This choice: Two hundred fifty pounds. Morinth may be getting out of control… • Go Back... Shepard clicked her tongue when she saw how Morinth’s thick double belly wobbled as she waddled by. “She got obese fast.” The redhead said simply to the bloated Asari’s mother.
“I have noticed, Shepard.” Samara replied with a note of disdain. Morinth becoming obscenely fat was what they intended, but neither of them expected her to take her new lot in life with such stride, let alone derive pleasure from it. The way her first born traipsed about with her over fed curves hanging out of her whorishly exposing clothing made Samara feel a sense of secondhand shame and disgust for Morinth, and the desire to force her to cover herself. Something she didn’t think she could feel for her. Almost like…
“You think she’s fat enough that she can’t meld anymore?” Shepard asked before Samara could complete her thought.
“No,” She replied, shaking her head. “The lowest known weight of an Asari to lose her ability to meld was only a few dozen pounds short of six hundred pounds. However, it is usually several hundred more, and with Morinth’s unusual condition and exemplary powers, she will likely be able to maintain the ability for much, much longer… though, at the rate of which she is gaining, maybe not.” Even in the highly unlikely event that Morinth did lose her ability to meld at a much lower weight than she anticipated, Samara wouldn’t be satisfied until her psychopathic daughter was reduced to a quivering blob of fat that had significant trouble standing. And breathing. It was far better than she deserved.
Shepard uncrossed her arms and stopped leaning against a wall to stand up straight. “Right. What I got from that was: no, I can’t tap that yet without dying. So, I’mma go masturbate.” She said bluntly and without shame. The Commander often spoke her mind without censor, even when inappropriate, and usually delivered casually. Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked off toward her quarters. “Who knew fat bitches gave me such raging lady boners…” Samara could hear Jane comment to herself as she left, though she wished she hadn’t.
Everyone involved in the concoction of the plan thought that her increasing weight would repel potential victims, but it only seemed to make her more alluring. Perhaps it was simply a part of the nature of an Ardat-Yakshi. No matter what, maybe they somehow maintained their attractiveness in the eyes of others. Either that, or the majority of the Normandy crew were obesophiles, which was unlikely to say the least.
Once again, Samara’s train of thought,l was derailed, this time by the sound of a button popping and Morinth moaning sensually. Yet another pair of pants had be outgrown by the bulging bodacious blue beauty, her bulbous blue belly bumps burdening bottoms to bursting. She then bit down her bottom lip, and took each of her rolls in her hands and squeezed hard. “So—mmm—voluptuous…” She moaned. The only time Morinth stopped eating was when she slept, used the bathroom, was feeling herself up, or a combination of the three. And sometimes not even then.
With her tray cleared, though, Mornith heaved herself up from her seat in the mess hall to go get even more artery clogging goodies. It almost made Samara want to be sick. She managed to hold her lunch down long enough to leave the presence of her abomination of a daughter, and felt the urge subside. If she ever allowed herself to fall into such a state, the Justiciar would have put a bullet in her head before anyone could see her. Still, there was a part of her that was glad that there was an alternative to having to kill her daughter. Even if it was a small, insignificant, almost nonexistent part of her.
Morinth was the one she was most proud of. Her strong willed first born, who she still saw her beloved bondmate in. She couldn’t help but think killing her would kill a part of her, too. It pained her too much to think of it for too long, so she went the her quarters to meditate.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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