[$20] KS Shorts #3: Winded Runner (Beta Copy) (Patreon)

She bounced, she wobbled, but worst of all, Emi Ibarazaki jiggled as she ran along the small jogging path.

Emi could feel the weight pulling her down, her overworked thighs and overfed core begging for reprieve, but still she continued. Constantly jiggling...

‘Don’t think about it!’

Her prosthetic running blades clacked rhythmically on the hard surface of the path, obscuring gasps that escaped from her middle, hiding the wheezes that billowed out from her lungs.

Once, Emi Ibarazaki had been fast. She had been light on her false feet, running along the track at a quickened pace. Like a lithe, half-mechanical gazelle. Graceful, long strides, full of energy.

‘Don’t think about that, either!’

Why couldn’t she focus?! She still had muscles in her legs, she could feel them beneath all of the fat that that blind blonde jerk had served onto her body!

‘Ahhhhh!!! Why are you thinking about her?!’

Dribbles of sweat poured over her round cheeks, spilling down her ill-fitting workout gear, a dark hoodie that clung to her belly and sides and pink shorts that covered frighteningly less than they should. But she had to wear them, even if she felt like they were cutting into her middle!

If she put this off again, she might never get off of her fat ass and lose this damn weight!

It was January, there was still frost on the ground, and Emi Ibarazaki felt as hot and as round as the sun less than a mile into her first morning run.

She tried to focus on the road ahead. The small city streets were empty at this early hour, with the dew still clinging to their tiny plots of grass and the hanging gardens. Once she conquered this first mile, the road would take her to her town’s cozy park, where she’d be able to loop three times around the lake before jogging on home.

It was a five-mile run. It should have been easy.

It was anything but.

It shouldn’t be like this. Emi was twenty-four, supposedly in the prime of her life! She even finally had her hair how she liked it, in a pair of long twintails that reached down to her waist! It was so cute, and it would look so much better if they didn’t perfectly frame how she’d turned into a fat little goblin!!!

She had been a track champion! Now, she looked almost as fat as Lilly did!

How did this happen?!

Emi’s belly warbled uncomfortably, wanting for the breakfast she’d intentionally skipped. The hungry girl missed her morning pastry with a fat bowl of sugary cereal and full glass of milk.

Her fingers, acting out of desperation, fumbled with the zipper to the girl’s hoodie. They pulled it partway down, exposing the sweat-stained pink tee that clutched to her small breasts, before the crest of her belly fought the ill-planned movement and Emi stumbled mid-stride. The girl cried out something that sounded like a plead, for either death or for doughnuts, and kept running onwards.

She had to lose this weight!

Had it really only been a year ago? That damn Scottish woman and her damn husband! She was only going to spend a week with them, but when her new prosthesis came in, they didn’t fit! ‘Oh, my Doc must have made an error,’ Emi had thought… while jamming a third serving of dinner into her spoiled mouth.

A full month spent sitting on an ass that kept growing, Emi was supposed to be petite! Small! For crying out loud, she had been ninety pounds! She was one-twenty when she left that damn apartment, and now?! NOW?!

Do you know what two-hundred pounds looks like on a girl that’s only 4’11”?!?

There wasn’t a retailer in Japan who carried an XXL outfit for a girl her size!!!

She knew, she’d checked!

How the hell was she supposed to teach gym like this, stuck in her wheelchair because her new fat-girl prosthesis made her legs feel sore?!

‘STOP THINKING ABOUT YOUR WEIGHT! STOP THINKING ABOUT YOUR WEIGHT!! STOP THINKING ABOUT YOUR WEIGHT!!!’

Emi wheezed for air, her neck hanging back as she forced herself forward. She wanted to cry out, to whine just as loud as her belly was wanting, but she didn’t have the air for even that.

Wheeze, puff, gasp, wheeze, puff, gasp.

*Clack!* *Clack!* *Clack!* *Clack!*

Emi’s chubby arms pumped and fatty legs wobbled. The sweat was worse now, giving her a skin a wet sheen in the January sunrise, but Emi didn’t notice. Her emerald eyes shimmered, with sweat or with tears, as her besieged body sent fatty green sparks through her mind, where they mixed in with the smile of a blind blue abyss.

“Will you be joining us this weekend? I’ll be serving shrimp scampi, and I’ve made sure to stock up on some wine for you~”

‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!’

“Won’t you have another glass? I’ll fetch the next bottle.”

“Hmmm. I must admit, the pregnancy seems to have pushed me past my previous plateau. I’m two-ninety-five now… but that’s our little secret~”

‘NO! NO! STOP! STOP THINKING ABOUT-’

“Oho? You’re awfully glib for someone that, from my understanding, has her own little issues concerning the numbers on her scale. Or do you only eat so much just to flatter me?”

“I don’t suppose, then, you’d mind letting me touch you…?”

‘AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!’

“My, my! Your arms are so big!”

“Would you mind if I felt your abs?”

“Your legs must be so strong…”

‘NO! STOP HER! STOP HER BEFORE SHE-’

‘You’re so soft…’

Emi felt herself moan, just like she had then, as the quivering sensation mounted her body. It gripped her by her belly, jiggled her by her love handles, massaged her trembling thunder thighs. Emi, burning so hot that her pale pudge was colored delightfully pink and her body emitting steam like an overweight train engine, pushed onwards.

She had to keep moving! She had to lose this weight! She had to stop her-

“I like you soft. You feel like you were meant to be like this.”

It was like someone were holding her, cradling her belly, lifting and jiggling and playing with her fatness. She could hear the giggling, her delighted laughter, the tiny piggish snort of extreme amusement, felt her hair cascading around her the rolls of her backfat.

The final memory crept into her mind, though the speaker was different. The memory, this feeling, it wasn’t from Lilly. It was the girl. The one holding Emi, the one pinching and squeezing and fondling her fatty body to such delightful excess.

“Do you really think so?” she'd asked, but Lilly had already opened her eyes. She felt it all fall into place, just like it had that night.

The real feeling of her weight, the true enjoyment of her fatness, rushed back into her. All at once, Emi was the heavy cupcake princess that Lilly had helped her discover she was.

You don’t accidentally gain over a hundred pounds in just over a year. You don’t just happen to have multiple servings of each delicious meal. You don’t just shrug off the consequences and keep gaining weight as your wardrobe steadily hides away in storage or pops apart... unless you want it.

Unless you loved it.

Generous hips, a wide belly, and perky fat breasts. Emi could stand in the mirror and play with herself, sighing rapturously as she felt her soft love handles and relished the way her belly pressed into her thighs.

At some point, Emi had stopped running.

Another tremble shook up her spine, another gasp of mismanaged air. She latched onto the next breath, then inhaled more, puffing herself with as much as she could before letting it out in a spluttering cough. She doubled over, snagging a short barrier wall on the side of the lane, and tried anxiously to fill her lungs as her knees knocked and her thighs flattened.

“God… *hoogh,* what is…” she paused to huff out another long breath. “What is wrong with me?”

Emi was fat.

She was a brunette.

She was 4’11”.

She had green eyes, fair skin, was born on March the 14th.

And she was fat.

There were three people in all of the world that knew something else. Three people, out of everyone Emi had ever met, knew her favorite color was blue.

Her mom, her dad, and that overweight blonde who’d spoiled Emi sweet.

Emi collapsed onto the dividing wall. Still puffing, still sweating, now aching, but smiling. She shook her head, her twintailed hair tickling the sides of her belly that now spilled down from her hoodie.

Lilly knew. She must know, she’d invited Emi over every weekend for over a year. Lilly and Hisao would usually cook, but they’d been teaching Emi, to the horror of her kitchen and the despair of her wardrobe. The two girls had had become fast friends, then they became fat friends, and Emi would have hated her if she didn’t enjoy it so much herself.

A year ago, Emi had been skinny. But she’d been miserable, mean, and had all but sworn off any real friendships. She’d connected with one person in high school, and that girl sometimes forgot to charge her phone for a full month at a time.

Emi grunted, leaning back and letting her hand crest around her belly. She was beginning to feel the chill now, where her exposed skin smothered the stone of the dividing wall and the cold wash of air coasted over her wet belly. She didn’t care.

The short, fat, cupcake sat on the wall, and stared across the street at the park.

“One mile,” she muttered to herself. “You’ve gone from a marathon runner, to one stinking mile.”

Lilly would probably laugh when she told her.

She’d better.

God, what the hell was she going to do?

Short girls weren’t supposed to be fat. They’re supposed to be thin, cutesy, pleasant and fun.

But then, Emi’s favorite color was supposed to be pink.

For some reason, that made the smile on her chubby face pull a little bit wider.

She wondered what Rin was up to. She’d been roommates with her before all this began, but had moved out after that month with the Nakais made her realize what she really wanted.

Although, there wasn’t much luck on that front, either…

Maybe she should open up a dating profile. ‘Hi! I’m Emi! I teach gym from my wheelchair, have an impressive list of favorite foods, and would probably have sex with the first guy who touches me after eight years of nothing!!!’

She might be able to get a good profile pic, as long as she took it from a top-down angle…

‘What would you even wear on a first date?’ Emi asked herself.

She puffed, a short laugh quivering her doughy body. “Anything to distract him from my fat frickin’ ass…”

“E-excuse me, Miss?” came a tap on her naked shoulder.

Electricity slammed into Emi’s spine, shooting her to her feet so quickly that her knees slammed into the dividing wall and toppled her backwards, into the yard and striking the person who had come up behind her. With a bright, porky scream, Emi fell into a flowerbed, crushing several white flowers beneath her rotund back and wider butt, with the teeth of her zipper screeching free to unleash the tide of her tummy.

Upside down, flat on her ass, Emi’s emerald eyes were the size of saucers as they blinked up from a bed of flowers into the startled face of a young man wearing a white v-neck tee beneath an open gray flannel. A cloud of warm breath puffed out of his mouth as he blinked at her with his striking blue eyes.

He had fallen behind her, his legs prostrate around Emi’s head and her shoulders, though he was quick to move. Much quicker than Emi.

“A-are you okay?” he started, coming up onto his knees. “You’re not hurt, are you? You looked like you were having trouble…” and Emi felt his eyes go up, up, up, over the curve of her stomach, catching on the expansive pillows of her fat, sweaty hips, “… breathing.”

The boy… the man, rubbed at his chest, where Emi had surely struck him with the back of her head.

Eyes fluttering, feeling as breathless and fat as she ever had in her life, all Emi could manage was a timid, “Ehh… eheh… eheh… whoops…”