XaiJu
James Duke
James Duke

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Prompt: Shego's Healthy Retirement Part 2

Tags: Extreme weight gain, sex, health issues, medium slob (belching, messy eating, sweat)

Part 1: https://www.patreon.com/posts/prompt-shegos-1-109916260

With this we finish Shego's tale! Hope it was a good send off!

--- Wash Cycle ---

Shego’s body spread out over the bariatric bed. Gray-green blubber found its way between the safety bars, warping their hard plastic. Her body was coddled by pillows and blankets, nursing the ailing body she rested in. The bed was propped up in order to help soothe her sleep apnea. Pillows big and small had been shoved behind her back to keep her up. Without the proper precautions, Shego would easily drown in her own blubber. Once they had been cute and fluffy, but the constant absorption of sweat and unbearable pressure from the growing woman had mashed them down. They were as soggy as the rest of the goth woman’s fat. The rare movements of the obese woman brought a chorus of squelches from her rolls, the mattress beneath her, and the pillows behind her. There was more noise than usual, as Kim was currently attempting to plump the depths of Shego’s fat thighs. 

“Try. . .aaahhh. . .jusscht. . .a little. . .harder. . .Kimmie.” Weight and compounding health issues had stolen none of Shego’s sass. Her gut was lifted via a belt and crane, allowing Kim a little more access to the sweetness buried deep. Yet, even with most of the girthy gut-curtain restrained, Kim struggled to reach the hidden treasures. The thin woman thrust her hand between the walls of thigh fat, her breasts tickling Shego’s round and plump feet. Blood pressure compounded with obesity to make the former villian’s feet look like small balloons. The toes were hardly able to flex as Kim’s chest tickled them. “Agggh. . .I’ll passcch out. . .uuuggh. . .before you. . .find it.” Shego complained, balling her fists. Her heart monitor had been stealthily creeping up as the sexual exercise had gone on. Shego was on a timer. The anticipation of sex alone was enough to push her into cardiac drama, though at a slower rate than actually having sex. Climaxing into unconsciousness was always the more preferred option. 

“Because you make it so easy.” Kim blew hair out of her face and continued to toy around in Shgeo’s puffy nether region. Her lover had become so obese that it was hard to tell what she was even playing with. Everything was puffy and moist. The only way to discern if she had struck carnal gold was to track Shego’s reactions. Sass meant she had more work to do, gasping and pained silences meant that she had found her mark. Kim put her shoulder into the lifted wall of belly blubber. Kim met with expected resistance, the gooey wall pushing back. For as much as Shego wanted unending pleasure, her body sought to deny it at every turn. Kim’s round butt flexed as she strained her legs. She was a mote of dust compared to her girlfriend’s smallest part. Since she moved in, Shego had exploded in size. With her worries taken away, she could indulge her most base and sick passions. Whatever trouble sprang from the greed and sloth were problems for other people to worry about.

“Aaaggh. . .wanna. . .get thisccch done. . .before my heart. . .aaauuggh. . .gives out?” Shego wheezed the saucy question out. Stress was pumped through her tight ventricles, choking blood flow. She worked to move a swollen hand up to her chest but gave up quickly. Rather, she splayed her heavy arms and waited for either the thrill of sex or cardiac arrest to take her. Shego’s arms were built like old couch cushions that had long lost their form. The soggy stuffing flopped down onto her breasts, which were folded under her arms. Shego’s curves had built until they had collapsed under their own size and weight. Her breasts sagged outwards, defying the laws of physics and gravity. Her butt did similarly, flooding the mattress underneath her with dimpled and cellulite riddled mass. Shego’s butt was a confused and ever shift mass split between two enormous boulders. “Kiiiim. . .BBBBLEEERRRUUUOOP. . .I’m sscccho. . .hoooorny.” Shego’s personality crumbled as the weight of her desires bore down. Wit was washed away in a torrent of wanton lust over her unhealthy mass being fondled intimately. “Hurry. . .it. . .up!” she spat from a bottom lip that was so fat it had begun to fall onto her chins. 

“Ok, ok!” Kim stopped abruptly. She withdrew her hand and straightened. She backed out from under the cave created by Shego’s immense stomach. Her hair drug along the bottom of Shego’s belly, trapped by the build up of sweat and grease. “We can do this expediently.” Kim said before giving a long lick to Shego’s underbelly. The heart rate monitor burst into cacophonous noise as Shego felt Kim’s mouth and tongue upon her belly. The bed shook, the immobile woman shifting from ticklishness and heart pain. Kim smiled, knowing it was only about to get worse for Shego. She would get her sexual fulfillment, though it would strain her heart beyond belief. She left the belly cave and walked around to the head of the bed. One hand twisted Shego’s greasy locks of hair whilst the other messed with a control console.

The control console had once been meant for Shego to use. Bed controls, call button, as well as other buttons for administering various medicines had been installed. That, however, had been before her surging growth had occurred. Shego had long outgrown its use though. Kim had not let the console go to waste, however. Calling in a few favors, she had installed new functionality secretly whilst Shego had struggled through a diabetic coma. Now was the time to bring at least one of the new buttons into use. “I think you’ll like this.” Kim said, kissing the top of Shego’s head. Her mouth tasted salt and grease. Shego refused baths as much as she did proper medical care at times. The unwashed behemoth preferred to use her time for eating and fucking. She was once more about to get her wish. “Let’s see how long you can last.” Kim playfully hit a button, turning on a motor below the bed. 

The motor chugged to life, spinning up and beginning to shake the bed. Shego was thrown back and forth as the quiet motor sprung to life. “Coooongrattsccch. . .Kimmie. . .I’m laundry. . .now.” Shego looked over, her eyes dull with annoyance. Even more unbalanced than before, her heavy hands made feeble attempts to grab onto something firm. She was denied this safety, fat covering anything that might be useful to her. “Issscch. ..thisscch. . .intended?” Shego’s chins bounced up and down, the largest threatening to fold up and hit her in the face. She groaned, sexual excitement stolen away. However, despite Shego’s complaints, the motor continued to chug. Second by second, the little turbine spun faster. Kim kept her hand on Shego’s chest, feeling the erratic heartbeat picking up its pace. 

“Good things come to those who wait.” Kim slapped Shego’s back. The motor was turning faster now. Rather than janky shaking, the bed was starting to hum. The engine started to pulse, seeding deeper currents in with the constant hum. Kim watched as Shego started to register the change. In short order her face went from frustration to surprise to dazed pleasure. Her jaw hung slack, drool leaking out as her sensitive pussy was stimulated. Her entire bed had been converted into the most intense vibrator. Sensation sung through her folds, humming up from her gigantic but to even tickle her chins. The vibrations were so vigorous that sweat and grease long trapped within her folds came rushing out. Shego seeped with corruption and glee. She fell back onto the bed, strength sapped by the onrushing climax. Her fat shook and jiggled, lurching back and forth. Her fat moved like a lake with a storm hitting, non-existent winds threw currents through her fat. The blob gasped, eyes wide with shock. 

“Fuuuuck. . .aaaah. . .Kiiim. . .isscch. . .” Shego’s mind panicked as the ferocity of her orgasm came forth. She bit her lips and clenched her flabby fists. The pleasure was so intense, her thighs rubbed together, stimulating her aching sex more. Pounding and vibrating was her existence, overriding most of her other senses. The only thing she could feel in tandem with the physical ecstasy was the pain in her heart. The strangled, taxing feeling was building again. It was a familiar sensation, the pain of going too far too fast. Heart monitors blared, warning that medicine and other treatments should be dispensed. Shego let her fat face fall over, trying to get Kim’s attention. The brunette laughed, stroking Shego’s greasy hair. “Huuuaaauoop-aauuuccckkh. . .uuuaagggh!” Shego spoke in pitched gasps, words lost to her. Her fat seized as the cardiac anomaly set in. Stabs of pain filled the spaces between orgasmic waves, spikes thrusting between her mountainous breasts. She licked her lips, frothy spittle leaking out. The monitors were critical, warning of the imminent meltdown. 

“Such a baby. I thought you would have lasted longer.” Kim teased, hitting other buttons on the consoles. Medicines were administered, pumping into the tubing which led to Shego’s IVs. The thin plastic tubes ran out of her thick, spongy arms. They looked so much smaller compared to the bloated mess that they were injected into. For effect, the medicine had been colored a deeper blue. Shego could watch it drop into the fluid sack and then follow it through the IV. At this stage of health, it would only forestall the inevitable. Shego would have a heart attack, but she would at least be allowed to indulge her grotesque sexual practices further. The vibrating mattress continued to chug, running through the various routines it had been programmed with. It would change the source of the vibration along with the strength and cadence. At one moment it would be making hummingbird thrums between Shego’s thighs, then it would gracefully switch to heavy thumps just behind her ass. It was a simulation of sex for a woman that could on longer engage in the act directly. An imitation of something she had once been able to enjoy. “How long until this is too much for you?” 

Shego’s mass stiffened as Kim’s question penetrated her ear. Her heart skipped a beat, pressure shooting up. She had fallen far, but there was still plenty of distance to go. Medical miracles were being invented to keep her alive, to allow her to continue on the degrading quest she had started. Shego’s vision darkened, her heart shook in her chest. It seemed to be dislodged by the vibrating of her bed, thrown around to cause the most damage possible. “Uuuuuuurrruuu-aaahhhhaacck!” She gasped again, hand trying to rise feebly for any help. 

“Just a bit longer.” Kim winked at the immobile woman.  

--- Two Feeders Are Better Than One---

“Heeeey Girl!” Monique said as she met Kim outside of her house. “Long time no see!” the tan woman walked forward, spreading her arm. Monique still had her poofy long hair, which Kim’s arms found their way through quickly. The embrace was short lived, with Kim dragging Monique into the house quickly thereafter. “Woaah, whats the rush here?” Monique started to ask as she was brought into the Possible household. She went quiet quickly thereafter, finding the household a changed place. 

“I have a science project that I need to show you.” Kim looked back and winked. She pulled Monique through the remnants of her house. Any trace of domestic, small town Americana was destroyed. Instead, the two women walked through what looked like a hospital merging with a fastfood restaurant. Machines littered the rooms, their purpose only to be guessed at. Some were printing inscrutable medical readouts or resting blood samples. Others were fryers, sizzingling with grease and the food cooking within. Smells food mixed with sterilizing cleaners. Carpet had been ripped up and replaced with white tile to allow for the transportation of carts of medical supplies and feasts. The hallway grew more narrow and choked with clutter as she approached the final destination. A sweaty, humid atmosphere was growing. It felt like she was swimming the final few feet rather than walking. Amazingly, the smell of food and cleaning products only grew stronger. They reached the door and Kim threw it open. 

Monique blinked, trying to process what she was seeing. At the center of the room there was a mass of jiggling fat, tubing moving in time with it. Machines beeped and pulsed. Fluids ran through the tubes into the greenish fat, their purpose she could only guess at. A deep wheezing filled the air, with the hum of cooling fans behind it. For all the temperature control within the room, Monique still felt a sickly heat pulsing from the center mass of fat. Rolls and hanging deposits flapped in the breeze of the fan. Puddles of sweat and grease formed under the ruined, crumpled forms of two bariatric beds. The pile of fat, Monique was only now starting to process it as a human being, was slanted to the side due to one of the beds being in worse condition. A shudder passed through the fat followed by a terrific and disgusting belch.”HEEERRULLUURURRUUUP-EESSSRRSSCCCHH” The belch ended in a tired wheezed, the lungs too weak to finish what had begun. A breast fat enough to reach the floor slid off the mound. The entire body shifted, fat parting enough that a face might be seen. 

“Kim. . .is that. . .Shego?” Monique asked, hands reaching behind her for support. Her fingers felt something wet and warm. She looked behind, finding a tray full of food sourced from Beuno Nacho. Cheese decorated her fingers almost as much as it did the former villain’s face. Monique studied her friend’s old rival, not sure what to feel. “What happened to her?” 

“BbbbbleeerrrLLLUUUUPP. . .good. . .uuUURRRGGGH. . .retireeement. . .happensccch.” Shego wheezed, her mind more active than her body would allow. Her fat rumbled as she spoke, shaken loose by the bleches and rumbles of hunger. She had been smelling the food for minutes now, her appetite awakening. Shego was more than ready to perform for Kim’s friend. 

“Call it a new program!” Kim flipped over to her lover. She slapped a hand on a buttcheek big enough to fill the back bench of an SUV. She squeezed and shook it, draining sweat and oil onto the floor. Shego rumbled what might have been erotic pleasure or the beginnings of pain. One of her medical machines made a watery hiss and started to pump again, depositing some medication to help stabilize the blob. “Villain containment. . .with a little fun.” Kim was all over Shego’s face. She massaged deflated basketball cheeks, pushing and slapping life into them. Shego sniffed, sucking air into her nasal plugs. Double oxygen pumps coughed to life, sending clean air into a system too filthy to handle it. The room shook as Shego’s other breast slapped down onto the floor, breaking the holster it had been in. Kim gave a final slap of some anonymous, nondescript roll and turned back to her friend. “What do you think?”

“Uuuuh. . .how about this, like, the most unethical thing ever?” Monique crossed her arms and tilted her head. The scene was so surreal that she almost couldn’t react. “Like, how could you do this to a person?” 

“She did ask for it.” Kim said. Shego belched in agreement, her ability to speak stolen by the impending collapse of her chest. The excitement of her breasts breaking their bonds had pushed her pulse and blood pressure towards the red zone. It would take minutes and gallons of medicine to calm her again. A weak but guttural groan burst out of her fat lips, sending spittle flying. “Trust me, she likes being a guinea pig.” Kim hugged the messy woman, toying with hair that had largely become lost in rolls. The beds cracked, bringing Shego another couple inches toward the floor. Alerts beeped and roared. Shego started gasping, the shock of the small fall making her heart stutter. “Ooops. . .have to treat this!” Kim started to move, running past Monique to push a cart of faux-Mexican fast food towards Shego. With skill and practice, Kim lifted a rolled carpet’s worth of fat and slopped it onto the cart. She hoisted a burrito bigger than her head in two hands. Just before feeding it to Shego, Kim turned to Monique. “Want to help?” She asked, winking.

“How in the world is that going to help?” Monique crossed her arms. 

“Easy! At this stage, it’s easier to play her issues against each other.” Kim lectured, seemingly ignorant of Shego’s coming heart attack. “Trigger a diabetic coma to slow her heart and avoid cardiac arrest.” Kim’s sure tone and history with Monique worked more than they should have to convince the tan woman. “Sort of a radical theory I’ve been testing. No big deal.” Kim tossed her hair over one shoulder as if she was describing a new fashion.

“Uuh. . .yeah. . .sure.” Monique was drawn in, unable to turn away or extricate herself from what was happening. She approached Kim, hands shaking. Shego’s bulk was so much bigger when she drew closer. Heat poured off of the ill woman. Jiggles and undulations fought each other, her body constantly moving despite lacking any mobility. Monique saw pathetically fat fingers being slowly sucked in by advancing arm fat. Shego had been colonized first by her gluttony and then by inescapable fat. Monique took the burrito, meat garbage within spilling onto the floor. She had to stand on her tiptoes, shakily offering to the behemoth. Shego opened her mouth, cheeks pushing her head back under a back roll. 

What Shego did to the burrito was hard to call eating. It was a nasty suckling with small bouts of chewing. She drained the contents, pulling the soggy tortilla into her mouth. Cheese sauce splattered outward, dotting Kim and Monique’s formerly clean clothing. Monique shrugged back, afraid of what she was partaking in. Truly, she felt fear and something else but could not mention what the other feeling was. It was the kind of fear that provoked further investigation. She watched as Shego’s mass sucked the limp tortilla into her mouth. She squelched and slurped the food, the rolls around her face mimicking the sounds. Monique tried to wipe her hands off, but they stayed plastered just between her thighs. That is, until Kim handed her a plate of tacos. “Keep going, we have to work quickly.” The other woman said. Monique nodded. She took one of the shells in a hand and offered it to Shego. 

“Ooooomgghp. . .BBLUURRSSSS-PLUUUURRRT. . .iisscch good.” Shego imitated speech as she ate. Her belches were throaty but disgusting, like a balloon running out of air. She ate sloppily, smearing food across her face and the hands of her attendants more than eating it. The carb rich meal was taking effect slowly, pumping her blood sugar ever upward. She grew dazed, moving on instinct rather than conscious thought. She felt the two women more than she saw them. Their slim curves pushed into her sodden mass. She could bury them ten times over, leaving no trace that they had ever existed. With the constant pour of calories, Shego would grow bigger still; assuming medicine and technology would sustain her growth. She opened her mouth wide, rumbling with satisfaction as food was shoved in. She could hardly close her mouth. Taco shells and fried tortillas crunched, spraying grease and cheese outward. A surprised gasp came from Monique followed by a laugh from both women. Shego showed off as much as her body would allow, swallowing the food and begging for more. 

“Jeeze, girl, you are a hog.” Monique adjusted to the feeding as she started to see the pained enjoyment coming from Shego. She poured a bowl of queso into the open maw. She stepped wide over a breast that was bigger than she was. Even without meaning to, Shego’s fat reached out for her. Monique accepted the invitations, leaning more and more. She accepted Shego’s sweat and grease, along with the splatterings from the feeding. Delirium built within her, nervous and sexually tinged. The fear was morphing into something else. She could not stop from touching the immobile henchwoman. Monique gyrated her hips against Shego’s dangling breast and then against her other sagging rolls. The blob slurped at the thick flood of cheese, indescribable noises coming from her. The cheese refused to set, too infused with sweat to hearden. Each course left Shego a bigger mess than before. “Eat more, Piggy!” Monique said as she immersed herself in the living swamp. 

“Oooooouuurrruuuuuuup. . .bbbbluuurrruuup.” Shego belched, her system starting to slow. The carbs from the tortillas and chips were beginning to digest, releasing sugars into her body. This was only compounded by Kim shoving a bottle of soda into her mouth. She chugged the sugar enhanced soda, feeling it churn with the other food. The sugar dispersed quickly, Shego’s beleaguered system weak to its ravaging effects. She felt dizzy, the room spinning even as she continued to chug. The world began to slow, her brain slowing. Kim was proved shockingly correct as the incoming diabetic shock started to lower Shego’s heart rate. Slowly, the blubbery behemoth was lulled towards a forced slumber. Shego turned even more slugdey than before, the vast swathes of her bulk poured over the sides of the double bed. Another creak saw the beds crashing down onto the floor fully. Shego’s body trembled, but her heart rate continued to drop. Diabetes had once again conquered the cardiac arrest. The infirm woman could slumber and sleep off the sugar, with gallons of medication to help nurse her back into consciousness. 

“Another crisis averted.” Kim pulled the bottle from Shego’s lips. It was decorated with the big woman’s sloppy spittle, which was even fruitier and full of sugar than the soda. Shego’s fat seeped over the ruined bed, crushing whatever was still standing. Her IVs swung like vines in a jungle storm, sweaty mist collecting over their tubing. Now finally lowered enough to be played with, Kim returned to squishing Shego’s cheeks. “I think the theory works. To wake her up, I just have to start triggering another heart attack.” It was a strange and horrifying cosmic game, but one that Shego had begged for.

“Amazing. . .and sick.” Monique walked over and put her back into Shego. She rested on her like a person might on the side of a bounce castle. She put her hands into a nebulous fold as far in as they would go. Shego shifted in her diabetic slumber. Monique read the motion as acceptance. “I want in.” She tossed the words to Kim. “You’re going to need a lot of work keeping her growing.” 

“I thought you would never ask!” Kim excitedly approved the request, joining Monique on the side of the blobbish henchwoman.

   

 --- Hospital Sponsor ---

Monique made her way towards the Centerville hospital. Rather, she walked toward the gigantic tent which had been erected next to it. The tent was white, like one that might be used for a circus. However, it had been garishly decorated with logos from Bueno Nacho. Steam from many cooking implements came out of the flaps of the tent. The surrounding parking lot smelled like the inside of a fryer. Monique sucked the tainted air in, smelling what lay beneath. The smell of sweat and human grease was also thick in the air. She exhaled, feeling her stomach jiggle a bit. Her steps picked up making her butt wobble. The only thing keeping her from breaking into a full run was the tightness of her pants against her butt. It would not take much to burst the scrubs from her generous rear.

Kim met the plump woman at the tent’s entrance, stepping outside with a plate of wrapped burritos. “Hey, chubby, finally made it!” The greeting was matched by a swift slap on the ass. Monique felt the jiggles spread from the point of impact. They made their slow way across her succulent rump, showing what months of indulgence had done. “Better be careful, you’re going to end up sharing a room with the patient.” Kim nodded through the tent flap. As if on cue, a disgustingly low and wet belch sounded from within. The temperature and humidity in and around the tent rose drastically. “Even if she could use a little bit of company.” Kim teased, her hand coming around Monique’s ass. 

“Hah! You wish!” Monique danced away, her plump butt jiggling the whole time. She trotted into the tent, leading a very curious Kim with her. “I’m just surrounded by temptation. Working long hours, surrounded by the stink of Beuno Nacho. . .” The dark depths of the tent held vast arrays of medical equipment and food. Fry cooks and doctors worked side by side. It was a hive of activity. The constant activity of the workers contrasted greatly with the person it was meant to serve. Shego, more so than any time previously, had an abysmal energy level. “Mmghmmhph. . .I wasscch. . .mmghph. . .bound to put on a few.” Monique was casual as she pulled a soggy burrito from a passing cart. She ate it messily, taking inspiration from the icon of unhealthiness that she has devoted her life to. The cart continued off into the half darkness, rushing towards the freight elevator. Kim and Monique continued towards the personnel elevator. Both would lead to the same place: Shego’s mouth. 

“I’m just checking.” Kim again reached for Monique’s bulbous posterior. “I wasn’t sure if I was going to need to make preparations for a second patient.” She fumbled a couple times, but her hand hit its mark as they stood in the elevator. She squeezed and molded the large cheek against her palm, investigating the buttery surface. Monique was picking up weight at a rapid pace. Her body had greedily accepted the little offerings and stolen food. Kim felt warmth and perspiration, promises of what had happened with Shego’s body when she had first embarked on her retirement bucket list. “I wouldn’t mind.” 

“Pffff, you’re just as greedy as she is.” Monique stared out across the landscape. Shego rose a story above the pavement of the hospital parking lot. She filled the back half of the tent, a one woman circus. Green rolls poured out, seething with movements. Cables of all sizes and shapes spiderwebbed off of her. In the dark of the tent, spotlights were shown down in key places for workers. There was an endless series of scuttling people across the green woman’s fat. Both Kim and Monique were drawn into the shifting hills of fat. Now approaching house sized, Shego’s smallest jiggles shook the ground around her. She created small but seismic activity with her belches alone. Those closest to the blob often wore ear protection.

The elevator came to a halt and the two stepped out. They walked upon Shego’s soggy fat, stepping over rivers of perspiration. Scaffolding had been built directly onto her bulk, providing some form for the gelatinous mass. Yet, evergrowing as she was, Shego was slowly wearing the makeshift structure down. Above her piping twisted and churned with liquid contents. Some of the pipes were medicinal in nature, having to be big enough to dose Shego. The medicines pumped into her were administered in theoretical quantities. The doctors had no real way to know what was necessary for her hourly heart attacks or waves of diabetic shock. It was a grizzly game of tug of war with fate. The other pipes dispersed more fun things. Kim and Monqiue looked up as one of the pipes belched out a meal. 

Bueno Nacho slop was pushed out through the tube, splattering into the approximate area of Shego’s face. The thundering slap of gallons of cheese, meat, sour cream, and tortilla’s filled the air. Sewage pipes did their job with more dignity. Shego had requested them be made like this, she wanted to feel dirty and unclean. The pouring sounds continued, the force shaking the upper reaches of the blob’s shoulders. It was only decades of acrobatics training that kept Kim from falling over. She had to help Monique, whose fat was causing her to stumble. The pair walked across towards the building lake of food. It pumped out only slightly faster than it was eaten. The flood stopped and all they could hear was the sound of sloppy eating.

At the center of a depression rested Shego’s face. Cheeks as big as cars and chins that could be used as tents of their own flapped as she ate. It was wild, the only movement she could still do. Her fingers and hands were long buried, but her mouth and tongue could function far better. She slurped down the thick and oily cheese. She had eaten nothing but fast food for months, the final insult to a body that had once been in the top percent of humanity. “SSSSCCCHLLLUUURRUUPP-BEEERRWWWERRRLLUUUURUUP. . .uuuurrrgggh. . .mooooorrre!” Shego moaned as the food was drained down. Her body was confused, unsure whether to strike her with a heart attack or a coma. The only constant for her was unending hunger. She belched again, louder than thunder. Her face rolled back, cheeks bouncing and sloshing wildly. Physics seemed not to apply to the movement of her facial fat. She panted, nose covered by oxygen tubes. The world grew dizzy and she slumped into sleep. Shego had been awake for an hour, just long enough to suck down food and fall back into endless slumber. 

“You sure you don’t want to join her?” Kim asked from the top of the depression. She felt the defibrillator paddles being lowered. Towering sheets of metal, almost able to be classified as weapons of war for the charge they put out. They swung down from chains, already starting to crackle with energy. They would breathe life once more into Shego, massaging her enlarged heart back into functionality. The defibrillation was carried out with clocklike regularity, almost at the top of every hour. Kim watched the paddles getting positioned. She had little to fear from the shock. Shego’s buoyant fat would absorb most anything. “Looks like fun.” She turned back to Monique and smiled.   

--- Fin. . .for now ;) ---

Comments

Isn't that the truth 😍. Glad that you enjoyed part 1 and 2!

James Duke

And of course, 3’s a better group then two ;)

PrivateXimmy

I can see why so many wanted a sequel to part 1, the combative chemistry of the two leads is really great!

PrivateXimmy


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