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Deep beneath the streets of Manhattan, in a darkened lab, two turtles stood hunched over a table. A small, rusty metal cylinder sat between them, giving off a faint green glow through the seams.

"So this is it?" Michelangelo asked in a hushed tone.

"Yep." Donatello replied, "A sample of the original mutagen. The stuff that turned us into who we are today."

Michelangelo reached out slowly, his eyes wide, and held it up to examine. It wasn't huge, maybe six inches long at most, and no thicker than a soda can, with rust-coated seams going down either side. One end had a thick metal piece attached, probably a cap of some sort. A phone number was written across the side, along with the words 'Property of the United States Army.'

"Hey! Be careful with that!" Donatello shouted, trying to snatch it from his brother's hands, "We don't know what could happen!"

"Don't worry," He replied, giving the canister a firm shake in front of him, the contents sloshing around, "These things were made by the military! They're built to-"

All of a sudden, the cap flew off, and a thick, greenish-brown liquid came arcing out through the air. Donatello squeezed his eyes shut just in time for the liquid to splatter across his body. Next to him Michelangelo cursed as the same happened to him. Just as he opened his eyes, he heard his brother yelp, followed by a thump, and he opened his eyes to find the party dude now sprawled across the floor, covered from head to toe in sludge.

"What is this stuff? It's not supposed to be brown!" He groaned, wiping the slime off his face. His hand, also coated in the stuff, only succeeded in smearing the mess across his face.

Michelangelo groaned, looking down across his splattered body. "It's been rusting away in the sewer for years, dude! What do you think?"

Donatello held back a gag as he gazed at his and his brother's messy bodies, then looked over at the bathroom door; That room was tiny, barely big enough for one person to wash up after performing experiments, let alone two people scrubbing mutagenic spunk off themselves. He had to make a choice. Seeing his brother on the ground, groaning as he turned on his side and began pushing himself up, he made it, and bolted off to the bathroom.

"Hey! Wait up, asshole!" Michelangelo shouted, but it was no use.

"Wait your turn!" Donatello shouted back, slamming the door and sliding the deadbolt into place. There were a few thumps as the other coated turtle tried to force his way in, but to no avail. He uttered a few more curses, before giving up and walking off. Donny didn't feel too bad; There were other bathrooms in the base, after all.

Looking down on himself, Donatello sighed. The areas caught in the splash zone were starting to tingle, no doubt a reaction to whatever disgusting stuff had gotten into the container over the years. This stuff was going to be a pain to get off. As he moved to the shower, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror and paused. Unless his eyes were deceiving him, his face looked puffier than normal. He raised a hand to his face, feeling it squish into his cheek. Donatello groaned. "Leave it to me to get an allergic reaction."

He took off his mask and looked at it; Totaled. Those stains would never come out. Too bad, but he had plenty more where it came from. He tossed it into the garbage, unbuckled his belt, and turned to the shower. He turned the hot knob all the way up, not bothering with the cold, and stepped into the shower.

Donatello hummed as the water washed over him. It felt like a weight had been removed from his shoulders, though the splatter still remained. He looked down at it and groaned. The water was splashing it, causing small brown rivulets to run down his body, but it was slow progress. Grabbing a bar of soap, he began to scrub a particularly large glob stuck to his chest.

It was slow going, but eventually, he began to wear it down. He had to push extremely hard, squishing into the meat of his pec - Wait, squish? Donatello glanced down and groaned. His pecs seemed slightly bigger than before, no doubt swollen from contact with the tainted chemical. His stomach, too, was feeling somewhat bloated, looking as if he's just eaten a particularly large meal.

Donatello opened his mouth to sigh, only to wince as his stomach twisted in pain. His hands grasped his belly, the soap dropping to the floor with a tiny thud. Rubbing his bloated stomach did nothing to stop the discomfort, as a sickening gurgle came from somewhere inside.

The discomfort was moving down now, feeling hot and puffy, and Donny realized what it was. He bent over to pick up the soap, and winced as a sour fart rumbled out of his ass. Whether it was a side effect of the chemicals, or just indigestion, he wasn't sure, but his lab was well stocked with cures for both. In the meantime, no matter which it was, he had to get the rest of the goo off.

Another fart blasted out as he stood up, his belly and moobs jiggling with the motion. They were bigger now; His abs had turned into a hefty paunch, hanging over his waistline, while his pecs now drooped, soft and flabby. A worried expression came over his face, and he let the soap drop once again to the bathtub floor as he began to explore his bloating body.

"This... Isn't gas," He groaned aloud, squeezing his moob in the palm of his hand. He could almost feel it growing... No, he could feel it growing! He stared down in horror as his former pecs inflated, growing saggy and round atop his slowly swelling belly. The goo had seemingly disappeared from his body, leaving behind only a few brown stains on his increasingly-obese torso.

"If- I just-" Donatello squatted to pick up the soap, squeezing his hole as tight as he possibly could. His belly quivered, a deep groan coming from deep within, and pressure began to grow against his anus. The soap was just inches away from his fingertips, but it may as well had been miles. Leaning forward a little bit, a tiny toot escaped his ass.

He blushed, rocking back to stem the flow, but it was too late. Donatello held his eyes shut as a fusillade of cannon-like farts blasted from his ass. The shock of the expulsion made him slip, grabbing the shower curtain as he crashed to his meaty backside. The curtain and rod both came crashing down, landing in a head atop the fattening turtle.

"This isn't happening, this isn't happening," He mumbled to himself, drowned out by the roar of farts and the hiss of the shower head. His mind raced as he struggled to piece together what was happening. The regular mutagen combined the victim's DNA with that of the last animal they'd been in contact with... This mutagen had been sucking in sewer water and who knows what else for years-

Donatello retched, barely able to keep his lunch down. He forced his thoughts away from that topic. The last thing he needed to do right now was panic. Whatever was in that chemical didn't bear thinking about. He just had to stay calm and collected, and he could figure out how to fix this. As the gas died down, he was able to focus and think.

Obviously, he'd absorbed it through the skin, like the regular old mutagen. He looked down; The brown stains were almost gone now, fading away and leaving nothing but the regular, smooth flesh of his undershell. Donny gulped. That wasn't a good sign. The exact locations of exposure would help exponentially... But even as he watched, the last of the brown disappeared, leaving his body as yellow as it ever was.

Still, there were cures he could try! He'd been working on an antidote that might help some of Shredder's former minions return to their former selves - But he'd have to move to get it!

He could feel his belly squishing against his legs beneath the curtain. He couldn't see them, but he could feel the flab slowly inching downward, halfway to his knees by this point. If he waited much longer, he wouldn't be able to move!

Donatello tore the curtain off, forcing his eyes away from his belly. Feeling was enough, he didn't want to_see_ the destruction of his body, too! Being a nerd, he was never particularly focused on it, not like the others, but he was still proud of what he'd accomplished from a lifetime of training. Inexorably, pound by pound, that body was fading away, and there was nothing he could do about it.

He clambered across the broken curtain and over the side of the tub. His thick thighs were beginning to impede his movement now. Letting his arms fall to his sides, he could feel his belly squishing out to the sides like a cask. A shiver crawled up his spine. He felt a sudden, burning desire to look down, but he resisted, casting his eyes upon his goal: The door.

He took a single long, ponderous step, and paused, catching sight of himself in the mirror. The ninja turtle's fit body had become a distant memory, replaced with layers of fat that wouldn't look out of place in one of his favorite pizza parlors. Turning sideways caused his entire body to jiggle, and gave him a perfect view of the damage. His belly stuck out over a foot from his body, hanging low enough to hide his crotch from view.

On the flipside, the fact that he _could_see his ass was worrying enough. The growing flab had pushed his shell up along his back. Where it once covered his ass entirely, it had shifted to just above his crack, giving the world a perfect view of the two domes. As wide as his shoulders and slightly rounded, there was no way he'd ever squeeze them into a pair of pants. With any luck, he wouldn't have to venture to the surface for supplies to cure his condition. He probably wouldn't fit through a manhole anyway...

"Jeez," He muttered, giving his love handles a squeeze, "I'm gonna be a blob..."

Strange, unsolicited thoughts drifted into Donny's head, and he gave his ass muscles a flex. He could feel the muscles moving, the result of never skipping leg day, but on the surface, all he saw was a slight jiggle, followed by a puff of gas. The smell hit him, causing the corners of his lips to turn up in a smile, before immediately dropping into a strong frown.

Deep beneath layers of flab, something was stirring. For a second, he wasn't sure what it was, but as he felt something stiff poking against his belly flab, he realized what it was.

"You're kidding," He groaned, lifting up his gut to have a look. Even so, his belly blocked his vision, and he was forced to turn to the mirror for a look. As soon as he caught a glimpse, a blush spread across his puffy cheeks.

His penis was semi-erect, with a fold of pubic fat squished atop the first few inches. A drop of pre rolled from the tip as it reached full mast, only four inches long, with the rest hidden away within his flabby crotch.

Donny held up his belly with one hand, the other reaching out to give his cock the attention it so desperately wanted, only to be blocked by his tremendous gut. His cock twitched, begging for attention, and he grunted as he tried to maneuver himself around his belly, wrapping one arm underneath his belly button to push it up, while the other slid around the the side, but it was no use. No matter how much he strained, the obese turtle's cock was out of reach. He'd have to get help, but from who? There was no one around... Except his brothers.

"God," He muttered, staring at his inaccessible cock in the mirror, "Why is this even turning me on?"

He had a couple ideas, none of them very appealing. The first was that, perhaps, he had a fat fetish. Living in New York, he'd had plenty of exposure to obese people, and it was only natural that he'd develop some sort of fetish. And as for the boner, well, he'd never considered himself gay, or even given the subject much thought, but the sight of his fat-choked cock was making him question that.

The second idea sent a chill down his spine. Maybe the mutagen was affecting his mind in some way?He couldn't reject the idea out of hand, no matter how much he wanted to. It had, after all, given human-level intelligence to four turtles, so mental effects weren't impossible. But how did a little bit of sewer water translate into 'fat, gay chubby chaser'?

Suddenly, there was a loud thump from outside the door. Donatello yelped, spinning around and stumbling back. His ass collided with the sink, knocking him off-balance and sending him crashing to the floor. Landing on his side, he grunted, laying there still for a minute as the noises continued outside. His heart pounded as he listened, wondering just what in the hell was going on out there. Some of it sounded like voices, but he couldn't make out a single word... Except one.

"Pizza,"

Donatello's stomach twisted, a deep groan emanating out. All thoughts of a cure vanished from his mind, replaced with a sudden realization of just how hungry he really was. Despite his size, he felt empty, like he hadn't eaten in a week, despite having lunch just a few hours ago. What had he eaten, anyways? He couldn't remember, but if the burning hole in his stomach was anything to go by, it hadn't been enough.

Grabbing the edge of the sink, he began to drag himself up. It was slow and ponderous work, his muscles burning, the porcelain creaking in protest against his weight, but his hunger drove him forward. Air hissed through gritted teeth, his body jiggled as, with a final heave, he tried to straighten his knees and stand upright. It was no use; His legs just wouldn't go all the way, leaving him in a slight squat, like a sumo wrestler. It didn't matter to him; It kept his knees from hurting, and that was good enough.

He stood there for a moment, leaning against the sink, wheezing from the exertion. His throat was raw, his muscles aching - But none of it compared to the painful pit in his stomach. He placed a hand on it and gave it a rub, pressing deep into his flab. Deep beneath, he could feel his cock twitch as dollops of pre leaking against the underside of his gut, but there was no time to deal with it right now.

The noises outside continued, seeming to increase in urgency the longer he stood there. Something heavy was impacting the door. Heavy and wet, if the wet smacking sounds were to be believed, along with groans and grunts in a voice he couldn't quite make out. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought he recognized it, but there was only one way to find out.

"Juh-Jus' a minute!" He shouted back, glancing in the mirror as he pushed himself off the sink. His face seemed a little fatter, an extra chin having formed to compliment his other two. He smiled weakly, trying to ignore how much he enjoyed the way his lips squished into his cheeks, then turned to the door. There would be plenty of time to... Admire himself later. Food came first.

His belt and bandana lay crumpled at his feet, but Donatello barely noticed them as he stepped over them, clearing the distance to the door in two heavy, stomping steps. Snapping the lock away, he swung open the door, only to immediately have the wind knocked out of him by a massive green blob.

Donny grunted as he impacted the wall, the ancient red bricks crumpling against the impact. His mouth dropped open reflexively, sucking down as much air as possible. He regretted it almost immediately, as something soft, warm, and greasy pressed against his lips, while something hard forced its way between them. His mouth was flooded with the taste of tomato sauce and cheese, which, despite the insanity of the situation, only made his hunger worse.

The blob moaned, and Donatello's mind ground to a halt. He recognized that voice. It was a lot clearer up close, though distorted by pounds of fat coating his throat and larynx. Opening his eyes, he saw a familiar pair of blue eyes staring back at him. Michelangelo!

Donatello groaned in half-hearted protest as his brother's tongue groped through his mouth, but there was nothing he could do. The other turtle was undoubtedly fatter by far, and judging from the taste on his tongue, there was a reason for that. He always kept a fridge full of pizza in the lab, for those late nights when a regular dinner was out of the question.

Emptying it to satisfy his hunger was clearly no longer an option, so instead, he sated himself with enjoying his brother's savory flavor. It didn't even seem that strange to him anymore, as memories flooded back to him. Admiring his brother's physique, his personality, his cheerful outlook on life... His boner throbbed against the underside of his belly, pre oozing down his legs in thick trails. Yes, he wanted this!

Finally, Michelangelo's lips pulled back, leaving the two incestuous turtles gasping for air. For a long moment, neither of them spoke, simply gazing into one another's eyes, breathing heavily. Then, Michelangelo let out a small, low belch, and spoke.

"I want you, bro," He wheezed, a wide smile spread across his sauce-splattered face, "I've always wanted you, and now, I've got you."

"W-what about the others?" Donatello asked, panting.

"Forget 'em," He replied, "Right now, it's just you and-"

Donatello didn't wait for him to finish, instead wrapping his arms around brother, now, lover's head, pressing their lips together for a deep kiss.

"Donny, there's..." Michelangelo blushed, averting his eyes from his brother's gaze, "There's something I've always wanted to do..."

"What is it?"

"I..." He mumbled, "I want you to sit on me. Right on my face."

Donatello blinked. His brother looked away, his blush growing even deeper as he began to mutter an apology, but Donny barely heard him. His cheeks were so big and red, they looked like apples! His mouth twitched, the corners turning up into a smile. He tried to stifle it, but it was too late - Donatello burst out laughing.

At the sight of his brother's downcast face, however, he paused, placing a hand on Michelangelo's bulbous cheek. "Mikey," He stammered between bursts of laughter, "I'd love that!"

"You... You would?"

"Hell yeah, bro!" Donatello said, "But I'm gonna need something to eat first."

"No problem!" Michelangelo waddled back, his ass squishing against the doorframe. Donny pressed his weight against him, and with a wet slurp, he was through. The massive sumo turtle took a slow, ponderous step away from the door, letting his slightly smaller brother step out into the lab.

There, on the lab table, was a stack of pizza boxes. Too many to count in an instant, but there had to be at least thirty, teetering several feet in the air. The aluminum table buckled slightly under their weight Donatello's stomach gave out a ravenous gurgle, and he turned questioningly to his brother.

Michelangelo rubbed the back of his neck nervously, smiling, "I figured you'd be hungry, so I kinda... Raided the kitchen."

Before his brother finished, Donatello already had crossed the room, ripped open a box, and taken a bite out of an unsliced pizza. His stomach burned with hunger; He'd eat cardboard if he had to, but the smell of cheese and pepperoni was far more appetizing.

In his excitement, Donny's belly smacked into the table, knocking the precarious stack off-balance and onto the floor. Letting out a panicked grunt, he finished the last few bites of his first pizza, licking the sauce stains from his fingertips, and knelt down to continue his meal. Bent over, his round, cushion-sized ass in the air proved a tempting target for his brother.

Michelangelo waddled over as fast as he could, falling to his knees and planting his face squarely between his brother's saggy, cellulite-dimpled ass cheeks. He inhaled deeply, savoring the musky smell. The sounds of gorging were stifled as Donatello's ass cheeks closed around his head, replaced with the gurgling and creaking of his brother's ever-expanding stomach.

Pepperoni and tomato sauce dripped down Donatello's chin, cheese settling in a pool between his moobs. Every bite seemed to make him slightly bigger, turning his body into a pool of flab, the likes of which were never before seen. He looked more like a green hill with a shell on top than a turtle, his belly spreading out beneath him like a mattress, with his grease-soaked breasts as pillows.

Bacon, jalapeno, pineapple, even anchovies slid down his throat without complaint; His tastebuds were on fire, all the flavors melting into one perfect, savory mix that he couldn't get enough of. Tossing an empty box to the side, he leaned forward to grab another pizza, when he felt a pressure in his gut, one he was growing quite familiar with, and a little fond of.

Donny's stomach had gone into overdrive, churning and groaning as it melted dough and pepperoni into hot, noxious gas. He grunted as a fart hissed out of his plump hole, right into his brother's lusty face. Michelangelo's eyes rolled back, and he let out a moan that almost sounded like words. Donatello didn't hear; Their meaning was stifled beneath a hundred kilograms of ass meat.

The noise made Donatello's asshole itch, and he pushed out a blast of gas to scratch it. Instead of silencing him, this only drove his seat to squirm and moan, pressing his face up against his fat pucker. Gas belched out of him like a factory smokestack, flooding his brother's lungs with his toxic stench. Michelangelo let out a fart of his own

In a less hunger-addled state, he might have paused to reflect on the impossibility of it all, but as it was, he was content to shove chunks of hot, doughy goodness down his throat. His cock twitched beneath his fat pad, but he didn't even have to try to know his arm would never reach around the green boulder of his gut. Instead, he rocked back and forth, rubbing his cock between layers of fat for stimulation.

He felt pent up, more than he had in years. Between the warm, squishy folds and the hair trigger of his cock, it didn't take long for him to cum. Donatello let out a crass belch as he came, painting the underside of his belly with cum. He sat there a moment, panting as his brother continued nudging his hole and accepting his windy offerings.

Rocking back one last time, hissing in air from the stimulation, Donny lost his balance and fell back. A loud, rank fart blasted out as he shifted from kneeling to fully sitting, burying Michelangelo beneath his mountainous body. The smaller turtle struggled for a moment, moaning and squirming, before falling limply unconscious.

A moment later, Donatello let out a yawn. He hadn't realize just how exhausted he was. The blobbish turtle leaned back and fell to the floor, freeing Michelangelo from his suffocating ass and sending everything in the lab shaking. The impact would be felt for blocks around, but he didn't care. The sumo turtle let out a snort, rolled onto his squishy side, and fell fast asleep.