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Sumo Ranger Red: Ashley's Tale

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Ashley Rodwell pursed her ruby red coated lips together into a tight frown as she shifted almost 300 pounds of mass, primarily her wide hips and prominent plaid skirt covered backside, against the tight constraints of her buss seat. Her dark eyebrows narrowed in annoyance as her blue eyes stared down at her aged copy of the The Hound of the Baskervilles by Arthur Conan Doyle held firm against her jutting, confined stomach to keep her book mark in place.

She had only been in Point City a little over a month, working at a company that her parents had pulled some strings to get her into after college. At first, Ashley had been disappointed by the smallness of the seating throughout the Point City Metro, having set her expectations up with its fat-friendly ads per the political promises of the city’s current mayor who had run on a pro pulse sized platform a number of years prior.

Ashley quickly learned however, that her family’s infamous voluptuous, bottom-heavy body had put even the plus-sized crowd to shame in that regard. Her proudly prominent pear-shaped figure would continue to scrape and wedge into inadequate sized seating for most, if not all, of her natural life. Such was the ‘curse’ of being a woman of the Rodwell family and it was a curse that Ashley had long since accepted and grown used to as she had grown up and out into a young woman of 25.

“Hey, big, black, and beautiful.”

A male voice oozing with a false self confidence made Ashley's instinctively shiver.
She looked up at the speaker in question with a disapproving pout of annoyance. Standing over her checkered cherry red plaid shirt and conservative darker plaid red skirt was a young... punk she decided. She assumed he was trying to single highhandedly bring back the Mohawk into fashion and and not at all succeeding in Ashley's view. Mr. Mowhawk leered at her with shades that looked as if they belonged on the set of a low budget cyberpunk movie then an actual person.

Ashley arched an eyebrow. “May I help you?” She wanted to add 'darling' out of habit but held back least this... fellow got the wrong idea.

“Well, way I see it a big old gal like you looks like you could use some company."

"Is that right?"

A good palm strike, Ashley thought. Would teach this ruffian some manners. Her broad shoulders tensed for a moment as her grip loosened slightly on her book. He wouldn't even see it coming... but that would hardly be fitting for a lady like myself, now would it?

The punk reached out, fingers positioned so that his index and pointer would act as ‘legs’ to ‘walk’ along Ashley’s shoulders as he toyed with a lock of her naturally wavy, long black hair.

"Hell yeah, babe. And the way I see it, I'm just the company you're looking for. if you’re not doing anything later on, we can come back to my place and-"

If her dark cinnamon brown complexion would have allow it, Ashley would have flushed red with outrage just then. This was not her first time being 'flirted' with but the sheer lack of decorum and frankly sexist attitude were skin crawling. Her skin, specifically.

With a swift strike from her free dark brown palm, she batted the incoming hand away, glaring at him with narrowed blue eyes as she frowned in powerful disapproval.

“I’ll pass, thank you very much.” Ashley’s tone chilled the air.

The punk glared at her, then smirked. “Fine, babe. Was just tryin' to be nice cuz of your size and all, you ungrateful cow-"

A sudden deceleration and jolting of the bus cut the punk off as he lurched to the side. Ashley seized her moment as she leaped up from her seat with a slight cork-like pop as her hips, butt, legs, and waist all let out a shared sigh of relief as they were freed from their tight prison- and swiftly made her way towards the front of the bus.

As she waddled forward with swift purpose, the deep breadth of her behind knocked into the punk with a graceful but well place bump from her skirt covered rear.

The punk felt the wind knocked out of him as the sudden jolting of the stopped car, combined with the causal force of Ashley’s extended butt, caused him to nearly fall on his own backside, which he prevented only by catching a pole at the last second.

All the punk from his almost seated position, his mind still dazed as to what the hell had just happened, was large shadow of the bottom-heavy woman who hastily carry herself out of the bus, deep, distinct rear swaying with each self-assured skirt covered step.

As the bus drove off behind her, Ashley smirked in slight satisfaction, before turning to her fire engine red purse. A few seconds later she turned up the volume on her smartphone and allowed the music of Louis Armstrong to wash over her ears as she began making her way through the dark, dank, maze-like streets that were Point City. She put her much read collector's edition copy of Hounds inside her purse.

After that incident on the bus, the magic of the Great Detective's brilliance had lost it's luster for the time being.

Waddling her way carefully down the seemingly empty streets, Ashley glanced around to make sure no one was around before inhaling a deep breath of Point City air, her amble cleavage and well-fed stomach rising in the process, so much that a roll of brown flab peaked out from between her plaid checkered shirt and red skirt. Glad to finally get some much needed proper air, she began speed-walking back to her one-room apartment, legs stiffened to an almost military march.

Her march was more of a hybrid between walking and waddling- really more waddling then anything with her 300 pounds- It was not the waddle of a slow, un-athletic slob, who was too weak and lazy to get their own food or leave their own bed. It was a Rodwell waddle, which meant certain solidarity and grace that a un-Rodwellian waddle simply lacked.

Having been in Point City for such a short amount of time, Ashley really didn’t have much in the way of friends as far as work was concerned. She was simply ‘the Ash Rod’ to them as she had heard through hushed workplace whispers. Some even called her 'Ass-ley' of which they won no points for originality from the young Rodwell woman. She had heard that one as early as middle school. But as standoffish as her co-workers were (and she to them, she mentally mused in a moment of reflection), the job paid enough for her to live on her own, which was what mattered in the end.

Passing a wall of advertisements on a brick building, Ashley caught the familiar sight of wanted ads for sumo stable members. Ashley hastened her walk past the fliers, trying her best to not let her high school and college memories of sumo come floating back to her. Though her sumo days were long past, she still secretly missed the feel of her red mawashi wrapped tightly around her hips and wedged comfortably between her butt cheeks and legs under her black short sleeved leotard.

With the sun setting into twilight, the skyscrapers that surrounded her began to cast tall, imposing shadows. In spite of her solidly build 300 pounds, Ashley winced as a sense of unease began growing deep within her. The buildings seemed to resemble the gravestones of giants to her eyes. Glancing at her analog watch in an effort to keep her mind off of the buildings around her, the wide waisted young woman frowned. By the time she got back to her apartment, the sun will have set.

“Wonderful." She muttered. "A young professional black woman wandering the streets at night Nothing bad ever happens to them.” Granted, in her reinforced heels she stood over six feet in height and with her extensive sumo background, Ashley felt she could take most any fool with a knife who would try to mug her, or worse if it came to that sort of thing. Despite all this, Ashley's Rodwell waddle soon picked up into a Rodwell jog as her heels echoed across cement sidewalk tiles.

Darkness soon fell and the street lights flickered on with their continuous of a low hum, the man-made crickets of urban life. Ashley rubbed her bare, thick arms and wished that she had worn something with longer sleeves that day. Being large made her resistant to the cold but she wasn't, despite what some of her co-workers may have thought, part bear.

"HELP!"

The voice was male, the tone a mix of fear and panic and came from a nearby alleyway. One of the nearby street lights’ intensified with a strange illumination and Ashley began to make out shapes and figures from the alleyway. Six clearly mechanical humanoid figures surrounded a young man with a Mohawk and face decked out in piercings and tattoos.

Is this the same young punk from the bus? Ashley thought in bewilderment. It can't be, can it? Though it's not my fault all uncultured knuckleheads looked the same... And what are those? People in robot costumes? This has to be the strangest mugging I've ever seen, and I've seen America's Top Mugger!

As the robot-looking beings slowly began to move in on the young street punk in a perfect circle, the punk turned his head and finally noticed Ashley from between the metal attackers.

"Please, Miss, you have to help me!"

Against every rational part of her mind, Ashley swallowed the lump in her throat, balled both of her large, lady-like hands into fists, and began making her way towards the alleyway. It was times like these that she was thankful that her genes had seen fit to give her the proper proportions that came with her 300 pounds of mass, tremendously thick thighs and powerful arms in addition to her bountiful backside, it made throwing said wait around (even when she was shaking like a pile of leaves internally with fear) all the more satisfying.

Another nearby streetlight intensified,  becoming almost like a spotlight on Ashley as she set her purse to the side and stormed her way into the alleyway to get a proper look at her foes. Sure enough, the six figures didn't just look like robots. They were robots. Tin or bronze casing reflected from the nearby streetlight with an unsettling shine to it.

Square shaped heads were attached to rectangular shoulders blades, which led to rectangular shaped arms and claw style pincers. In a way, really, they almost looked like something off of the set of an old black and white science fiction show. But the large unsettling red glowing singular eye in the middle of their otherwise featureless 'faces' spoke more of Kubrick than Outer Limits.

These aren't people in costumes. Ashley thought with an icy realization of dread. You didn't need to be Holmes, or Poirot, or even Shinichi Kudo of Detective Conan fame to realize that.

Despite her foes' strange design, Ashley frowned gravely. Metal vs. flesh and blood. There wasn’t much, after all, anybody could do against that.

What have I gotten myself into? Ashley thought as she shifted her legs and bent her knees into the only fighting stance she knew, a sumo stance.

She crouched down so low that her waist was nearly the ground. This, Ashley knew from past experiences, would give her better control of her center of gravity and her more prominent lower body parts. In a fight against robots gone awry (clearly whoever had made these things had never heard of the First Law Ashley thought with an ill expression), she knew she would need every advantage she could get. A person couldn’t be a sumo wrestler, even a former one like Ashley herself, without decent throwing and lifting strength after all.

For a moment, the six robots stared at the punk with cool machine indifference. Then, one of them looked up, as if they had just realized that another sack of meat was in their presence. The one that had first looked up was the first to make a move, lunging at the heavyset young woman with its rectangular metal arms lifted wide for a tackling move.

Ashley sidestepped to the left, massive rear-end brushing up against the edge of the alleyway wall, the machine’s charging tackle, as she sucked in her protruding stomach in for good measure. The machine missed her by half an inch and, before it could react, Ashley exhaled her stomach, causing the rounded stomach to bounce into the robot and knock it however slightly off balance. Not enough to send it coming down crashing like in the cartoons but that was never Ashley's intention.

Ashley slammed the robot with a one-two strike from the palms of her hands. Blocking out the stinging pain of pounding flesh on metal, Ashley continued her assault blow after blow until the robotic being fell to the concrete ground with the sound of clanging, ringing, scraping metal. Whatever they were made out of, it wasn't Titanium. Or even steel, for that matter? Tin, maybe?

Whatever they were, they could be dented and thus could be beaten.

One down… I hope.

With her heart pounding like thundering orchestra drums, Ashley turned her attention to the other machines. Her hands' palms were still sore and aching, Ashley blocked the pain. Survive first, pain later.

Ashley, to her credit, did her level best to keep her breathing under control as her eyes focused in on her remaining foes. She would not give into fear. Fear killed the mind and all that pretentious hogwash. She could fear after she and Mr. Mohawk had escaped with their lives. She glanced quickly to where Mr. Mohawk had been and realized that he was gone. Not that she blamed the man but a part of Ashley was still irked regardless.

With that two robots suddenly began to move towards her, their arms and pincers spread wide. If Ashley hadn't known any better, she would have thought the robots were almost sumo wrestlers given their stiff stances.

Now, Ashley thought. Now comes round two.

Working purely on her amateur sumo trained instinct, she reached out and snatched the nearest robot of the two at whatever the robot version of the hip or back knee cap were. Hands gripped as tightly as she could on the metallic waist she threw the robot (which was much lighter then Ashley had been expecting) into the other one, causing both to it with a reverberating clangor as sparks and wisps of flames spewed up into the air.

With a resounding thud, both crashed to the ground in a manner similar to the one she had taken out with her bountiful belly, eyes dimming into dull lifelessness.

Three down. Three to go. Just like the tournaments back in school. Only  I'm fighting robot. Other than that, just like my school tournaments.

In her mind's eye, Ashley was back at school- High school, college, it didn't matter. She was clad in her black leotard and crimson-colored mawashi uniform, the red having been at her personal request. Now, this back alley was her ring, these robots her opponents. She would win. She would survive.

The fourth robot rushed her as fast as its stiff whirling joints and clomping feet would allow it and Ashley charged to meet it, slamming her skirt covered gut at the robot as her hands and the pincers locked in a test of strength.

Organic muscles moved quicker than robotic joints as Ashley twisted her arms and wrists and lifted her artificial opponent off its feet. Heaving with as much strength as she could, Ashley tossed the fourth robot into five, slamming both into a nearby brick wall with a scraping, ear-splitting din. Like its brethren, the now bashed apart robots fell to the ground as sparks flew from cracked,  red eyes now dim.

Ashley let out a snort that would have done a warhorse proud. She almost wish there was an extra one, if tossing them into one another was all it would take to beat them. Now all that was left was the one robot. Just one more metal menace and you're home free, darling. Ashley thought.

Ashley locked her eyes in on her remaining robot foe.

Were this a Western, a tumbleweed would have rolled by just then. But because this was a reality, granted a reality where a 300 pound, a 25-year-old young woman who had dabbled in sumo wrestling in high school and college could apparently fight off robots with her bare hands and win, but a reality nevertheless, nary a tumbleweed passed by.

Much to her own surprise, Ashley found herself raising one of her still bent legs-the left one- and slammed it on the concrete ground. She did the same with her other leg while her arms were spread wide in an anticipating stance.

"COME AND GET ME, YOU ROBOTIC RUFFIAN!"

Stupid! Ashley cringed as she felt her now broken heels. Reinforced or not they could not withstand a proper sinko stomp. Why did I insist on a sumo stomp of all things? Now I only have a dozen pair left back at the apartment!

Kicking the destroyed shoes off of her feet for the time being (the fact that they had lasted this long was impressive in itself, Ashley thought as she winced as her long silk sock covered feet touched the dirty, foul alleyway ground beneath her), Ashley rushed at the robot with a renewed zeal for battle. Her plan was simple: lift the robots up by the armpits, then slam the robot onto the ground with all her might with a butt crushing for good measure. Simple, clean, effective.

The butt crush wasn't proper sumo but proper sumo didn't take place in American city alleyways against robots, so Ashley figured she was fair in taking a few personal liberties with her own style of sumo.

If this one was a surprisingly flimsy as the others (Ashley was starting to think they had been constructed in China or Russia), it would all be over shortly and she could move on with her life.

The world around her seemed to move in slow motion, she made a reach for the machine's pits but was shocked when it swiftly brought it's pincers up and connected with Ashley's own hands.

The pincers tightened. The pain shot through her nerves and intensified. Ashley bit her tongue in an effort to contain her scream of pain. Even if it was lost on the machine, she would NOT give some wind-up toy the satisfaction of hearing her scream.

Ashley held out her arms as she leaned forward on both her study thunder sized thighs in an attempt to break free or cause some sort of stress on the internal sensors of her robotic opponent. But in spite of all her efforts, the robot remained silent and still as a statue.

Distantly, as pain was starting to make her woozy, Ashley realized that if she was in an action film, all the low ranking minions had been bested, with left just the high ranking leader with the actual skill (even if the damn robot looked just the same as the others). Completely stupid in Ashley's view (she was a mystery fangirl thank you very much) but that seemed to be the genre she had wandered into, somehow.

The question was, could she survive out of this Twilight Zone mess with her life intact?

A remarkable swift metal knee to her stomach forced Ashley to finally open her mouth and gritted her teeth as she bellowed out a cry of pure pain.

The next thing she knew she was being swung through the air similar to how she had swung one of the robots from earlier. Fortunately or unfortunately, she only hit the wall with a resounding smack that caused her to cry out once more like the sharp explostion of pain went down through her entire spine.

As Ashley's bountiful bulk slumped down to the ground she could hear the robot moving towards her as she slowly began to blackout, no doubt soon about to finish her off.

I-Is this how I’m going to die? Killed by freaky-looking robot things in some back alley in the streets? Well, at least thugish fellow manged to escape, I suppose that's something... At least I get to go out a hero. If I must become yet another national murder statistic, that's not a bad way to go out, saving another person even someone as disagreeable as Mr. Mohawk.

Ashley-chan, Do you want to live?

Ashley blinked, face scrunched in pure confusion. A voice, a woman’s voice, had suddenly spoken up with otherworldly tones. Given her condition, Ashley wasn’t entirely sure her mind wasn't playing tricks on her in her death throes.

Let me elaborate: do you want to live and become a hero? Protecting others as you put your life on the live against a threat bigger than yourself?  

What sort of question is that?Of course I do! To both halves of your question!

Then... Do you accept my blessing to become the first of the Sumo Rangers?

Ashley’s mind was flooded with countless questions as she tried to hold onto the (very tiny) life preserver of rationality and consciousness. Who or what a Sumo Ranger was mattered little to Ashley Rodwell right then. The only thing that mattered was if this Sumo Ranger thing would allow her at least some sort of a chance to save herself.

If this my powers of SHAZAM moment, then of course I accept!

There was a distant rumble, a chuckle of womanly laughter.

Then take this, place your hands on the center of the mawashi belt, and say the words: Sumo Power, Expand.

Ashley blinked as she felt the blackness before her eyes start to fade. She glanced down and noticed that she had a new article of clothing that wrapped itself both over and under her skirt. A mawashi, a sumo belt, of all things was now tied tightly ground her hips, butt, and groin under and around her skirt. Given that skirts were not made for mawashi and vice versa the effect was just a little comical, considering the situation.

Ashley stared at the article of cloth in disbelief. And yet there was a strangely welcoming feeling about the belt after such a long absence. It felt... empowering, and not in the way she had always found sumo itself empowering since Ashley had discovered the sport at a young age on TV. Somehow just having the cloth around her figure made her feel... powerful, stronger, even.

The clanging noise of robotic steps brought Ashley back to the funhouse mirror that was her reality.

What were those words again? With the Robot only inches away from ending her, Ashley pressed her hands against the belt’s center and bellowed the words that would change the course of her life forever.

“Sumo Power, Expand!”

To the robot, it appeared as if its organic target was suddenly surrounded by a powerful glow of red light and when the light faded seconds later, in her place was an even more massive and even more staggering tall mammoth figure clad in dark red mawashi, with a full body spandex-like bodysuit underneath.

For the newly minted sumo warrior, the effect was even more instantaneous. One moment she had been seconds away from having the life beaten out of her by a robot, the next she upright and free of pain. And now she didn't just feel powerful. She was power incarnate.

She o raised her right leg, tearing the nearby brick wall to pieces with her grazing knee, remarkably Ashley felt no pain and slammed her now booted foot to the ground, and the concrete fissures into a small island of spider-webbed cracks that echoed throughout the alleyway. Her left leg followed the right with the same results as more brick debris came crashing down by accident following in her wake.

“I am…” Ashley circled her arms in the air and clapped her hands together like a powerful timpani drum. “The Red Sumo Ranger, Dosukoi!”

Blinking in befuddlement, Ashley’s confident heroic pose was broken as she noticed that a mask of some sort was covering her face, along with the rest of the change of wardrobe. She reached up and felt around. Judging by the texture and shape, the mask was luchador in style. The bodysuit spandex but if the now damaged walls were anything to go by, clearly not spandex in the least. How strange.

Ashley realized that not only had her wardrobe changed, but her body had as well.

Glancing down, the newly morphed Red Ranger felt her eyes go wide in shock.

“What in blue blazes happened to me?”

Though Ashley had always been a natural large woman (it came with the territory of being a Rodwell woman), especially the hips and below now she looked almost like a parody of herself. Despite her almost doubled sized, her new uniform stretched and conformed comfortably and perfectly to her body.

I... I must be nearly 500, no, 600 pounds now!

Turning her head around she saw her red-covered rear end had reached their true potential as covered spheres of firm, powerful looking cheeks of destruction. In short, the sort of thing that would have made Grandma Rodwell very proud.

Sumo Red noticed that her remaining robotic opponent still remained, its singular red eye intently staring at her.

White-gloved hands balled into fists, her ruby red lips twisted upward. Time to see if this new outfit of hers was as powerful as it made her feel!

Once more she crouched low to the ground, surprised and taken back by how easily the costume flowed with her joint movements. Even her newly expanded backside felt oddly comfortable strained in the spandex-like bodysuit and mawashi getup as she threw her posterior behind her head and planted her gloved knuckles onto the un-shattered parts of the alleyway ground as if she were just in a match against her mechanical foe and not in a fight for her life.

The robot did similar, albeit in a far stiffer manner.

Sumo Red spent no time in putting her new powers to the test; once more she charged at her foe, left elbow raised back. When she came within arm’s length, she shot her elbow forward like a piston, gloved palm wide open for a sumo style strike.

Spandex covered flesh met metal and for a moment, the metal chest of the robot resisted. Then it gave in, leaving an imprint of four fingers and a thumb indented in the chest.

The Red Sumo Ranger’s eyes widened, but only for a moment. She could be impressed with her strength later, right now she had a fight to win.

The first strike was followed up by a rapid succession of palm-based blows that hit with such speed as to seemingly glow red as the bending sound of denting metal reverberated throughout the alleyway.

Seconds shifted into moments, the Red Sumo Ranger’s large arms began to tire, aching and screaming as the all-out palm strike assault continued against the metal striking bag.

With labored breathing, the Sumo Ranger knew she had to finish the fight and soon.

Lunging forward, she snagged the robot up under its metal armpits, effortlessly lifting it in the air.

But the robot only remained held for a few seconds before the Sumo Ranger slammed its back into the ground, causing it to shake as cracks and bits of stone appeared in the concrete to fly up in small fissures. The Red Sumo Ranger glanced back to her behemoth of a backside with a small smirk.

Now, time to see what sort of damage this new superior posterior Rodwell rear of mine can do!

And with that the Sumo Ranger unceremoniously crashed her behind onto the fallen machine.

SCRANCH!

The crunching sound of metal being forever imprinted by two sphere-shaped butt cheeks echoed throughout the alley. As her breathing and heart rate began to slow back down to normal, Ashley (still transformed as Sumo Red) smiled contently as she absentmindedly twisted and wiggled her hips, further crushing and grinding the machine humanoid that had very nearly ended her life just minutes ago.

It was a childish thing to do, and something that Ashley would ordinarily had been too proper to do but these were hardly ordinary circumstances and as such, Ashley took her time in enjoying her robotic foe’s defeat beneath her mighty butt of justice, or whatever she'd wind up calling it, if anything.

“You have done well Ashley Miriam Rodwell.”

Looking around as her face began to blush at the thought of someone seeing her use her rear end in such an undignified manner, Ashley could see that the remains of all of her foes had vanished, and that in their place stood the largest non-Rodwell woman she had ever seen, floating in midair and glowing with a visibly white otherworldly aura.

Although it took her a few moments, Ashley saw that the woman was more than just large in a fat sort of way, she was largeness with a purpose. Her arms, legs, and center were thick and dense with fat, but it was not the soft squishy decadent sort of fat. Though large, the mysterious glowing woman lacked a single roll of excess flab on her. She and her thickness were as one. One giant muscle under a deceptive layer of fat.

Much to her surprise, Ashley found herself before kneeling on the ground with one knee (with a surprising level of dexterity and ease given her new expanded mass). It just seemed like the fitting sort of thing to do, really.

“Rise, Ashley Rodwell, first of the Sumo Rangers.” The woman paused, giving Ashley the chance to do so.

The Red Sumo Ranger did as commanded, the sold white eyes of her new mask glued to the ground as she rose her enlarged frame upwards. It didn’t take any particular sort of genius to know that one was in the presence of someone or something very important and very powerful. Someone, dare she say, actually supernatural in nature unlike the titular hounds that the Great Detective had tangled with back in the day.

“What-Who- Are you?”

“I am Yokozuna, the Goddess or spirit of Sumo Wrestling.” Once more, Yokozuna paused. As if to give her newly minted warrior time to process the strangeness of the situation.

Somehow, Ashley believed her. Granted, the 25 year old had never been the most spiritual person in the world but between the suit, the robots, her increased mass, and the simple fact that the woman was glowing snow white and floating in midair somehow the fact that this Yokozuna was an out and out deity just seemed to fit with the rest of the insanity around her.

Then, something occurred to the now 500 some pound young woman. “What happened to the rest of the robots?” she asked.

“I sent them away,” Yokozuna replied.

For a moment, Ashley's eyes widened under the mask. Then she narrowed them as her brown eyebrows underneath intensified into a hard glare.

“You were behind those... those things, then? Why?” The Red Sumo Ranger’s eyes were locked onto the deity as she put her hands on the hem of her red mawashi belt.

“To test your character, of course. You were never in any life threatening danger. You were willing to risk your life to save that of a stranger against an inhuman foe, a stranger that you had no reason to like since they resembled the look of a troublemaker. Not many would be so bold or so willing.”

Ashley felt her face heating up, cheeks flushing, in spite of herself as she glanced away again.

“I just did the right thing, nothing more. And those robots of yours weren’t that powerful except for the last one.” Ashley shrugged humbly.

Yokozuna shook her head.

“They were made in such a way to test you.  The ones you’ll be facing, should you chose to accept your new life as the Red Sumo Ranger; will be much stronger than that. You will not be able to win without transforming into the state you are now.  I see your potential Ashley, and you and the others that will follow you have the making of heroes.”

“Hence the costume?”

“It is more than just a costume. It is a manifestation of a fraction of my power reformed into what I personally see as a mighty example of heroism. The sensational Super Sentai. What do you think of it?”

Ashley remained silent as she looked at her new uniform properly. She had barely given it any thought in the heat of battle but now she turned her full attention to the bodysuit in question.


The fire engine red of her uniform went all the way down to her arms, stopping only at the forearms where seamless white gloves. The maroon mawashi had a white circle in the center of the belt where in thick, stylish black ink were the stylish letters SR. The redness of her legs, same shade as her arms, went all the way down and stopped just at her feet, which were sectioned off in white ‘boots’. They weren't individual, take them off your feet style boots but they had appearance of them, Ashley realized. Boot adjacent, she thought. Still stylish, though, she had to admit.

"I like it." Ashley said at last. “Simple, minimalist but streamlined and strong. It reminds me a bit of the Flash's uniform, actually. From National Comics.”

"Does it?" Yokozuna blinked. "I do not read American manga, the similarities are coincidence."


Sumo Red folded her powerfully massive arms under her firm, equally large breasts. Resting atop her mighty gut Ashley couldn't help but note that they thankfully lacked the overly cartoony water-balloon like jiggle that so many breasts in anime seemed to have. They were large, but they weren't complete caricatures of female anatomy. She liked that.

“Miss... Yokozuna-san. You mentioned a younger sister?”

Yokozuna nodded gravely. “Indeed. My younger sister, Ozeki. A kami that allowed her ambitions and envy to corrupt her spirit. I was left with little choice but to seal her away, but only temporarily. Now the seal is weakening and I do not have the power to fight her in pitched combat.”

Ashley frowned, a slightly skeptical look in her whited-out eyes. “Don’t suppose you have any proof of that?”

“Look to the moon.”

Turning her masked head upward, Ashley felt her eyes to widen a moment later. There up on the moon was a face, twisted with rage and frustration. A chill ran down the new supersized superhero's spine.

“There’s a face on the moon… That’s who you want me to fight?”

“You and your fellow four warriors that will join you in the coming months, yes. It will not be any easy task but if the trials of the Super Sentai, fictional as they might be, have taught me anything it is that the human spirit is capable of grand and glorious things. Naturally, I understand that this is a lot to take in-"

“Just-Answer me this. Is all of this-"

Ashley slapped the sides of her enlarged hips for emphasis. “Temporary? I ask because I have enough issues fitting into society as it is, literally.” Ashley remembered her subway train ride a short time prior and shuttered.

“It is. Is that your only objection? I should warn you, Ashley Miriam Rodwell, should you chose to accept your role as the Red Sumo Ranger or Sumo Red for short, you will give up any chance at a normal life as you currently know it.”

Ashley thought over Yokozuna’s offer. Seconds turned to minutes turned to moments. Images of her childhood came flooding back, images of her glued to the TV set as martial art using reptiles battled ninja thugs and space aliens, as heroic leaders with laser eye vision lead a team of letter based superheroes. You could keep your badger themed tough guys and your smart nerdy guys and your fun party goers.

For a young Ashley Rodwell, it was those stoic so-called ‘boring’ leaders that she had always admired the most. Their bravery in battle. Their dedication to their teams’ well-being. The strength of character it took to lead the others despite the odds.

And now, she had the chance to step up and join those hallowed ranks. To step up and become a Leader. Suddenly, a new thought occurred to her.

“If I do take you up on your offer, I won’t be heading back to the office anymore?”

“I will make arrangements to take care of your sudden leave so that no suspicion will be raised, should you accept my offer. And naturally, there is compensation.”

Ashley looked up at the towering kami with a look of surprise.

"Really?"

"Of course. I have been in this country of yours for over 30 years, Ashley-chan. I know that money is a sadly important necessity and I can hardly ask five complete strangers to risk their lives without some way to navigate their society financially. The money, of course will be given out as a strict allowance. As for the corruption of greed, that I was something... 'programed' I suppose into the mawashi belts. They will not pick someone motivated by such things, among other crita."

“Good to know, that. Last question: Will I be able to keep in touch with my family?” Ashley knew that would be the deciding answer. Being a superhero didn't mean diddly to her if she couldn't keep up with her mother, high maintenance as Blanche Rodwell was, or her beloved Daddy Rodwell for that matter.

Yokozuna blinked. “Of course. Though I doubt revealing that you’ve become a super powered sumo wrestler in the service of a Japanese deity would make for a good dinner conversation. Nevertheless, if you wish to keep a casual conversation going with your loved ones, I will not object.”

Ashley flushed at the image of trying to broach such a topic to her urban parents. Somehow white straitjackets didn’t seem anywhere near as complementary of her figure as her new Sumo Red body suit (transformation?) did.

“What I meant by that,” Yokozuna continued. “Was that any job and home you have will be forfeited, though not without just compensation of course. You will become a member and resident of my own sumo stable. Plus,” the deity winked at her. “No monthly bills or grocery expenses.”

Seconds passed, while Ashley bit her lower ruby red lip as she weighed her choices.

On the one hand, she would be giving up her safe, secure, mundane life. On the other, she’d be living the adventurous life of a genuine superhero filled with peril and danger, but goddess or spirit of sumo herself having hand picked her of all people to be the first ranger of a team made to save the world. Plus, the idea of no longer having to worry about monthly bills did have its own appeal.

“Alright Yokozuna,” Ashley said at last. “You have yourself a deal.”

Yokozuna beamed, almost motherly at her. “I am glad to hear that.”

Ashley's mind whirled. In a second they had gone from a back alley city to what appeared to be a traditional Japanese styled hallway judging by all the paper sliding doors around them. The hallway was somehow (Ashley had a feeling the answer was magically) large enough to fit both larger-than-life women easily side by side. Glancing to the side, Ashley let out a sigh of relief when she saw her purse laying besides her, her heels now fixed and resting snug against her book.

“Welcome, Ashley-chan, to the Heya Homestead. This will be our base of operations. I have just moved your things from your apartment. Your room is the door with the appropriate color. I would suggest getting to bed early tonight, for we have a lot of training and basics to get through tomorrow.”

A sudden thought occurred to Ashley. “Yokozuna? I might have just one more question.”

“Yes?”

“Well, that is to say-” Ashley's face flushed a very fitting Sumo Ranger shade of red under her mask of the same hue. “How is it that I turn back to normal, exactly? This suit doesn't exactly have any zippers or buttons on it and a woman needs to know these things if nature calls, you understand?”

Yokozuna chuckled. "A fair question, if you still have the energy, we can talk in the living room."

Sumo Red pursed her ruby red coated lips into a warm smile as she followed the woman with all 600 pounds of fat and muscle rippling under her bodysuit with that sensation of strength and power.

"That would be just darling, darling."

2023 Jan edits: Went back and revamped huge chunks of, well, the entire thing if I'm honest.

1. Made punk guy more of a sleezebag just to get the point across a bit stronger.

2. Gave Ashley a purse since I really just realized she should probably have one but because I'm a dude who doesn't use em irl I keep forgetting to give her one, I guess. That or Ashley like the rest of my sumo OCs just use their mawshi's pocket dimension to store shit, either or honestly.

3. Good god the bodysuit description was so extremely out of date that that alone needed to be changed and updated.

4. the whole 'fan of the leader type of cartoon char' thing isn't something I've brought up much but much like Ashley being a mystery fangirl (proper mystery, not what JJ Abrams thinks is a mystery) that is something I plan to bring up more as a hobby.

5. I honest to god forgot I went with Miriam as Ashley's middle name.

The first story of the sumo rangers prologue, starting off fittingly enough, with the red ranger of the group Ashley Rodwell.


The Prologues

Ashley's Tale: You're here!
Quentin's Tale: bob-dude.deviantart.com/art/Su…

Mike's Tale: bob-dude.deviantart.com/art/Su…

Kat's Tale: bob-dude.deviantart.com/art/Su…

Kory's Tale: bob-dude.deviantart.com/art/Su…

And yes, I highly recommend reading the prologues as they all slowly build up to Episode one and the series proper. A + means the episodes are highly connected in some form or another while a *means that there are plot elements that build up in chronological order. @ Means the episode is mostly stand alone and can be read after Episode One with little trouble.

Episode One: Ozeki Rises

+Episode Two: bob-dude.deviantart.com/art/Su…

+*Episode Three: bob-dude.deviantart.com/art/Su…

@*Episode Four: bob-dude.deviantart.com/art/Su…

*Episode Five: bob-dude.deviantart.com/art/Su…

*Episode Six: bob-dude.deviantart.com/art/Su…

@ Episode Seven: bob-dude.deviantart.com/art/Su…

Episode Eight: bob-dude.deviantart.com/art/Ep…

Episode Nine: bob-dude.deviantart.com/art/Ep…

+Episode Ten: bob-dude.deviantart.com/art/Ep…

+Episode Eleven: bob-dude.deviantart.com/art/Su…

@ Episode Twelve: bob-dude.deviantart.com/art/Ep…



Episode 15: Episode15: Green With Sumo Part 3 Season 1 Final

Season 2





Ep 5:

Ep 6:
© 2015 - 2024 bob-dude
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Skullguy66's avatar
Very nice! I like Ashley, confident, a bit sassy, defiantly an ideal leader!