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Capes and Cuisines: Regirth (NEW CHAPTER ADDED 1/17/2022)


Cyril Figgis

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Guest ratetankmark

I'm loving the introduction to a supersized speedster. :D They do have to eat a fair bit more than a regular person, if I recall correctly? xD Really excited to see where this goes and I love Lily already, I like that it's a demon summoning instead of the typical science explanation of someone like The Flash. Great job, as usual. :) 

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SPEED DEMON, PART 2

The next week was relatively quiet for Lily—almost too quiet, though she tried not to look a gift horse in the mouth.  Any week without a major crisis in Cornerstone was a blessing to her, as it gave her more time to herself and do the things she wanted to do without worrying about some disaster.  She finally had time to finish that book she got for Christmas, catch up with some friends, and, most importantly, hit the gym.  It was easy to say that the speedster got plenty of exercise as the Speed Demon, but much like her Justice United teammate, Defensor, just because she had powers did not mean she had to exercise any less.  If anything, she had to exert herself that much more in order to maintain a body that could keep up with the rigors of superheroics.

While she did manage to catch up with her old sorority sisters and finish that book—and what a page turner it was—Lily never did carve out time for the gym.  It had become second nature to make excuses to avoid working out: she was too hungover from her girls night out, she only had a few more pages to go and couldn’t put the book down, and there was a backlog of shows on her DVR that she had been waiting to catch up on.  Before she knew it, Lily’s week of ease had passed by and she had not gone within spitting distance of her apartment complex’s gym.

It was a quiet Thursday night when everything changed.  Harry Barker, the man behind the Polar Bear moniker, was cooking a batch of chili in his apartment when the door burst open and his girlfriend zoomed in.  He glanced up from the ** and asked, “Hey babe, how was the J.U. meeting?”

“Not bad,” Lily answered as she took off her coat and sauntered into the kitchen.  “Miracle’s taking a couple weeks off to go back home for some annual tournament and Miss Elite’s on her way back from the Void Space, but nothing much else going on.”

“How’s the Skeleton doing?  I hear he took a pretty bad whopping the other week,” Harry remarked before taking a sip of his concoction and making a mental note for more paprika.

“He’s looking good, but we’re still trying to track down some pieces,” Lily replied.  She waltzed up behind her boyfriend and hugged him close as she took a whiff of the chili.  “But enough about work—I’d much rather talk about how good that smells.”

Harry turned to peck Lily on the forehead and told her, “I hope it tastes just as good, because we’ve got that cook-off coming up and I’m getting that blue ribbon back from the Piranha.  I’ll fix you a bowl in a few, so grab yourself a beer and I’ll be right with you.”

Lily was about to reply that she had already eaten at the meeting, thanks to Doctor Virtual bringing lasagna, breadsticks, and tiramisu, but then she remembered a previous promise to serve as taste tester and a wave of guilt washed over her.  If there was anything Harry prided about himself over his talent as a thief, it was his cooking, and she wanted to help him however she could.  Thus, despite her Italian dinner sitting heavy in her stomach, she still licked her lips and went for that beer.

“Can’t wait,” the speedster fibbed as she grabbed a bottle and cracked it open on the counter.

It was not long before the chili was ready, but Lily was surprised to find a slice of cornbread accompanying the bowl.  When she looked to Harry for an answer, he explained, “Can’t have chili without some good cornbread.”

“No denying that,” Lily replied before taking a bite of chili and immediately regretting it.  Not because it was bad—it was the most delicious thing she had eaten all week.  No, what made it so regrettable was the fact that she knew she was going to eat the whole bowl and go back for seconds.  Damn Harry for making the best chili in the tri-state area!

It was flaming hot, but there were sweet and fruity notes that made their way past the sheer spice and gave the dish an extra layer of flavor.  Lily wanted to be a good taste tester and give notes in between bites, but she was too lost in the hot sauce to provide much feedback.  Thankfully, Harry came prepared for that and simply took the fact that Lily wolfed down her meal as a point in the right direction.  She managed to get through two bowls of chili and three slices of cornbread before throwing in the towel, but the satisfied grin on her lips was all Harry needed.

“God, babe, you’re like a chili wizard,” Lily murmured as she rubbed the slight swell in her stomach and nursed the heat in her mouth with another beer.  “You missed your calling in life.”

“But if I opened up a restaurant, the chances of us meeting would have gone way down,” Harry replied as he cleaned up the table.  “Thanks for your help as always, babe.”

“Anything for my man,” Lily hummed contentedly as she brushed her hand along his when he collected her bowl.  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to sleep off this food baby.”

Unfortunately, sleep was not an option for the speedster, as her smartwatch pinged with an emergency alert.  A glance at the screen set her eyes rolling and she groaned, “Oh, give me a break.”

“Trouble in town?” Harry called out from the kitchen.

“Alakazam is screwing around downtown,” Lily grunted as she worked herself out of her chair, ignoring the ache in her stomach after consuming a second dinner.  “I swear, I thought I put her in her place last month, but she just doesn’t learn.”

“You want me to pound some sense into her?” asked the feisty freezer.  “She didn’t learn her lesson when I kicked her out of the Pack, but maybe she’ll listen this time.”

Lily waved off the suggestion and replied, “No, no, I’ve got this.  After this slow week, I could use a chance to stretch my legs.  I’m going to change real quick, and then I’m out.”

‘Real quick’ to most people meant a minute or two, but for someone as fast as Lily, it meant she grabbed her spare costume from Harry’s closet and squeezed into it in a fraction of a fraction of a second.  It took longer to blink than it did for her to change, and no sooner had she finished her sentence than she was standing in the kitchen again.  The only difference was that she was no longer clad in her casual clothes, but rather, the garb of the Speed Demon.

Yet, there was something different about her that night.  Her mask still had little horns on top and left the lower half of her face exposed, her gloves were still fingerless, and she still had a pitchfork symbol in the center of her chest.  No, there was nothing off about the costume itself—rather, it was in how the jumpsuit fit on Lily.  It was clingier now, only serving to highlight the little love handles sprouting at her waist, the bloat in her stomach, and how round her rump had grown over the last couple months.  She looked less like a superhero and more like someone cosplaying as their favorite masked idol, but Harry was not about to tell her that.

“Looking good, Lil,” the burly man hummed as he pulled her in for a kiss.  “I’ll have some rhubarb pie ready for you when you get back.”

After a long, savory kiss, Lily broke away and brushed her fingers along her lover’s scruffy cheeks, cooing, “I’m looking forward to it.  See you around, Big Bear.”

“Later, Little Devil,” Harry whispered in return.

If they had known those were the last words they would share for a long time, perhaps they would have thought of something better to say.  As it was, Harry went back to putting together his pie, not knowing that Speed Demon was about to disappear off the face of the planet…

***

Alakazam proudly boasted at being the most unpredictable of Speed Demon’s enemies, but she was just as much a creature of habit as anyone else.  All the members of the Pack had their little quirks about what they stole or targeted—Goldfinch’s desires were right there in the name—and the illusionist was no exception.  Whenever she worked on her own, Alakazam most often targeted concerts, raves, and theaters, all in the name of getting herself in the spotlight above all others.  That was one of the few perks of having her as an enemy: Speed Demon never had to look far whenever she was up to trouble.

Still, it was a surprise to find her crashing a rather small concert in the park.  Alakazam was beside herself with laughter when Speed Demon arrived on the scene, and the reason for her malicious mirth was clear.  The park was in pure pandemonium, with people running to and fro in an effort to evade some unseen enemy and others bound by an invisible force.  In truth, the patrons were under the control of a powerful illusion, causing them to see flocks of angry doves divebombing them or picture themselves covered with playing cards.  Though they were mere tricks of the mind, Alakazam had a way of making her illusions feel more real than reality itself.

Speed Demon, however, was not so impressed thanks to a combination of disdain for the malevolent magician and running on such a full stomach.  There was a wicked cramp running up her side and her thighs were rubbing each other raw, and having to deal with a delusional Alakazam was not helping her mood.  Hopefully, she would be able to end this quick so she could get back to Harry’s, put her feet up, and enjoy some of that delicious rhubarb pie.

“I’d say that this is beneath you, Kazzie, but you’re already the lowest of the low,” Speed Demon declared as she made her presence known.  “What’s next—upstaging Shakespeare in the Park just so you can feel like a star?”

“A true icon goes wherever the wind takes them, Speed D-Lister,” Alakazam retorted with her hand over her heart.  “I wouldn’t even consider myself above fleecing some twits on the street with a simple shell game!”

“Well, you’re going to have quite the captive audience when I send you back to Pelican Island,” the speedster snorted before dashing off in a burst of fire.

For a brief moment, it seemed as though the park was aflame as the Speed Demon picked up the victims of Alakazam’s illusions and deposited them at the edge of the park—safely out of range from the magician’s hallucination-inducing gadgets.  Some of the fastest heroes looked like a bolt of lightning or a blur of color as they moved, but the hellfire heroine generated a burning aura about herself that made her seem like a ghostly will-o-wisp.  Thankfully, the fire she generated could not harm anyone unless she willed it, which meant the patrons were left with a pleasant warmth and little else afterward.

Once the park was clear of all but Speed Demon and Alakazam, the brilliant blur stopped in front of her enemy and sneered, “Now, no one has to see me kick your sorry cottontail halfway across town.”

“We’ll see who kicks whose tail tonight, you hot-headed hussy,” Alakazam jeered as she reached for her teleportation wand.  “First, I’m going to send you to—”

“Nowhere?  Because you haven’t got your wand?” asked Speed Demon, who now stood behind Alakazam and tossed her wand back and forth to herself.  “Really, I’m surprised you didn’t take that demon’s offer to get actual magic powers; it’d make it a lot harder for me to catch you, y’know.”

Despite being disarmed, Alakazam did not falter.  She turned on her heels and stuck her tongue out at her quick-thinking rival as she giggled, “I don’t need real magic to stop a halfwit like you—I just need to bring a spare!”

Before Speed Demon could ask what her egotistical enemy meant, Alakazam snapped her fingers and something began to hum in the trees behind her.  It was too dark to see, but a second magic wand had been hidden in the branches of a cedar tree across from the stage, and it was aimed right at the speedster.  She tried to dodge away as a bolt of white light shot out of the wand, but the stitch in her side kept from dashing away in the split second it took for the bolt to reach her.  The world went blindly bright for an instant, then infinitely dark as the Speed Demon was rocketed across time and space, leaving not a trace behind.

“We did it, Ganesha!  We did it!” Alakazam cheered, her robotic bunny ears wiggling in excitement.  “That fleetfooted fool is out of my hair and out of my life!  Wherever you sent her, I hope it’s some place she’s never coming back from.”

Grand Ganesha chuckled over the other end of their comms.  “Oh, you needn’t worry about her: I sent her to a place where not even a demon could survive…”

***

When her senses returned to her and she found a grip on reality again, the Speed Demon found herself in a wholly different world than the one she left behind.  Gone was the idyllic park with lush trees, green grass, and vibrant flowers, replaced instead with towering buildings, cold concrete, and rusted metal as far as the eye could see.  There were few people around, but those that were looked like they had come from the Dark Ages, with miserable, downtrodden faces and tattered clothes that hung from weak and frail bodies.  Even the sky was imposing, with blues replaced by sanguine red and black, billowing clouds of smoke blotting out anything else.

“Where am I?” Speed Demon muttered to herself as she looked around for some kind of hint as to her location.  Alakazam could not send her victims through time, so she was not in some dystopian future—but then again, the disappearing act was much stronger than it had ever been before.

As the speedster studied her surroundings, one of the civilians eyeballed her warily and spat, “Just what we need…another damn superfreak around here.”

“Excuse me?” asked Speed Demon, turning to see an older man leaning against a lamp post that cast a dismal glow on him.

“You heard me,” the man snorted before taking a swig from a bottle of inky black liquid.  “You caped cocksuckers are the reason the world went to shit; we would never have been bothered by aliens and whatnot if you hadn’t come around.”

It was not the first time that Speed Demon had met an anti-hero civilian, but it was the first time she met one that possibly had a point.  If this was the result of some alien invasion and the heroes of the world had failed to protect it, she imagined she would have been bitter too.  She put those thoughts aside though, opting instead to get some information on the strange world she had been zapped to.

“Look, I’m sorry about what happened to your world, but I don’t know how I got here,” the speedy savior explained.  “I want to try and find my way home—then, maybe, I can get you some help.”

The man spat again and staggered over to Speed Demon as he jeered, “Help?  You want to help, after your kind brought the Omega Feast down upon us?  You lost how many Justice Fucks against that cosmic bitch, and you still want to help?”

“My good man, is that any way to talk about your benevolent ruler?” asked a smooth, syrupy voice from above.

All the courage drained out of the foul-mouthed man as he and Speed Demon glanced up at a curiously garbed man standing on a floating platform between a group of winged monsters.  The man was dressed like a wandering samurai, clad in a long kimono covered in red and black flowers and carrying a katana at his waist.  His hair was pulled back into a ponytail and he had a scruffy beard, but there was an impish charm that would have made him seem friendly in more hospitable climates.  As it was, his being flanked by a trio of fly-man hybrids only filled Speed Demon’s heart with dread.

“N-Nothing!  Forgive me, great Titian,” the man groveled as he fell to his knees and bowed to the imposing arrivals.  “I did not mean to speak foul of our most excellent queen!”

“And yet, you were the one who called her a ‘cosmic bitch’, were you not?  Hardly the tongue of a faithful subject,” Titian replied as he clicked his tongue in mock sympathy.  “Perhaps we ought to cut it out and let it serve better as a snack for Her Majesty.”

“No!  No, please, have mercy!” squealed the man, though his pleas fell on deaf ears.

One of the fly-men buzzed down to the street and reached for the man’s throat, only to be knocked into a building down the street.  Speed Demon stood where the abomination was an instant prior, and she glared up at Titian and his remaining guards.  She hissed, “I don’t know who you think you are, but where I come from, we don’t take kindly to people ripping out tongues.”

“My oh my, do I detect the scent of a superhero?” Titian asked as he hopped down from his platform and landed in front of Speed Demon.  He made no attempt to hide how his eyes wandered over her body, and he licked his lips as he remarked, “And such a thin one too!  I don’t know how we missed you before, but I’m going to enjoy bringing you down.”

“If you can even touch me, wise guy,” Speed Demon grunted.  She charged at the lackadaisical man, only for him to dodge away from her punch.

“That would be my line, madame,” Titian hummed merrily.  “Now, do try to make this entertaining, won’t you?  It’s been an age since I killed a superhero…”

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SPEED DEMON - PART 3

Speed Demon was no stranger to fighting foes just as fast or faster than she was; Anti-Speed, Doctor Blur, and Mercury were all living proof of that.  The trick with Titian, her current foe, was not necessarily that he was faster than her—in a foot race, she would win handily—but that he was able to read her moves before she even made them.  She busted out every move she knew, but no matter how fast she moved, the samurai always seemed one step ahead.  That was frustrating enough, but he only made it worse with his continuous taunting, as if this was all a big game for him.

“You nearly got me that time, madame,” Titian chuckled as he sidestepped a wild haymaker.  “I will say that you are, without a doubt, the fastest speedster I have encountered in some time.  You might even be faster than King Yama himself!”

“Will you stop talking already?” Speed Demon snarled.  The combination of her growing speed and frustrations were bringing out the demon in her, and she hissed at her boastful foe with a forked tongue.  “How are you doing this?”

Titian wagged his finger at the infuriated speedster and playfully chided, “Now, now, I don’t want to make this too easy for you.  I thought that all you whizzers were supposed to be geniuses, but I suppose that is stereotyping on my part.”

Speed Demon growled and zipped away from the lackadaisical samurai, not wanting to risk an attack from him despite how he had not struck a single time as yet.  Loathe as she was to admit, he had a point—she would need to use her brain to beat him, not her speed.  And while she could not land a blow on him, that did not mean he was invulnerable to other forms of attack.

“Time for the Run-Around,” the hellfire heroine hissed to herself as she sprinted in and began running circles around Titian.

It was a technique she had used on a few foes before: running so fast that she not only created a cyclone, but a fire whirl at that; considering the danger it posed, both in suffocating and burning her enemies, it was something she used only as a last resort.  If ever there was a time for it, this was it, as she was not about to die on an alien world to some cosplaying tool.  She pushed down her regret over not working out the last week and focused on the task at hand, ignoring how her thighs burned as much as the wall of fire around Titian.

For a brief moment, it seemed that she had him, as Speed Demon watched the samurai fall to his knees in the middle of the blazing whirlwind.  Unfortunately, she was so focused on him going down that she failed to notice him scatter a number of caltrops from his sleeves and onto the ground in front of her.  That was her undoing, as the brash speedster sank her foot into one of the spiky traps and broke her rotation at 100 mph, tumbling ass over kettle before crashing into a wall with a sickening thud.

Titian, for his part, looked no worse for the wear, save for a little color in his cheeks and singe on the edges of his kimono.  He straightened out his robe as he sauntered over to the fallen Speed Demon and said, “Now, that’s using your head, old girl.  Sadly, I’ve met enough of your kind to know how to deal with a cyclone trap, though I should applaud you for the hellfire twist.  I think we could have had a bit more fun, but alas, our time is at an end.”

Speed Demon was dazed, but even through the pain, she could tell that her enemy had pulled a knife from his kimono.  She limply held her hand out as if that would stop him while praying for help from anyone that would listen.  Thankfully, those silent prayers were answered, but if she knew by which god, she might have reconsidered the knife.

“Hold your blade, Titian,” a raspy voice called out from on high.  “Her Majesty wants this one alive and well for study.”

It was hard to make out between the concussion and being upside-down, but Speed Demon saw a man clad in leather straps and robes that made him resemble a bishop into S&M.  He had a number of piercings lining his face, even going through his eyelids, and his skin was drawn so tight that she could make out the bones of his skull.  Like Titian, he was escorted by a group of winged abominations, but they carried him in a translucent container, wherein he sat atop a throne.  Whoever he was, he was even more important than her assailant, and Speed Demon wondered if she had wandered out of the frying pan and into the fire.

“Barkour, are you sure?  A whizzer can be quite the handful,” the samurai replied, though he sheathed his blade all the same.

“We have ways of containing them,” Barkour answered.  “This one is different though: she does not come from our dimension; she traveled farther than any Multi-Road could send us.  I am to take her back to the Meggidome for analysis.”

Titian sighed and waved for his winged minions to collect the prone Speed Demon from the sidewalk.  “If it is Her will, then so be it.  All glory to the Queen of Armagluttony and whatnot.”

Though she was battered from her fall, Speed Demon still wriggled about in the fly-mens’ grasp until Titian put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head.  He cautioned her, “Save your strength, fast one, for you will need it where you’re going.”

The speedster glowered at her foe and spat, “What are you people?”

“Children of the Cardinal Sinners,” Titian answered, “and you are on a rock that was once called Earth—now a colony for the motherworld of Gehennix.  I would say that you should be thankful to be a part of the Omega Feast, but truthfully, you’d have been better off taking the knife.”

The threat of what was to come sent shivers down Speed Demon’s spine, and she only struggled harder to break free from her bonds.  If she could only get a bit more heated, she could turn herself into fire and slip right through her guards’ mutant hands, and then she could really show them what Hell looked like.  That chance never came, for several chains fired out of Barkour’s container and wrapped themselves tight as a boa constrictor around the speedster.  She found herself bound from the neck to her feet, wrapped in chains so heavy and tight that even her captors had trouble holding her up.

“If you can escape those chains, you would be the first,” Barkour sneered from within.  “The more you struggle, the tighter they become; I have had countless souls stronger than you get crushed by their hubris.  Best you settle down, lest your bones break and the blood be forced from your orifices.”

It was no empty threat, as even squirming in the chains caused them to grip Speed Demon tighter than any bear hug she had ever received.  Even as the demonic part of her longed for the freedom to destroy these fiends, she knew that she did not hold a single card; if she wanted to escape, she would have to play along and wait for an opportunity.

“All right, have it your way,” the speedster grunted.  “But rest assured: when I get out of these chains, I’ll burn you alive.”

“Better heroes than you have tried and failed, false demon,” Barkour replied, his thin lips curling up in a cruel smirk.  “Let’s not waste any more words—it’s best not to keep Her Majesty waiting.”

***

The trip to the Meggidome was silent, save for the buzz of the fly-men’s hideous wings and the wail of the cityscape below.  Urban wasteland sprawled out as far as the eye could see, with nary a hint of green or blue in sight, replaced only by cold, ugly gray.  While much of the city was a massive slum, the conditions grew slightly more affording—though no less dismal—as they drew closer to the Meggidome.  Speed Demon had seen many horrible places in her life, but never had she seen a place that looked so much like Hell on Earth.

The Meggidome itself was a vast structure that was bigger than two football stadiums side by side and reminded Speed Demon of a horseshoe crab’s shell.  Weak humans shuffled in and out of the base, monitored by stormtroopers on the ground below and fly-men hovering in the air.  A thick cloud of smoke billowed out from the roof, bringing with it a sickeningly sweet scent that made the speedster’s teeth ache just by smelling it.

“Is this part of the Omega Feast?” Speed Demon asked Titian as they approached a portal in the roof.  “You going to feed me to some doom machine?”

The samurai scoffed and took a swig from a jug at his hip.  “Hardly—that would be a waste of a perfectly good hero.  You’ll learn your fate soon enough, don’t you worry.”

After they landed in a hangar full of fly-men, Barkour and Titian hauled their captive into a hallway that overlooked a large factory floor, and Speed Demon realized that the situation was far worse than she could have imagined.  The floor below was filled with immense blobs of fat that only vaguely resembled women, their feminine curves exaggerated to such a degree that they looked like parade balloons.  Each one was hooked to a variety of tubes: some in their mouths, some clamped to their breasts, and some buried beneath them in places Speed Demon did not want to imagine.  She wondered for a moment if it was not too late to kill herself with the chains, but she did not have long to think that before being carted off to another room.

They passed through hall after hall, each its own special brand of disturbing—from women being milked like cows to pregnant mothers bound to a wall of slime to a wing known only as The Charcuterie.  Eventually, they brought her to a laboratory that was easily the cleanest room she had seen since arriving in this nightmarish place but had its walls lined with alien devices that seemed more like torture equipment.  There, Titian and Barkour lay Speed Demon against a table, where the chains that bound her shifted around until they shackled her to the tabletop.

“It is a shame to part, but I shall be sure to stop by from time to time, my dear,” Titian hummed as he rubbed his palm over Speed Demon’s stomach, which only made the heroine feel nauseous.  “I look forward to seeing what the good doctor does with you.”

“What will he do?  What in God’s name is this place?” Speed Demon asked, doing whatever she could to stall for time while she thought of a plan.

Before either of her captors could answer, a deep voice answered, “Your God has nothing to do with this, I assure you.”

Titian and Barkour both showed fear for the first time that day and turned to find a towering woman walking towards them.  The woman was tall—taller even than Brutess—and had the powerful physique of a weightlifter, combining muscle with a thick, feminine frame.  She had jet black hair cut into a sharp bob that framed a face that looked like it was carved out of stone, eyes that glowed like lava, and the regal demeanor of a queen.  Her powerful body was contained within a suit of leather armor that hugged every inch of her, save for her arms, which were left bare.  The room shook with each imposing step she took, and Speed Demon felt like she would vomit from the fear that pooled in her stomach at the sight of this woman.

“Your Grace,” Titian and Barkour both murmured as they bowed to the monarch, though she paid them no mind and inspected Speed Demon.

“A fine specimen indeed, Titian,” the woman mused before she reached out and pinched the speedster’s stomach.  She rolled the lip of fat in her fingers before letting go, only to grab a handful of that soft potbelly and knead it like dough.  “And to think, this one has neither gorged on our food nor been tainted with one of our poisons—she was flabby to begin with.  I dare say that you have the makings of a perfect pig.”

Speed Demon wanted to argue, banter, or communicate at all—anything to help build her flagging courage—but when faced with this woman who could crush her head with one hand, she fell silent.  All she could do was watch in mute horror as the stoic monarch fondled her like fruit in the market: squeezing her softest places, pinching and prodding along her limbs, and undressing her with her searing gaze.  There had been plenty of tight spots in her career thus far, from being trapped in a giant hourglass to being converted into a soundwave, but nothing compared to facing down what had to be the embodiment of pure evil.

“Yes, I think that I shall enjoy this one very much,” the woman decided after what felt an eternity.  She barely turned her head to Barkour, but the leatherbound man shot right to his feet as she told him, “Find out all you can about her home dimension.  If there are other worlds out there, then they exist solely for me.”

“It shall be done, Your Majesty,” the sneering fiend replied, all his wicked bravado gone in the face of his malevolent mistress.

The woman turned on her heel and began to stride out of the room before Speed Demon told her, “I’m going to get out of here, you know.  Whatever torture you put me through, it won’t keep me down; I’m going to break out of here and I’ll bring down hellfire on you!”

For a brief moment, the speedster felt her courage swelling up inside her, but it was snuffed out the second she heard the woman laugh.  It was a mirthless laugh full of nothing but contempt and disdain for her captive; the kind of laugh that those on top make as they spit on those beneath.  When she turned to grin at Speed Demon, it was with the same toothy grin that a hungry lion makes as it stalks its prey.  It made the speedster’s stomach turn, and she felt like she would vomit if she stared at the powerful woman for any longer.

“What would one like you know about hellfire?  I was born in hellfire, birthed on a pillar of brimstone, and nursed by the three-headed guardian of the abyss,” the woman scoffed.  “I am nothing like the cartoon villains you have no doubt faced in the past—I am the very face of evil itself!  When you wonder who could allow such pain and suffering to exist in this world, know that it is because I will it!  When you see the pure of heart turn foul and fetid, it is because their innocence has been consumed by my appetite!  I am the black hole at the heart of your reality, feeding on all that is right and good until there is nothing left but me—Korup Shen, the last Cardinal of Sin!”

The dread woman turned once more and snapped her fingers as she commanded, “Send in Tonta—I want her to show what she can do with this one.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Barkour answered with another bow.

The two exited the room, leaving Speed Demon alone with Titian, who sat and drank from his jug while waiting for Tonta—whoever she was.  Silence filled the air, broken only by the swish of wine, until the speedster chuckled grimly to herself, “And to think, I was going to diet.”

“Rather bad timing, I’d say,” the samurai replied before corking the jug.  “Of course, I doubt you would have come here if you had a choice, so it’s really bad everything.”

“What’s going to happen to me?” asked Speed Demon, thinking back to the lumps of lard she saw as she passed through the Meggidome.  “Am I going to be like any of those poor women?”

Titian shrugged and answered, “It’s not my place to say.  Personally, I would have elected to make you a Scavenger Sister, but does anyone ever listen to what I have to say?  No.  But I imagine that you’ll make a fine battery for the Omega Feast—fueling Our Lady’s consumption as it spreads throughout the cosmos.  It’s a beautiful thing, if you’re into that.”

“It doesn’t sound like you care much one way or the other, so why do this?  Why kill, capture, and fatten people for her?” the speedster asked, trying desperately to make sense of a mad world.

“Well, it helps if you don’t see them as people, for one,” the samurai answered without any joke in his voice.  “You humans are so fragile—so easy to kill—that you’re less like sentient beings and more like…animals, I suppose.  I’ve made peace with what I do for a career, and that is enough.”

Speed Demon was prepared to ask more questions when another woman entered the room, albeit one much less intimidating than Korup Shen.  She was lean, to the point that she was more or less skin and bones, and she wore a purple and yellow plaid suit that was so tight on her, it seemed fused with her skin.  Her brown hair was a ratty mess, which carried down into a manic look in her eyes that made the speedster’s spine tingle.

“So, this is the patient?” asked Tonta.  “Oh, I see what Her Majesty meant when she said that this would be a fun one.  I’m going to enjoy sculpting her into a symbol of gluttony!”

“And I can’t wait to see what you come up with, little fool,” Titian hummed before turning to Speed Demon and blowing her a kiss.  “Until next time—assuming you still have all your mental faculties, that is.”

As Titian left and Tonta gathered tools from around the room, Speed Demon held out hope that she would escape before she became a ball of fat.  All she needed was one chance, just one…

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SPEED DEMON - PART 4

Lily’s eyes shot open as she woke up in a cold sweat, her heart racing a mile a minute as visions of an apocalyptic world drifted through her head.  The last thing she remembered, she was chained up in some horrific laboratory with a gremlin-like woman attaching a mask to her face—something she had to check for as she ran her hand over her lips.  But she was only laying in her bed, not trapped in some hellscape (no matter how much her mother insisted it was a disaster).  She propped herself up on her elbow and threw off the covers to check for any bruises from her fight with Titian, but her skin was fair as could be—even her foot was fine, despite being stabbed by a caltrop.

“Morning, lazybones,” Harry greeted her as he poked his head in.  “That fight yesterday must have really tuckered you out.”

“Fight?” Lily mumbled, her mind cranking back as she tried to remember what happened the day before.  She remembered getting an emergency call about Alakazam, racing to the park, and a burst of light, but everything after that was a blur.

“Yeah, with Alakazam,” Harry answered while he walked into the room, carrying a tray full of breakfast goodies with him.  “She whammied you pretty good, but I got down there with a little help from Miss Blitz and reminded that hack why she’s not welcome in this city anymore.”

It was plausible enough for the groggy speedster, who reached out for a donut from the tray and dipped it in a mug of creamy coffee.  Lily rubbed the sleep from her eyes and grunted, “I’ll have to thank her next time I see her—and you, for that matter.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay, babe,” Harry replied after kissing her forehead.  “Now, you just eat up—you’ve earned a nice breakfast in bed after all that.”

Lily hummed as she settled into her meal, the dread of her nightmare well behind her and all her attention on the plates of goodies in her lap.  She took a bite of bacon and cooed, “I’ll take it this time, but let’s call this one last blowout before I hit the gym.  If last night taught me anything, it’s that I need to get my fat butt back into shape, pronto.”

Harry chuckled at the remark and winked in return.  “Then I’ll have to make sure it’s a good blowout.  I’m going to check on the waffles, but you let me know if you need anything else, ‘kay?”

“Fanks, babe!” Lily called out, her mouth too full of donut to reply properly.

She had no idea how she had lucked out with Harry Barker, a thief with a heart of gold and knew how to make a mean spread.  He really knew how to treat a girl right: flaky hashbrowns, fluffy eggs, and chunky sausage all wrapped up in a burrito; two thick, cakey glazed donuts; rich, creamy coffee that was sweet as candy.  It was exactly what she needed after a rough night of fighting crime, and a perfect way to close up her week of indulgence.

Of course, the last thing Lily needed was any more food, as her nightie was already slipping up her potbelly and her boy shorts pinched at her thighs.  She always made promises to do better and not let herself get out of shape like Defensor’s kid, but the fact was that she was already well on her way to matching Guardiana.  Every bite was another few calories she did not really need; every sip of her rich coffee meant another few minutes on the treadmill.  None of this crossed her mind though, as she was too assured that the pounds would melt right off as soon as she got back in the gym—even though that date kept getting pushed back and back.

“Finished already?” asked Harry when he returned with a stack of waffles dripping with butter and syrup.  “Looks like that fight really took it out of you.”

“Wha?” Lily grunted as she glanced from her boyfriend to the empty tray that sat in her lap.  Surely she had not finished all that food already: there was enough to feed two people, yet her stomach still felt frightfully empty, as if she had not eaten in days.

“Don’t worry—I’ve got everything a growing girl needs,” her attentive boyfriend hummed as he made room for the waffles and cleared away her empty plates.  “I’ve got plenty more cooking in the kitchen, so you just sit back and enjoy, okay?”

Growing girl?  No, that was not right.  Harry had teased her about that the other night, but that was all silly little nothings meant to make her feel better about a few extra pounds she had put on.  Lily had gotten soft, there was no denying that, but it was not like she was trying to fatten up on purpose.  She just happened to like her food was all, and there was no crime against that!

Yet, as she tucked into the waffles without a second thought, there was no denying she had gotten pretty chubby in recent days.  The hospital had slashed her hours due to budget cuts, and crime was at a new low in Cornerstone thanks to the combined efforts of the Pack and her fellow speedsters.  It was no surprise that she would plump up with so much free time on her hands, especially since there always seemed to be some maintenance going on that kept the gym closed.  Of course she was going to roll into larger sizes if the universe conspired against her like this.

“Wait, what?” Lily asked herself after stuffing a piece of waffle in her mouth.  None of that was right: the hospital had not done anything with her hours, super-crime was still a major problem in Cornerstone, and her apartment complex’s gym was always open, even if she had ignored it.

“Everything to your liking, babe?” asked Harry as he returned with more food—this time, an entire box of donuts from Lily’s favorite shop.

“Harry, hold on, I’m still working on my waffles,” Lily contested, but when she looked down, all she saw was an empty plate, clean of all crumbs and drops of syrup.

Her attentive boyfriend chuckled and wiped her lips after switching the tray for the Jojo Donuts.  “I knew that a few waffles wouldn’t be enough for my big, beautiful woman, so I made a quick run over to grab a dozen of your favorites.”

Lily’s fingers trembled as she opened the box and revealed an assortment of Boston creams that looked more imposing to her than the entirety of the Injustice Force combined.  Despite the fear and uncertainty bubbling away in her mind, she plucked one of the donuts from the box and nearly bit it in half.  Her eyelids fluttered and she swooned at the sweet flavors dancing around in her mouth, and those worries that plagued her were pushed back into the recesses of her brain.

“Oh, baby, you’re so good to me,” the speedster moaned around a mouthful of donut.  “For real though, I can’t keep eating like this—I’m going to be too fat to run if you keep spoiling me!”

Harry cocked an eyebrow at the remark and shook his head as he replied, “Lil, you know you haven’t been able to run since the fight with the Anti-Speed.  The sumbitch kneecapped you, remember?  We had a retirement party and everything.”

No, no, that was all wrong: the Anti-Speed had her number a few times, but he had never crippled Lily in a fight before; in fact, their last fight ended with her breaking his back after bumping him into a mountainside the month before.  And she could still run just fine, even if it was getting a little harder to go long distances what with the friction caused by her thighs and how awkward it was when her belly bounced around.  But even that did not sound right in her head, as she was certain that she was nowhere near that heavy.

“Ah’m so confused,” Lily mumbled while she stuffed her cheeks.

“Probably just hungry,” Harry assured her before pecking her forehead again.  “I know you can’t really think on an empty stomach; give me a few and I’ll get you some breakfast sandwiches.”

Lily nodded dumbly, unsure of what was going on and if she was not still dreaming.  Her head felt like a balloon filled to bursting, all from a jumble of memories that she could no longer tell were real or not.  She was a superhero; she was just a normal EMT.  She played softball in college; she tore her ACL before she ever had a chance to play.  She was a few pounds overweight; she was morbidly obese.  All these and more clouded her mind, and it left the stumped speedster helpless to do anything but munch away at the donuts on her stomach.

Stomach?  What happened to the tray?  Lily glanced down at her lap and realized there was no tray to be found—the box of donuts was placed on the swell of her belly.  So shocked was she that she dropped the Boston cream in her hand and struggled to swallow her current mouthful, and her hand shook as she reached out to test if it was real.  There was no way she could have grown such a gut without noticing, yet the way her fingers pinched at fluffy flab and how it jiggled when she sloshed it around confirmed it.  Lily Summers was fat, no two ways about it.

With a moment of clarity, she took the chance to examine what she could of her body and found that the poundage was not isolated to her stomach.  What had once been modest breasts were now full handfuls that pooled atop her belly without the support of a strong bra, her arms resembled cookie dough right out of the tin, and though her thighs were mostly covered by her belly, she could see that her calves were chunky enough to give her serious cankles.  Forget looking a little out of shape—she looked like she had not run anywhere in years.

Lily was pulled from her observations by Harry, who returned with greasy bags from Burger Barn and plopped them around her rotund belly.  She looked to him with fear for the first time since they met and asked, “Harry, what is all this?”

“Breakfast for my lovely, lardy lady,” the gruff crook answered with that same flirty tone that always made Lily feel special.  Always, except for today.

“Stop trying to be all cute and coy about this!” Lily snarled at her boyfriend, trying to summon up some of that inner demon to back her up.  “Harry, do you realize that you’ve brought me enough breakfast for everyone in Justice United so far, or that I’m a good couple hundred pounds fatter than I was last night?  Doesn’t any of this seem weird to you?”

Harry paused at that question and studied Lily for a moment before answering, “What are you talking about, Lil?  You’ve been getting fat ever since you had to resign from Justice United and they fired you from the hospital.  Don’t you remember?”

New memories flashed through her head, and Lily smacked her temples as she tried to force them away.  “No, no, no!  I’m still the Speed Demon and I still the fastest damn EMT at the hospital!  Stop trying to trick me!”

“Looks like someone’s in a bad mood,” Harry chuckled as he plucked a sandwich from one of the bags and unwrapped it to reveal a sausage, egg, and cheese deluxe—one of Lily’s many guilty pleasures.  “A little food will help you feel all better.”

“I don’t want any more,” Lily grunted.  She turned her head from her lover and crossed her arms under her chest in an effort to seem determined, though she only succeeded in looking like a chubby, spoiled child.  “I won’t eat another bite until you tell me what’s going on.”

Harry continued to chuckle, but the laughter became mirthless and sinister the longer it went on, and Lily almost regretted asking her question.  When he looked to her again, she saw that his eyes had changed from the piercing blue of her lover to inky pools of black.  His skin bubbled and flaked away, scarring the visage of her burly boyfriend as it shifted closer into a crude mockery.  He even seemed to grow in height, rising from Harry’s already impressive 6’2” to an imposing 7 foot-nothing.

“I’m impressed—most of you dumb broads are usually broken by this point,” the imposter chortled, his voice thick and gummed up.  “It won’t help you in the end, but I’ve got to give you points for piecing it together before your brain turned to jelly.”

“What are you?  Where am I?” Lily asked, doing her best not to shrink back into herself—or worse, stuff one of the sandwiches in her mouth to stifle her fear.

“One at a time, one at a time.  You’re currently chained up in the Meggidome and undergoing a little procedure to shatter your brain and will,” the thing explained as he paced the room, slowly losing his Harry disguise and taking on a ruddy appearance.  “As for what I am, they call me the Agglomination, but you can call me the Ever-Hatin’, Black-Eyed Glom.”

Trapped in her own mind—that would explain how they got Harry’s likeness and all her favorite foods.  Lily cursed herself for not realizing this sooner, but now that she knew what was going on, she was not going to slip back under again.  She scowled at the Glom and sneered, “Well, you’re done making me fatter, buddy.  I’m getting out of this simulation, and I don’t care what sort of tricks you’ve got up your sleeve—you aren’t keeping me here, and I won’t let you turn me into a blob.”

“And what’s a tubby little thing like you going to do about it?” the Glom taunted her, even flicking her mammoth belly with a sausage finger.  “The way you are right now, you’d have better luck rolling away from me than running.”

“I’m more than just a speedster, you ugly cuss,” Lily retorted as her eyes became hircine and horns sprouted from her head.

Before her tormentor could react, Lily let out a stream of hellfire from her mouth that engulfed the shapeshifter from head to toe.  She rocked from side to side to gain purchase and momentum while he put out the fire, and she eventually wobbled off the side of the bed and onto her feet.  Though she nearly toppled over from her distorted center of gravity, the speedster pushed on with renewed vigor and waddled towards the bedroom door as fast as her pudgy legs could carry her.  If she could just make it out of this room, she was sure that she would be able to escape this nightmare and find a way home…

***

While Lily fought to escape the horrific simulation, Tonta leaned back in her chair and cackled at the sight of the flailing fatty struggle to put one foot in front of the other.  According to the initial scans and testimony from Titian, the woman was a speedster, which meant robbing her of her fleetfooted nature was all the more delicious.  That was the part Tonta loved most about her job: slowing the fast, weakening the strong, and dumbing down the smart.  All those super clowns that looked down on her for years were now at her mercy, and no matter how many she brought under heel, it never got old.

She turned in her seat and watched the incapacitated prisoner to see how her physical body was taking to the enlargement.  The Speed Demon was still chained up in a spread eagle pattern, but those confines were joined by a tube that pumped a brown sludge down her throat, a visor that covered her eyes, and wires that crawled through her ears to toy with her brain.  It was one of many fabulous toys that the fiends of Gehennix brought with them, which they used to cow the people of Earth just like the captive Speed Demon.

Though she was not quite as large as she was in the simulation, the satanic speedster had grown immensely plump and heavy in her time under Tonta’s watch.  Her chin had expanded to a great ring of fat that rippled with each gulp of solution, her arms drooped with flabby bingo wings, and her breasts stretched out the symbol on her costume to unrecognizability.  A fat rump the size of a beanbag chair pushed her away from the slab she was shackled to, and her once limber thighs now touched almost to the knees.  The crowning achievement was her belly, which was a mound of dough so heavy that it actually broke through her costume and drooped over her crotch.

“Oh, just look at you,” Tonta tittered as she fondled the Speed Demon’s belly, tracing her fingers along the stretch marks that ringed it.  “I’m sure you could run halfway around the world in seconds before, but the only running you’ll be doing is jogging your memory to think of a time when you weren’t a tub of lard.  The mistress will be so pleased with your transblobification that she’ll surely reward me with supping on your power, yes?  Yes, you’ll earn me my reward…but only after a thousand more pounds at least.  Keep eating for me, you worthless cow, so I can finally take part in my feast!”

***

What Tonta did not realize as she taunted her prisoner was that she was being watched—not only by the security guards of the Meggidome, but by a caped crusader in the ceiling.  The girl who watched from the shadows was clad in an indigo suit with a violet cowl and cape that resembled a pair of wings.  She took picture after picture of Tonta, her tools, and her current captive before pocketing her camera in her utility belt and tapping the side of her cowl.

“Augury, this is Winggirl II,” the spy whispered into a hidden mic.  “I’ve located the source of the extra-dimensional energy, and it’s some speedster.”

“No sign of Ultragirl,” the voice on the other end sighed.  “All right, report back to base and we’ll start working out a rescue for our visitor.”

“Over and out,” Winggirl replied before cutting her comms.  She took one last look at Speed Demon and winced when she saw Tonta lick along her belly.  The time would come when she could help the captive speedster and everyone else, but it would be a while longer yet…

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10 minutes ago, Batman76 said:

Oh boy, I love me some altered memories and we got some not quite Cassandra Cain cameo...

Altered memories and superheroes go hand in hand, so it was only a matter of time before that trope made its way here.  And Not Cass (henceforth named Nass until further notice) has a lot of work ahead of her...

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FANG, THE BIMBO WONDER - PART 1

It was a cold autumn night in Cedar Oaks—the kind where a bitter wind blew in from the mountains and anyone of good sense was holed up in their homes.  But that was what separated Fang from the rest of the town: she was willing to brave any element in order to keep her town safe from the forces that sought to destroy it.  That evening was no exception, as she had received a tip about the Park Lane Bulls striking up a deal with the Paladin and his men.  It was a simple enough job, one that even she could handle without the Wolf’s help; if he saw her take down this crowd on her own, maybe he would finally give her the independence she sought.

“Ah, but do you really think you can handle such beastly thugs on your own?” a cold, hard voice asked from the shadows of the rooftop where Fang staked out her targets.

“Of course I can,” the young vigilante assured her companion as she watched the Bulls arrive.  “I took out some of the Northside Ninjas the other day; these clowns will be a piece of cake.”

“The other day?  The only fighting you did recently was finding a parking spot at the mall, if I recall,” the voice reminded Fang as it drew closer to her.  “You could do no more harm to them than a child, little cub—best you leave this to real heroes.”

Fang winced at that remark and a bloated feeling that filled her body, though she tried not to show how it affected her.  She kept her eye on the Bulls and retorted, “Okay, so I might have skipped a few training sessions recently, but at least I can screw up their trade-off with a few gadgets.  I’ve got smoke bombs, wolf claws, and even some jammers to make sure their guns lock up—beat that!”

“I don’t recall you having such gadgets,” said the voice, now hovering right by her shoulders.  “You traded them all for a smartphone with extra data for all those apps and games you like, right?  And I doubt you’d be able to take them out, even if it is the latest Universe.”

The remark earned a derisive snort from Fang.  “What are you talking about?  I’ve got a whole belt full of tech here, and…huh?”

When she reached down for her belt, the sidekick found that it was gone and replaced with a purse containing make-up, a wallet, and her phone—not a single weapon to be found.  That bloated feeling returned again, and her chest felt tight as the top of her tunic strained against a more generous bosom than she remembered.  Her leggings also felt constricting around her hips, and she chided herself for going soft recently.

“Like, whatever,” Fang grunted as she returned her attention to the deal.  “S’no problem: I’ll just, like, copy the plates off the truck and keep tabs on the fools that show up.  I’ve got a mind for this stuff, and I can describe them to the big guy when we get back to base.”

“Do you?  Because with all the TV you’ve been watching lately, I’d think that the only faces you’d recall are the latest housewives or eligible bachelors,” the voice hummed, a gravelly whisper in the vigilante’s ear as she struggled to keep track of everything.

Fang clapped her well-manicured hands over her ears and growled, “Like, shut up!  I can totally remember any face and name, dude!  I’m aces at this!”

“Then who is the gentleman in the armor?” asked the voice.

“That’s the Paladin, duh,” Fang answered with a roll of her eyes, sans domino mask.

“And the one beside him?  I believe that’s his second-in-command,” the voice said.  “If you got to him, you might be able to unravel the Paladin’s entire operation.”

“Bruh, I studied all night on this,” Fang snipped as she focused her sights on the bald thug beside the Paladin.  The more she thought about it though, the more his name escaped her—just like everyone else down at the meeting, save for the name villain.  “Okay, so, I think I tailed him to this grody bar a while back, and he had this total skank with him the whole time.  What’s that lame-o name?  I think it starts with an M or X.”

The voice clicked in mock pity before reaching out a hand and patting the sidekick on the shoulder.  Fang turned and found the voice to be the Gargoyle, but she did not react with revulsion as she should have, so foggy was her head in that moment.  The sinister psychologist shook his head and told her, “Poor cub…still thinking yourself the fighter, even though that is simply not who you are.  You’ve seen your mother and sister—you know that fate is just around the corner for you.”

“No, no, that’s not me.  I’m not going to be some fat, braindead bimbo,” Kristen whimpered, even though her tunic shrank into a halter top around her heavy breasts and her tights burst into short shorts thanks to her thunder thighs.  “I’m, like, a crimefighting badass!”

“If that’s the case, then let’s put that to the test,” the Gargoyle hissed like the serpent to Eve.  He turned and gestured further back on the rooftop to a veritable fast food feast that included all of Kristen’s three Bs—burgers, burritos, and barbeque.  “Would you rather test your mettle against those goons down below, or would you rather enjoy this bounty I’ve put together for you?”

It was hard to answer at first, as Kristen found herself drooling from the delicious aromas.  She wiped her lips and shook her head, clarity struggling to get through the haze in her mind.  “I…I shouldn’t.  I need to keep watch until Wolf gets here.”

“What if I told you that I have plenty of bling for you?” the devious villain sneered as he tossed rings, earrings, and necklaces to the heroine.

Kristen reached out for the jewelry, but the second it touched her, the accessories appeared on her body where they belonged.  Her eyes shimmered as she looked over all the sparkling gems and shiny gold that adorned her person, but she had to focus on the mission at hand.  She mumbled, “Like, this is so billy…I can’t, like, take all this.”

“And what if I told you that I have a 4K television with all streaming services active?” asked the Gargoyle as a media center materialized right beside the food—and at the center, a cushiony recliner.  “It has all your favorite romantic films lined up, just for you.”

She should have said no: Kristen liked something with a little art and creativity to it, not the sappy drivel that made prissy girls cry into their tissues.  But Krissy could not get enough of those films, and she waddled her way to the recliner with as much speed as her flabby legs could muster.  She happily plopped her wide backside into the chair, blissfully ignorant of how she almost spread out to the arms of the recliner, and kicked her pampered feet up.

“That’s much better,” the Gargoyle chuckled as he brought the food closer to Krissy.  “Isn’t this so much nicer than getting beaten up all the time, just for trying to be a good citizen?  Isn’t it easier to let yourself go and become a fat, clueless cow like the rest of society?”

“It’s pretty tops,” Krissy grunted around a mouthful of pulled pork, slowly losing interest in the conversation as Ryan Gosling appeared on-screen.  “Y’know what?  Screw crimefighting, bruh.  This is the life—like, I don’t care how fat I get, s’long as I can max and relax.”

“And you will, my little bimbo,” the Gargoyle hummed as he patted Krissy on the head, though she no longer paid him any attention.  “Your crimefighting days are a thing of the past: from now on, your life is only going to be about growing fatter and more oblivious day by day.”

As Krissy lay back in her recliner, alternating between a pulled pork sandwich, a cheeseburger, and a large soda wedged between her heavy breasts, she did not have a care in the world.  No more late nights getting her ass kicked, no more making her parents worry about how she got banged up…this was the life.  At least, it would have been if her movie was not interrupted by some twiggy nerd in a homemade superhero suit pounding on the screen and shouting something about getting back in shape.

“Stupid ads,” Krissy grunted as she turned changed the channel to something else before she could be reminded of what was missing in her life…

***

The chirping of her phone’s alarm clock roused Krissy from her deep sleep, and she sluggishly turned it off—‘sluggish’ being her standard speed nowadays.  She remembered a time when she used to wake up before the sun was even up and run a few miles, but that felt like a whole other life compared to her current routine.  Ever since she started taking her allergy medication, she was sleeping later and later into the day, with today’s being a few minutes shy of noon.  And who in their right mind would go running right after waking up?  What she wanted most now was a steamy shower and a big breakfast—technically lunch—to feel more put together.

As she rocked herself up to a sitting position and onto her feet, the bloated beauty readjusted her pajama shirt around her plump body.  It was a shirt featuring all her favorite cartoon characters, and it was baggy on her until just a month ago, falling past her hips.  Now, with how voluptuous she had grown, it had become a crop top that showed a generous amount of belly and emphasized the swell of her chest.  She had to be careful whenever she tried to get it to fit better, as tugging only made stitches pop under the sleeves and she had already spent so much on new clothes as is.

“Stupid growth spurts,” Krissy grumbled, even though she should have known better.

When she mustered the energy to stumble across the room, she paused partway to the door to check herself in the mirror—something she found herself doing a lot more often these days.  Ever since her revelation in the department store last month, the formerly modest girl had developed something of a narcissistic streak and checked her reflection frequently throughout the day.  She had to make sure that her make-up was still on point, something that never used to be a concern for her before, and she could not help but admire the curves she had developed.

It was hard to believe she ever had a boyish figure, as the woman that looked back at her had the curves of a classic starlet cranked up to 11.  A once petite chest had ballooned into softball-sized boobs practically overnight, and what was once an ass as flat as a pancake now had more Jell-O than J-Lo.  Even her lips looked fuller, giving Krissy a smoldering expression that would put many a femme fatale to shame.  The only downside she had seen thus far was the plump belly that sat at her waist, but she was sure that her tits did more than enough to distract from her muffin top.  And really, thicc was chic at the moment, right?

“Right,” Krissy agreed with herself as she struck several poses in the mirror.  “Like, it’s all about loving how you look—duh!”

Her self-aggrandizing was interrupted by her mother calling up the stairs, “Krissy, come on down for lunch!  I’m making your favorite—deluxe grilled cheese!”

Krissy squealed in delight at the mention of lunch and quickly waddled out of her room, the siren call of food now the only thing that made the zaftig girl hurry nowadays.  Where she used to be able to nimbly prance down the hall without making a single sound, she now sounded like a herd of elephants as her heavy footfalls banged on the floor.  It was amazing what a month of mind-warping drugs could do to a person, sapping the trained vigilante of years of experience in just a matter of days.  But then again, that was why even the most hardened criminals feared the psychopaths that called Cedar Oaks home—they were masters of their craft.

“Jebus, chegs, put some pants on,” Missy snorted at her baby sister as Krissy plodded over to the kitchen table.  “Don’t nobody wanna see all that jelly.”

“Don’t be hating, blubber butt,” Krissy taunted in turn.  “Nothing you ain’t seen before.”

“Krissy’s got a point, Missy,” Francesca hummed as she set lunch in front of her daughters.  “Like, it’s just us girls here—why not get comfy?”

Missy gave another piggish snort and put her phone down to eat.  “Don’t be billy, Mom.  You start going pants-free, and I’m splits.”

“More for me then,” Krissy teased as she snatched up a handful of potato chips and sprinkled them on her plate.

Francesca’s deluxe grilled cheese sandwiches were something to behold: triple-decker sandwiches, eight slices of American cheese, eight strips of bacon, two tomato slices (the only healthy thing on the dish), and an extra slice of cheese melted on top for good measure.  It was an extremely guilty pleasure that Krissy used to deny herself, but ever since she started to break away from the harsh training of the Wolf Pack, she was indulging more and more with each passing day.  That started at home with relishing in her mother’s decadent cooking, but soon spread to enjoying all the dishes she missed around town.  Nowadays, she could say that it had been a couple days since she had a burrito, not a couple months.

All that overindulgence would have bad even when she was still under the Wolf’s wing, but the fact that she was doping herself daily with the Gargoyle’s chemicals only escalated the process.  Food broke down much quicker for her, and since she was getting little to no exercise, it was turning straight into pillow flab.  She no longer looked like an athlete of any kind, despite being the best on the soccer team until she devoted herself to fighting crime.  If anything, Krissy looked like a cheerleader that had eaten herself out of her skirt and traded her pompoms for bonbons.

“Gawd, your food is aces, Mom,” Krissy cooed around a mouthful of grilled cheese before freezing to plug her nose from a sneeze.

“Like, bless you,” Francesca replied in between bites of her own sandwich.  “You’ve totally been sneezing a lot more lately, girl—like, are your allergies getting worse?”

Krissy was about to answer before another sneeze silenced her.  She told her mother that she was taking new allergy medication a while back, though neither could remember the doctor prescribing anything for her.  The reason was that the Gargoyle had given them to Krissy when she was hypnotized, but that memory was locked away deep in the recesses of her mind.

“That’s some balls allergies, chegs,” Missy remarked.  “Best you get some medi up in you.”

“Your sister’s super right, Krissy,” her mother added.  “It’s, like, better if you get ahead of this before it gets any worse, y’know?”

“I guess,” Krissy mumbled through her meal.  She hated the idea that she was getting sick the summer before she went off to school—especially since she was finally enjoying her summer vacation for the first time in years.  Maybe if she upped the dosage on her medication, that would help her nip this in the bud before it got worse…

***

While the Laree women gorged themselves on a cheesy, greasy lunch, the Wolf and the Jackal were comparing notes about the former Fang and the stark change she had gone through over the last month.  They knew that she had been in the clutches of the Gargoyle for a little under an hour before the Wolf rescued her, but they had no clear explanation for how she could have done a complete 180-degree turn in personality and appearance.  Jackal had tried to get some information from her at a recent Fourth of July part, but she rebuffed him and ignored his texts from the last three days.  It was a mystery that was going nowhere fast, and the two detectives were stumped.

“Any leads on where the Gargoyle might be, Will?” asked Jackal as he pored over his notes.  “I’ve been using all my connections and come up with nothing.”

“He’s gone quiet since Fang’s abduction.  No one’s willing to talk, either because he paid them or they’re too hypnotized to recall,” the Wolf sighed, running his fingers through his graying hair.  “We checked Kristen for every sign of hypnosis when we got her back to the Den, but all the tests came back negative.  Either he’s gotten even better with his technique, or we’re chasing the wrong lead.”

Jackal put a hand on his mentor’s shoulder and gave him an affirming squeeze.  “We’ll figure this out, one way or the other.  I’ll get back to base and see if I can’t cast another net—keep me posted if you hear anything from She-Wolf and Black Dog, okay?”

The Wolf gave his protégé a nod and saw him off before returning to his computer to analyze everything about that night to find what he had missed.  Like so many other things in his life, he blamed himself for what happened to Kristen; if he not pushed her away for her own good, he could have kept a closer eye on her for any signs of change.  Now, she had blocked just about every member of the Wolf Pack and shed any aspect of her old life in favor of a more comfortable and lazier lifestyle.  That would have been fine if she had chosen it for herself, but knowing the Gargoyle was the cause made the grizzled hero sick to his stomach.

“I’m going to fix this, Kristen—no, Fang,” the Wolf promised as he delved into his research again.

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9 minutes ago, Batman76 said:

Oh shit, I realized that the reference in the last chapter was going back to your very first capes and cuisines! That it was wing girl, not fang!

 

And geeze, this seems like quite the issue for her...

Get the man a cigar!  Yes, that was a new version of Winggirl--the protege of the one that went after Ultragirl and had to go through the Fool's bakery traps.

And if you think this is an issue now, just you wait as she doubles up on her 'meds'...

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28 minutes ago, Cyril Figgis said:

Get the man a cigar!  Yes, that was a new version of Winggirl--the protege of the one that went after Ultragirl and had to go through the Fool's bakery traps.

And if you think this is an issue now, just you wait as she doubles up on her 'meds'...

Hence Wing Girl 2 having a closed face mask...

 

Oh yeah, can't let get allergies get bad....

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  • 2 weeks later...

((Sorry for the delay, folks, but the last couple of days have had me laid up with medical issues.  As thanks for your patience, I present the next chapter in the ever-ditzier Fang's adventures!))

FANG, THE BIMBO WONDER - PART 2

On her mother and sister’s suggestion that she start upping her dosage of allergy medication, Krissy took twice the recommended dose the following day in hopes of kicking her supposed allergies to the curb.  When she did not see any results by the end of the day, she decided that twice the daily dose was not enough—it had to be three times as much to fight these nasty allergies.  If she were in a clear state of mind, she would have realized that this was nowhere near as helpful as she thought, nor would allergy medication fight a summer cold.  Alas, Krissy was far from a clear state of mind, and with the tripled dose of Gargoyle’s mind-altering meds, she only slipped further into a haze.

It began with a jump in her appetite, which was no slouch to begin with but became even worse when the ditzy girl increased her medication.  While she ate plenty before, she was now so hungry that she ate almost the whole day long, even waking up in the middle of the night for a ‘snack’ that would have once constituted a whole lunch for herself.  Krissy could plow through an entire pack of S’moreos and still have room for one of her mother’s hearty meals; even that plus dessert proved to not be strong enough, as she would only wind up getting another snack after dinner too.  Her belly was greedy before, but the former vigilante had become a veritable black hole in record time.

Of course, that void was not limited to her stomach, as Krissy’s attention span and deep thinking took a hard hit as well.  While she was ultimately as smart as she was before, she found it much easier to just let her mind mellow rather than strain itself.  Why bother keeping track of all those useless formulas and algorithms she learned in math class when there was no useful application for them in her day to day life?  Why watch some boring movie that used metaphors and subtlety when she could watch something that was shallow as a kiddie pool?  Even her taste in music changed, drifting away from somber melodies from poetic songwriters to bubblegum pop that topped the charts.  These were all huge red flags, but Krissy found herself unable to care about her rapidly changing tastes in everything.

A huge reason for that sense of ease was that she was getting along with her mother and sister for the first time in a long while.  Though Krissy never had the same vitriolic relationship with Missy that she had with Francesca, it became harder for mother and daughter to relate to each other as Krissy developed tastes in hobbies that Francesca never saw the appeal in.  She loved her daughter, really, but their tastes were simply the opposite of each other.  That all seemed to be a part of the past now, as Krissy eagerly joined in at mealtime, movie time, and shopping time.

With such a warm pair of unintentional enablers, it was far too easy for Krissy to let go of the past and embrace this new lifestyle.  No longer asking questions meant that everything someone told her made sense, as it was easier than accepting a hard, bitter truth.  If she could not make a decision in time, it was just because she had a lot on her mind; if she outgrew another pair of jeans, it was just because she was going through a late growth spurt.  Her mother had an answer for everything, which seemed good in the moment for the ditzy girl but led to consequences she failed to consider.

One of those moments came when the Laree women went out to lunch at their favorite sandwich shop and, while Francesca and Missy chose their sizeable meals with ease, Krissy was left staring blankly at the menu.  She could read just fine—the problem was that everything looked too good for the thickening girl.  Did she want the BBQ Cuban, the meatball, or the steak and cheese?  And for that matter, what side should she get: loaded potato soup, chili, or mac and cheese?  Even dessert was a conundrum, since there were three different kinds of cookies and even brownies to consider!  With so many decisions to make, how was one girl expected to make up her mind so quickly?

“Ma’am, I don’t want to rush you, but we do have a line building up,” the cashier reminded Krissy, doing his best not to chew out the heavyset bimbo or stare at her ample cleavage.

“Like, gimme a sec, ‘kay?  S’not my fault you’ve got so many good eats,” Krissy huffed before returning her attention to the menu.

The reception behind the Larees was not much better, as people tapped their feet and checked their watches to see how much longer this would take.  One of the customers, an old woman, shook her head at how much skin Krissy was showing off in her low-rise jeans and top that was little more than a handkerchief.  Of course, considering that the mother looked like that Drescher hussy and the older sister was oozing out of a tiny track suit, it was no wonder the girl was allowed to walk around in such a tacky outfit.  With how much pork that ditzy girl was packing, getting lunch should have been the last thing on her mind.

“Krissy, hon, just pick whatever you want,” Francesca told her daughter.  “Anything you can’t finish, we’ll just, like, bring home for dinner!”

“All right, all right,” Krissy sighed, tired of being pushed around.  She told the cashier, “Like, could I get a large BBQ Cuban, large steak and cheese, a cup of the mac and cheese, cup of chili, and a chocolate chip cookie, oatmeal cookie, peanut butter cookie and brownie?”

The cashier fought the urge to roll his eyes and instead asked, “You want to make those sandwiches combos?  They come with chips and a drink.”

Unfortunately, that just started the cycle of studying all over again, as Krissy had forgotten all about chips.  It took Missy picking out chips for her to break the pattern, and while Krissy initially whined about not getting to choose, she had to admit that her sister had good taste.  From there, the Laree women gorged on their ample lunches, filling their bellies to the brim—with the exception of Krissy, who wolfed down her lunch in full and still felt peckish.  Thankfully for everyone else in the restaurant, she was too lazy to go back up in line and order something, so her mother made do by buying a bag of pretzels and chips at the gas station on the way back.

Of course, it was not just her general emptyheaded behavior that caused trouble for the poor porker.  Much as she tried to spin her new body as thick, womanly, and voluptuous, she failed to keep in mind just how awkward it was to be dealing with curves four times what she was used to.  It would have been one thing if she had grown into them over time, perhaps over the course of her college career, but getting so hourglassy over the span of two months left her struggling.  Krissy grew used to constantly upgrading her wardrobe, especially since it gave her a chance to visit the mall, but there were little things that proved a hassle.  She had to watch how she walked, lest she bump into things or people, and be mindful of small chairs—one of which she found herself wedged in near the tail end of July.

They were at the Arboretum—Missy’s favorite theater since they always gave slightly bigger snacks—to see the latest romcom, something Krissy abhorred until recently.  It was such a sweet and adorable movie though, and she found herself wondering why she ever preferred those old, boring movies that took forever to get to the point.  When the boy finally got the girl in the end and they kissed under the Paris lights, Krissy actually had to borrow a tissue from her mother to wipe away the tears that streaked down her chubby cheeks.  Unfortunately, that was where the fun ended, as she noticed something when she tried to get up from her seat.

“WTF?” Krissy asked aloud as she tried to extract herself from her seat.  No matter how much she wriggled around though, the bloated girl found herself wedged between the arms.  “Mom, can you give me a hand?  This biznitch is tight as a mofo.”

“Language, Krissy,” Francesca chided her daughter.  “Like, I can see if that cute little usher could help get you out.”

“Ch’yeah, right,” Missy snorted.  “Bet chegs is acting all billy just so her mon comes running, shining armor-like.”

Krissy crossed her arms under her heavy chest, soccer ball breasts pushed up and out, and grunted, “Whatevs, Missy.  You’re just jelly that he was totally checking me out when I was getting my popcorn.  Like, can’t blame him for having taste.”

Missy’s piggish nostrils flared at that and she stomped over to her baby sister like an angry cow, only to grab hold of Krissy’s arm rests and lift them up as intended.  She sneered, “There—guess your meet-cute is aces now, chegs.  Swear you’re getting mad empty up top.”

Francesca flicked her oldest daughter on the head and chided her, “Grow up, Missy.  Your sister, like, just has a lot on her plate right now.  And maybe they were just, like, sticky for her—right, Krissy?”

Krissy mumbled something in agreement but the blush on her cheeks said otherwise.  She could not believe that she had forgotten how the arm rests folded up at this theater!  Thank goodness her sister was so clever, otherwise she would have looked like a complete fool in front of that hunky usher.  Maybe there was some truth to what Missy said, but any thoughts that something was wrong were dashed when she smelled fresh popcorn at the snack stand.  The former vigilante waddled out of the theater while munching on a full bag, glad she thought ahead to order the extra large with free refills.  She was so smart sometimes!

***

To say that Tanisha Dillard and Kristen Laree never got along would be an understatement.  While they were both legacy heroes—Tanisha being the third Wolf-Girl and Kristen being the sixth Fang—that was all they had in common.  Kristen was a tomboy through and through, while Tanisha reveled in being a diva; where Kristen tried to be practical and sensible, Tanisha lived lavishly and loudly.  When they fought crime, Kristen preferred to let her fists do the thinking while Tanisha held back to better analyze the situation, which irritated the hotheaded Fang to no end.  They bickered constantly, going back and forth with barbs about the other until their mentors inevitably put their foot down.

That was why it was so strange to see Tanisha, garbed in her white and indigo uniform, climbing up to Krissy’s bedroom window.  The overfed undergrad was snuggled up in a beanbag chair that she was starting to outgrow, watching a saucy video from her favorite make-up YouTuber, when she was alerted to the vigilante right outside.  Her eyes went wide and she tried to get up from her comfy seat, but there was no hope of escaping in time before her least favorite member of the Wolf Pack crept in.

“Relax, relax, I’m not here to be a bitch,” Tanisha told Krissy as she cracked the window open.  “I’m just checking in on everyone since I got back into town, and Phil told me about what happened with you and the big guy.  How are you holding up?”

“Just chillin’ like a villain,” Krissy replied, settling back into her chair since there was no way she would be able to thwart her intruder.  She popped a piece of caramel corn in her mouth and asked, “Like, how were things in Arabia?”

“Aruba, you mean,” Tanisha corrected her fellow sidekick while climbing in her room.  She carried a small duffel bag with her, which she set gently on the floor before slipping in completely.  “But it was good—feels great to step away from crimefighting now and then, you know?”

“Totes.  What’s in the bag?” asked a curious Krissy, eyes darting from her laptop to the satchel, from which emanated a delectable aroma.

Once she dusted off her costume, Tanisha opened the bag to reveal a few boxes of donuts from Duncan’s Donuts—the best spot in Cedar Oaks.  She cracked open one of the boxes and answered, “I figured it’s been a while since we caught up, so I brought us some snacks.  Want some?”

“OMG, yas,” Krissy snorted, much like her older sister.  She reached her greedy fingers into the box, pulled two of the glazed delights, and crammed one in her mouth in the blink of an eye.  A giggle came from her lips as she remarked, “Like, these are so bad for me, but a little jelly never hurt nobody.”

“Amen, sister,” Tanisha replied as she set the box next to Krissy.  “Besides, you’re looking good for being benched.  Been working out on the side?”

Krissy rolled her eyes and swallowed just enough donut to be able to answer, “Ugh, no way.  I’m, like, so done with exercise; sweating is so not fetch.  Besides, this is my last summer break before I go to college, so, like, why waste time working out when I could relax?”

If only the formerly fit vigilante could see the damage her relaxing had done, she might have been singing a different tune, but Tanisha was not about to break the illusion.  The Wolf-Girl was too mesmerized by how her rival had grown over the last two months, developing curves that dwarfed her own and looking more like the Venus of Willendorf than Fang, the Girl Wonder.  It did not help that she was clad in very simple clothes—a tank top that exposed a mile of cleavage and shorts that might as well have been bikini briefs on her hips.  There was so much tan skin on display, and Tanisha could not help but lick her lips as she watched it quiver when Krissy shifted around.

“Like, what were we talking about?” asked the dazed ditz as she licked her fingers clean, which only served to distract Tanisha further.

When she finally snapped out of her trance, Tanisha answered, “You were asking me if I had any more donuts!  Good thing I brought extras, just in case that little box wasn’t enough.”

Krissy should have been full by that point, but between not paying attention to how much she ate and the smell of donuts, she could not resist.  She wiggled her hands at Tanisha, who offered the box to her without a second’s thought, and squealed, “These are totes delish, but I should really, like, cut back.  Can you believe that I got stuck in a chair the other day?  So embarrassing.”

Anyone with eyes could believe that the bloated bimbo had gotten wedged in a chair, since those hips of hers kept her hands from resting at her side.  Tanisha never thought she would say this, but she actually missed being around Krissy—she would have loved to have seen all that blubber wobbling around, especially if she tried to squeeze into her uniform.  It was so easy to watch the once athletic girl eat herself further into obesity, but the still active sidekick remembered that she had a job to do outside of distracting Krissy.

“I can’t get over how good you look, Kristen,” Tanisha told her former rival, only playing it up a little.  “You’re the picture of health—what’s your secret?”

“I ‘unno,” Krissy grunted around a mouthful of fried dough.  “I’ve got these allergy meds that are aces; I should’ve tried them years ago.”

Tanisha managed to tear her gaze away from the ribbon of belly flab peeking out of Krissy’s tank top and glanced around for signs of these pills.  She scanned the room until her eyes fell on an orange prescription bottle and she asked, “The ones on your nightstand?”

“Ch’yeah,” Krissy answered, too caught up in her donuts to pay her guest much mind.  “You should, like, get yourself some—your head will be clear like OMG!”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” Tanisha muttered under her breath.  If the pills did what she thought they did, she imagined that the former Fang’s head was plenty clear.  She picked up the bottle and peered in to find that there were only a few pills left, which gave her a good idea of how to sneak them out.  “Y’know, you’re almost out.  Want me to stop by the pharmacy and pick up a refill?”

Krissy nodded, unaware that Tanisha had no way of knowing what pharmacy she used.  “That’d be tubular, Tanni.  Could you pick up some chocolate while you’re there?”

“Of course,” the Wolf-Girl fibbed.  Much as she would have loved to seen how much Krissy could put away, she had places to be and mysteries to solve—chief of which being what happened to her rival.  “I’ll be back a little later, ‘kay?”

“’Kay,” Krissy answered, scarfing down the last donut in the box before peering into Tanisha’s bag and spying the other boxes.  She nibbled at her lip and she looked to her fellow hero for approval, which she received with a light nod.

“Have as much as you want, Kristen,” Tanisha said with a small smile.  “After all, a few donuts can’t do much harm.”

A few donuts, no, but this was not a few donuts—a few dozen was more accurate.  Tanisha ducked out the window to a chorus of ravenous eating and porcine snorting, and she cursed herself for not setting up some kind of camera to monitor the situation in the room.  But duty called, and much as she wanted to stay and watch the overfed girl eat herself out of those tight clothes, she needed to take care of this ‘allergy medication’.

“Wolf, it’s me,” Wolf-Girl said through the comms in her cowl.  “I stopped by Fang’s house and picked up some allergy meds she’s been taking—think we might have an answer on why she’s changed.”

Her boss replied in his usual gravelly tone, “Good work.  Head on back to the den and we’ll analyze the pills to see if we can’t find a way to counteract them.”

She would never admit this out loud, but Tanisha almost wished they were not able to find a cure for whatever the Gargoyle had done to Kristen.  Not that she really hated her rival, but seeing her looking like an overinflated blow-up doll was making her heart race something fierce…

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FANG, THE BIMBO WONDER - PART 3

When Krissy woke up the following morning, she reached for her allergy medication but found that it was not in its usual place on her nightstand.  Curious, as it was the one thing she had been able to keep on top of as her attention waned over the last several weeks, and now she could not recall what happened with the bottle.  If she tried jogging her memory, she might have remembered Wolf-Girl stopping by and promising to pick up a refill for her, but the only thing she remembered was the donut binge.  Even then, the only way she was able to remember that was how the pink boxes still lined her floor and her laptop’s keyboard carried specks of glaze.

“Like, whatever,” Krissy muttered to herself as she plodded to the bathroom.  “Missy prob nabbed it ‘cause she’s billy like that.  I’ll just, like, make a note for myself or something.”

Fortunately for her mental state, the ditzy dame forgot all about her medication in a few minutes—one of the few perks of having the attention span of a gnat.  Her mind drifted back to its usual malaise as she made her way downstairs for a late breakfast with her mother and sister, and she only remembered her lack of medication when she passed by her nightstand throughout the day.  She promised herself each time that she would try looking for her medicine, only to inevitably forget and go about her day.

Quitting anything cold turkey is not easy on the body, and that is doubly so for mind-altering drugs cooked up by a supervillain.  As such, Krissy found the next few days to be absolutely unbearable as the gears started turning in her mind and her bottomless appetite began to run out.  Having her cognitive faculties working properly for the first time in weeks gave her terrible headaches, and she alternated between eating like a beast to not eating at all.  Francesca, oblivious to the real cause of her daughter’s ill health, chalked it up to her nonexistent allergies and gave her some medicine to help, but Claritin did nothing for the bulbous bimbo.  The only thing that would help was being developed in the Wolf Den and was still a few weeks out from being ready.

Then, on Friday morning, she woke up without pain or a growling stomach for the first time in days.  Kristen rolled over onto her side with all the grace of a seal and gazed blearily at her cell phone to find that it was 6:30 AM—the earliest she had been up since June.  She tried shutting her eyes again and going back to sleep, but her mind was already alert and ready to go, leaving her no choice but to roll out of bed.  It was an act that seemed much more sluggish than she remembered, but she chalked that up to her being so tired.

“Like, a jog oughta help,” Kristen mumbled to herself, ignorant to how little exercise she had done in the last several weeks.

She blindly rummaged around for her shoes in the dark, then turned on her lamp when she failed to find them, but no amount of illumination would help her locate her sneakers.  If she thought hard enough, she would remember that they were chucked out with a bunch of her old clothes that no longer fit or were not stylish enough.  Such recall was still beyond the groggy girl however, and she decided to continue the search after she freshened up a little.

The trip to the bathroom was awkward and clumsy, and Kristen nearly knocked over the ship in a bottle that sat on the hall table when she waddled past.  On top of feeling off-balance, she felt like there was some heavy weight on her, like she was wearing a bunch of weighted clothes for training.  Perhaps she had a fever sapping her strength, but since a quick forehead test revealed no sign of issues, she continued her trek to the bathroom for a thermometer in addition to water.  It would be a shame to be sick so early into her summer break, especially since she did not have Wolf Pack activities anymore.

A few splashes of cold water on the face helped wake her up, even if she did find that her face was a little puffy to the touch.  After drying off her face, Kristen turned to leave, only to freeze and check back in the mirror again to make sure she was not seeing things.  Her reflection was supposed to have a sandy blonde bob, sharp cheeks, and a lean body hardened by years of training and vigilantism, but the girl that looked back at her could not have been any different.

It started with her hair, which had been dyed a neon orange like some kind of ‘glow in the dark’ carrot and reminded her of the retro emo bands she liked in middle school.  Those sharp cheeks were swallowed by jolly jowls that hid any definition and buried her chin under a thick ring of fat that quivered when she poked it.  But her body…oh, her poor, poor body.  Kristen started her career as the Fang with a gangly, scrawny body; by the time she graduated high school, she had become tight and toned with abs that could grate cheese.  She would have gladly gone back to being a beansprout if it meant getting rid of all the flab that coated her muscles now.

Her arms, which she loved to flaunt whenever she could, were so full of jiggly flab that when Kristen gave her bicep a flick, it took a few seconds to stop quivering.  Those same abs that were on proud display each summer, had ballooned into a bubbly gut that was big enough to sit on the sink on in its own.  Trembling with worry and panic, she ran her hands over her thighs in search of muscle but found only ample acreage of pliable pudge as she squeezed along the pillars of lard.  She reluctantly continued her exploration by reaching back and grabbing a handful of her flabby booty, wincing when she realized that one cheek alone was more than both her hands could take.

That only left one area left to explore—the part that she might have enjoyed if not for everything else.  Kristen hated being so meager in the chest, as it often made people think she was a boy even on the occasions where she wore skirts and dresses.  Part of her rivalry with Wolf-Girl was predicated on the fact that Tanisha had a hefty bosom and a modelesque physique while Kristen had a boyish charm about her.  No one could call her boyish anymore though, now that her breasts had grown to the size of watermelons and gave her a mile of cleavage.  To her amazement, the former vigilante found that they were quite heavy, to the point that she actually struggled to lift them up.  It should have been a dream come true, but she found that it was little more than a nightmare.

“Like, this doesn’t make any sense,” Kristen muttered to herself as she paced around the bathroom, heavy feet plodding along without her even realizing.  “I was so not this thicc when I went to bed, so I don’t know WTF is going on and…wait, what am I saying?”

Gawd, she sounded so much like her sister and mother in that moment, which was grody to the max—and she had to slap herself in the face when she realized she was thinking that way too.  Kristen tried to jog her memory for some answer to all this, but even though she had regained some of her mental faculties, there were a good many still hidden in a thick fog in her mind.  Little snippets of the past two months ran through her head, showcasing a summer spent lazing around and stuffing her face, but there was nothing concrete coming to her.

“I’ve totes gotta call Will,” she decided.  “Like, he’ll know what to do.”

Before Kristen could go back to her room and grab her phone, her mother sleepily wandered up to the bathroom and blocked the door.  Francesca yawned, “Krissy, girl, what are you doing stomping around so early?  It’s, like, shaking the house.”

“Sorry, Mom,” Kristen apologized, though she squirmed on the inside when her mom called her that nickname.  “Like, I just couldn’t sleep, I guess.”

“How about some breakfast?” Francesca asked, not waiting for an answer before waddling back down the hall.  “You’re a growing girl, and you totally need to eat and keep your strength up.”

She wanted to say no, but Kristen’s stomach betrayed her and let out a low rumble to signal its need for a heavy breakfast.  With a sigh, the lardy girl nodded and followed after her mother, promising herself that she would make a beeline for the Wolf Den as soon as she ate; the last thing she needed was to stuff herself with even more calories that would go towards her hefty body.  Unfortunately, a big plate of eggs, bacon, and French toast was just what the doctor ordered to help her back to sleep, and Kristen spent the next few hours back in bed a little heavier than when she woke up.

***

The trip over to Doigt Lodge was an awkward and uncomfortable one, as it had been two months and almost 200 pounds since Kristen last rode her trusty scooter anywhere, but she was determined to do it rather than take the easy route.  After spending the last two months in a haze, she needed something to keep her in the moment, and if shame in how soft and flabby she had become was it, then she would drive around the world if need be.  Her body quaked and quivered in time with her puttering motor, and she attracted more than her share of attention with how much she bounced when she hit so much as a pebble.  It was humiliating, but Kristen was willing to weather it if it meant staying cognizant of her predicament.

That courage dipped when she arrived at Will’s home, as she knew the first person to greet her would be Julia Worthington—the caretaker of the house and the sharpest tongue in the world.  She was able to pierce even the stoniest heart, having made some of the worst offenders in Cedar Oaks turn into simpering children with but a word.  While she normally held back her biting tongue when it came to the Wolf Pack, she was not above ribbing the team, especially to prove a point.  Kristen was not sure she could take a Worthington barb at that moment—not when she was still so unsure of what had happened to her and how uncomfortable everything felt.

It felt like an eternity waiting for Julia to answer the door, and Kristen spent the entire time fidgeting with her clothes in an effort to get them to fit better.  Finding out that her entire wardrobe had been swapped out for something much showier and trashier than she preferred was the third worst thing to happen that morning, and she did her best to scramble together an outfit that hid her abundant fluff.  The best she could manage was tracksuit that still clung to her like white on rice and left a sliver of stomach exposed, but it was better than the booty shorts and tiny tank top she woke up in.  Even though the dead heat of August beat down on her, she refused to unzip her top for a second, lest she show off the mammoth curves she had developed.

Finally, the door opened and revealed the imposing figure of Julia Worthington, who looked more like a bodyguard than a caretaker.  She was pushing 60 and had the wrinkles to prove it, but underneath her business blouse and slacks was a body that could still break people a fraction of her age.  There was a brief moment—when her steely eyes peered over Kristen—that the curvy teen worried she was in for a tongue lashing, but it never came.  Instead, the beleaguered Julia opened her arms and wrapped Kristen in a hug, sweat be damned.

“I was wondering when you’d come back,” the older woman hummed in a matronly way.  “Let’s get you on in and fix you something cool to drink, shall we?”

“Really?”  Kristen sniffled, happy to take the win but nervous all the same.  “You’re not going to, like, make fun of me for getting all fat and junk?”

Julia gave her a rare, warm smile and tapped the former sidekick on the nose as she answered, “I wouldn’t dream of it, dear.  Now, I’ve got some words about that fashion sense of yours, but I’ll save that until we’ve got this whole mess sorted out.”

God, she missed this place, and Kristen expressed that by wrapping Julia up in another hug—the only way she could express it without breaking into tears.  The two ventured into the depths of Doigt Lodge, stopping by the kitchen to get a tall glass of water for Kristen, and made their way to the hidden elevator behind the fire place in the den.  The lift brought them down to the caverns beneath William’s ancestral home, where he had established his crimefighting base of operations many years ago.  Though the team had changed several times over the years and trophies of battles past were added or lost with time, it still felt like home.

Seated in front of a row of monitors was the Wolf himself, tirelessly pouring over research that made little sense to Kristen, even if she had been in her right state of mind.  It was only when Julia announced her presence with a cough that he realized he was not alone, and when he turned to greet them, he had the same elated face Kristen’s father did whenever he returned from a business trip.  This time, she could not hold back the tears as she trotted over to her mentor and hugged him so tight that he would need a crowbar to remove her.  Not that he did, as William patted her on the back and rocked her gently as the anxiety she had been feeling all morning was released.

“It’s all right, Kristen, it’s all right,” he consoled her, patting her head as she cried into his shirt.  “We’re going to figure this out together—the whole Pack.”

It took a bit for Kristen to compose herself, but the trio eventually sat down to look over the Wolf’s notes as he explained everything: how he had Phil drop by to check in on her, how he had other members of the team searching for Gargoyle, and how he had Tanisha swipe the last of the drugs so he could analyze them.  William was already an expert chemist, and years of dealing with the likes of Mr. Friendly, Rafflesia, and the Gargoyle made him a genius in the field.  Though he was still breaking down the drugs that Tanisha swiped, he was close to finding something that could counteract the effects.

“The only other option would be to let them run out of your system, but I don’t want to make you wait longer than you need to,” William explained.  “While we’re working this out and tracking down the Gargoyle, I’ve thought of some ways we can ease you back into things.”

“Like, I get to be back on the team?  That’s aces!” Kristen cheered before sitting back down and clearing her throat.  “I mean…that’s great, if you’ll have me.”

William chuckled and answered, “You can come by the Den whenever you’re able, and we’ll work on some mental and physical exercises to help counteract whatever these pills did to you.  We can’t risk you going back out in the field any time soon, but we’ll use this time until you go back to school to get you closer to get you back to normal.”

“But more than anything, we want you to enjoy the rest of your summer break, love,” Julia added.  “I know this is a lot for you right now, but don’t let this weigh down on you; we’re going to make sure you’re taken care of.”

Kristen nodded and sniffled back a fresh batch of tears.  There were rumors, jokes, and debates made about how heartless and cold the Wolf Pack were, but if they could only see how supportive they were behind closed doors, folks would be singing a different tune.  She gave her mentors a smile and replied, “I’ll do my best.  Like, more than anything, I just wish I didn’t sound like my sister.”

***

Adjusting to life after coming off the Gargoyle’s drugs was not easy, even though Kristen was doing everything she could to recover.  All the tests William and Julia had her run were bound to help her, but each day ended with her completely exhausted in body and mind.  At least her taste in music and movies was coming back to her, and she could finally get around to watching some of the independent films that had released over the last few months.  Things were starting to get back to normal, slowly but surely, and while she was happy about that, there were some things she would miss.

“Krissy?  Like, aren’t you going to watch ‘This Is Them’ with us tonight?” Francesca asked as she poked her head into her daughter’s room.

“Can’t, Mom,” Kristen answered as she held up a book and fibbed, “I need to catch up on some summer reading I totally forgot about.”

Her mother grew solemn at that but nodded and replied, “Okay, well, I’ll make sure to save it so, like, you can watch it whenever.”

That was so unlike her mother, who normally tried harder to get her to join in on stuff.  Kristen wiggled into a sitting position and asked, “Everything okay, Mom?”

Francesca bit her lip as she tried to find the right answer before finally answering, “I’m fine, sweetie.  It’s just, like, we’ve had so much fun this summer, and I start to think about how you’re going off to school soon and…ugh, gag me with a spoon, I’m not good at this.”

Kristen could have slapped herself at that moment.  Once the fog cleared from her mind and she found out how much time she had been spending with her mother and sister over the summer, she retreated back to her comfort zone and pretended she was above all that.  But it was not so easy to forget how much fun she had with them, especially when even Missy asked if she would join in on shopping or watching a movie.  Julia had said that she should enjoy the last few weeks at home before she left for university; she could afford to stomach another night of soap operas if it meant snacking and laughing with her family.

“You know what?  This book is billy anyway,” Kristen hummed as she set the novel down.  “I’d love to join in, just so long as you’ve got the popcorn.”

Before they could enjoy the show though, Missy called out from the den, “Oh, bogus!  Special news bulletins are so lame. ‘Villain alert’, my ass.”

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FANG, THE BIMBO WONDER - PART 4

Kristen and Francesca waddled into the den to see Missy flipping through the channels, and it took wrestling the remote from her to get back to the original newscast.  The family was greeted to a report on Little Miss Giggles on one of her typical joyrides, causing a ruckus around town and driving the police crazy trying to catch her.  While she was far less homicidal than her father and acted more like a diva than a supervillain, Giggles had proven herself to be a handful to the Wolf Pack time and time again with her antics.  She was actually the first villain Kristen had fought when she took on the Fang identity, and the impish fiend was the closest to a nemesis she had in the business because of that.

Old habits died hard, and Kristen felt her blood rush at the thought of wiping the smile off Little Miss Giggles’ face all over again.  When she turned around so she could return to her room and change into her costume though, she bumped into a side table and knocked a picture over—courtesy of her ridiculously wide hips.  It hit her like a ton of bricks then, that no matter how much she wanted to get out into the field, she was nowhere near ready for the job.  Her mind was feeling sharper by the day and her spirit was certainly willing, but her body was still encumbered with a couple hundred pounds of useless flab that quivered when she made the slightest movement.  Going out to face any sort of criminal now would be a death sentence, let alone the daughter of Cedar Oaks’ Public Enemy #1.

And yet, what was she to do?  Most of the Pack was out of town in search of the Gargoyle, and if Giggles was out, then her father was likely up to no good and required the Wolf’s attention.  Someone who knew her needed to take her down, and who better than her biggest enemy?  It would not be easy, but if she stuck to her training, Kristen knew that she could do it.  The Wolf had brought her onboard because of her tenacity, after all, and she was going to prove that she deserved this second chance.

“Like, this is awful,” Francesca remarked as she sat down beside Missy and munched on a bowl of popcorn sat between their mattress thighs.  “I don’t, like, condone violence on children, but that little girl is such a brat that she totally has a spanking coming.”

“Girl is mad billy, for sure,” Missy snorted.  “Gots to be if you’re down with a creep like Mr. Friendly.  Hey, chegs, didn’t she ace your school once?  Chegs?”

Mother and daughter were too distracted by the events on TV to realize that Kristen had already retreated to the sanctity of her bedroom, where she hoped she had something of a costume left that she could wear.  When she finally came to her senses earlier that week, she had discovered that a good number of clothes she remembered having were gone—donated to a thrift store or thrown out when she tore through them with her thickening curves.  There had to be something she could wear that would help identify her as Fang, even if it was just an outfit in the same colors.

Then, after digging through her closet, she found it—her old tunic.  It was the same, familiar mustard yellow that she had idolized since she was a kid, and she clutched it to her plump chest like a dear friend.  Unfortunately, Kristen did not need to try putting it on to know it would not fit around her enhanced frame, since it was made for a girl far smaller than her.  When confronted with this part of herself though, she was not going to give up without trying, and Kristen set about donning her dynamic duds once more.

She managed to get the tunic closed around her neck, which was a great first step in her book, but her progress was halted when she reached the buckles that went down the front.  The first closed without much problem, as did the second, but the third proved to be nigh on impossible to snap shut when confronted by her jelly belly.  Try as she might to suck in her gut, there was no way for her to close the gap once more, which left the underside of her bra exposed to the world and her entire belly jutting out for all to see.

“This is, like, so not cool,” Kristen grumbled to herself as she looked herself over in the mirror.  She had a hard time accepting that the voluptuous vixen in the mirror was her, and no amount of posing made her feel any less of a fat fool.  Going out to fight crime like this was all but suicide, but her want to help outweighed her fear of the consequences; besides, there were worse ways to go out than looking like a chunky clubber.

There was just one more thing she needed to do before she left, and she picked up her Wolf Pack communicator to reach out to her mentor.  Kristen fiddled with the device for a moment and composed her thoughts before clicking the device on.  “Wolf, this is Fang.  I know you’re probably busy trying to track down Friendly and Giggles, but I wanted to let you know that I’ve got you covered.  I think I’ve got a plan—I just hope that it works…”

***

“Shit, shit, shit—this is never going to work,” Kristen muttered to herself as she found herself sat in the passenger seat of her archenemy’s car.

Her plan was a fairly simple one, if open-ended: since she was virtually unrecognizable, even with the remnants of her costume that she had managed to wear, she would snag a ride with Little Miss Giggles and keep her distracted from causing any mayhem.  The trick was to think like the diabolical ditz, and while that might have been a challenge from Kristen once upon a time, it was far easier now that she had a few months experience.  She just hoped that it would be enough to fool the giggling fiend beside her, who was chatting up a storm about her next big heist.

While Kristen felt absolutely ridiculous riding her scooter with so much blubber exposed, she was more concerned with catching up to Giggles and her ride.  Thankfully, her training with the Wolf Pack gave her an expert knowledge of all the various side streets and shortcuts in town, and she was able to catch up to her quarry in no time at all.  She found Giggles laying low in a quiet part of town, siphoning gas from a truck so she could continue her mayhem.

“All right, just play it cool,” the young vigilante whispered before putting on a beaming, spacey grin and calling out, “Holla-holla!  What up, Giggs?  You, like, need a plus-one for tonight?  Because I’m totes jonesing for a party.”

It was a risky move, especially since she was unarmed while Giggles had a comically large pistol aimed at her, but it paid off in the end.  As soon as the ever-smiling goon caught a look at her jelly belly spilling over her denim skirt and how she wobbled like pudding with each step, she lowered her gun and beckoned for Kristen to join her.

“Always room for one more in this baby,” Giggles replied as she lovingly patted her car.  “I likes the cut of your gib, kid—hop on in.  What’s your moniker?”

Kristen winced inside when she gave an airheaded giggle in reply.  “Like, call me Krissy!  That’s what everyone calls me, and I think it’s just aces.”

That brought her to the present, where she found herself overflowing the passenger seat of Mr. Friendly’s very sleek and very stolen sports car.  Giggles had the radio blaring and was dancing in her seat, often forgetting that she even had a guest with her until she turned and saw Kristen by her side.  The villainess blabbered on about this and that, from her yandere love for a pop star to her latest plan to get one over on the Wolf Pack, but Kristen barely paid attention.  While her companion was distracted, she took the opportunity to send messages to the Wolf Den in the hope that either Will or Julia would be around to receive them.

When the Gigglemobile hit another pothole, Kristen had to wrap her arms around herself to keep her breasts from bouncing out of her top.  There was no stopping the ensuing jiggling though, and the bloated sidekick felt like she was covered in gelatin.  It drove home just how out of shape she had gotten, and now that she had a relatively clear head for the first time in weeks, she wondered how she could have possibly been so blind to her gain.  She could forget leaping straight back into action—it would take months, if not years, to shed all this blubber.

“You doing okay there, Krissy?” asked Little Miss Giggles, who took her eyes off the road despite careening down East Boulevard at ludicrous speeds.  “Not sick, are you?  If you are, let me know, because I don’t want to get Daddy’s car all dirty.”

Kristen shook her head and replied, “Nah, just…like, can’t believe I’m here, you know?  I get to party with the hottest crook in town?  I’m aces.”

The grinning fiend gave one of her signature laughs.  “Hey, you’re already in the car, Krissy—you don’t need to kiss my booty.  But what do you want to do first?  I was thinking we could spread anthrax through the mall, maybe burn down a retirement home…”

Fighting back the bile that rose in her throat, the former Fang answered, “Um…what if we, like, did a dine and dash?  They’d totally give us a lighter sentence than any of that.  And trying to commit crimes on an empty stomach?  Ch’yeah, right.”

Giggles glanced over at her nervous hitchhiker and scrunched up her brow for a moment before breaking into a fit of snickers.  She patted Kristen’s belly and replied, “If you were hungry, all you had to do was say so!  Hang tight—I know a great diner that’ll serve us for a steal!”

Kristen did her best to laugh off the remark, but as soon as Giggles had her eyes on the road again, she let out a sigh of relief that she had been holding in since she set out that night.  It was not ideal, but she had managed to keep the demented diva from committing any of the horrors that bounced around in her head.  She just hoped that she had the stomach for what was coming, because she had a feeling that Giggles would not stop at just one eatery…

***

While she suspected that Giggles would not stop at just one eatery, Kristen had no idea just how much it would take to keep her from turning back to her homicidal tendencies.  A trip to the diner for a cheeseburger, fries, and a milkshake turned into a visit to a pizzeria, Flaming Amy’s for burritos, more milkshakes, and sushi.  Even Kristen had her limits, as, despite the increasing portions she had been wolfing down for the last few months, she was just barely able to keep everything down.  The hectic driving of her crazed host was not helping any, as each twisting turn made her stomach roil like the sea.

“Dang, Krissy!  You really know all the best places in town,” Little Miss Giggles hummed in approval between licking her fingers clean of wasabi.  “No wonder you’re such a big gal—no offense.”

There was nothing more Kristen wanted than to smack the grin off her enemy’s face, but she would have been incapable even if she was still in fighting shape.  It took all her focus just to not throw up her many dinners, so the best she could do was give a wincing grin and reply, “Like, no biggie.  I didn’t get all this jelly from eating like a chicken leg.”

The demented driver tittered at the response before reaching over and gently squeezing some of the pudge around Kristen’s knee.  “Well, trust me when I say you wear it pretty nice.  There aren’t a lot of girls that could rock the ‘Whole Lotta Rosie’ look like you do, but you’ve got it going on.”

That remark brought a little milkshake to the back of her throat, but Kristen swallowed it down with a quick gulp.  She was not sure which was worse: that she was trapped in a car with her archenemy, or that said enemy had the hots for her.  All she knew was that she prayed for a quick rescue by the Wolf or a quick death; either would have been better than letting Little Miss Giggles cop another feel.

Thankfully, it was the former that ended the fun, as the Wolf peeled out in front of them in the Wolf Cruiser and brought Little Miss Giggles to a screeching halt.  The laughter stuck in the villainess’s throat, and she fished around for a weapon she could use to antagonize the Wolf or hold Kristen hostage, but the only things at hand were packing from their many stops.  When the menacing vigilante appeared at the driver’s seat and ripped the door open, Giggles held her hands up and gave a sheepish chuckle in the face of the most terrifying man in town.

“Was I going a little fast?” she asked before the Wolf reached in and yanked her out of her seat.

“More than a little,” the masked man grunted as he tugged Giggles’ hands behind her back and cuffed her.  He looked back into the car and gave a nod to Kristen as he asked, “Are you okay, miss?”

“Like, never better, Wolf!  I’m not in any trouble, am I?” Kristen asked in turn, both keeping in character and genuinely wanting to know if she overstepped her boundaries.

The corner of his lips curled in a grin as the Wolf answered, “I think you’re going to be just fine.”

The emergency crews arrived not long after, and Little Miss Giggles was passed along to the authorities so the Wolf could have a moment with his pudgy protégé.  They walked over to the Cruiser and spoke in hushed tones, learned from years of operating together.  Will started, “So, you decided to play along for a change?  I’m surprised you didn’t try to knock her around once you got in the car.”

“I was tempted, trust me,” Kristen answered with a smirk.  “But it’s like you always say—sometimes, we need to keep the ruse going as long as we can.  I’m just glad you showed up when you did, because she was totes coming onto me.”

The Wolf shook his head at that and grumbled, “Like father, like daughter.  Still, I’m glad that you’re okay, and I’m pretty impressed with how you handled everything tonight.  We’ll talk some more tomorrow, but let’s get you home before your family starts to worry.”

“Oh, don’t worry about them—I told them there was a marathon of Nick Sparks movies on,” Fang chuckled as she lumbered into the Cruiser.  “Like, they’ll be set for the whole evening.”

***

The evening proved to be a victory for the whole Wolf Pack, as not only did the Wolf and Fang help bring down Mr. Friendly and Little Miss Giggles, but Timberwolf flew back into town with the Gargoyle in tow and Julia put the finishing touches on Kristen’s new medication.  They celebrated the following evening with a party to commemorate the youngest member of the team’s graduation and rejoining the Pack, and Kristen was not ashamed to say she cried at being given a new costume that would fit with her bulk.  While she still had a ways to go until she could actually use it, just knowing that she was formally a member again was enough for her.

“You take care of yourself at school, okay?” Phil asked, patting his fellow sidekick on the shoulder.  “If you ever need anything, we’re all just a call away.”

“Totes, McGotes,” Kristen replied tearfully before snapping a rubber band on her wrist, reminding herself to cut the slang as much as possible.

After another couple weeks at home, it was finally time for Kristen to say goodbye to Cedar Oaks and hello to East State University.  The ride up to school was filled with eager chatter between the Laree women, and even singing along to pop songs that, while not Kristen’s cup of tea, were a lot more fun than she used to think.  Her change in attitude was not lost to her father, who watched his girls playfully bicker in the backseat—something more akin to how they used to be when they were little.  He had no idea what had changed in Kristen over the last few months, but at least she was more like her old self in several ways.

The move into the dorm room was quick, even though there were a few more items purchased than originally intended.  Kristen was still coming out of her airheaded ways, but there were some holdovers from her more fashion-minded ‘Krissy’ identity, like a nice makeup table and plenty of cute clothes to accentuate her body.  She still planned on losing weight and getting back into shape, but as long as she was stuck with the generous curves she had developed over the summer, she might as well flaunt them.  At least no one could call her a chicken leg again, that was for sure.

When the Larees had said their farewells, Kristen flopped down on her bed and stared into the popcorn ceiling, wondering what was in store for her next.  The town of Drakeford was not known to have a ton of crime, but she had learned that there was always something going on that required a helping hand.  She just hoped that her roommate would not mind if she kept odd hours, especially if she went back out on the prowl.

“Hello?  Anyone home?” asked a familiar voice from the dorm door.

Kristen rolled onto her side and gawked when she saw Tanisha Dillard walk in, especially when she had a few bags of luggage in hand.  She knew that there had been a change in roommates, but she had not expected a fellow member of the Wolf Pack—and certainly not one she bickered with all the time.  The best greeting she could muster was a meager, “Um…hey, Tanisha.”

“Krissy—I mean, Kristen!  This is a surprise,” the Wolf-Girl replied, just as shocked as Kristen.  The two stared in silence for a moment before Tanisha broke the ice and asked, “Want to go get donuts after I move in?”

Her answer was a pillow to the head, courtesy of a red-faced and hungry Kristen.

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