"Misty, hey. Yeah, I'm fine, just working out the kinks in this holo. I think I'm really close, although I hope it's not too experimental. Seriously, thank you so much. I couldn't do this without you. You're such a big part of my creative process." He leaned in and kissed her. He was never this effusive with praise; maybe he really was having a breakthrough. "A bigger part of it than you know. I have to check on something, could you hang out here for a moment? I'd like to run the basics of the scene past you, once I get it stable."
"Of course, boss. You sound excited, so I'm looking forward to it."
"Great. I'll be right back." He stood and walked out of the room, leaving Misty to wait.
She was used to waiting; without the simulated limitations placed on individuals with an organic basis, artificial entities like herself typically ended up with plenty of free time. She took a few moments to run a self-diagnostic, that odd sensation nagging at her, but the results came back clean. "Might as well get comfortable. The bed is quite nice; I wish we had something like this at home." She lay back on the pillows, feeling their softness give under her weight. Funny, her breasts seemed a bit too...wobbly. She looked down her body, and sure enough, she was carrying noticeably more up top than was her default. Misty sat back up, glanced around the room, and found what she expected: a fancy, full-length mirror. As she stood to walk over to it, she felt significantly more resistance to the movement, which was quite concerning. A perusal of herself in the mirror confirmed her suspicions; it wasn't just her breasts that were larger and softer, it was her entire frame.
Aha, the spoiled rich girl gambit. Now the room made sense. A classic plot, where she'd play a bored, wealthy young woman with nothing better to do with her money than indulge in fine meals. The participant would be a servant or friend or suitor, and the story would be a series of snapshots of her steadily growing from a pleasantly plump heiress into a gloriously round and fat monument to excess. Not exactly fresh and new, but Tom might be taking it in a unique direction, especially if the character had chosen easily-afforded mods to make gluttony an easier task. Commentary on wealth and the abundant resources of Cyberdream, wrapped up in a weight gain story, not bad.
Which left only one question: why was she visibly packing on several pounds a second right now? Maybe Tom was working on the script or the visuals, but that wouldn't affect her; she wasn't written as a holo character, she controlled her own image and fit it to the script. Why wasn't she in control now? Her breasts were round and heavy, larger than her head, while her belly had gone from its usual slim softness to plush rolls. She turned to better see her ass, and raised her eyebrows; she'd expected an hourglass figure, but not jiggling, rapidly swelling cheeks and broad hips that already measured further around than she was tall.
The look was certainly appealing, and Tom knew his audience, especially when it came to the visuals, but she wasn't actually running the scenario, and however these routines had triggered, he'd want her following the script when it came time to try it out. She issued a halt...to no effect. It felt like reaching out to grasp an object that should be solid, only for her hand to pass through it. Her image continued to plump, thighs and calves thickening, arms growing large and soft, even her face looking adorably round.
The artistry was truly impressive; even with a few hundred extra virtual pounds, her figure was maintaining a balance between the sense of weight that showed in every curve, and the slightly unrealistic smoothly rounded shape common to the genre. Her tummy was getting huge, the swell of her breasts resting atop it with visible heft, and her ass was absolutely massive in both a literal and figurative sense, but she retained an obvious curvaceous femininity and probably would even thousands of pounds further on.
While she could appreciate the look, her lack of control was very concerning. Could she at least make her own changes on top, maybe some more muscle to make moving less of a hassle? A quick attempt, and no. Her image modification routines had apparently been entirely routed into the holo. What had Tom said? "Once I get it stable," was that it? She felt a shiver that few constructed beings ever experienced: fear.
Misty made her way ponderously back to the bed, the bulk of her ass and thighs necessitating a swaying gait that set her steadily fattening tits to jiggling enough that her balance was threatened. An internal image scan informed her that she was stronger, but not nearly enough to make the weight easy to carry, merely bearable. Hopefully she just needed to wait it out; Tom had said he'd return soon, and he could fix this.
She sat on the edge of the bed, and immediately regretted it; the mattress was far too soft, and her weight sank deep into it while her knees stayed better supported by the frame. Her thick thighs pushed her belly upward, which in turn shoved her breasts into her chin. She stared downwards at the rising mounds of flesh that had betrayed her, then looked up at the door in exasperation. It remained shut. She raised her voice, hoping he'd hear her annoyance. "Boss, if you're not back in five, I'm going to smother you, and I promise you'll only like it a little."
She flopped backwards, relieving the discomfort of being folded into her own fat, and stared at the ceiling. At least the soft mattress served well here; her titanic ass pushed so far down she could lay comfortably. Of course, she could also hear the springs creaking as her growth continued unabated. Idly, she wondered how much weight he'd coded it to hold; snapping the bed frame was, of course, a stock plot element, usually a climactic one.
She attempted to squeeze her breasts up onto her chest, just to see how full they'd look when not spilling over her arms. Her success was limited, considering how soft and enormous they were, but it was enough to fill the entire lower half of her visual field with gloriously wobbling cleavage. Her belly rumbled even as it continued to rise and widen, a classic touch that made her bite her lip, a real hunger growing in her where the simulated one could not. Maybe she'd forgive Tom after all.
Misty's hands roamed over the expanse of her body, her skin smooth and pliant, tingling under her touch. She was programmed to be sensitive, no holo required to change that, but there was so much of her. She squeezed and groped her exceedingly lush tits, fingers reaching for thick nipples that were almost out of reach; her fingers roamed down her sides and over the soft hills of her belly, finding that the deep well of her navel felt shockingly intense to touch; by the time she reached her hips and thighs, the enormity of her ass was rhythmically rocking against the sheets, turning her on simply by virtue of the effort it took to shift it. Ripples ran along her body, mirrored by waves of pleasure shooting through her.
Her fingers found their way, not without some difficulty, between her thighs, and even here she was fat and round and plush, not to mention extremely wet. She knew she was getting loud, whimpering and moaning as she played with her continually fattening body, but she couldn't stop herself, even if there had been a reason to. As she got further into it, bouncing instinctively as she plunged her fingers deep into herself, the creaking of the bed grew louder, exactly as she expected. It's how she would have written it, her weight climbing higher and higher right alongside her pleasure, her body and the bed reaching their limits simultaneously. It was too perfect not to happen that way. The sharp snap and sudden drop sent a visible wave through her flesh, and she crested into an orgasm that wrung desperate cries from her throat.
When the rush of pleasure subsided, and after a long moment recovering her senses, Misty began to consider her options. As fun as that had been, she was definitely not comfortable on a bed that was collapsing on itself, she was probably too heavy to get out of the sunken part of the mattress she was in, and Tom was still entirely absent. If the holo had taken control of her image routines, and the one person who could set the misbehaving code straight had somehow gotten distracted, the only reasonable action was to take her code out of the system. She could wait for Tom just as well outside his creation. She hefted as much of her titanic tits toward her face as she could, kissed them goodbye, and sent her code towards the exit of the holosystem.
When her senses resumed functioning, she froze, and felt a terrified chill run through her that she didn't know her emotional processing was capable of. She wasn't in the familiar rundown apartment, she was back in the expensively decorated, comfortably sensual bedroom of the holo. Thomas wasn't there, but otherwise it looked exactly as it had when she'd first seen it. She was trapped.
At least Misty's image had also reset to her most default form. Full, round breasts that begged to be played with, a bouncing butt that felt wonderful when groped or slapped, a slim but soft tummy that she could run her hands across on their way to her achingly empty pussy, plump lips that needed to wrap around a thick cock...okay, there was definitely a new alteration happening. The holo was triggering her arousal subroutines with reckless abandon, simulating a libido pushed to entirely unrealistic levels.
She dropped onto the bed, feeling the satin rub against her skin as she relaxed into the cradling softness, and couldn't stop her hands from squeezing her breasts. She whimpered as the sensation flooded into her mind; her processing capacity was so taxed by artificial desire that she could think of little else. One hand slid inexorably downward, her body demanding that she find release and knowing that the most pleasure was to be found between her thighs. She careened over the edge seconds after her fingers found the sensitive nub that begged for attention, but it wasn't enough, she needed more. Again her fingers slipped inside of her, reaching for the sensitive clusters of nerves that drove the pitch of her cries still higher. She could tell that more was happening than a climax so strong it threatened to disable her consciousness temporarily, but she was so focused on how fantastic it felt that she didn't know precisely what.
