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Whitney's Recovery
by Blobs4ThePeople


“Okay, just a little lower!” Whitney called as she felt her stomach begin to make contact with the floor of her gym. “I’m starting to touch.” It was the dead of night and she was currently being lowered into her gym via crane. Tomorrow was the grand re-opening of the gym and the reveal of her new body after a lengthy hiatus. Whitney had lost a particularly one sided match against a trainer. The resulting tears, weeping, and anger had prompted a level of deeper thought with Whitney thinking about her training style and Pokemon. She had felt... disconnected from them somehow. She loved her Miltank but it felt like they hadn’t been as instep lately. She knew she needed to do something different, potentially something drastic. Then, like a bolt out of the clear blue sky, it had struck her. On the day of her epiphany, Whitney had been watching Miltank spar against a training dummy. The adorable little cow had just used Rollout, slamming itself into the wooden dummy. Whitney had happened to idly consider how odd it was that her round little Pokemon could use its body in such a way. So much different than a person. She paused, watching as the chubby cow Pokemon went after the dummy again. Or was it? People can get round too. She thought in her own ditsy way.

This had sparked a bit of an inner fire within Whitney. She decided that being a little rounder might work for her. “To understand your Pokemon, you have to be like your Pokemon.” Was a particularly infamous phrase that her fellow trainers in the gym had heard from her. This had led to the present situation, with the new and improved Whitney being lowered into the gym via crane. “Lower, lower!” She tried to call up to the men working the crane. It was hard to gauge how far she was from the ground, but if her stomach was starting to touch she had to be at least 8 or 9 feet from the ground. She had been strapped into a harness earlier that evening in her own house. The workmen had to cut a sizable hole in the roof and then transferred her into a waiting dump truck. She hadn’t loved being stuck in the back of the dirty earth-moving vehicle, but concessions had to be made when you could fill a swimming pool with your body mass.

The ropes jerked suddenly, bouncing Whitney in her seat. “Careful up there! I need to make it down in one piece.” She called, trying to tilt her head further up. It was hard work being a blob, especially for a woman that was used to being active. Whitney tried to tilt her head up, struggling against the weights of her cheeks, jowls, and chins. She couldn’t see what was wrong, if anything, because of how obscured her vision had gotten. Having cheeks the size of beach balls had naturally scrunched her eyes up. “Try...” Whitney paused to squish her pudgy face downward again. “Try to put me over there.” She stretched to point with a nearly useless arm. The weight she had so eagerly put on forced her arms to become doughy pools of fat, acting, swallowing most of her arms. Her pudgy palms and sausage arms poked out in an effort to do their best to point the way for the work crew. The crane lurched towards the side, almost as sluggishly as Whitney’s own movements. She could hear a twisting, grinding sound far up above her. “Is everything OK up there?” She tried to call.

Her question was met with a very curt and decisive “SNAP” of the rope and all too suddenly, Whitney was spinning in the air. It wasn’t a complete free fall, more of a loosely controlled plummet. Several of the ropes with the most tension on the immobile gym leader had given way under her awe inspiring size. Whitney rotated quickly, the small portion of her stomach that had touched the floor acted as an axis. She spun, her useless arms flapping and her toes wiggling. Another set of ropes snapped, sending the huge woman into a full drop. Wind raced by her face and much of her blubber rose with the force of the fall. With a terrific WHOOSH and SLAM she landed on the ground, a torrent of dust escaping out from under the confines of her body as she landed. The floor cracked under her weight, hardly able to hold up the tons of weight now thrust upon it. Whitney’s body shook, rocking back and forth like water in a shaken fish tank.

 “Owwiieeee!” Whitney cried. She wished that she could rub her body, but her arms remained locked in place. Tears filled her eyes as the soreness took hold. She wanted to cry, to gush the pain away in a torrent of tears that would drain down her cheeks and then get lost within her countless chins. But, she had to be stronger than that. Sighing and using some excess cheek fat to rub her eyes, Whitney bit down the urge to girlishly cry.  “I’m... sniff... okay. Sorry about that... I guess I shouldn’t have filled up on Moomoo milk before this.” She called up. The workmen yelled their concern back down both for her well-being as well as her positioning within the gym. Whitney tried to look around and measure where she was. Looking past all of the blubber, or as much as she could, seemed to reveal that she had landed in the middle of the battle arena. She had been aiming for the spot in front of it. “I’m a little too far forward. I’ll have Victoria measure it out in the morning!” 

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“Wh-Whitney?” Beauty Victoria asked as she walked around the blob that had parked itself in the middle of the Goldenrod gym. “Is that you?” she asked in complete disbelief. She could understand Whitney gaining a little bit of weight after the loss she had suffered. Victoria was well aware of how the gym leader handled losing and she had figured some sort of weight gain was in the “incredibly pretty” girl’s future at some point, but not this. She couldn’t have  believed anyone gaining this amount of weight. She walked around the literal wall of booty. The twin mountains of ass cheeks were at least twice as tall as Victoria and many, many times wider. The beauty couldn’t resist touching them. She pushed her palms deep into one of the massive butt cheeks, her hands sinking in past the elbow. Her hands bounced back out, forced by the forceful push-back from Whitney's booty. It bounced and quivered like a waterbed, bouncing and rocking back and forth. Whitney's ass jiggled first because of Victoria’s push, but thereafter jiggled because of the girlish giggles that came from Whitney herself. Victoria continued her lap around the blob that sat in what used to be the battle area of the gym. “This can’t be you, Whitney. Can it?”

As she came around the side of the woman, it was beginning to dawn on her that it really was her leader and longtime friend, she lost track of where her ass and thighs left off and where her stomach began. It seemed to Victoria that there was one continuous pile of blubber and fat, broken only by the immense clothing stretched comically around it. Victoria could see that, high above her, there were two pinnacles of fat that used to be Whitney’s arms. They were crowned with her chubby palms and sausage fingers sprouting out, a pokeball feebly clutched in one. Victoria doubted if the arms could do anything more than simply let the Pokeball fall out of them. Would it even be able to reach the ground? Or would it just get stuck in her fat? Victoria continued the tour of her leader’s blob-like body.

“Hee-hee... what do you think?” Whitney asked, feeling her chins vibrate as she talked. She couldn’t see Victoria yet, nothing below her was visible at this point. She was able to see above herself and straight forward, but anything else was obstructed by her ocean of flab. It surged out in front of her, obscuring the entirety of the arena that Pokemon normally fought in. She was lucky that her breasts were proportionally smaller than the rest of her, otherwise she would have been totally unable to see anything. She cupped the Pokeball in her hand lightly, afraid to let it drop. An assistant could spend hours looking for it within her layers and layers of fat. She did, however, relish the thought of a Pokeball sliding around in her rolls; utterly trapped by the walls of soft fat. “After that last loss I knew I had to rewrite my playbook.” She said, her voice muffled by the pools of facial fat that were her cheeks. They fell to either side of her face, pooling out onto the rest of her neck fat.

Whitney giggled more as she felt Victoria struggle up her bulk. The small woman was dwarfed beyond measure by the piles of the Goldenrod City Gym Leader. Victoria was somewhere around her lower stomach fold about to reach the cavernous divide that had once been her bellybutton. It was funny to think, at least to Whitney, that she had once been proud of how small and unnoticeable her navel area had been. Now, she couldn’t bear the thought of having anything other than a gut that pooled into two enormous, tiered rolls with a third beginning to form. Whitney’s body began to bounce more with more intensity as Victoria stepped up and onto the smaller plateau of fat. The sympathetic jiggles spread throughout her body causing previously still portions of her body to once again dance in turgid glee. Whitney felt it first in her breasts, the two mountainous orbs of pudge shook back and forth with the slow and easy grace of trees in the wind. In contrast, her ass bounced and jiggled with an almost wild abandon. Uncontrolled and even a little turbulent, the sea of booty-blubber bounced and knocked into her piles of back rolls. Whitney was forced into a mindless giggle, pleasure radiating through her as her immobile form showed the ways in which it was still capable of moving.

It took minutes for her to calm down enough to talk. Even when Victoria reached Whitney’s face, the gym leader beauty was in no condition to talk. Her nearly useless arms strained and struggled, aching to rub and touch her flab, but remained well tucked into the pillows of her biceps. Victoria rode the tidal waves of fat, drifting between the large hills of breasts that bounced and knocked into her, waiting for Whitney to calm down enough to speak. Finally, as the last residual jiggles slowed down, Whitney regained her composure. “I needed some inspiration.” Her cheeks wobbled as she spoke, a blush still lingered on them after her recent episode of blob-induced euphoria. “And it came when I tried to get into the mind of my Pokemon. They are all so round and adorable! I knew I had to get a little rounder if I was going to understand how to use them.” She sighed wistfully and turned her face into the wall of cheek-blubber. “Maybe I overdid it a little.” Her face brightened almost immediately. “But! I know I can never lose now!” The immensely fat, immensely pretty gym leader giggled again, all while her trainer friend sighed and shook her head. 

Whitney waited for a second, giving Victoria time to adjust. Regardless of Victoria's mindset about the issue of her weight, Whitney was still in the wrong place in the gym. She would need to be moved back and sooner rather than later. She had devoured several large canisters of Moomoo milk the night before and they would be making their presence known on her body as time went on. Besides, there were going to be many, many more meals. The sooner she was moved, the better for any industrial equipment involved. When her friend seemed at least a little more understanding of the situation, Whitney ventured to ask. “Uhm, could you also do me a favor and help me measure out where I should have landed?”