Yaniko’s eyes cracked open in the stale, greasy air of her apartment. Five hundred pounds of pure, soft catgirl excess pinned her to the mattress. Her belly was a massive, sagging apron that spilled in heavy, jiggling rolls across her lap and draped over the sides of the bed, the lower curve resting on the sheets like warm dough. Her thighs were colossal, dimpled pillars of fat that squished together and overflowed the edge of the mattress, each one thicker than a normal person’s waist. Her ass cheeks, each a wobbling beach-ball of pale flesh, had spread so wide they swallowed the sheets beneath her. Most of her clothes had surrendered weeks ago; she lay in nothing but a stretched out, grease stained top and pair of panties that had long since disappeared between her enormous cheeks and vanished under the heavy overhang of her gut, leaving the underside of her huge, pendulous breasts and soft, belly exposed. A pair of black-tipped cat ears twitched lazily on her head, and her tail curled limply across one thick thigh.
She reached for the bong without sitting up—movement was too much effort now. Wake and bake was what Yakuko called it and it was her routine now. She packed it, flicked the lighter, and pulled a long, deep hit. The smoke burned sweet and heavy in her lungs. While it was still swirling inside her, she grabbed the open bag of donuts beside the bed and began stuffing them into her mouth one after another, grease and sugar smearing her lips and dripping onto the upper slope of her belly. The combination was pure bliss. The high hit harder when she ate at the same time—flavors exploded, her body felt even heavier and more sensitive, and the munchies doubled back on themselves until she was moaning around mouthfuls of pastry. Her free hand slid under the massive, warm fold of her belly, fingers sinking into the soft, sweaty fat until they found her cunt, already slick and puffy. She rubbed slow, lazy circles over her clit while she smoked and chewed, hips twitching just enough to make her entire body ripple.
Every movement sent waves through her. Her belly quivered like jelly, her heavy tits swayed and slapped softly against the rolls of her gut, her ass cheeks wobbled and clapped together with the smallest shift. She was a prisoner of her own gluttony now—too fat to leave the apartment easily, too lazy to try. Delivery bags piled up by the door. The sheets beneath her were stained with old grease, spilled soda, and dried cum from days of this exact routine: wake, smoke, eat, masturbate until she couldn’t think straight, then pass out and do it again.
The door creaked open.
Her landlord, Mr. Otani, stepped inside carrying a paper bag. He’d been worried—no one had seen the reclusive tenant in weeks. He called her name once, then froze.
Yaniko was sprawled exactly as she’d been: five hundred pounds of half-naked catgirl gluttony, bong in one hand still trailing smoke, the other hand buried deep between her fat thighs, fingers working wetly while she shoved another donut into her mouth. Her massive belly rose and fell with heavy breaths, smoke curling from her parted lips, cat ears flicking, tail twitching against the bed. The wet sounds of her fingers filled the room.
Otani’s face went red. His cock surged instantly, a thick, obvious bulge straining against his jeans. He tried to cover it with the grocery bag, stammered something incoherent, then turned and bolted, leaving the door wide open in his panic.
Yaniko kept rubbing herself, staring at the empty doorway. Then she noticed what he’d left behind: the paper bag, now on the floor, filled with fresh snacks—chips, cookies, a couple of takeout containers, even a small cake. Her stomach growled loudly at the sight.
She felt a small, guilty twinge. She hadn’t paid rent in months. She’d been a terrible, fattening, freeloading catgirl. He’d brought her food out of concern and she’d just given him the shock of his life. She didn’t want to seem ungrateful.
Her fingers moved faster between her legs as the thought formed. Maybe she could pay him back. The image flashed behind her eyes—her on her knees (or at least resting comfortably atop the elevation of her belly), soft lips wrapped around his cock while she looked up at him with those big cat eyes, or him sinking into the deep, plush valley of her ass while she kept eating. The fantasy made her cunt clench hard around her fingers. Another orgasm rolled through her, making every roll of fat on her body shake and jiggle violently.
She reached out with her free hand, grabbed the bag of new snacks, and tore it open. While she was still coming down from the high of her climax, she lit another hit from the bong, smoke filling the room as she stuffed a handful of cookies into her mouth.
Her massive body settled deeper into the mattress, heavier, lazier, and already planning how she’d thank her landlord properly. She’d make sure he knew exactly how grateful this five-hundred-pound catgirl could be.