Growing Future Industries

 After defeating a rogue blood bender, recovering from Zaheer’s brutality, and destroying a
giant robot, Avatar Korra and CEO Asami of Future Industries deserved a break. Touring the Spirit World
was only at the start: the two of them also went on an idyllic retreat into the furthest reaches of the
Earth Kingdom, paddled canoes in both Water Nations, and sampled the cuisine of the hottest Fire
Nation chefs. In fact, by the end of the trip, they’d sampled food from every one of the elemental
nations, enjoyed fine wines distilled from Spirit Vine essence, and attended every one of the Wang Fire’s
Memorial Cook-Off Contests. Asami had always been a fan of fine cuisine, and Korra didn’t mind the
view when her girlfriend leaned over an all-you-can-eat buffet with her ample bosom hanging almost
completely out of a black evening gown.
                By the end of the trip, Korra had acquired delicious recipes from both worlds, won dozens of
underground prize-fights, and mastered so many exotic sexual techniques that Asami had difficulty
walking for weeks. The only thing Asami got from the trip was several hundred thousand calories, all of
which went straight to her waist.
                “Korra. Be honest with me,” grumbled the tech mogul, standing in front of a gilded full-length
mirror in her late father’s mansion. “Am I getting fat?”
                Korra looked up from her magazine on Earth Kingdom bodybuilding, eyeing the thick roll of
flesh around Asami’s waist. It sagged over the waistband of her lace panties and flopped into a small
shelf just above her loins. Her round rump-cheeks looked just a little bit chubbier than usual
and Korra could see a tiny blot of sauce just above her breasts from the morning’s extravagant
breakfast. It brought a smile to Korra’s face to see her once-perfect and svelte Asami “filling out” a little.
                “Hm. I wouldn’t say ‘fat.’ I would say…” Korra sashayed up behind Asami in her pajamas, and
squeezed the soft roll of fat hanging off Asami’s waist, digging her strong brown fingers into the warm
drooping adipose. “Fulsome.” She ran her hands up and down the chubby length of Asami’s torso,
feeling how her girlfriend’s bra strap dug into her plumper sides. “It’s nice not to feel your ribs for a
change, you Skinnie Minnie. It’s a little… Sensual, actually.”
                Asami blushed, prying Korra’s hands off—but not quickly. “Okay, pervert, that’s enough. I’ve
got to go to work and you’ve got to do your Avatar thing. Vacation’s over.”
                After watching Asami squeeze into her tight business wear, her ass filling out her skirt like twin
melons being shoved into a sack, Korra licked her lips watching Asami sashay out the door. “I don’t know
about that…”
HAMMY ANNOUNCER: Previously, on Legend of Korra! The two lovebirds are home at last, but Korra’s
dark desires could change their relationship forever! Also, a Bolin cameo!

                “You’re going to what?” Bolin nearly choked on his noodles. “Korra! Asami is like, really
insecure about her figure! And you’re going to fatten her u—“
                Korra clamped a hand over his mouth. “Shush! It’s not that bad. I’d just like her a couple extra
pounds heavier, that’s all.” She sighed. “Look Bolin, to tell you the truth, sex with Asami is a little…
Boring. She’s been so sheltered all her life, that she just lays there, expecting me to do everything. Is it
so bad I want just a little more to grab onto?”
"Well, it IS highly amoral to overfeed your girlfriend. But as your best friend, I am legally
obliged to help you. Right, Pabu?" Pabu shook his head before jumping into the bowl of noodles. "See,
this is why you can't trust legal advice from fire ferrets. But seriously, I'd pretty much do anything for the
juicy details on your love life. In a completely platonic way of course. Say, do you guys…" He made a
frantic "scissoring" motion with his fingers.
Korra rolled her eyes, nodding.
“HA! Yes! I knew it!!”
“Yeah, yeah, bisexuals do it too. Now that you have your mental images, will you help me?”
Bolin shrugged. “Sure! Abusing food is my middle name. So, you want a nice fluffy air-bison of a girl to
cuddle up to at night. How big we talking, here?”
Korra jammed another pork bun in her mouth, grinning around the hot meat and dough. “Aff big aff
poffible…Urp!”
The next day, Korra snuck up on Asami while she was in her study, toiling away at Future
Industries accounting ledgers. Cora had discovered sneaking up on her lover wasn’t as easy as
it used to be — she had not acquired Asami’s huge spare tire, but her thighs rubbed together
and her rear had a lot more heft to it than it used to. Mako would have called it “love poundage”
and turned up his nose, but Korra didn’t mind a little extra booty to “accidentally” bump into
every time she climbed out of bed. Water Tribes were known for their soft arctic women, after
all, and if there was one thing both tribes agreed on, it was that bigger equaled better.
Reaching around Asami’s leather armchair, Korra dug her fingers into her lover’s soft sides.
“Boo,” she whispered in the girl’s ear and grinned as Asami twisted around to give an ambush of
her own with a wet kiss. She tasted of chocolate and scotch.
“No hanky-panky for you,” Asami said as she put down her pen. “I’m trying to run a company
here, you know.” Her plush smoking jacket only partially concealed the enormous bulge of her
waist, and Cora saw blotches on the ends of her lips where her favorite chocolate liquers had
stained Asami’s skin. The woman practically never stopped snacking nowadays, a stress
symptom that Korra didn’t mind in the slightest.
“Trying to run it into the ground, more like,” Korra teased, squeezing the warm sag of Asami’s
potbelly as she looked over the records. “More mechs? Aren’t people tired of those, after what
happened to Republic City?”
“It’s what my company does best. I’m just trying to stay above the profit line, here.” The
exhaustion in Asami’s voice stole Korra’s teasing smirk away and the curvy Avatar decided to
put Bolin’s plan in motion right away. After all, the one thing that seemed to give Asami
consistent pleasure was food…
“Why not try something different?” She pulled out a sheet of financial records. “A little bird got
these for me—and by a little bird, I mean Detective Mako. They’re the results of Cabbage
Corp’s new line of instant Quick-Food.”
“Quick-Food? But that stuff is junk. It has no redeeming nutritional values, and the rumors of
customer addiction are—” Asami’s eyes widened as she stared at Cabbage Corp’s net gains
from the cheap frozen treats. “He made this much? On frozen dinners?”
“And that’s just from Firebending customers, who can instantly thaw out the food and eat it on
the go.” Korra ran a finger down the sales charts, her other hand sliding up to rest “casually” on
Asami’s chest. “Think of what you could do if you repurposed your electric gauntlets as cooking
devices for non-benders!”
“The marketing potential alone is… Staggering!” Leaping up with a jiggle and a stifled burp as
her insides shifted, Asami clasped Korra in a bear-hug. “Korra, thank you! You’re a genius! This
could completely revitalize Future Industries!”
Korra chuckled as she glimpsed the swell of Asami’s soft rear over her girlfriend’s shoulders.
“No problem. I just want to help your assets keep…growing.”

HAMMY ANNOUNCER: Previously, on Legend of Korra! Korra’s advice from Bolin to push Asami into
instant cuisine has worked! Profits are booming, and after a while, so are the genius inventor’s
buttocks!! But is Korra, a master Earthbender, ready for the more “earthy” aspects of Asami’s
changes?…
“Mmf! I don’t know how I ever hated Quick-Food, this new line of instant sausages is great!” Asami
walked along a conveyer belt in one of her father’s factories, scooping up samples as she went and
gobbling them down. Like a kid in a candy shop, Asami was eager to taste her employees’ new
creations—again, and again, and again. She zapped one of the frozen sausages with her gauntlet, biting
into it with a spurt of grease. “GULP slurp CHOMP. Hmm, this one needs to be more savory. Get on it!”
“Yes, ma’am!” The foreman marched off to berate the cooks who were icebending the meat. Korra
followed behind her lover, licking her lips—but not at the food. Asami’s rear had ballooned into a fleshy
pendulum that filled out her red business skirt like a parade float, and the leathery slapping sound of her
softened stomach bouncing on her thighs was music to the Avatar’s ears. In her head-first dive into the
fast food trade, Asami had been letting herself go more and more, elaborate “taste testing” board
meetings usually dissolving into debauched feasts where the Future Industries CEO would eat every
single sample offered to her by the many food experts she’d hired. Every time Asami expressed worry
over splitting seams or bursting buttons, Korra had been there to assuage her ego and tell her she
looked more gorgeous than ever. Appealing to Asami’s vanity was a bit underhanded, but totally worth
it—the Avatar now had more booty to plunder than the Blind Bandit had at the height of her career.
The raven-haired business queen belched around a mouthful of instantly-cooked meat pie, licking her
plump fingers as she turned to Korra. “What do you think, sweetie? Should we start branching out into
vegetables yet? I feel kind of URP bad, peddling this stuff to BRELLP customers… Excuse me.”
Korra shrugged, feeling her chest quiver as her shoulders moved. She hadn’t escaped the calorie storm
the two now lived their lives in, and her breasts and rear had doubled in size, sweat pooling in her
underarms at the slightest exercise. Of course, her pounds were nothing compared to Asami’s new
girth… and new odors. Deodorant shipments to the Future Industries mansion had quadrupled since
Korra had set her girlfriend on a crash course with cheap addicting meat products. “I think we’re just
giving the people what they want. The low prices are also good for the city’s poor!”
“I guess…” Asami swallowed another greasy burp and hefted her middle, staring down at her slowly
shredding double-triple-plus-size business coat, the brass buttons hanging on by literal threads. “I just
don’t know if it’s good for them to be eating it. Or for me!” The burp finally snuck its way out, and Korra
smelled salami mixed with pancakes, cheese and instant macaroni as a rumbling eructation soared out
of her tubby girlfriend. “Whew! Excuse me!” Asami said again, flushing a little as she let her porky
stomach slap back onto her thighs.
“You’re excused—” Korra was about to start flirting with her tank of a lover right there on the factory
floor, but one of the worker’s electric gauntlets malfunctioned and flung a bolt of lightning at the two.
“Asami! Get down!”
“Huh?” Her reflexes slowed by the hundred-plus pounds she’d packed on in a few short weeks, Asami
was too swollen to get out of the way in time—fortunately, she’d made the excellent decision to get fat
and date the Avatar at the same time. Korra tackled her porcine beloved, pulling her out of the way of
the bolt and pressing her to the cold metal floors. Laying on top of Asami was like straddling a warm,
panting, sweaty waterbed and Korra struggled to avoid getting aroused in front of the whole
manufacturing floor as she helped her lover up.
“Be careful with that stuff!” she hollered at the worker, recognizing him as one of her old pro-bending
opponents. “Man, you’re clumsy even off the court, huh?” This got a couple laughs from the staff, and
seeing Asami unharmed, the company’s production continued—a little more carefully this time. “Hey
honey, you okay?” Korra asked, worried that a hair on her bulging flower’s head might have been
damaged.
“I’m fine! Hair’s out of place, but I…I…” Asami blanched as several hours of gorging on carb-heavy
burritos, frozen hot dogs, and carbonated beverages made its way southward, jostled by Korra’s pump
body slamming into her. “Oh. Korra, sweetie, you may want to… Step… Back…”
“What—” Korra got her answer as a fart the size of a lion-turtle’s roar blasted out of Asami, lifting the
overfed woman’s skirts and fluttering her disheveled hair. It smelled like the back end of a garbage
hauling blimp and raised every hair on the back of Korra’s neck.
And yet… She was strangely proud of that sound. It proved everything she’d done was working—Asami
really was BIG, in industry as well as circumference! As the whole factory stopped again to stare at their
boss, Korra slapped a conveyer belt, her metalbending leaving a frightening dent in it. “What are you all
looking at? Get back to work!”
Asami had grown so red-cheeked her face resembled a giant, chubby tomato. She hurried for the door,
brushing off Korra’s hand when the Avatar went to console her. “Don’t! I’m gross. I’m huge. I should
never have started eating this junk.”
Korra hoped no investors were listening. “Hey. Just because you have a little gas doesn’t mean you’re
disgusting. You’re a human being—gas happens.” Not to mention, the way Asami’s ass rippled when she
cut cheese got Korra wet as a turtleduck, but there was no reason to bring that up. “The company
expects you to be strong, right? Don’t run off now! Not when we’re so close to beating out the
competition!” The old competitive gleam lit in Korra’s eyes as she pictured herself and Asami crushing
the opposition, leading the charge into new markets and new demographics. Spiritual master or not,
Korra loved winning, almost as much as she loved the way Asami’s new butt destroyed chairs.
Asami sniffled, half from distress and half from the sting the vapors of her rump had left in her eyes. She
hugged Korra, her soft torso nearly swallowing the smaller girl. “Heh. You sound like Varrick! But…
thanks. I had no idea you were so invested in me, Korra. In my business. It… It means a lot to me.”
Korra pulled her into a hug, her entire body sinking into the plush musky mass that was Asami. Her
girlfriend’s body odor was growing stronger with every pound, but Korra found it primitively appealing,
somehow. She nuzzled into Asami’s long hair, which had grown greasy from her constant gobbling and
had more than a few crumbs in it. “Don’t worry. I’m here for good. I want to see all of this get much,
much bigger.”
She kissed the clammy ring of fat gathered around Asami’s neck, and the overweight girl giggled,
assuming she was talking about the company. “Remind me to show you later… I started managing a line
of plus-sized lingerie,” she whispered to Korra. “But the product will need extensive testing…”
Korra bit her lip, digging her fingers into Asami’s enormous sides until her porcine girlfriend squeaked
and swatted at her playfully. “I’d love that.”
HAMMY ANNOUNCER: Previously, on Legend of Korra! Korra’s zeppelin of a lover is out of control! The
seduction of Quick-Food is too powerful, and she’s turning into a hock of ham that would make a pig
spirit jealous! Can Korra slow the freight train of flatulence before it’s too… Ah, screw it, you all know
how this is going to end. I’m going on break. Stay tuned for a message from our sponsor, FIREBURGER!
After that evening, Asami was no longer concerned about being unattractive to Korra; the Avatar was
more lustful than ever, devouring every inch of Asami’s blubbery body with her tongue. Freed from the
fear of alienating her lover, Asami dove headfirst into the lifestyle of a wealthy fast food queen. And
there was plenty of wealth to be had: Quick-Food was a sensation when coupled with Asami’s
microwaving gadgets, to the point that the President had to institute new laws to keep people from
gorging on the stuff wherever they went. “If the people can’t have self-control, then Republic City will
become a pigsty, and I won’t have that!” he trumpeted over the radio, which blared into a newly
finished Fireburger Restaurant that Asami had commissioned. Korra bent a little water into the radio,
which sputtered and expired as the triumphant Asami reached for her fifth Fireburger.
Alone in the restaurant before opening day, the two of them had been forced to earth-bend a barrier to
keep eager customers out, but the eager clamor outside still continued. Worried about the production
line in the back of the restaurant, Asami had insisted on staying after the workers had left and
personally trying out every flash-frozen product, which Korra dutifully thawed and shoveled onto a tray
for her woman to devour. Although she couldn’t help but get a little worried, the phrase “too much of a
good thing” dancing in her mind.
Asami was huge. Not chubby, not fat, but truly huge after months of bingeing on her own food line, her
classy dresses and leather pilot gear destroyed by her exponentially expanding waistline. Self-control
abandoned, she now passed gas freely in front of Korra, gobbling down deep-fried potato chunks and
spicy Fireburgers with an almost mechanical speed. Right now she hunched over the nearest table, her
silk-gloved fingers shoveling food into her mouth as fast as she could.
Lipstick smeared, eyeliner running and skin pastier than an Earth Kingdom miner’s, Asami was a mess.
More than a mess: she was a disgrace, her enormous stomach flapping down past her knees and her
upper arms transformed into hanging bingo-wings of flesh. The only thing in her wardrobe that still fit
her, a huge black dress that was more like a silk tarp than anything else, hung from the musky rolls of
her bloated shape like a shroud. Sweat rolled from under her arms and from between her slabs of meaty
flank, staining the dress and adhering it to her gargantuan body. Wheezing around a mouthful of
masticated burger, Asami belched and waved happily at Korra.
“Thanks, uuuUUURPhh honey! Looks like the…” She squinted and released a beef-and-chili-scented fart
that filled the front of the restaurant with fumes. “Oof! ‘Scuze me. Looks like the buh-RELCH, the spice
burgers are okay. But we’d better –chomp- test them one more time, just—HICCUP—just to be sure!”
She wiped her mouth with a cloth napkin in a gesture meant to seem dainty, but that came across as
more of a sloppy, half-assed attempt at maintaining her hygiene, which had long since disappeared in
clouds of gas.
“Are you sure?” Korra was having second thoughts about all of this. She was hornier than she’d ever
been in her life, her Water Tribe genes telling her the woman in front of her was the most prosperous,
sexy pile of meat she’d ever seen. But at over five hundred pounds, Asami was still a pile of meat, and
Korra felt guilty as she served up another five burgers, a paper hat balanced on top of her chin-length
hair. The stained apron she wore was coated in mess from the dozens of meals Asami had absorbed
seemingly by osmosis.
“YES! I mean… Yes, please.” The smelly, overweight pig of a businesswoman batted her eyelashes at
Korra, a gesture that could have been sexy if a long, high pitched fart hadn’t been leaking from her ass.
“I’ll make it BRULLCH worth your while, I promise. ErrrUUUP.” She covered her mouth a little too late as
chunks of beef flew from between her teeth, spraying the table as they were propelled by her gaseous
explosions. “I’ll do that HURP thing with my stomach, the one you like… You perv,” she teased, lifting
one hulking shelf of ass-cheek as the whining fart built into a full-fledged PFAROOOMPTF of stench.
Korra blushed, her chubby thighs clenching. Even as an accomplice, she hadn’t been able to avoid a few
dozen pounds herself, but she didn’t care just as long as the gorgeous balloon in front of her kept eating.
“Y-yes, ma’am. Five more burgers, coming up!”
HAMMY ANNOUNCER: Previously, on Legend Of—Whoops, wrong program. Today on Republic City
News! The owner of Future Industries has thrown a gala for charity using the proceeds from her insanely
successful restaurant line! Let’s just hope nothing happens to taint the evening, or Asami and her
investors could have a “farting” of the ways… Get it? Heh? See, this is why I failed as a comedian and
went into radio! Everyone’s a critic!
The fancy ballroom was packed with high society: diplomats, art traders, high-ranking Republic City
officials and, of course, Quick-Food fans. Korra swallowed nervously as she closed her hand around the
handle of the heavily modified Satomobile (in truth, just a frozen foods delivery truck with gilded
hubcaps) that her girlfriend currently was filling with intestinal gas. She was pretty sure the driver had
passed out moments after pulling up to the red carpet.
“You can do this…” Korra’s dinner, a heavy bevy of Quick-Food products she’d scarfed before leaving the
mansion with Asami, churned greasily in her loaded guts. Nerves and stress had taken a toll on her
physical health, not just her spiritual well-being: she now looked like a darker, miniature version of
Asami, her breasts sagging with fat to either side of a well-padded pot belly, sweat stains running down
the sides of the elegant blue evening gown she wore and her ass threatening to burst free from the
fabric in a riotous display of jiggling brown cheeks, both still shining from the spanking adventures of the
previous evening. Asami might be immense, but she was still a genius, and the “auto-spanker” was
Korra’s favorite invention yet.
The debauched glories of last night were just a memory, though. Right now, she was panicking, gas
spurting from her overfed rear in tiny squirts of warm air. “Just… Keep smiling,” she told herself. Taking
a breath, she opened the door to the automobile.
Asami didn’t so much get out as pour herself out, her entire body wobbling and heaving like some vast
mountain of jelly pressed into a thrice-burst-and-repaired flapper “pencil skirt” which was now more of
a “battleship turret skirt.” Red sequins and ribbons had glimmered on the production line but were now
entirely soaked with the grease and sweat that continually poured off Asami’s body. Small belches and
farts were the orchestral accompaniment to the girl’s emergence as almost a thousand pounds of
woman oozed out of the reinforced Satomobile and flopped gasping onto the carpet, which immediately
grew damp with her perspiration.
Korra’s carnal delights had come with a price. She’d fed Asami burger after burger, burrito after burrito
and poured hundreds—maybe thousands—of milkshakes, beers and wines down her throat only to
realize too late that she was the fiancé of a powerful CEO and that maybe this wasn’t the best thing for
their health, OR for public relations. Asami, unfortunately, didn’t seem to care in the least how titanic
and smelly she was, so long as she could continue stuffing her face and getting naughty with her plump
but still athletic Avatar. Korra swallowed nervously as the pyramid of fat that was her lover burped and
panted. “What’s wrong? Come on, we have to get in there?”
“KorraaaUUURRP. I… I can’t bRUHORpp walk,” whimpered Asami, pawing at her unending rolls as she
tried to force one massive thigh past the other. Both were hidden by the waterfall that was her
stomach, and Korra heard the skirts shredding as Asami grew bigger literally before her eyes. “I ate too
HORK much. FRRRURP.” Tears glimmered in her eyes above jowls so long and dangling they looked like
forty-ounce steaks in makeup.
“What?!” Korra’s own gas ramped up as she realized the disaster ahead of them. Until now they’d
skated by, insisting Asami’s size was a measure of her place in society and that Quick-Food was “good
for the soul.” If Asami couldn’t move, not even Varrick (now a prominent business partner) would be
able to spin them a good cover story. “But…I walked you into the car myself! How is that—urp!
Possible?” Her ass clapped a little, as a terrified PFOONT rocketed out of her dimpled rump.
“I might have, uhHORRRP, eaten a little bit in the c-URRKKLLRP. In the car…” Asami blushed, or perhaps
it was her terrible blood pressure going to her cheeks, Korra wasn’t sure.
“How much?” Korra’s voice was filled with dread as she watched Asami struggle for breath.
Asami blinked, calculating. “F-forty Fireburgers…maybe a couple dozen p-pounds of GLURRRP fries. And
lots of those delicious little potato skin things, with the cheese, wrapped in HURP in BLORRP wrapped in
guh-HURRRPPPH b-b-bacon…” She was so gassy she could barely speak; Korra saw the crumbs, sauce
and cheese of her gorging stuck to her flabby lips. “And a couple gallons of the new HIC-urrrp
carbonated sugar water.” She drooled a little out of the mouth. “It was sooo good, Korra. W-we made a
gooHORRRPppp good business decision on HICCUP, on that one.”
“Oh my spirits. You really can’t move?” Asami shook her head, miserable, her many chins wagging in a
reaction chain of swaying fat. “Alright. Don’t um, don’t URP overexert yourself. We can fix this.”
Lifting her pudgy arms, Korra mashed her heel on the ground, her chest slapping and jiggling. “I’m going
to Earthbend under your feet. To make it look like you’re walking. Thank Raava the floor in there is
slate!” She ground her heel into the floor. “Did I get your feet?” she said, pushing a column of earth up
somewhere under Asami’s fat.
The immobile woman’s eyes went wide, and she bit her lip. “N-not quite, but if you HGLURRP k-keep
that up, I’d prefer to stay gluRRRpp right here!”
Korra rolled her eyes. “Focus!” She managed to create a rolling column of earth under Asami. “Now for
those uh, parts of you sweating a lot. So, all of you.” She crooked a finger, Airbending so that a soft
breeze ran under Asami’s fat flaps continually, easing her overheated frame. “Okay. We might get
through tonight without the company URRRP crashing. Ready to go?”
Asami sniffled, humiliated but unable to stop leaking gas from both ends. “C-can I maybe,
BURRRRORPhhh, have a snack?”
Korra looked her fiancé up and down, her loins roaring with desire as she saw the very earth crack under
Asami despite the elemental precautions. “Okay,” she said, pulling out a chocolate bar from between
her breasts, where she’d been hiding it for the evening. “But just one. I think–” Her hair was blown back
as a shockwave of a fart boomed out of the delighted Asami. “I think your, urp, assets have grown
enough for one year.