table as the stakes rise.
Geist throws her cards face-down immediately. "Fold."
Vyper grins and leans over to Geist, causing the chair beneath her to creak from the shift in weight. "Aw, smack c'mon, Geist, you afraid of lil' ol' me??"
Geist's nose wrinkles up as Vyper's interesting aroma wafts over her. "There's nothing little about you anymore, nor anything to be afraid of." She reveals the 4th card for the hand.
The gorgon scoffs. "Fine, who needs your stinkin' money, I'm still copping 3 grand." She turns to look at the other women, confident smile on her flabby face, and leans forward again to push more chips to the center. "Raise, a thousand."
"Horseshit." Paradox observes.
"If it's horseshit, how about you pony up some more dough?? Eh??"
"No bloody way. Check."
Wraith laughs out loud. "God, you can be a delight in incredibly small doses, Vyper." Her eyes flit around the table. Calico is unmoving and expressionless, a statue. She clucks her tongue. "Buuut I'm gonna side with Perry on this one. Pot's as big as I need it to be. Check."
Before Vyper can call Wraith a bitch and apologize profusely for it, Calico pushes her chips forward again. "Call."
"Ooh hoo hoo hoo, you 'n me, huh Cali? Told you we weren't so different!" Vyper locks eyes with her, unable to get a read from behind those round sunglasses. Geist reveals the final card, Vyper looks at it and puts on an even wider grin, looking ready to swallow someone whole. "How's another thousand sound? Aw, what the heck, I'll throw in the whole kit 'n caboodle. What'd that be, like, 19-somethin'?"
"1,925, that'd be your whole line of credit." Wraith gleefully explains. "Plus what you've already bet, that makes $3,950... must be a pretty good hand, huh?"
"Told ya you'd know." Vyper returns her smile, oblivious to what Wraith knows and she doesn't.
Paradox is silently shaking her head. She folds and grabs a handful of fries to pick at.
"Check." That's all Wraith says before turning to look at Calico. Geist joins her in anticipation, rightly suspecting what's about to occur.
"Tell you what, Vyper." Calico begins, speaking slowly and calmly. "I'll meet you with an even $2,000." She pushes her chips forward, never breaking eye contact with Vyper.
"Gonna be a real pain... getting a new wardrobe, I mean, after I run your pockets like this." She reclines confidently, casually shoveling more hotdogs into her mouth to mask any last minute jitters.
After Geist calls the showdown, the three women reveal their cards.
Wraith has two-pair. Calico has three-of-a-kind.
Vyper, in fact, does not have shit.
"Aw fuck."
All eyes are on the biggest loser of the night. After a few anticipation-soaked moments, she begins to rapidly balloon, burgeoning blubber building up so quickly as to wobble from the motion. The spectacle is made even more jiggly when the chair's legs snap like twigs beneath the widening carriage of the convict, sending her flopping onto the floor.
Far from a swift, serpentine predator, Vyper now most resembles an overgrown slug from the waist down; or at least from the lowest-most belly roll down. This enormous cauldron of a gut is on full display as she lays splayed on her back, two large yet still undersized breasts sagging to either side as the aftershocks send it wobbling lazily. She releases a wheeze at the added weight pressing down on her lungs all of a sudden, hacking and coughing up some hotdog bun as she struggles to shift all of this weight; 600 lbs to be precise.
"Hgghh!! C'mon...! Hff slow 'n hff steadyyy...!" Her considerably deeper voice sounds strained, her neck buried under so much fat that rolls have developed. The other women rise from their chairs just to gawk at the scene playing out before them, a woman reduced to a pile of lard.
Then, a loud snap gets their attention, along with a shriek of surprise. Paradox's thighs have become too thunderous to be contained any longer, destroying the constrictive garters outright. With her coat removed, the width of her hips is even easier to see; Wraith gets an especially good view of her ass widening until it forms a tear down the back of her tights. The thief bends down to reach for her coat and secure some cover, only to launch a broadside of buttons across the table, her lily white belly drooping out through the opening created.
On the subject of Wraith, she's not just a spectator for once. A woman of her word, the charm begins to work its magic and convert her lost $1,000 into 100 lbs.
Her bust absorbs a lot weight early on, leading her to undo her suspenders before she winds up like Paradox; her false arms droop down in the back along with them. She hefts her growing bust in her hands as they surge forward, overflowing her brassiere. Using her second set of arms, she reaches back to casually unclasp it through her shirt, allowing her puppies the adequate room to grow. "Ooh... damn, I make this look good..." She purrs, biting her lip as she looks past her breasts to see her hips and belly flowing outward. The gap in her thighs disappears as her long graceful limbs fill out with fertile curves, her rear end grows into a seat-burying cushion and her hips widen twice over.
Of course, with such a substantial gain, some things are inevitable. The sides of her pants split open, her shirt clings to her wider arms, the collar almost chokes her as her neck thickens, even the bracelets are a no-go, bursting off her flabby wrists. Altogether, though, Wraith just smiles. She looks Calico's way and reaches up to tip her hat. "Well played."
Calico, whose eyes have been glued to Wraith's growing body, nods in response. "Expect nothing less."
A labored huff comes from below the table. "Yeah hff uhh, good game, Cali- haah friggin'... crap, almost there.. hrrghh!" Vyper manages to roll onto her belly with a cacophony of flab slapping together. Finally able to slither, everyone gets a good look at the overstuffed sausage inching away from the table, wheezing and groaning with the strain of pushing herself into an upright position with the bloated sacks that are now her arms. "Whew!! I... am seriously outta shape... ah well." She reaches for a couple hotdogs and shoves them both into her mouth. "Mi' ash well smack e'joy myshelf."
All the other women are shocked by her size, even though this was practically a forgone conclusion once the stipulation was revealed. It's Vyper, after all.
However, none find the display more interesting than Lady Geist. She should be satisfied already, Wraith is a good deal fatter than her now, her own physique being spared this past hand. But now, with a transformation like Vyper's accounted for, Geist concludes she won't be satisfied until the pompous mobster is just as cartoonishly immense. It's not enough to walk away solvent from this game, she needs to squeeze Wraith dry and leave her a pile of humanity.
While these machinations course through her mind, a flustered Paradox gropes herself to check the damages, wincing at the horizontal spread she's acquired. "Ugh, what windows am I meant to fit through now??"
Sizing her up, Wraith smirks. "Think I got one in my bedroom that'd work."
After a pause, a presumably blushing Paradox sits back down, letting her coat drop a little to give Wraith a peek at her potbelly. "I consider that a verbal contract, y'know... you've got a lot to make up for later."
"Lookin' forward to it." Wraith replies, carefully easing her added weight onto her seat, thighs hanging off both sides.
Calico raises a hand to her lips, laughing at the exchange and putting out every possible sign she'd love to stick around for that.
Geist scoffs. "If you three are done reveling in your shared obesity, let's continue." She reaches a supple arm to pass the dealer chip to Vyper before remembering her situation-- more so being reminded as the gorgon unhinges her jaw at the food cart, rubbing her ponderous gut. "Ah- Paradox, I believe the button goes to you."
A muffled cry, something like 'hey wait!', escapes the bloated cheeks of Vyper, who grunts as she slowly slithers back up to the table, further pulverizing the splintered remains of her chair in the process. With a hearty gulp that visibly bulges through her neck fat, she reaches her pudgy mitts out for the chip. "I can deal!! I'm game if you are- double or nothin' on that marker, Wraith!"
Almost amused, the gambler shakes her head. "Sorry, honey, but I don't think this floor's rated for double or nothing. Plus, I have no idea how you're gonna pay me back 5 grand as it is. Don't push your luck."
Vyper waves a hand, flapping her bingo wing in the process. "Ahhh fine, be that way. I'll just help myself to the grub." Like a locomotive, the blob huffs and puffs as she slithers off from the table. "Y'know I hff should be chargin' you to, hahh, stare like this..." She grumbles, feeling the eyes trailing down her back rolls to her approximation of an ass bouncing behind her.
"Best of luck at the freak show." Geist snarks as Paradox begins to deal.
Things progress as normal through the preflop, no one raises, perhaps a little shaken by Vyper's botched bluff. Once Paradox lays down the first three cards however, a smile cuts across Wraith's chubby face.
"Raise, 1,000."
Paradox scoffs. "Some bluff."
She leans over to the other woman with a goading look. "Wanna bet?"
"I would." Calico chimes in, pushing her chips forward. At her size, and with the ludicrous pot she amassed last round, she can certainly afford to call that bet.
Geist probably shouldn't, but she does anyway. A combination of Wraith's loss and Vyper's expansion has lit a fire in her. Even Paradox, flighty as she may be, gets swept up in the heat this round. By the 4th card, the pot is $4,175, each woman staking at least 100 lbs on the hand.
Wraith raises again, 600 this time. Calico is glad to call that bet, but Geist is beginning to worry about her hand. She checks, but Paradox surprises the table by matching the amount.
"Now who's bluffing?" Wraith asks as Paradox sits as perfectly still as she can, trying to leverage her mask as a poker face.
"Wait and find out, love."
With the fifth card revealed, Wraith raises once again. "If you're feeling so good, how's another 600 sound?"
Paradox looks on silently while Calico folds, offering no comment. Geist narrows her eyes. Her hand is strong, what're the odds both of them have better ones? She glances at Vyper for a second, imagining an immobile Wraith drowning her sorrows in chili cheese. She pushes her chips forward. "Call."
"Call." Paradox echoes, not looking away from Wraith as she pushes her chips forward, shirt audibly creaking.
Another showdown. The women reveal their hands.
Paradox has a flush. Holding her straight, Geist cusses in French, then cusses again when she sees what Wraith has.
"A bloody Full House?!" Paradox exclaims, composure completely cracked.
Wraith leans over the table, her tits hanging down to brush against it while she collects her winnings. "Sorry, baby, you'll have to take the door. Probably turn sideways too."
Paradox puts her head in her hands, not reacting to her growth until her chair starts making concerning noises. One chair was already bordering on insufficient for the exceptionally wide woman, but with the addition of over 200 lbs on her frame, she's now in the neighborhood of needing three to support herself.
As she heaves her growing body to its feet, the zippers on her tall boots explode. There's really no other way to describe it than that, the fat rolls on her thighs and calves annihilate the sleek accessories; they take the rest of Paradox's tights with them, leaving her completely nude from the waist down. Lord knows if there was any underwear there to begin with, it'd take some spelunking to dig them out of her crack.
Her belly is no slouch, the pale orb spilling down to her knees looks like a moon unto itself, a nice compliment to the tire-sized cheeks she's packing in the rear. She's enormous, winded from having to stand up, and hardly covered by the remains of her shirt and bra. Not even her damn ascot fits anymore, her meaty double chin spilling out the bottom of her mask. It's a surprise that hasn't exploded, though it certainly can't be comfortable by the way it's fogging up with her furious panting.
Geist's hands fall defeated to her sides. She grapples with an important decision: sit down to try and preserve her modesty as much as possible, or stand up to avoid the humiliation of shattering a chair under her ass? Ultimately, the latter wins out. She grunts as she rises to her feet, tits bouncing eagerly like they can sense their impending freedom.
Preemptively crossing her arms over her chest, she turns her head to avoid seeing the shit eating grin Wraith is giving her. "Take a picture, why don't you?" She spits just before the growing starts.
Working together, her blossoming lovehandles finally carve the insufficient gown up its side, sending it billowing to the floor. She feels like a cabaret dancer, exhibiting her topless body as it rises like creamy white dough. Her belly flops over the waistband of her rapidly disintegrating tights, bouncing up and down, reaching lower each time. She tries to take off her heels inconspicuously, but one of them snaps before she can manage, sending the wide woman stumbling to one side, breasts and belly swinging and bouncing in time with the rest of her.
She doesn't want to imagine her face, but she can feel her second chin sagging further, along with the sensation of her necklace digging in to her the flab covering her throat. She shudders, thanking her still intact poise for preventing her from falling on the floor like that 600 pound wastrel— the one who was probably getting off on this, she reminds herself with revulsion. When she focuses back at the table, a lot of the women there seem to be enjoying themselves. Whether schadenfreude or base titillation, she can't be sure.
Finally, Calico breaks the 200 mark and then some. Her cummerbund attempts to retreat further up north, but her waist balloons all over, quickly snapping the purple sash. She elects to stand like the others, making for quite the spectacle as she goes from a tastefully curvaceous figure to a stout ball of a woman.
Her baggy pants become painted on, outlining her growing saddlebags and bubble butt, but the real best in show is her gut. Early on, Calico makes the tactical decision to untuck the thing, saving her pants from fighting the battle of the bulge on two fronts. Like a blob devouring a city street, her gut sags further and further down her pillar-like thighs, a perfectly round pillow for someone— or a few people— to rest their head on.
Her blazer fares quite poorly, even as she undoes the buttons on the sleeve to loosen it up. The trouble's all in her girth, her waistline, as her bust doesn't see much development. Her high collar is popped open by her neck and chins, even the added meat of her shoulders makes the situation more complicated. She looks like a football star trying to fit into his old prom tux 20 years on. Her pants are holding on for dear life, failing to cover much of her ass and fit to burst at any moment, but she's still decent, if ridiculous looking in her too-small clothes.
She hums as she looks down at herself, a finger on her first chin. "I always suspected I'd be more pear-shaped..." She prods at her sagging apron of a gut, bare for everyone else to see. "Oh well. Wraith, would you be a dear and tell the help I need some sushi? And a second chair while you're at it."
"It'd be my pleasure." Wraith says all too genuinely before looking to Geist. "And a couple for you. Maybe some french fries?"
"Hilarious." Geist grumbles.
"How about you, Perry?" She grins over at the woman struggling with her mask, pulling it halfway up her face to catch her breath. Leaning to one side, she tries to eyeball how wide she is. "What're you thinking, three? Four?"
"Haah I'm THINKING I'm outta here!" Paradox wheezes, leaning against her chair while she gasps for breath.
Wraith frowns, rising to her feet and stepping over. "Perryyyy come onnn, you look great!" She gestures to her, eyes tracing the crease where her belly meets her thigh.
The massive woman limply bats her away. "It's not about looks, Wraith—" Her unfiltered voice sounds less ragged now that she's gotten some fresh air. "What the HELL do you think I can steal like this???? Cheeseburgers???????"
A loud belch rings out from the other side of the room. Vyper has accumulated a lot of stains all over her round face and chin rolls. "Eh, sorry, little late for that."
Wraith reaches out with her real hand, showing the surreal disparity between her dexterous digits and Paradox's flabby mitt. "You can always steal my heart..."
After a pause, Paradox groans loudly. "THAT'S IT! YOU'RE IN THE DOG HOUSE!"
Wraith bursts out laughing as Paradox maneuvers her ponderous self away, cellulite-dimpled checks tossing left and right as she clumsily waddles who-knows-where. "Perryyyy, c'mooon it was a joke!! Stay awhile— at least let me get you some clothes!!"
Geist is thankful for the momentary distraction of Wraith's goons bringing out the extra chairs, she has no further interest in this soap opera; not like Calico and Vyper, who both side eye the whole thing.
Another underling brings Calico her platter of sushi along with her new chair. "Ah, thank you." She eases her bulk into the seat, eyeing the way her stomach bounces in the seconds afterwards. She starts to wolf the fish down as fast as she can move the chopsticks, utilizing her still-slim prosthetic hand rather than the sausage fingers of her real one.
Though resenting the implications made by the underlings bringing her three chairs, Geist is nonetheless relieved she won't be ending up on the floor. She doesn't even want to entertain the thought of ending up like Vyper, but perhaps she'd be playing better if she gave further consideration to such risks. She is not relieved to see a tray of french fries set before her.
She does sneak a few while Wraith is distracted though.
Eventually, thundering footfalls signal that Paradox has been convinced to stay. She mutters something to Wraith that the others can barely hear. "Only because this damn thing has made me so hungry..." The mobster beams and gives her a peck on the cheek, reminding Paradox she needs to slide her mask back down; she's not quick enough to hide the flush on her round face.
Cracking her knuckles, Wraith returns to her seat at the table (the only single seat) and smiles at the other two women. "Alright, ladies... should I assume you're both still in?"
Geist scoffs. "I assure you, I have no intentions of leaving until you're like her." She jabs a finger in the massive Vyper's direction.
Wraith chuckles, rubbing her hands together. "If anyone's gonna get Vyper'd here, it's you, Geist. But I'd love to see you try."
"Hey uh-" Vyper smacks her lips as she speaks with her mouth full. "Ca' we not name, uh, geddin' fa' ash fuck after me?" She finally swallows. "I got a lotta other qualities than just, spontaneously gaining 500 pounds."
Calico pounces on this statement. "Oh but darling, it's the first thing you're actually good at!" She and Wraith both laugh while Geist remains focused.
"Okay, one, untrue, two, uncalled for." She turns to Paradox, who's joined her in sitting next to the food cart. "Can you believe these skinny bitches, Perry?"
"Shut up, fatass." Paradox grumbles while dipping her fries.
Vyper clucks her tongue, tilting her head to one side, face fat squishing against neck rolls. "I hate to tell you this, but I think yours is bigger than mine..."
"SHUT UP!!"
With the three women agreeing to continue, Wraith shuffles the deck and begins to deal. Calico idly shovels food into her face, her round cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk's as they get their hole cards.
Geist isn't crazy about her hand, even less so after the flop. When Calico raises her bet by $1,000, she realizes her best move is to let these two destroy each other, then go in for the kill in the next hand. "Fold." She lays her cards face down, squeezing her tits together with her wide flabby arms.
Pulling herself out of the hypnotic cavern of those two head-sized melons, Wraith scoffs. "Aw, can't handle the heat under all that blubber? Fine. Then let's make this interesting, Cali..." She pushes forward $2,000 in chips. "I'll double your bet."
"200 lbs? That's bold." Calico observes with a smile as Wraith reveals the 4th card. She pops another bit of fish into her mouth before pushing her own $2,000 bet in, on top of the $1,000 from earlier. "Why don't we meet at an even 300? If you're so sure."
Wraith grins devilishly, leaning forward on the table. "I'd be delighted to." She pushes forward another $1k, making the pot $6,125; not that these two were thinking of dollar signs that the moment.
While Paradox shakes her head, muttering about crazy bitches again, Geist tries to use this hand to simply observe Wraith, to understand her, and then formulate a plan to destroy her in the next hand. Of course, Calico could manage that herself, but why stop at a measly 500 pound Wraith? Or a 300 pound Calico for that matter?
As they check one another and Wraith places down the 5th card, she smiles and speaks lowly. "Y'know, that gut of yours is gonna kiss your feet when you lose this showdown."
Calico smiles in reply before swallowing her mouthful. "And I hope you're aware that you're going to shatter that chair with that prime cut of meaty ass when you lose."
"Boy, won't that be fun for you? Hell, I think we'd all enjoy seeing that, wouldn't we, girls?" She looks around from Geist to Paradox, drawing Lash-esque heat from her audience. "Too bad then..."
The two reveal their cards. Calico's jaw drops when she sees Wraith has a four-of-a-kind.
"God damn that's a good hand." She mutters, looking up at the gambler with a surprising amount of fondness for what she's just lost. "Well played."
Her blazer tears up the back the moment she starts getting wider, while in the front her upper belly forces her shirt buttons apart, then fires them off. For the most part, Calico allows her expanding bulk to strip her bare rather than waste the effort on damage control, although she does quickly slip the glove off of her left hand as a roll begins to form on her wrist.
Another loud ripping noise coincides with her pants reaching their limit, splitting open up her legs to reveal cascading walls of thigh meat. Her face gets rounder, her cheeks puff up so much they start pushing up against her lenses, but the star is the sagging round gut that's bubbled over the whole of her lap now. Try as she might to spread her thighs apart, it begins digging into the edge of the table. Her cool brown blubber washes over her chips like a tsunami, all the while the southern contingent dives under the table to smother her knees.
Calico tries to adjust her posture to better accommodate the enormous apron of lard, but as soon as she pulls it back from the table, the chairs beneath her creak. They suddenly give way completely, unsuited to support her now 600 pound frame all on their own. To the shock and amazement of all witnesses, Calico's gut is such a large mass that it actually seems to lag behind the rest of her when she collapses, clinging to its own center of gravity for a second before reuniting with its owner with a loud meaty fwap.
The world's most dangerous woman wobbles on the ground, wheezing for air after the unexpected weight of her enormity crashes down on her. Her cat, roused from whatever idle mousing and laying about she'd been up to during the game, seems drawn to its master's distress and rushes over to helpfully leap on top of her.
Calico's belly rocks like a water bed beneath the creature's paws, which begin to knead on their own as Ava puts two and two together: this thing is soft and smells like her owner. The perfect place for a nap, she concludes.
Rather than squirm or struggle to her feet, Calico seems about as composed as a 600 pound, half-naked woman can be. It seems, like any cat owner, she's resigned herself to this fate.
Across the room, the other blob barks a laugh. "Heyyy, looks like I was right after all! You and me ARE the same, Cali!" She slaps the side of her gut, sending a lazy, wobbling vibration through her whole massive body.
"Vyper," Calico begins, her smooth aristocratic tone gaining extra gravitas with the extra 300 lbs. "You always know exactly how to ruin a beautiful moment." She turns her head, neck rolls squishing against her shoulder as she looks Wraith in the eye. She suppresses a shudder at the look of deep, sincere satisfaction she's giving her. "I believe this is where I'll cash out."
"Pussyyy." Quoth Vyper holding three hotdogs between her stubby fingers like a set of knives.
"I'm walking- if we can call it that- away with a tidy profit of $2,000. While you eat yourself into even deeper debt, I'll be relaxing on a long overdue vacation for the next several months..." Calico explains calmly, idly feeling herself up, straining to reach new rolls with her overstuffed arms. "Reaping the rewards of this unique experience."
"Mm-- smack y'know actually, I was givin' that 'freak show' thing a second thought, how much you think one o' those fat ladies makes in a year? It's gotta be good money, right?"
Paradox, who's been silently eating this whole time, scoffs and shakes her head. "They work in a circus, what the hell makes you think they make good money?"
Vyper shrugs, jostling her tits around. "I 'unno, they're clearly not missin' any meals!"
The thief groans and shoves more in her mouth to try and forget her own issues with employment, not to mention the 3 grand she's down.
Lady Geist has almost completely ignored Calico's transformation, too busy compiling all that she's learned thus far to devise a strategy for Wraith's ultimate downfall.
What drives a woman to set herself up for these big falls? Why include herself in this charm's effects, or put so much on the line every hand? Perhaps it should've been self-explanatory. She's a gambler. It's not simply a job or a past-time for her, it's an obsession. Even right now, Geist notes the way she's looking at Calico, thinking about each and every pound now burying the lithe assassin, how it so easily could've been her. She looks like she's basking in the afterglow, relishing the high while it lasts.
Wraith will always take the risky play. All Geist needs is a good hand.
The gambler turns her attention back to the table and passes the deck to Geist. "You've got the button, assuming you're interested in playing, shark-to-shark."
"You know where I stand." Geist replies curtly before shuffling the deck.
"Lady, you are not built for standin' with gams like that." Vyper quips, which Geist ignores. Her whole world has closed in on this table, on this hand she's dealing. She won't think about her thighs, thick and pale as marble columns, a couple times wider than her waist used to be; she won't think about her ass spreading out to comfortably fill three seats, nor will she think about the way her arms jiggle about while she passes out the cards. None of it matters. All that matters is taking Wraith down.
Wraith chips in the small blind, then Geist the $50. After the flop, it's her turn again already, the rest of their players tapped out or cashed out, merely rotund spectators at this point. "Mind if I raise?" Wraith pushes $1,000 in chips to the center of the table. 100 lbs already in the pot.
Geist hesitates, maintaining a blank expression on her doughy face. The first three cards are good for her, but she won't show that yet. "Feel free. 500 for me." She makes a show of slowly pushing her chips, various curves and folds hanging off her overfilled hourglass.
"Such a tease." Wraith remarks, smirking while eyeing her mark— and she does get an eyeful. "I thought an older woman would be more classy." Geist reveals the next card and Wraith leans over the table, her own impressive bust squished between her thick arms. "C'mon~, it takes two to tango. I might be willing to really put my ass on the line... check."
The action passes to Geist with no additional bet from Wraith. Her eyes flit down over her opponent's figure; the fact that she carries it so well only makes her want to Vyper her even more. She sees the hungry look in Wraith's eyes and knows it's time.
"You know, Wraith... why don't we make this the last round of the night?" She leans forward, the curve of her belly kissing the table's edge as she pushes every last chip she has, all $2,025, into the pot. "All in."
The other three women react with shock, Vyper hooting and hollering encouragement while Paradox stares at Geist like she's grown a second, even fatter head. "That's— you'll be 600 lbs like these idiots if you lose!"
Geist has done the math, but she doesn't dignify Paradox's commentary with any response. She can see Wraith practically licking her lips.
Paradox notices as well. "Wraith. No."
She eyes her chips, all of her winnings from the whole night. It amounts to something like $15,000.
"At least— just match her bet, don't— you don't get how this is a stupid fucking gamble for you to make?? Wraith????"
Calico laughs, disturbing Ava somewhat with the jostling of her gut. "Oh, she's doing it. She knows how to have fun."
Wraith does, in fact, do it. Every single chip, staking $15,000 to Geist's $2,500.
Paradox puts her head in her heads, whispering. "Why do I always go for the crazies...?"
"All in." Wraith says with a slight fidget of her hands. Neither breaks eye contact, even for all the distracting expanses of flesh on display. It's time for the biggest showdown of the night, a pot of $17,625.
The two women reveal their hands... for Wraith, a flush, and for Geist, a full house.
Wraith's eyes go wide, she jolts forward in her seat to make sure she's seeing it right, plush cleavage bouncing. "I— I lost???"
Geist sits back in her seat, prim and proper as though she weren't three times the women who sauntered in here. She folds her hands over her belly with a satisfied smirk. "Appears so. Too bad."
"NO fuckin' way, lemme—! Ghhhghoo nevermind." Vyper's enthusiam fades with the realization she'd have to haul herself over there. Paradox leans up in her seat, mouth agape in horror, while Calico shifts her heft around to make sure she has a good angle for what's about to take place.
Calico, currently the heaviest woman in the room, is outrageously fat at 622 lbs. She's a small hill of a woman, she hasn't even attempted to rise to her feet yet and would face incredible difficulty just waddling across the room if she did. She's too fat to live a normal life, let alone work as a contract killer wanted by several governments.
Wraith is about to weigh almost three of her.
It happens in several large bursts, as though the charm is having trouble handling the sheer quantity of mass. In the first surge, her clothes are completely destroyed as her new body emancipates itself; this goes for her shirt, pants, even her socks and shoes explode from the strain of containing such lard-filled appendages. Her hat is the only thing with any chance of fitting her, and she's nowhere near done growing.
Wraith can't even process what's happening before her chair is crushed beneath the rising tide of ass fat, dropping the gambler to the floor where her nude form wobbles for everyone to see. Like Geist, she's rather blessed when it comes to fat distribution, with a huge pair of heaving tits and an enormous bouncy ass, but both are already large to the point of parody and slightly hampered by the buildup of flab everywhere else on her body.
She squirms, her figure jiggling from her hips upward as she tries to spread her thighs apart; the gap keeps being filled over and over again as she grows until there's nothing short of a dislocation that could separate the two. As a consequence, her belly pools forward, making a nice support shelf for her boobs and a nice bulldozer for the table. It's at the point her expansion starts pushing the table away from her that Geist and Calico conclude they may want to back away.
For Calico, it's a simple matter of using Ava to get around, disappearing and taking on the form of her spectral pet to easily prance away. The near 400 pound Lady Geist has no scruples about barking orders at Wraith's underlings to help her to her feet. "I'd like to cash my winnings as a person, not a pancake! Hurry up!" The two goons of considerable mass grunt with exertion as they help the socialite to her feet, her whole body wobbling as if sympathetic toward her urgency. She finds the adrenaline to force her two clumsy limbs to propel herself forward, but the sight of her pale ass waddling away with all the grace of a newborn fawn is enough to make Vyper spray crumbs and cheese all over the place.
Wraith continues growing, eclipsing her largest guests in size and venturing into uncharted territory with her latest surge. The sensation of her body spreading further and further, beyond even the reach of her arms, is surreal.
Speaking of arms, her extra set's lost somewhere between her budding back rolls and her increasingly car-sized ass, along with her pinstripe jacket. Her real arms are practically useless, giant wings of blubber that she already lacks the strength to lift, and they're still not done growing. She's so glad she's telekinetic.
"Don't say I didn't TELL YOU SO!!!" Paradox cries as she waddles anomalously fast out of the room, using time manipulation for what she's sure she could convince the rest of Paradox was a life or death situation.
Vyper keeps eating, content to lean on the cart and watch the fireworks. "Man, Mendoza'd get a real kick outta this. Wish I had my blackmail camera on me." She shovels down some fries as she watches the table's legs slowly skid across the floor, pushed by Wraith's growing body like some kind of oversized curling iron.
By this point, Wraith is panting; she's not sure if she's having a reasonable panic attack or if it's just her lungs struggling to keep up with the extra weight they're buried under. She reaches, struggling to flex her arm under all the blubber, for her tit and watches as her pudgy fingers sink deeper and deeper with no resistance. They're still growing around her hand. Her hips are still spreading, she can tell she's already wider than the set of doors that lead in here; her belly keeps inching forward, rocking like an ocean unto itself as it swallows the whole space that once contained all five of these women. She feels her cheeks sagging into jowls and suspects her double chin might've rolled into a third, but there's no way she could ever lift her hand to her jaw to know for sure. She'll have to ask for a mirror when this is done.
Vyper finally gets worried once Wraith's enormity is within spitting distance of her. "Oh my god, you are STILL going huh? Forget my fat lady idea, you're giving me unrealistic body standards. I'm just gonna..." She grunts as she starts working the muscles buried far under her blubber that help her slither around, though only manages to wiggle a few inches before gasping for breath. "Ohh hff fuuck—listen I know I said haah I wanted to work under you— ghrrg c'monn but this is NOT what I had in—" A chill courses up Vyper's spine as she feels something soft and warm flop over the tip of her tail. "Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck!" She cries breathlessly as she drops to her belly, using her arms to pull herself forward and squirm away.
With little else to do but wait things out, Wraith ponders on the capability she now has to crush someone to death. A good businesswoman always sees the silver lining in these kinds of situations, even when her eyes are forced into a squint by the swell of her cheeks. If she can lift Bebop, surely she can lift herself... unless she's heavier than Bebop now, which... unsettles her to consider.
Vyper scrambles out into the hall, gasping for air like she was drowning and flopping onto her face in front of the other three women. Calico is sitting upright against a wall, legs spread far apart to let her boulder of a gut have its space, while Geist and Paradox lean against it, legs too weak to support their new frames for very long. Paradox has her helmet pulled up over her mouth and nose to catch her breath while Geist feels sweat dripping down every roll and fold and hates it. Nevertheless, both wanted to see Wraith reap what she's sown, and while one is disappointed, neither is particularly surprised
The growing stops, though it takes them awhile to register this since all of Wraith is still moving for almost a minute afterward. Like a pond with a stone dropped into it, the aggressive expansion has left a ripple effect through the gambler's 1,700 pound body.
Wraith is obese beyond any recognition. Her comely hourglass figure is just a pile now, a series of hills and valleys that one can imagine as breasts or hips or lovehandles. As Geist slowly and laboriously drags her fat ass forward for a closer look, she sees the hat still on Wraith's fat head and marvels at the fact that, yes, her head is fat. The cunning wolf who invited them in her is gone, now she sees two beady eyes and a handsome nose boxed in on all sides by sacks of fat, cheeks and chins. She traces down her tiered mound of chins to see her ponderous breasts, as large as full grown men, pulled down in different directions by their immense weight; then comes her belly, complete with three tiers of its own and a myriad of rolls joining it to her hips, which just barely pop out on either side of her to suggest that, yes, the view from behind is just as spectacular as this one.
Glancing back up, she meets Wraith's eyes. It's not easy to read emotion under all of the pounds, but Lady Geist has lived and loved long enough to identify the look as 'desperation,' and not all of it is just about poker.
"Hfff... haah... ddouble or nothiing...?"
Lady Geist smirks. "Sorry, but I think I'll cash out." She turns, swaying her hips out of habit and shaking a lot more around for Wraith to kiss goodbye. "Tata~"