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Author's Note: The following is the first part of an eventuality for Five Buns Full! We are not there yet, but consider this as a sort of sneak peak for the playful antics to come ;) When we are properly here, these stories will be added as standard chapters!

Patrons' Pick nominated this NSFW Halloween story as well as another Monster Musume story that will be coming soon! Please stay tuned, and enjoy!

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Day 179

The sun was setting over the open field. Three bunnies were playing in the fading afternoon light. The one with the ribbons and the other with the cowlick had fallen onto their backs, their fluffy feet bobbing as they tiredly kicked in the air, while their little big sister calmly sat down, a beautiful rose worn in her bright pink hair.

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October 31st was deep into Autumn. Afternoon light colored the Hachinomori sky a brilliant orange. Soon, Halloween night would be upon them. A cold Halloween, with a nice Autumn breeze lofting through the air.

A couple of families lined the residential streets, walking along with their costumed children. There weren’t any restrictions on Halloween. People would be out until past ten on this Saturday night, trick-or-treating, partying, and living life to their fullest. A soft air of revelry had taken the city, heightened by the lovely chill.

It should have been nice.

It should have been refreshing.

Sweat dribbling down from her bangs, wheezing just to hold on to any breath, Nino Uesugi felt like she was about to die.

Nearly six months into her pregnancy, the redheaded woman waddled with the gait and appearance of a pregnant sow. Her pale skin colored pink and flush with exertion, each wobbling step sending a heaving quiver through her overweight body.

How in the hellwas it so flipping HOT?!

Nino wanted to groan to herself, wanted to beguile her situation and complain even if there was nobody to hear. But all that could come was the husky grunts as her body battled her brain to hold every breath it could take.

Her plodding feet ached, her heaving chest was sore, but worse than the heat, worse than the pain, was the quivering sensation that rumbled from her belly.

Nino was hungry. Despite spending most of the day at her Café absolutely gorging herself on three plates of gyoza and enough cake that she’d have to call Miku for a restock, Nino’s belly grumbled like a ravenous panther, drawing several gazes to Mama’s direction.

Quintuplets. Nino Uesugi was having quintuplets. She tried to remember that, tried to let that make her feel better about the burdensome weight that had taken her center. But frankly, she was having trouble finding the energy to even care anymore.

The streets of the residential district were as skinny as Nino was not, and twice already had two separate groups circled around her, walking much faster than her waddling pace. Nobody said anything, but she could feel their eyes even while hers were blinking through sweat.

It shouldn’t have been this bad. She wasn’t even wearing heels anymore! Only a pair of blue flats, matching the deep sapphire of her wide maternity dress. A blue now stained darker by multiple marks, evidence of the soft redhead’s overweight strain. Her arms, her chest, even her tummy was now dripping with sweat.

Stupid hot flash.

Stupid expensive scooter.

Stupid wolf.

She was glad that she’d left Chosokabe with Raiha at the café. Even though the puppy was small, she wasn’t sure if she could even manage the weight of even a Maltese riding inside of her bag.

Without really thinking, Nino crossed an arm over her belly to grapple with her white leather purse. Her fleshy arm and fleshier chest made it take longer than it should have for her to pull her phone free, then another several beats of trying and failing to fat-finger her lock screen. Eventually she managed the shape of a two, then tapped the phone app.

Her finger hovered over her husband’s name, but after a few seconds hesitation she scrolled down the recent calls list. She looked at Ichika’s, Itsuki’s, then Miku’s, considered calling Raiha or her father-in-law, then thought of calling her own father and begging for him to send a car to pick her up.

In the end, she clicked the phone off, shunting it back into the bag.

There was a crinkling sound that made Nino perk up. Stopping to look inside, she spotted a couple of chocolate bars that she’d packed some time ago. A lick of her lips, a rumble from her gut, Nino considered but turned up her nose.

It was only a bit farther.

She could make it.

She could wait.

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She couldn’t wait.

By the time she reached the flower shop beneath their apartment, Nino looked as if she were about to go into labor. Both of her arms were crossed over her tummy, her disheveled body streaked with sweet sweat.

Around her plump lips was the light markings of chocolate, both crinkled up wrappers held in her right hand. She had failed to temper her hunger, and the groveling whine from her belly announced that she’d failed to satiate it as well.

She’d mushed the bars in her mouth too quickly, trying and failing to take her mind off the weight that made her feel like she was about to fall over. How much had she gained? How big was she now?

Nino hated this feeling. The sweaty, sticky, out-of-breath feeling of being forced to carry all of this extra weight on her weak frame.

But not nearly as much as the fat girl loved it.

She reached her apartment, the panting as much from exertion as it was from her pleasure. She could practically feel the cuffs on her wrists, the collar tight around her fat neck. Her weight was like bondage, a portable prison that she constantly felt applied to her body. Her hunger, ever-present, ever-growing, and the more she ate, the heavier she was. The heavier she was, the more he had to work for it.

Nino loved to make him strain.

She wiped a hand through her bangs, then brushed one of her pigtails behind her exposed shoulder before getting her key from her purse. The door unlocked and a cold gust of wind blew down from the terrible visage that was exposed as their long flight of stairs.

Nino didn’t even care. She stepped fully over the threshold, closing the door on the heat outside and letting the wonderful chill cover her body.

Air conditioning. She hadn’t had air conditioning for years, had spent the first few months growing hotter and hotter with only the comfort of a failing fan. She groaned in joyful relief, hands coasting up from her belly and over her chest while leaning back against the door.

She rested for a time, enjoying the air and catching her breath. She was more than aware of the steam from her mouth, the hint of how cold the air really was, but she couldn’t care less. To Nino, the apartment felt like the perfect temperature of sixty degrees.

As she stood there, weighed down by the fat binds she had made for herself, Nino could feel the electric spark. Maybe thirty feet away. Ten steps up, eight paces to clear the living room, then a short stretch to their wonderful bed. That’s where he’d be.

Her Fuutarou.

Her wolf.

She could feel the stiffness in her chest, the weighty grumble from inside of her belly. It seemed to want to stop by the kitchen, find something sweet that she hadn’t already snatched. But another hunger was swelling, a more primordial desire. She wanted him, and she wanted him now.

One heavy step, two heavy steps, Nino gripped the handrail and pulled herself along. She could hear each stomp as if it were a gunshot, every pregnant footfall shaking the house like an earthquake.

She pictured herself as her sister, the size of Itsuki. A gluttonous pig, an overweight elephant. Nino felt the small hallway hugging her hips, listened to the dangerous groan of the stairwell beneath. Her tongue lapped out, her unfocused eyes glimmering with brilliant blue pleasure.

Nino Uesugi reached the doorway, a woman so fat that she could hardly squeeze through it. She didn’t try to kick off her shoes, barely thought to drop off her purse. She was sweaty, she was exhausted, but she was starving. A wolfish hunger rumbled from her belly, a fat little bunny who had doubled in size.

Steam was pouring from the redhead’s body, the panting want of a husky canine. It was more than her weight, more than her bonds, she could feel her husband beneath her. Her legs spread wide, her belly crushing his, felt him inside her as she rocked back and forth. He’d be waiting for her. The bed would be made, just like that night, covered in rose petals. A white box with a tiny red bow.

Their garden of love.

Horny, hungry, pink little hearts danced in Nino’s eyes as she wobbled into their bedroom. “F-Fuu-” she began but caught herself just before the steam kettle whined.

There weren’t any rose petals. There wasn’t a box with a bow, and there weren’t any sweets.

Several blankets were rolled tight over the sleeping form of her husband. She saw his black hair, the cute strands messily tangled around, but his face was buried inside of his pillow. He was snoring loud enough to be heard over their churning air conditioner, one arm showing outside of the blanket, wearing a gray shirt that Nino knew was her gift.

Nino held her breath for five seconds before letting it go and smiling gently to herself. She nodded, doing her best to waddle as quietly as her small body could, and approached the bed. “Hey, you…” she whispered quietly.

There was no break in the snoring. It was a sound that made flowers bloom, could melt even ice, because it was the sound of her husband.

Her hand coasted gently over the covers as she came up to his head. “My father’s been running you ragged, hasn’t he?” she asked, then sighing. “No, that’s not true. You’ve volunteered. I know that you have. Idiot.”

Nino reached his arm, lifting one of the blankets to cover up high. Then she pet the back of his head near the nape of his neck.

“Trying to earn enough so we can get our own house.” Nino leaned over and kissed his head. There wasn’t a growl nor even a mutter from the fat woman’s belly as she leaned down by at his side. “We can do this,” she whispered. “I know we can.”

She stood up, looked him over again and smiled even brighter. He was so cute when he slept. To Nino, Fuutarou was cute when he did anything.

“Stupid wolf,” she praised, and began to waddle away.

A moment passed before she remembered what she was even doing here. She’d left work early because of Ichika’s party. She had to shower, get changed into her costume, get her husband all set. But another glance had her decide they could be fashionably late.

She went to her vanity and immediately saw the flecks of chocolate that clung to her mouth. A soft snort quivered from a stifled laugh before the messy eater stuck out her tongue and winked at herself. Nino tossed the empty wrappers onto her table, adding to the swelling pile of eaten sweets.

Laying over Nino’s vanity chair was the costume she had earlier prepared. A black maternity dress with scarlet highlights, a pair of black stockings, some nice black flats with cutesy red bows, and the lovely and long scarlet cape topped with a little red hood. Her wicker basket, already stuffed with tiny sweet treats, waited on the cushion.

Nino was going to look so gosh darn cute as a pregnant Little Red with her strong, Bad Wolf. She wiggled from side to side, hands to her mouth to cover her smile, before looking back to the bed. Her grin widened and, finally, she allowed herself the slightest of excited cheers before waddling out from the room.

Mama could use a nice cold shower.

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Nino begun to shed her clothes as she went from the room. Her maternity dress hugged her hips and was tight on her waist, necessitating a grunt and a tug to get it up to her chin. Her heavy arms brushed past her ears as the sapphire dress came up, blocking her vision. Another hungry vibration and the dress came free.

She’d meant to go straight to the shower, but the pregnant redhead wasn’t all too surprised to find that she now stood in front of her fridge. She stuck out her tongue, blowing an exasperated raspberry at her unyielding hunger. “Alright, fine,” she grumbled to her gut. “What do you girls want tonight?”

Her porky fingers gripped the handle to the fridge but hesitated as her belly and brain reached the same wavelength. Instead she bent down, exposing her bottom and the rolls on her waist, to open the small ice box that was their freezer.

Only a couple square feet, every inch had been filled with a variety of foods and her sweet sugar treats. Mama cooed, plucking a pint of pink cherry blossom ice cream from the freezer, a fat and satisfied smirk indenting her cherubic cheek. She had to balance herself, putting her arms wide while her foot swung forward, shutting the freezer.

Wearing only her pigtails, Nino plodded across the hall to the bathroom. The bright lights flicked on, laying everything bare. She placed the container on the counter, a touch of excitement tempered only by gluttony. “Soon,” she breathed to herself, patting her belly. “Just a few more minutes.”

She turned to her reflection, saw the chocolate stains on her lips and again allowed herself a short piggish laugh. It was odd, but she felt some sort of pride in her chubby cheeks, a pride which swelled when she looked at her body.

Her hands began to wrap around herself, the constant sensation of weight that just wouldn’t properly settle. A pleasant sigh came as one of her bright teal nails circled the lip of her tummy.

She thought she’d feel worse than this. Maybe it was because she knew it was coming, had known this would happen the moment she passed a thirty-pound gain. She’d become an unstoppable train with an overweight appetite, a hunger which now sent a small shiver through her fat girl frame.

Nino undid her pigtails and just looked at herself, twisting from side to side, lifting her arms behind her neck. She played with her hair, was it really that long? It was growing so fast, while her bangs and her roots were fluffier and fuller than ever before. Nino was pregnant with quintuplets and everything grew to accommodate.

Her hair reached down past her shoulders now, too long for pigtails with how full it was. And more so than that, her breasts were now huge, fertile and ready while she still had months to go. Then there was her belly, which looked twice as big in her wide profile, rolling over her thickening legs.

She turned, admiring the width of her doughy fat hips. In her head, the fat girl pictured a supersized reflection standing next to her own. A girl with so much red hair that she would have looked like a bush were it not for the flabby white body it all curled around.

She pictured Itsuki as she had been at the hot spring, then Miku, and then her other sisters on either side. They were all so different, nearly two thousand pounds reached in-between, each of her sisters looked wonderful.

But they were so similar too. The same skin color, the same pink breasts, the quintuplets shared so much but behind Nino was a shadow with hungry blue eyes that were only for her. Her soft belly, her full breasts, her figure that had passed by full and seemed to never stop filling.

She’d get there someday. The blushing Itsuki with her overweight smile, Nino knew her body would reach the same swell, the same pale flab. Not because her sister was there, and not because Miku’s weight had risen as well.

Nino knew she’d reach it because she wouldn’t stop gaining. She probably couldn’t even if she wanted, so far removed from her tiny-girl diet. The entirety of her pregnancy, Nino had remained soft, the bondage of fat always outgrowing her maternity.

She remembered when she first became pregnant, then when she learned she really was having quints. She had pictured herself with a stomach so bloated, stretched to her limit just to carry her daughters. Instead, Nino’s big mouth had given her a much wider frame, still maintaining her navel with a fat overhang.

Even as the fire blazed in her belly, Nino felt a moment of electric shock as her hand skated over her breast. Her chest had probably changed the most, with the fat of her breasts stretching the soft pink areola to be wide. They were extremely sensitive to the touch, eliciting the first, non-belly sound Nino had made after entering the room.

“Hnnngaah,” came her quivering moan.

She could see her pupils dilating, her mouth intaking a breath that caused her nudity to shiver from top to bottom. She silently damned her pregnant hormones, more than aware that she’d retoggled a switch that she could do absolutely nothing about. Her nails pinched around her nipple, turning the moan into a peaking gasp. Goosebumps became visible on her chest, leading up to where the hair stood on the nape of her neck.

She nibbled her lip, the drunk feeling of amorous pride in herself overtaking her mood. She pictured herself in another year, or maybe even two, wearing soft girly dresses over her fat girly figure. A true butterball wrapped around the arm of her husband.

They needed a new house. With large, sliding doors.

And if she outgrew those, may God have mercy on her sweet little daughters. Because Mama would remember, and Mama would pay each of her darlings back.

They’d try out for softball. They’d try out for piano. They’d become the best, most enlightened little girls the Earth had ever seen, because they made sure Mama could hardly fit in the stands.

Nino was fat, but she liked being fat. And since she liked being fat, Nino was able to put a hand on her hip, flash herself a wide grin, and the confidence that blazed made her feel undeniably sexy.

She took a deep breath, thinking how to satisfy her urge. If Fuutarou was still sleeping, she couldn’t use their bedroom… The reflections vanished as she looked to the shower.

No, she’d have to hold on. She needed to bathe, to get ready for the party. Maybe afterwards. Maybe tonight. But, with a glance at her melting ice cream, that didn’t mean she couldn’t still have a little clean fun…

She moved to the side, opening her contact compartment and removing the solution as well as the case. She flicked each eye-holder open, dribbled in some wetness and then removed the aids from her eyes.

Without contacts, Nino was practically blind. Her reflection became a creamy white blob with a strawberry topping. Even her nose was mostly a blur, but she was able to navigate mostly from memory.

Nino moved from the counter into the shower, flicking the switch on and leaving it as a lovely, terrible cold that washed over her body.

God, she was hot. As the water trickled down her scalp she really felt the heat flash’s strength. Maybe it was the girls, maybe it was the weight gain, or maybe it was just Nino herself, but the cold water did a wonder for her hormonal needs.

She let the water wash herself over, making sure to scrub out all of the sweat and grime of the day, before Nino began to soap out her hair. Shampoo and conditioner, fluffy white suds in brightly colored bangs, they dripped from her body before being cast down the drain.

Finally, with a lick of her lips, Nino let the mounting excitement begin to reach its release. She opened the shower door and blindly grasped the at counter. Her hand found the chilly container, sweating with sweetness and her belly roared in anticipation as she pulled it inside.

Her back to the fountain, the lid came free in one swift tug. Chunky pink ice cream swirled on top, melted and waiting for Mama’s hunger. Nino’s tongue lapped over her lips before she reached her hand up and tilted her head back.

Water cascaded around her scalp as the ice cream sludge flooded over her lips. She felt herself respond to the taste, a lovely mix of powerful cherry complimented by delicious vanilla. She swallowed mouthful after mouthful, but was more than aware that she was missing almost as much as she drank.

Pink and white droplets flowed around her plump mouth, down her folded cheeks and soft chin before dribbling down onto her marshmallow body. They stained her, sheltered by fat from the spouts pouring rain, curving around her wide tummy. Sticky cold mess found her groin, rolled down her thighs, and the messy piglet quivered in elated satisfaction.

Born of a desperate attempt that had seemed dumb at the time, this had become Nino’s favorite way to eat ice cream. To feel her belly swell with the melted sugar while dribbles stained her face and rolled over her breasts, where the coldness gripped her in its icy grasp. It squeezed her, played with her, let her jiggle and slap as she drank more and more, tilting her back until she folded over the dial and she rotated it.

Ice became warmth and warmth became hot, the cream suddenly steaming as it washed over her shoulders and down her chest. It met the satisfied purring from the fat woman’s belly, even as she drank more and more. The water struck the pint directly, urging what remained to melt into slop and spill down Nino’s chin.

She wasn’t breathing, wasn’t thinking, wasn’t listening to a thing. She was too busy eating, her sticky mouth and tongue coasting over the paper. Too busy enjoying her treat and all the love in her belly and all the mess on her face.

Nino rocked backwards and forwards against the cold and the hot, her thighs squeezing in the middle as she felt them press her insides. The fat of her sex, the pressure of her grip, Nino pushed herself on, wanting more and more until an explosive sensation made her tilt back and tremble.

The pint fell to the floor as the vibration gripped through her, small and breathy moans of husky delight. Her hands pinched her now sharpened breasts, lifted and dropped her stretched and aching belly, fingers passing over her most precious spot. It didn’t end quickly, in fact by the time it had finished Nino nearly melted back against the wall, the water and ice mixing over her breasts and colliding near her sex.

Gasping, wheezing, Nino pushed herself off of the wall. She turned around, using her arms to guide herself to her body wash, to her fluffy loofa, and began to clean up the mess she’d made for herself. But, even now, her belly still rumbled.

Hungry for more.

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