>Your bank account's diminishing and your wallet is going to be empty soon. The NEET life is soon going to have to come to an end, and you're going to have to fetch yourself some kind of crappy job to earn the video game money and paying the electricity bills for your shitposting needs
>You scan for job openings online, and considering your lack of skills, it could be difficult finding something that you could be hired for
>Suddenly, you find a listing for a job that you could be semi-decent at: a personal trainer for a company that supplies them.
>"Whatever pays the bills," you mutter to yourself. Thankfully you yourself are in a decent physical condition, and could probably help some fatties shed those pounds off. You shed your old pot belly a while back, how hard could having someone else do it be?
>After submitting your half-assed and embellished resume, much to your surprise, you're hired! You're handed over a slip of paper that details your client's status. You only hope they're not going to be too difficult to manage...
>NAME: Anon E. Moo (prefers to simply be called Anonymoo)
>GENDER: F
>AGE: Not given
>WEIGHT HISTORY: 294 lbs, has been steadily gaining weight recently
>WEIGHT GOAL: Not given
>HEALTH STATUS: Besides the standard size-related issues with obesity, alleged breast hypertrophy(?), unknown lactation-related disorder(?)
>Among other pointless details, a photo is attached, in black and white. All you see is some sort of zoomed-in question mark...did they even supply a photo?
>"They're mysterious, what with the lack of details and those strange disorders I've never heard of...but at least they're kind enough to give some contact information." the higher-up tells you. A phone number! 
>You decide to text this mysterious client about her new personal training regimen. An hour later, you're sent a message of gratitude, along with a place to meet up.
>Attached to the message is a picture of a park you're familiar with, thankfully. More specifically, it's a photo of a park bench you've jogged by on the occasion.
>You head back home and walk out with nothing but you, that paper, and your phone. Thoughts of who this client is flood your mind: have you met her before? Why does she choose to be so mysterious? Is her name some kind of pseudonym?
>Finally, you spot the bench. It's located by a small park fountain that contributes to the park's wonderful ambience. You lounge on the bench for a moment, imaging that she's going to come by soon.
>Doesn't seem like that, though. Over the park's atmosphere, you hear a subtle, peculiar noise that stands out to you.
>"Moo..."
>"What the..?" you tell yourself, questioning if you're hearing some sort of nearby bovine expressing themselves. Was it some kind of event going on in your town? Are cow festivals even a -
>"Moo!"
>The noise is coming from behind, but nothing's there besides some shrubbery and lofty trees...that's what you thought anyway, before you spot a bush rumbling with some massive green object behind it.
>To satiate your curiosity, you hop out of the park bench, and step through the grass, wading through the pond of undergrowth.
>But as you near, the image gets more and more obvious - it was a person, no doubt, or at least some kind of humanoid. A few steps more and the image is clear.
>Beneath you was a quivering female that stared at a phone with great intensity. You couldn't get an ideal view of the image on her phone, but what was more significant was her size.
>That paper didn't lie - if this was the "Anonymoo" you were looking for, 294 lbs was not an unreasonable measurement to describe the chubby mass you were gazing at. Her upper body was clothed in a white tank top with mulch scattered upon it. It did a terrible job at covering the rest of her girth - her bare, green gut pancaked itself upon the ground
>This was nothing compared to her breasts, though. At this moment, you realized what the hell "breast hypertrophy" is supposed to be - massive, swollen mammaries. Even that XL tank top that she was wearing just barely managed to contain those massive things. Judging from their squished size on the ground, those milkjugs seemed to be as big as her head itself - maybe even bigger
>Stuck up prominently was a pair of heavily stretched out sweat pants, imprisoning such a gorgeous pair of buttocks with immensely wide hips that would make any perverted jogger stare for days on end. 
>From her buttcheeks were two chunky thighs that most likely chafe against each other with each step that cow would take. Even as she sat in a still position, you could swear that they were jiggling.
>All of this perverted viewing would soon come to an end as the cow's gaze on her phone twisted towards the sneakers you were wearing.
>With a surprising agility, the fat bovine girl twisted her body completely around and saw you standing above her. With this sudden burst of energy came the results - her breasts slammed against each other in her tank top, causing it to shuffle side to side. Her exposed belly jiggled about carelessly, and at their side was a sizable pair of love handles that...well, would function perfectly as handles for love-making considering their softness
>"M-mooooo!" she desperately cried out. You could see her "face" now - a question mark. The picture didn't lie, but in addition to that, two big floppy ears and a pair of small horns complimented it well. The color of her face was a mixture of a rose's bloom and its stem.
>Judging by her inability to express how she feels, she hastily scrambles towards her phone and scribbles a message out in some sort of sketchpad app.
>Even with her pudgy fingers upon a small phone screen, her handwriting is neat and tidy. "Are you my personal trainer?" the message asks.
>Your eyes battle over whether to look at her swollen breasts or her embarrassed, punctuated face, and your mouth is left agape watching this rotund woman make even the slightest movements, due to how much her body jiggles. 
>The situation grows more and more awkward, but you realize that your pay is on the line, here. You snap out of your perverted trance and scream out a stymied "y-yes!"
>"Moo!" the cow-woman replies, leaping off of the ground while she brushes away the mulch against her body. Along with her sizable proportions, this "Anonymoo" character towered over you in terms of height. She was a big girl, in many ways. 
>Once more she writes something on her phone - gosh, you can't keep your eyes off her - and on the screen is another short and simple message. "Sorry about that. I was scared."
>You tilt your head, wondering if that's all she has to say. Communicating with a practical mute would be difficult, so you decide that adapting her way of talking would be in your best interest. You pull out your own phone and type something into the messaging app - "Scared about what?" 
>The two of you are buried in your phones, quickly typing whatever comes to mind. 
>"People may see me like this..."
>"I know about your weight, Anonymoo. I'm your personal trainer, I'm here to help you."
>"Oh, thank you so much!" she replies with her sketchpad app.
>She tucks her phone inside her tank top, placed in between her breasts. Her jugs were so large, you could probably lose small objects within them. Afterwards, she spread her arms wide, and squeezed you as hard as you could. You're not sure if suffocating in a girl's colossal breasts was a blessing or a curse.
>"Moo~"
>It was time to begin, and you didn't know exactly how to get started. Maybe you should go to a place where people won't see a man jog alongside a humongous, green blimp of a person...if she was a person, anyway.
>You had a good idea where the both of you can work out in peace.