Stahl couldn’t be happier at the journey he was making now. He was finally coming back home after one of Chrom’s endless incursions to keep the frontiers free of bandits – this one was particularly tough, having rallied a few too many under his banner. It had taken far too long to come back home, and he missed his wife.
Miriel. Oh, beautiful, smart, lovely Miriel. A woman with a wit sharper than any sword, intrinsically beautiful even – or maybe due to – her minimal care in terms of how she looked, and the one that, yes, loved Stahl – perhaps a feeling that she had never truly felt before. He was proud to be that one man which Miriel truly had feelings for.
However, when Stahl arrived, he was not expecting what he saw. He left his home with a slender wife that was fully clothed and focused in an experiment, her face shut and deeply concentrated.
He arrived to see a behemoth of a woman, pushing the limits of what was possible before she was bound to a cane or walker, dressed purely in white undergarments – and with her panties filled with her own waste, which was sometimes leaking into a particularly big receptacle - with plenty of food around and in her, still deeply concentrated into another experiment, but with a smile on her face.
And it wasn’t her usual “breakthrough” smiles. It wasn’t like she was on the verge of a discovery. It was a genuine smile of happiness and comfort. It wasn’t how much of a blob she had become, it wasn’t how she had allowed herself to become a total slob, it wasn’t that in spite of all that she still had kept her intellectual prowess.
No, it was that she was happy.
“Miriel!”
“Hello, Stahl. I see you’ve not died in the war, that’s very positive.” Most would consider that incredibly cold, but Stahl was used to his wife. Well, sort of.
“Miriel, what have you done?”
“Well, I’ve continued the formulations of my universal theory of falls and-”
“No, no that!” He walked up and pinched a few too many inches of her hip fat. She clearly had been taking little care of herself, even less than what she normally did. In fact, the only thing that he could probably say that she had taken a tiny bit of care about herself was the fact that she saved, and that was a tad half-assed on her ass. “I’m talking about this!”
“Oh. Stahl, you must understand, when you left, you packed all of your “men’s sketches” except for one. It had some quite interesting… tales, may I say. As a return gift, I decided to be more like one of those women in your private magazines, if you may.”
“But Miriel, don’t you feel like-” He was cut short by a kiss.
“Stahl, take a look at me. It does not hinder my research or my scientific progress at all, and I have seen that you are interested in this sort of woman. It’s purely my way of showing my affection and fidelity to our marriage.”
He took a deep breath and took a few minutes to just see her body. By Naga, she was sexy.
Beads of sweat glistened off her skin, which was covered with all sorts of food and gunk, especially in her belly rolls. Her body was very clearly a pear, with her hips, ass and thighs protuberating out and overflowing with fat – to say she had a muffintop was definitely one hell of an understatement, it was more in the way of having an entire bakery. Her legs were two thick logs of pure fat, with rolls of their own, and her ass was gigantic – it probably needed more than two chairs to sit on. Her belly was huge as well, protruding out to the point of her being able to put a notebook in there and write on it – which she did, naturally. Her breasts were two large jugs of fat and milk, nearly too big not to leak, sagging just so slightly that they clearly were huge and taking a toll on her back but not enough to become useless jiggly sacks. Her face, once sharp and defiant, was fat and softer, but still with the same shining lights in her eyes of the deep desire of knowledge and exploration.
And, of course, she was a disgusting slob. Shit leaked out of her panties and into the bucket behind her – pasty, liquid-esque and moldy in its composition. Her farts were rancid and her burps awful. The room had nearly been turned into a sauna purely out of her gasses, and her glasses were deeply blurred due to her visible flatulence. Her visibly sweet piss drippled across her gigantic thighs. The smell of her body odor was similar to that of a dead animal, in a way. Her hair had grown long and greasy, falling far beyond her shoulders. Her bowels seemed like they were loose, and at her weight health issues were bound to appear.
“Stahl, you’ve been quiet for too long. This worries me.”
“Oh, sorry. Does none of that bother you?”
“No, not at all. Dare I say, I quite enjoy it.”
Stahl was taken aback by that statement. And after the initial moment of confusion, he realized the proper course of action. He quickly took out his clothes, hugged her deeply and kissed her with all his strength.
She was surprised.
“I love you.”
“Huh. I’ve never heard you say that as joyful as you did in this very moment.”
The pair headed to one of the sofas in the living room, taking off all of their vestments. The ensuing night was one which was lewd, disgusting, messy. A night of sinning actions, a night of unsanitary behavior, a night of things that would’ve drawn a priest into fainting.
A night of the purest, rawest, deepest love between one another, both carnal and personal, that the pair of husband and wife had ever felt.