A (very bottomheavy) adventuring party sets out to investigate.

The creaking of sturdy wooden cross-beams and a well-greased axle filled the silence of the caravan. Every bump on the road could be heard- though thankfully, only the worst of them could be felt. Part of that had to do with the fact that it was designed to carry heavy cargo and gold over long distances, intended to carry a merchant’s wares and profits wherever in this dangerous world they wanted to go.

“Is all this necessary? This job won’t take more than a day, and only pays so much."

There was also the fact that the wagon was loaded to capacity, albeit with adventurers rather than profitable cargo. Travelling in such luxury was an uncommon treat, especially given how much one could charge by the pound for comfortable, quick transport. Rates for nicer wagon convoys, with proper escorts, were exorbitant. Especially for an adventuring party and all their gear who could just be walking.

Especially when the wagon had creaked and groaned so loudly for the heavily-armored Astrid. It was a wonder the driver hadn’t reconsidered when Fadime caused the entire back end of the sturdy wagon to sink considerably under her weight.

If they’d paid for this wagon out of their own pocket, they’d make back less than a tenth of it.

“We’re not the ones paying for it. Apparently, some affluent kitsune from the Guild was willing to sponsor it.”

The answer failed to satisfy Olivia, but little ever softened the black-haired assassin’s ever-piercing, passively angry glare. “Sponsor it? She probably owns an entire caravan line, let alone one wagon.” The party’s assassin twirled one of her many knives about idly, unwilling to press the point any further. After all, free transport was free transport, and it wasn’t like the wagon hadn’t groaned under her wide hips and thick, heavy thighs just as much as it had for her comrades.

Despite the fact that her knives and poison vials weighed considerably less than Astrid’s incredibly dense armor or Julitta’s man-sized crossbow. Naturally, no one dared point out that particular fact, lest Olivia decide they’d make a better chair than companion and bury them under the source of all that extra weight.

Chairs didn’t tend to last very long for her, but then, that held true for each and every one of the adventurers currently putting the wagon’s suspension to the test.

“A shame we can’t ride like this all the time. There’s so much more room, and I can barely feel the road!”

Julitta’s enormous crossbow, yet another logistical nightmare for the group, leaned comfortably against the wagon-wall next to Julitta herself. Normally, the green-haired arbalist-herbalist have to sit atop it, or leave it in a separate caravan, due to its awkward size and shape. While it would still be impossible for her and Astrid to occupy the same side of the caravan, at least this one could reasonably contain everyone and their gear.

A stark contrast to Julitta’s straining top, which surely felt every bump in the road just as much as the wagon’s beleaguered suspension. From her navel to her shoulders, she wore nothing but a bikini top, the two triangles of fabric just barely held in place by tough, taut strings of fabric. Her thick, padded skirt and bandolier of specially-tipped arrows might have ensured her own huge butt felt nothing from the rocky road below, but it didn’t stop her immense, barely-restrained breasts from bouncing and jiggling freely.

“It’s definitely nicer than our usual… but isn’t it a little ironic? I mean, we’re going out to investigate a wagon disappearing along a trade route, and here we are riding in a trade caravan wagon.”

Astrid, across from Julitta, took up more than half of the wagon’s left seating.

While she was just as wide as any of the other girls, that had more to do with armor than build- each of her arms had enormous, overlapping spined plates each as big and heavy as a proper shield. From the shoulder to the armored glove, capped with spiked pauldrons and held together with a breastplate so thick that even spear-tips couldn’t breach it. This gave way to a bell-shaped skirt with lighter, but still considerable armoring, allowing her at least some freedom of movement on the battlefield. Even in the dim light of the caravan, magical wards woven into the armor itself glowed faintly, matching the golden-blonde of her fluffy twintails.

All that armor might have made her look somewhat unbalanced, if not for the fact that she was even wider and more bottomheavy than Olivia under that skirt, and flat as a board under the multiple inches of heavy metal armor she wore. Nothing could move her once she dug her heels in, and nothing could stop her from moving either- not even a ton of armor designed to protect against monsters four times her size.

“I’m just hoping the driver knows where to stop… I hate ambushes…”

Fadime spoke up, from what would have been the darkest and deepest corner of the wagon if she were not three times too large to fit herself within it. Although she carried with her nothing more than a satchel, a grimoire, and her staff, she took up even more room than the fully-armored Astrid and the extra-bottomheavy Olivia combined. Some of that was from the sheer fluffy pouf of her purple hair, matching the eerie glow of her eyes even in dim lighting.

The rest was sheer plump bulk.

Although Astrid was just barely the largest below the waist, Fadime made up for it in both balance, and standing more than a foot taller than any of her other companions. Robes that would have trailed far behind anyone else were nearly immodest on her immensely plush hourglass frame. Unlike Julitta, who threatened to spill out of her top at any second, Fadime’s enormous, weighty breasts moved more by her own breathing than due to the uneven road.

When one’s breasts are considerably larger than her head, every motion was magnified.

“I wouldn’t worry about that. I’m sure he knows exactly where to drop us off. I’d bet good money our kitsune benefactor has already lost a shipment or two on this route.”

Finally, there was the informal leader of the group, Asya. The team’s bespectacled founder, at first glance, looked no different from anyone else who had signed on with the Gold Ring Party- though despite having plush thighs, wide hips, and a huge ass that his loose robes did more to accentuate than hide, the black-haired Asya was male. Very male. Even though many mistook him as a pistil with his clothes on, few could make the same mistake when they came off. His enormous, heavy balls produced dense, gooey loads at the same rate as any Alpha, and his thick, imposing shaft could cast quite a considerable shadow over a girl’s face.

It was more than a little difficult to keep from doing just that in such tight proximity to his many beautiful companions, but that would come later. They could celebrate after the mission.

Their ride rolled to a stop, and a knock from the driver’s seat announced that they’d arrived. The poor wooden wagon was intensely grateful to have them debark, rising visibly.