Another Metamorphs story by my friend who's done the Geo Mass saga so far, plus a few dealing with Li! :3 More adorable Silver City fatties this time, not just Geo Lass but a villain, too :P Enjoy!

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Silver City is known for being the gathering place for heroes; humans and anthromorphs alike all gifted with unique superpowers and using them to protect the city from any oncoming threats. These superpowered beings are known collectively as Metas, and come in all shapes and sizes, all species and ages.
But no heroes are complete without villains, and Silver City is chock full of both.



A good example of this would be at the Paxton Superstore on one day. Paxton was a large England-born conglomerate, with extensions into media, clothing, and their biggest draw, confectioneries. Its Superstore chain has branches across the world, but arguably its biggest influence was in Silver City, with advertisements on almost every billboard and jumbo LCD screen. This made Paxton one of the biggest businesses in the city; tieing with the Faustus Organisation, who they are rumoured to have a friendly business relationship.

Of course, with all this success and popularity, this also made Paxton a common target for would-be criminals or up-and-coming organisations.

Such as this very day, where a robbery was taking place.
For some unknown reason, the Superstore’s high-tech security system had been disabled, and every floor of the multistory building had been compromised by armed thugs, dressed in the traditional black-clothes-and-ski-mask getup. Not a lot though, ten at most, but there was strength in numbers; especially if those numbers were armed to the teeth.

A van was parked in an alleyway beside the store, ready to haul out its spoils. The first floor was a priority, since it held Paxton’s largest draw; junk food, desserts and other confectioneries. These treats, all under their own brand name of PaxSnax, were known to contain a chemical specially design in the Paxton Labs, making them incredibly addictive, and just as fattening.
However, the chemical also somehow negated any and all cholesterol buildup that would have been imminent from so much intake, so every single adult, teenager, child and Meta that was hooked on the stuff would be incredibly huge, lazy and addicted, but also perfectly healthy.
And a lot of adults, teenagers, children and Metas were hooked on it.

These robbers, who had formed their own little gang, wanted to find the secret to this chemical and use it to their own advantage, since Paxton refused to sell or even talk about the compound. Desperate to have it, this group even hired an outside tech-expert to shut down the security, the lock the doors and turn off the lights; which meant no alarms and so people walking around outside were none the wiser.



“Come on, hurry up!” A large human male barked, seemingly the leader of the group, “Haul as many crates as you can.”

He kept his machine gun pointed at the chubby tabby-cat girl at the desk, who had her paws up and trying her best not to cry from fear, while the rest of the thugs hauled large wooden crates in the storeroom behind the desk, through a side-door into the alley.

“That’s a good kitty,” he chuckled confidently, “just keep still and don’t do anything stupid, and you’ll be just fine.” The girl just sniffled in compliance.

The boss raised an eyebrow as he heard something from the double doors behind the desk. It sounded like yelling and fighting. He swore; the police must’ve found out, or worse, a Meta.

“You stay right there, don’t move.” He ordered, keeping his gun pointed at the tabby, who stayed perfectly still, as he walked around the desk and through the double doors.



Once the anthro was out of his line of sight, the boss turned around in the storeroom and bumped into something. It was rather soft, green and rubbery, and it gave off a wobble and a ‘bloop’ noise from impact.

“What the…?” He muttered, shaking his head and looking forward.
A short, very round mole anthromorph stood in his way, sporting grey fur, short copper hair on its head, and wearing a green one-piece spandex outfit with metal plating on the elbows and shoulders, and black gloves with a matching eye-mask. The anthromorph also sported a round physique, with a pair of large basketball-sized breasts (confirming to him it was female) and a pair of pumpkin-sized buttcheeks, as well as a large protruding stomach.

He recognised the Meta right away. “Geo Lass?!”
“Indeed,” the short, English-accented mole grinned confidently, her chubby cheeks squished up from the effort.

What he hadn’t seen was the outstanding stitching and patchwork on the mole’s outfit, having been repaired from its owners...growth.
A lot of anthromorphs were hooked on PaxSnax, and Geo Lass, being one of the company’s sponsors, was one of them. Her advertising work for the company meant payment in not only money, but regularly delivered crates of the very snacks she helped sell right to her door. She and her children absolutely adore the stuff...albeit a bit much, her husband might say.

“I’ve taken care of your friends outside, sweetie,” Geo Lass smirked, nodding towards the open doors to the alley, and a group of unconscious masked thugs at the wall, “now if you would be so kind as to surrender-”
She was suddenly interrupted by a punt square in the stomach by the boss’ rifle grip.
His attention was to knock the rolly-polly mole onto her backside and render her slow to act, but all he managed to do was cause a loud ‘bloop’ noise and wide ripple of blubber from her stomach spreading around her body.

“Oof! Hmhmhm~!” She giggled, seemingly being tickled by the sensation. “Don’t do that!”

The boss scowled and went for it again, but Geo Lass saw it coming this time. Being a Meta, she had her own superpower; the ability to control rocks and the earth beneath her.
With a raise of her thick paw, a small slab of stone shot out of the ground between the two, socking the boss square on the chin, knocking the gun to the floor and sending him onto his back.

The slab returned to the ground, and a smirking Geo Lass stood before him, arms folded and her breasts slightly squished up from the effort but she kept her demeanor.

“Well, that’s what you get for being a bad sport,” she sighed mockingly, grabbing the leader and throwing him out the doors to his goons, laying unconscious with them.
She then noticed the tubby tabby anthro standing by the doors to the main shop, then flashed her a friendly grin. “All clear!”


“Oof, what a morning,” Helena sighed, sitting her large grey-furred rump on her bed, causing it to creak from the weight, “I go out for an early snack, then all that nonsense.”

Geo Lass’s alter ego, the part-time wrestler and full-time devoted mother Helena Barrows, was exhausted. Fighting a lot of goons who were invading her favourite store, and all she wanted was something nice to snack on for the day.
Changed into her favourite green sweater, which failed to hide a portion of her stomach, and her brown pants, which took some doing to pull on, all the mole mother wanted to do was relax, maybe have a nap...

Her empty stomach let out a loud grumble, causing the blubber packed inside to quiver and jiggle slightly.
“Oh, that’s right!” She giggled, putting a pudgy paw to her middle and rubbing it softly to sooth it. “Not to worry, we got a nice reward for helping out.”

She turned her head to a large crate on the floor, bearing the PaxSnax logo. As a reward for saving the store and her life, the desk girl was so grateful that she let her take home one of the stolen crates. And since Helena knew perfectly well what was inside, she was more than happy to accept it.

The hungry Meta lifted the crate with both paws and brought it back to her bed, pulling open the lid, which let out a cool breeze from being coldly air-packed, and dumping its contents onto the sheets. Boxes, packets, tubs and wrappers of assorted treats and desserts bounced onto the bed, until a potential mountain of them stood at the end of it. Chocolate bars, cookies, cakes, icecream, pies and muffins stood in a delicious brightly coloured pile.

Licking her lips, Helena settled herself onto the bed, which bended and creaked from the heavy mole’s sheer weight. Taking a long look at her upcoming binge, her stomach let out another loud quivering growl.

“Oof, easy girl,” she giggled, drumming her thick sausage-fingers on her jiggly middle, “I’m gonna start now~”



She grabbed the closest snack to her, a packet of large cookies with multi-coloured chips, and tore it open, popping one of the baked treats into her awaiting mouth.
As usual, an overwhelming taste of sweet chocolatey goodness exploded in her mouth, causing her to let out a giddy giggle before dumping the rest inside, chewing and crunching slowly to enjoy the delicious flavour before swallowing.

As expected, with any PaxSnax product, as Helena ate more and more, her body began to instantly expand with fat. Thanks to that special Paxton chemical, the calories didn’t bother to store themselves for potential energy later; instead they converted straight into pure blubber, which began to fatten her up at a scary pace.

As she ate and ate, her stomach swelled even bigger and rounder, her sweater failing more and more to accommodate it and becoming more of a wooly bra than anything. Her paws got thicker and softer right before her eyes, but she either didn’t notice, or didn’t care. Her breasts also began expanding, challenging the capacity her bra could handle. Her brown pants, already rather small in the first place, began to show signs of ripping and tearing as her thighs became thicker and her backside became even rounder. Her feet also began bloating up, her toes getting tubbier as they wiggled with greedy glee.

The double chin under her round face began to develop a third, and her chubby cheeks were starting to creep into her peripheral vision. But she wasn’t the least bit concerned, or even noticed; she was too enraptured by her addiction-fueled greed to do anything besides eat, eat, eat, and eat some more.

As her weight heightened, the bed bended and creaked even more, the shift causing the the mountain of fattening treats to pile onto her. The sudden attack surprised her, but it was a happy surprise as she let out a greedy giggle while smacking her lips.

By the time Helena’s kids came home from school, and her husband from work, she was a completely immobile blob. Her bed was totally destroyed, becoming a bed herself; her belly was a grey mountainish dome of furry blubber that rose and fell with her breath, and jiggled with every movement she made. Her only downside, that she could think of anyway, was that she couldn’t get to her regularly delivered box of PaxSnax downstairs.

Her family was shocked at her transformation, but they all took it well quickly; the kids began to cuddle and snuggle up to her, and her husband promised to get her anything she needed till she could walk again.

Upon hearing that, her stomach let out a long, loud, ominous howl of hunger, causing it to bounce and jiggle slightly, along with the chubby mole cubs atop it.

“Well,” she said slowly, her voice deep and bass, and slowed from pure laziness, “you could, get me and the kidsh, the boxh of shnacksh, downstairsh~” She slowly smacked her lips, the fat around her mouth giving her a lisp.

Her husband sighed, but with the kids’ help, the crate was hauled upstairs, and the mammoth mama mole happily dug into her spoils, sharing with her children as well of course; her husband wasn’t too fond of the stuff.

So they ate, and ate, and ate, and grew, and grew, and grew…



Earlier in the morning…


“Och, bloody-...” Rootkit grumbled, looking at her computer screen. She was watching a live security feed of the Paxton Superstore storeroom, and Geo Lass beating up the boss. “Can’t get anyone bloody reliable, can I?” She sighed, twirling a bang of her short, dull red hair with her finger.

Blair MacAfee, known better as her alter ego Rootkit, was a seventeen year-old red squirrel anthromorph hailing from Dunbar, Scotland. A small but dangerous young woman, she was a computer genius, and an expert hacker. She also has skill with creating robots, having a few around as her assistants in her little lair. Her lair that she never left.
Being a Meta, her power is incredibly fitting to her occupation; she is able to transform herself into pure computer code and enter systems, inject viruses and delete files. She also has a mild control of cybermancy; enabling her to conjure pure computer code, as well as possess robots and mech suits. And thanks to her genius-level IQ, she’s yet to be beaten at mind games, or games of logic and strategy.

Of course, all this gave her quite the swollen ego, and despite being paid upfront for hacking the store’s security, she felt her reputation dropping at least fifty points.

“Getting through that bloody Paxton system took hours,” the squirrel ranted quietly to herself, clacking on her keyboard to restore the security system to normal, “and these noobs gets beaten up in not even ten bloody minutes! And by that lardball Geo Lass of all people!”

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and clicking off her hacking software while taking another potato chip out of the open packet next to her. She popped it in her mouth and crunched it loudly while clicking around. “Might as well put a game on, I’m in the mood for shooting something. With big guns. Really big guns.”

Despite her sedentary lifestyle, sweet tooth, and absolute refusal to step outside, Rootkit had quite a slender figure; 5’3 and only a meager 110 lbs. “It all goes to me brain.” She’d say if anyone asked, with a snide smirk.


The nerdy squirrel popped a CD into her computer’s drive, cracking her knuckles and putting on her cockiest smirk as she waited for her game to boot up. She needed a bit of confidence rebuilding after seeing her ‘partners’ trashed like that. And what better way to build confidence than to get an awesome killstreak?

But just as she went to click start, one of her little hovering sentry-bots flew right into her face, blocking her view.

“Oi!” She yelped, rolling back in her beat-up office chair to get a better view. “Can I help ye with somethin’?!”
“Apologies, mistress,” the little saucer droned in a digital monotone voice, lights blinking as it ‘spoke’, “but a package has arrived for you. A large one.”
“Eh?” The squirrel blinked, cocking an eyebrow. “I didn’t order anythin’.”
“My visual receptors have detected your name is indeed on it as the addressee,” the sentry explained.
Rootkit let out a long sigh, rolling her eyes. “Fine then, get the big ones to bring it in.”

And with that the little tin saucer flew off, back toward the door.







The little genius sat back in her chair, wearing the most bored expression she could muster as she watched two of her larger guard robots carry a large crate into her lair, setting it beside her. She peered down at the address on the top; sure enough, ‘Blair MacAfee’ was on the top.

She eyed one of the droids and nodded toward the wooden behemoth on the floor. “Crack it open, would ye?”

The robot said nothing but complied right away, tearing the lid off the crate.

“Thanks, now go do somethin’ productive till I need ye again,” she mumbled, sending them away with a dismissive hand wave, and the robots slowly stomped off.

Peering into the crate, the first thing Rootkit noticed was a folded piece of paper with ‘Read me first!’ on it. Shrugging, she lifted up the paper and unfolded it. Listening to a sheet of paper hadn’t killed her yet.

“Dear Ms. MacAfee,” she mumbled to herself, reading out the note, “thank ye for purchasing blah blah blah, blah blah, first time purchase, blah blah blah, first time customer so no charge?” She shrugged, cocking her head. “Nice. Blah, blah blah blah, yers sincerely, some corporate loser.”

Rootkit rolled her eyes and crumpled up the paper in her paws, chucking it over her shoulder. “Must’ve ordered this on accident when I was going through the system.”

She had another look inside the box. Inside were a lot of small boxes and packets, all of them branded with PaxSnax. Blinking nonchalantly, she grabbed a packet, reading out the text; PaxSnax CaraChoc Squares.
“Hm,” she mumbled. The packet looked nice and colourful, and she did like chocolate.

She ripped the top of the packet off, taking a whiff of the contents. A small grin escaped onto her face and her small stomach let out a grumble of anticipation. That did smell pretty good.

She stuffed a paw into the packet and lifted out one of the little squares inside, holding it between her finger and thumb as she inspected it.
“Smells nice, looks rather good,” she mumbled, then with a swish of her bushy tail, shrugged and popped it into her mouth.





Her jade eyes, half-closed from boredom, suddenly shot open. Her taste buds nearly exploded from the exquisite blend of sweet chocolate and smooth sticky caramel.
As she swallowed the sweet goodness, she slowly blinked from her new-found euphoria and gazed down at the packet of CaraChoc Squares, then to the large crate of PaxSnax treats, realising every last bit of it was hers.

“I think ye lil’ beauties are gonna be me new BFF’s,” she giggled, smacking her lips as she swiveled in her chair to face her computer screen, “an’ yer all gonna help me get the highest score ever!”

She used one paw to type in her log-in details, and the other to pop a pawful of chocolates into her awaiting mouth. “Mmm, that stuff’s good~!”



“Yes! Headshot!” Rootkit cheered, pumping her fist as she took out another virtual player. “NPC’s are so dumb!”
What she hadn’t noticed, was the sudden movement causing her upper arm to jiggle and her chest to wobble slightly.

Too busy snacking and gaming, the squirrel hadn’t noticed that she was actually slowly putting on weight thanks to her new snacks. Her white and gold spandex jumpsuit was tighter, trying to contain her growing breasts and stomach, and her thighs and but beginning to push against the material.

“Oof, must be gettin’ chafed or somethin’,” she mumbled, adjusting herself on her chair and tugging on her suit.

Behind and underneath her were empty PaxSnax packets and wrappers, and next to her was a box of triple-chocolate muffins, one of which she held up to her face and gobbled up greedily while she played. Every few swallows caused her body to bounce and swell up with another layer of soft warm blubber. Her face got rounder, cheeks chubbying up and a double chin beginning to appear.

As her eating, gaming, fattening, and tugging on her suit continued, she failed to acknowledge the sounds of pops, tears and rips coming from her jumpsuit. Every pull and tug of the spandex outfit was causing it to form little rips here and there, allowing puffs of fluffy red fur and fat to seep out.



As well as her game, she had a chatroom up with an online friend. When she saw the tab blinking, indicating a new message, every attempt to reply was foiled by her thickening paws hitting more than one key.

“Dumb keyboard’s acting up again,” she huffed, popping another cookie into her mouth, blimping a tiny bit more as she swallowed.

Her chair was also beginning to show problems; as her greed and her size continued to constantly level up, so did her weight. And as a result, the poor office chair could take no more and, with really bad timing as her suit had finally surrendered and ripped to shreds, was crushed beneath the squirrel-blob’s bulk.

“Gah!” She yelped, bouncing on her back-fat softly, unharmed by the fall. “Bloody brilliant.”
She called for her sentry-bot and ordered it to tell the guard-bots to bring the sofa over...after helping her onto her feet.



“More Paxtade, mistress?” The sentry-bot offered, using one of its tiny retractable claw-hands to pop open a can of the Paxtade energy drink.

“Jush’, pour it in me mouth,” Rootkit grunted, the fat accumulated around her face forcing a lisp into her speech. Her voice was deeper, had more bass, and was slower from pure laziness.

The robot carefully poured the coloured fizzy liquid into its master’s open mouth. Rootkit smacked her lips and slurped a ‘thanks’ before her stomach gurgled and bubbled, visibly quivering from all its accumulated blubber, and let out a loud burp that nearly sent the poor device flying into the wall.

In under an hour, Rootkit had gone from a slender little squirrel genius to a slobby, immobile blob of fur and fat. Her paws, too thick and useless for gaming, were instead being used to stuff snack after snack after snack into her greedy mouth, while an electronic helmet on her head used its thin arms and claw-hands to enter commands into the keyboard and mouse, both balanced on her enormous sagging breasts.

Her stomach was a humongous red dome, commanding a good two or three feet of space ahead of her. Her feet, huge and barely visible, were nearly sucked in by her leg-fat, which was the same case for her paws. Thanks to her incredibly high weight, her legs were useless. At least until she created a floating chair that could hold her.

Her butt strained the capacity of her elevated sofa, taking up the whole thing and then some; she was practically stuck in it. Her quintuple chins jiggled with every chew and swallow of more snacks, and her football-sized cheeks nearly commanded her entire sight.


But Rootkit didn’t care, or even notice. All she wanted to do was play video games, and eat. And eat, and eat, and *eat*.