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DC Universe Overweight

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2 minutes ago, >_< 0_0 said:

Siren Feeder is also awesome 👏 

Beggars can’t be choosers 👍

Random idea: any doodle requests? I’m feeling artsy

Haha, about 3/5ths done on the next one now.

How about a chubby wonder woman?

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Whew, finally!


Chapter 8: Spreading Out


Barbara Gordon woke up with a snort and a start, her glasses falling off as she shot up.


The information broker whipped her head about her head quarters, seeing mostly blurs and displaying the clear imprints of the keyboard she'd fallen asleep on her pale cheek. A momentary fumble for her glasses turned turned the blurs into her Clocktower home base and the younger members of the Bat Team.


The Clock tower's main room was a strange, almost steam punk collection of iron gears from the 19th century and cutting edge computers and monitors. It had little in the way of material comforts, just a futon and kitchennette. Barbara saw Cassandra in the later, the assassin busying herself at the coffee maker, and Tim Drake on the former, the nerdy third Robin eagerly tinkering with a set of VR goggles Barbara had been working on. She was about to yell at the younger nerd to leave it alone before a stream of teenage anxiety started up from right next to her.


"Hi Dr. Gordon, I'm sorry to wake you up but you said for us to meet you here and I didn't want to be late especially after that quiz last week and I just wanted to thank you again for letting me retake it because," Stephanie started rambling, tugging unconsciously at very tight skinny jeans digging into her waist.


"Stephanie, what are you...the Fashion Show," the overworked professor said, the words a blur and wiping rheum from her huge green eyes, "yes, the reason I called the three of you here to discuss my plan too..."


The first Batgirl felt herself drawing a blank. Her IQ might be off the charts and her work ethic just as high, but even the gears of genius could be ground to a halt by the gunk of exhaustion. She had no idea when she'd last gotten a good night's rest. Or any sleep really, the master hacker had been quite busy sending out mission briefings to various teams and hacking through fire walls, not to mention grading papers and working on lesson plans for her day job.She was just thankful it was a Saturday...or maybe Sunday. The green eyes set in her 'girl next door grown up' face were blood shot and her normally pale skin sallow from lack of rest.


"Here," Cassandra said, appearing at Barbara's side with a heavy mug full to the brim with steaming, delicious coffee.


"Oh thank God," the wheel chair bound woman sighed, taking the mug from her successor as Batgirl and drinking deep, wincing at the sugariness, "thanks for this Cass, but not so much cream and sugar next time okay? This coffee is more like Mountain Dew its so sweet."


The dark haired girl was in a tank top, displaying abs you could grate cheese on and leggings that struggled to contain her muscular thighs. Barbara guessed the current Batgirl had maybe a table spoon of body fat on her. Barbara was dressed similarly: wearing black sweat pants and a T-shirt from her days as a gold medal gymnast but the body under those clothes was quite different.


As a gymnast and then as Batgirl, Barbara had been tall, fit and leggy. But since the gunshot that had paralyzed her, Barbara hadn't exactly been exercising a lot. Her arms had gotten rather strong from wheeling herself around, but her vision had dimmed deeply and her legs had gotten skinny...until the past six weeks when she'd started packing on weight out of nowhere. Despite paralysis she could still feel everything below the waist and while that was good in sexual terms, it also meant she could feel how the once comfy sweats had become sausage leggings. Her thighs were just as full as they'd been in her crime fighting days, but now with jiggly fat rather than muscle, and her hips were really starting to get a spread out to the point they'd begun touching the sides of her wheel chair.


The current Batgirl looked down at her rather cuddly mentor, planted a sisterly kiss on her forehead and smiled before going back to the kitchen.


"So, now that I'm more awake, let's get to brass tacks," the professor said, pushing her glasses up on her nose and clicking a few keys, "the Gotham fashion show is going on tonight and I need you three there."


Several monitors kicked to life, showing footage from last years show: tall, slim and leggy models striding up and down catwalks while wearing everything from extremely expensive and skimpy dresses to very skimpy lingerie to near non-existent bikinis. Barbara shot a slightly jealous look at the footage, wishing she could walk, and missed Stephanie putting a hand to her midsection. And Cassandra silently put some candy bar wrappers into the trash.


"A couple fashion execs shorted shares of their companies just before hand, which leads me to think that there's going to be some sort of attack," Barbara said, reaching for one of the bananas she kept by her desk.


What went to the redhead's mouth was an unwrapped snickers, but hot coffee scalding her tongue and general grogginess from being both an associate professor and the world's preeminent hacker made Barbara not realize the change until she was almost done.


"So we'll be in capes and cowls outside?" Tim asked, tearing his eyes away from the tech in front of him to look at the near nude models on screen then looking back to the goggles.


"That'll be Cass' job," Barbara said, reaching for another banana and looking puzzled when it came back as a snickers, "I'm going to need Bruce Wayne's handsome ward and his pretty girl friend on the inside."


"Who's that going to be?" Tim asked, the other nerd blind to social niceties as always.


"God, the two of us you moron," Stephanie sighed, "ugh, why do I date you besides your abs and brain again?"


"I'm getting a tux and a dress for you two, Alfred's scheduled to drive the limo," Barbara told them finishing her coffee and leaning over to pick up the tickets from her desk.


In leaning so, Barbara's stomach peaked out between her draw string pants and her t shirt. In her cape days the Redhead had had a six pack, but her pale belly was now soft as cottage cheese. She wheeled herself over to Stephanie, belly jiggling as she went over the tiles and handed the blonde the tickets.


Given that she existed around waist level now, the hacker couldn't help but notice the new changes to Stephanie. Spoiler's jeans were on their last legs, literally. Pre-stressed rips were starting to tear for real, soft peachy skin starting to mushroom through the over tight fabric. Her zippper was only about 80% of the way done up, giving a brief glimpse of purple panties, and how she'd managed to get the button done up was a mystery Barbara could never solve. There was a badly stretched notch on her belt and a peachy muffin top peaking up over it. Her purple t-shirt was snug across her chest, breasts pushing the outline of her bra clear to see.


"A size six for you Steph?" Barbara asked softly, knowing well that Stephanie's usual costume was a size four.


"Yeah, that sounds about right for me," the blonde blushed sheepishly, tugging her shirt down while she took the tickets.


Oracle didn't say anything but gave a slight rise of the eyebrows. She wasn't about to point out how dumb it would be to gain weight while trying to be a vigilante, but the blonde had to know she'd put on the Freshman 15. Hopefully she'd get it under control on her own, God knew Barbara had enough problems of her own to worry about in that regard.


"When we were birthday shopping for you, you said you were a size four though," Tim said from the couch, tinkering with the goggles again.


Stephanie's face blanched, making her turn on the boy wonder with fury in her eyes, "Oh God you jerk you are so lucky you got hot."


"What?" Robin asked.


"You two should be there at 7. Cass though, you should get there at 5pm and do a sweep of the building before starting a patrol," Barbara sighed, remembering her own youthful and not so youthful romantic follies, pausing upon realizing she couldn't see Cassandra anywhere.


A loud crunch behind her announced Cassandra eating potato chips while leaning against Barbara's desk. Oracle's green eyes narrowed to see her friday cheat day snack being munched down, especially by a girl fitter than she'd ever been. She wheeled herself over to the current Batgirl, tugging the BBQ chips from her hands.


"Those are mine, not that I need them. Remember when we talked about possession?," Barbara glared, poking her rather uncivilized protege in her rippling abs, Cass smiling back without any sort of shame, "I'll be in touch with you three later, right now I've got some firewalls to hack."


She rolled herself back to the desk as the three other vigilantes departed, Stephanie giving her boyfriend hell while Cassandra followed after. Barbara looked at the bag of chips, knowing they were never as good as they were right after being opened and decided that moving her diet's cheat day up was the only option. Oracle knew she'd skipped breakfast, or possibly lunch depending on what time it was, and finished off the entire family sized bag of chips, her stomach bloating further. She was about to go get some water due to the saltiness but as she started to push herself back, Barbara noticed that her coffee mug had been refilled.


"Such a sweet kid," the redhead sighed, drinking in the sugary caffeine, "but if I didn't know better I'd think she was trying to fatten me up."




"For the love of Gawd, Red," Harley panted, sweat pouring off her beat red face, "stop. Let me have a breather or I'm gonna die! My heart's gonna pop, if I don't die of dehydration first. Please, I'm sweating so much the building's gonna flood!"


Harley said that a lot to Ivy. Usually it was about half way through a feeding session, when the pounds or gallons already inside her belly were already stretching her out to a point that felt like she was going to pop but her botanist tormentor was still bringing up new treats. Right now though, she was saying it half way up a seemingly endless set of stairs. The clown, used to walking a few hundred steps a day, had already been suffering after the nearly half mile walk from their parking spot. Now, after seemingly endless waddling through incredibly narrow stairs and railings, the thoroughly out of shape blonde was about to pass out from sheer exertion. She leaned forwards, hands on her knees desperately trying to suck air into her lungs while her monstrously large booty wobbled behind her, pale fat surging up over the back seam.


"Harley, you...you just...Gaia save me...you just need to get back in shape...," Ivy wheezed from just ahead of her, slowly setting her buns down on the stairs, "if you hadn't...just totally neglected your physical...Jesus...activity...I wouldn't have to wait and let you catch your breath..."


Ivy wasn't doing much better. Yes she'd been going to the store on occasion, but that minimal exercise advantage was more than undone by her insane idea to wear high heels and a fur coat on a mild day. Her feet hurt like hell and the coat was open to reveal her lime curves pouring over the far too tight leaf bikini. The straps on the bra were stretching, pulled towards the breaking point by her drooping dugs, which were shaking like jello in an earthquake due to her breathing.


"Yeah, let me catch my breath," the equally fat Harley said, setting down next to her girl friend, their hips filling the disused back stair case of the Gotham Convention Center, "thanks for that, I know an exercise nut like you could leave me in the dust if you put your mind to it."


"Of course, this is all for *puff* you. I'm far too in shape to ever need a breather after such a short walk," Ivy huffed, pulling a bottle of soda from her purse and taking a slurp, "you though, I like you cuddly Harley, but I'm putting you on a diet. Obviously you being my guinea pig has worked a bit too well, right now your butt is so big I'm jammed up against the wall! You fill this whole stair case!"


"Yeah, this is all me," the blonde rolled her eyes and sitting back so Ivy's love handle plopped on top of her thigh, "guess that means you're getting rid of all them doughnut vines and cup cake trees in the apartment then? Cause if I'm cut off from em, then there's no need to have such treats around. Even for an iron willed athlete like you."


"Lets not be hasty now," Ivy said, eyes widening at the thought of losing 24/7 access to treats, "those are rare plants who'll need to be maintained after we launch the next phase of my plan. And if you have enough will power you can live around them without ever touching one, why look at me. I haven't had a one of them!"


"Yeah, you're a real inspiration for a chubby girl like me," Harley said, "but won't that interfere with your plan to make every body on earth a fatty?"


"Well...no. That's only for the little people. I, as Gaia's avatar must of course stay at a healthy weight and I can choose those worthy of saving and given your helpfulness and affection over the years, why I think I'll choose you" Ivy said, leaning over a little and planting a kiss on Harley's cheek, "now I think you've had enough of a breather, let's get to the central air conditioning system on the roof. This plague won't start itself."


The two were helped to their feet by a brainwashed janitor under Ivy's mind control, although not without a fair bit of chaffing. Most of the convention center was already packed to the brim with fashion designers, their staffs and models getting ready for the big show, but this part of the building was quiet. Ivy giggled to herself at the thought of all those models and bourgeois fat cats getting tubby thanks to her plague, but did wish that the elevator to the roof hadn't been out of order. Harley did seem like she was going to pass out, although the wiggle of her gigantic buns against her tight pants was pretty cute. And Ivy was so dehydrated from all the sodium filtering out of her system that she was almost fatigued herself!


"You know, I'm so glad you're sparing me the burden of being obese and all Red," Harley huffed in front of Ivy, reaching the top of the stairs, "I kinda hate to admit this, but I was feeling a little anxious going outside. Its hard to think of myself as a helpless chunker and not a bad ass, ya know? Like if someone pulled a gun on me, I couldn't do anything but sit on 'em!"


"Yes Harley, its pretty clear that you're more couch material than super villain anymore," Ivy said, trying to adjust her bra against the pull of her breasts and then moving to keeping her belly from pushing down her panties, "I have to admit that I'm a bit out of shape too."


"What? You?" Harley asked in mock amazement, fanning her face as her equally rotund girlfriend's belly crested the stairs, followed shortly by Ivy, "why I don't believe it! I can count your abs practically!"


"Yes, I've gotten far too thin. These clothes are falling off of me," Ivy said, tugging at her bra still, "I really need to stop pushing myself so hard and indulge a bit. Right now, I think we're physically about as weak as we've been."


"Uhh...yeah that's kind of a weird thing to think of," Harley said, eyeing the skywith a glare, "let's just be glad that there's no body here but this dunce you mind scrabbled, dump your plague and get home. We can watch the fashion show and have a little snack."


"Good idea. Really though, imagine if we did run into a bunch of goons. We'd be helpless except for my powers and there's no plants anywhere around here!" Ivy laughed as the brainwashed guard unlocked the door to the roof.


"Yeah. Real good," the increasingly nervous Harley said, "Hey, Red you can still brainwash any number of guys right? Even though you're a little...too skinny right now? Like, if there were a bunch of thugs with guns and a grudge on top of the roof when that door opens you could just mind control em right?"


"Of course Harley," Ivy tittered, throwing her sweaty crimson curls over her shoulder and gesturing at her bulbous figure, "my slim, feminine charms can mind control any number of men."


The brainwashed janitor opened the door and walked through, courteously holding it open for the two voluptuous ex-villains.


"Oh thank God," Harley sighed, walking up to the roof and pausing only as her hips touched the door jams "I was really afraid that this was all foreshadowing and we were all gonna be held at gun point."


"Foreshadowing? You're so silly Harley! Acting like this is a funny book. I think that earned you a cheat day on that diet," Ivy giggled, following up and seeing Harley immediately raise her hands, "really though what are you doing?"


Stepping around the pale bulk of Harley, Ivy saw a dozen gun barrels pointed at the pair of them. Her own chubby arms went up so fast her boobs almost popped out of her bra.


"Red, do the mind whammy!" Quinn hissed under her breath.


"I'm too weak and undernourished to brainwash more than one at a time," Ivy insisted, cold reality gripping her tight enough to only sort of lie, "now shut up and let me think!"


It turned out the two weren't the only super villains to think of using the roof of the fashion show as an attack vector. A dozen buff men dressed like chippendales dancers with assault rifle's occupied the roof, opening panels with crow bars under the direction of a statuesque woman in a body suit with her back to the criminals. One of them casually knocked out Ivy's brainwashed janitor, removing the pair's only ally.


"Boss, what should we do with these two?" one of the thugs asked, jerking a muscular elbow to the two unrecognizable supervillains, "looks like a couple plus size models and a janitor."


"Plus size?" Ivy snapped before being interrupted by the leader of the gang.


"Plus size models, normal size models. It doesn't matter, the fashion industry will throw them all away when they turn 30," the very fit woman said, turning around to reveal a face covered in a porcelain mask, "just like they did me. But tonight I'm going to have my revenge, putting acid into the water supply and starting a fire. Once the sprinklers go off then every fashion designer and mogul in the world will be hideous and ugly! And when they look at their ravaged features, they'll know that Calendar Girl was the one responsible!"


The two obese super criminals looked at each other. Calendar Girl, or Paige Monroe, was a pretty small name in the super criminal game. A model unfairly fired for age-ist reasons, her criminal crusade was very narrowly focused on the fashion industry instead of more lucrative things like robbing banks or leaving riddles. But she had a reputation for snake fucking craziness that defied her slim build.


"And I thought we was crazy," Harley muttered, "all the villains get nuttier every year."


"You think I look younger than thirty?" Ivy asked, coughing to correct herself, "I think there's been some mistake here Miss Calendar Girl. You see, we're not models at all!"


The pair of fatty ex-cons had taken several breathers on their trip to the roof. Night was starting to fall, Gotham's stereotypical red skies showing and shadows lengthening. As one of Calendar Girl's goons passed one particular patch of shadow, it silently pulled the large man inside of it.


"The only mistakes are valuing superficial beauty," the masked woman said, waving over one of the guards, "get the acid, these two get a direct dose."


Harley and Ivy were seized and forced easily to their knees, buckets of bubbling acid dragged towards them. Their desperate attempts to break free came to nothing, pathetic muscles cramping at the slightest struggle. During that three other goons were pulled quietly into the shadow, leaving only seven and Calendar girl.


"Please, not the face! Hey, how about I promise to take up smoking!" Harley stuttered, before seeing a Bat shaped shadow knock out another guard with one punch to the head.


"Listen, we're not models! We can help you! We have the same goals! We're really Pois-" a depserate Ivy started stammering, before Harley jammed her hard in the boob with an elbow, "Ouch! Not the time!"


"No, listen we are models! I'm uh, Hannah Queen and this is uh...Pamela Anderson!" Quinn insisted, having never been so happy to see a Bat before.


"Pamela Anderson? Do you take me for some kind of idiot?" Calendar Girl snapped before Batgirl lunged into the open.


Harley and Ivy had seen their fair share of horrible things, but both looked away from the rapid ultra violence. None of the armed men got a single shot off or landed one punch. In a heart beat only Calendar Girl was left standing in front of the terrifying vigilante, a coiling thing of shadowy muscle with a stitched up mask straight out of a nightmare.


"Another defender of the status quo, confident her youth will never fade!" Calendar Girl began, trying to pull a gun only to go down with one punch.


Harley and Ivy slowly lowered their hands, feeling baffled at being saved by a Bat of all things.


"Alright?" Batgirl rasped, head cocked and staring at the two.


"Uh yeah, just fine. Thanks for the help Miss Scary face," Harley said, beginning the difficult job of getting up only to find the ultra ripped vigilante an inch from her face, hard abs pressing into her paunch.


"Do I know you?" the vigilante demanded, before going over to zip tie the unconscious gang's wrists together.


"Me? Uh, no unless you read er, Fat Girls Monthly?" Harley asked, certain she'd be punched out.


Neither Quinn nor Isley had the slightest notion that Batgirl could read a lie just from body language. Nor did they know that she couldn't read. And they had no way of knowing at all that she had a confusing and rapidly expanding fat fetish that was making her hot and bothered just by being around the two titanic tubbies. The three hundred pounders in their painted on clothes were the biggest women Cass had ever been around and her heart was doing a mile a minute inside her kevlar costume.




"Fat Girls Monthly?" Cassandra Cain asked under her mask.


"Yeah, Fat Girls Monthly, the premiere source for all things plus sized," the huge assed blonde nodded, "we're doing a big spread in it if you get my drift. All naked and covered in puddin!"


Batgirl hadn't taken a single blow in the fight, which had been pathetically easy for her. But the raw sexuality of the two hefty lardasses panting in front of her was flooring her metaphorically. She'd longed to do an internet search on fatties to do some self exploration but her severe dyslexia had prevented that. Still, the idea of an entire magazine full of pictures of chubby girls was distracting her so badly she almost hand cuffed herself to Cover Girl.


"Do you have a copy?" she asked, hoping so desperately.


The two "models" looked at one another incredulously, Batgirl distracted by the swing of Ivy's boobs.


"Fresh out," the blonde said.


"It must be in my other bikini," the other fat woman said, standing up with a grunt.


Cassandra turned towards the red head, ignoring the mammoth tits and michelin man rolls to focus on the green skin. She looked almost like Poison Ivy...except startlingly obese! Far fatter than she'd been at Wayne Tower several weeks ago. Could that be here? Surely no one could get that fat, that quickly!


"Why...green?" the suspicious girl asked.


"She's doing a walk as Mother earth! We only had time to do the green parts of her!" the pale blonde said, "we gotta go spray paint the ocean on over her next and do Antartica on her keister. Do you wanna help us out, Miss Heroine?"


"Uhh, I," Cassandra stuttered, feeling nervous.


She really wasn't good with people, often feeling quite overwhelmed by interactions that weren't from her handful of close friends. And prior to her makeout session with Stephanie a few weeks ago, she'd never even kissed anyone else. So two gorgeous, immense hotties asking for such help was enough to make her quite overwhelmed.


"Come on, think of it as a reward!" the blonde said, grabbing hold of the Redhead's immense gut and jiggling it to the later's indignation, "I could use help, she's gotta lot of really hard to reach places!"


"I can't accept rewards!" Cassandra yelped, nervous and overwhelmed by the thought, "Go to the show!"


Thankfully the two tubsters followed her order, almost hurrying downstairs. Letting out a relaxed sigh, Cassandra went back to hand cuffing, relieved she'd just stopped a monstrous attack and determined to google Fat Girl's Monthly when she knew how to. She waited for her heart to calm down and then radioed Barbara.


"Batgirl to Oracle," she said into the ear mounted device.


"This is Oracle. Sorry for the wild goose chase, I just found out that the fashion execs knew one of their top models was twenty pounds overweight. Enough to bust him for insider trading, not enough to warrant three Bats being there," Barbara's modulated voice said, potato chip munching on the other end, "funny to think someone can gain weight like that and not know it."


"Oh. I stopped an attack anyway," Cassandra told her, "Calendar Girl."


"Huh. Well, good for you," the surprised original Batgirl said, "drop her off at a precinct station and then do your normal patrol I guess."


As ordered, Cassandra threw Calendar Girl over her shoulder and started swinging towards the nearest police station on a grapple. As she hurtled through the air, she happened to glimpse the gala of models and moguls entering the show. It seemed very glitzy and glamorous, especially when she saw Steph and Tim get out of the Wayne Limo. Her bestfriend/girl friend was in a painted on purple dress that showed every single curve and made Cass almost drop the grapple gun.


"Oracle," she asked nervously, "can I have the night off?"




"Holy shit I can't believe that worked!" Harley cackled as she hurried down stairs, columnar thighs rasping so warmly they felt afire, "she bought that hook line and sinker!"


"Yeah, I *huff* guess the Bat's sidekicks get *puff* dumber every year!" Ivy wheezed behind her, near to passing out and one hand on her lower back due to the twinges of her bouncing breasts, "to think I was *huff* plus sized! How stupid!"


Fueled by adrenaline and aided by the down slope of the stairs, the pair managed to reach speeds they hadn't thought of in months, almost six miles an hour. But, despite their glee at fooling a Bat, the pair of super criminal's elation couldn't best a combined four hundred pounds of dead weight pressing on their joints and compressing their lungs. Both had to stop to catch their breath half way down the stairs again, breathing hard for a couple minutes. To Ivy it was horrible, each breath made her bra of living veins squeeze her chest like a vice. To Harley it was hotter than hell, for each of Ivy's breaths made her glorious green cleavage press ever farther against her bra.


"Oh Gaia, I need a drink. A couple liters of Mountain Dew and maybe a few pints of beer," Ivy gasped, waving a hand in front of her face, "the adrenaline from that scare has me huffing and puffing like a chubby girl."


"I'm sure that's why you're so sweaty and out of breath," Quinn said, not much cooler, "but how are we gonna spread your plague now? We can't exactly fight our way through a Bat to get to the air vents can we?"


"Bats don't stick around crime scenes, Harley," the redhead puffed, "not when the master mind is cuffed. She'll have gone to dump Calendar Girl off at the cops, so you'll have a little window before GCPD gets here to arrest the goons. So get those buns moving girl."


"Me?" Harley blanched, looking back up the stairs, which seemed to stretch onwards towards infinity, "why me? Its your plague!"


"Because Harley, you are extremely out of shape," Ivy said, leaning over and pinching a thick flap of hip meat on her pear shaped lover, "I know I was giving you a few snacks a day but you've just ballooned out recently. I like a girl with curves but if you don't start getting some exercise your butt is going to get too big to get out of the apartment!"


"Fine," the blonde groaned, rolling her eyes and lumbering to her feet, "give me the vial then. I suppose you'd just waste away to nothing your so skinny."


"Exactly, I'm so under nourished I feel I might faint!" Ivy agreed, pulling the vial of fat fetish virus from her bra, "now be careful with this and go dump it inside the air conditioning units intake fan."


Harley took the vial and began attempting to sidle past her girlfriend. That was easier said than done, the roof access stairs were narrow and there was a lot of super villain in them. Between Harley's immense butt and Ivy's spherical gut there wasn't an inch to spare, the two tired, sweaty wrecks of super criminals winding up pressed close together, six hundred combined pounds panting, grinding and struggling in a way that was making their trapped fat surge and jiggle like an artificial tidal pool. Sensitive flesh pressed into sensitive flesh, the two's rather erotic history unneeded to make their reddened faces redden further.


"Hey, this is kinda hot Red," Harley grinned, Ivy's giant gazongas pressed tight to her own busty bosom, "we ought to try getting stuck sex when we're not busy. Who knew getting so big could be so fun?"


"Laugh it up," Ivy panted, her weak arms trying to push the jester past her even as the jostling sensation of her sensitive boobs was making her eyes go cross with pleasure, "I'm *ohhhh*, getting crushed here by *Uhmmffff* all your flab. Oh, wow watch the hand Harley!"


"Trust me, I am watching it sugar," the blonde giggled, gropping underneath Ivy's lowest fat roll, "Or would if I could see it under all this chub between us."


"Ugh, just, get the vial *ohhhhhh* poured in first," Ivy wheezed, "then come back and we can *unff* celebrate!"




Stephanie Brown really wasn't good at dealing with temptation.


Whether following a somewhat dodgy lead as a vigilante or pursuing the furtive side glance from her boyfriend/boyfriend's sister into an hour long make out session, the blonde preferred to leap first and ask questions later. Or possibly fight and look first, metaphors weren't her strong suit by any measure. It did however, take really strong measures to get her to not follow her gut.


Especially when that temptation was a fully stocked, glorious looking buffet that nobody in this entire fashion show was even going near. A buffet who's buttery, fried, battered and thoroughly unhealthy contents were singing Stephanie's name.


Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on perspective, going with her gut meant the difficult task of ignoring that self same gut pressing tight into a dress that was a full size larger than her normal clothes. The gorgeous little purple number she'd picked out was vacuumed packed onto Stephanie's frame, which meant it showed off the damage her now biweekly decadent "girl's nights" and following apocalyptic breakfasts were doing to her figure. With the freshman 15 on her in full, Spoiler was nowhere near fat but she did have a not so flat stomach anymore and a pair of love lumps that could now use a C cup bra.


And feeling really self conscious about every one of those new ounces, here at a fashion show where some of the world's most beautiful women were walking on a nearby catwalk in lingerie.


"Man, these models in here are all really skinny. Way too skinny if you ask me. No fat on 'em at all, with tooth pick thighs and xylophone ribs. Not real women at all, hardly a curve on their bodies. Right? Look at that model, it looks like all she eats for breakfast, lunch and dinner is cardio," she said to her boyfriend as one especially svelte model strutted past, waving a hand in front of her face and feeling a new boob jiggle on her chest, "is it hot in here to you? I feel like I'm going to pass out."


"No, not really," her tuxed boyfriend responded, eyes flickering briefly to the expanded breast flesh of his girlfriend before going back to scanning the full conference center for evil doers, "do you think its because your dress is too tight for you?"


Stephanie glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest and continuing to suck in her stomach, "Tim you are really lucky you got hot, you know that? If you were still the same nerdy dweeb on the outside as you were when we met I'd kick your ass for that."


Her somewhat lacking in social graces nerd of a boyfriend stared at her, Robin's genius brain not quite getting what she was talking about for a few seconds before mental gears clicked and his eyes widened in terror.


"Oh crap, I'm sorry Steph. I didn't mean to call you fat," he told her, panicked, "you look great."


No one, save for the most anorexic focused fashionista would say that Stephanie looked bad. The tall blonde's new curves made her look a little less gangly, taking her from slightly dorky side kick to fem fatal in her own right. Partly it was because she was fortunate to have jumped a cup size, which distracted from the slight puff of her tummy.


"Well...you'll still owe me for it. Dinner and a movie and an hour or two of foreplay level of owe me," the slightly padded vigilante said, "God suggesting that I've gained weight when I'm just...more womanly than I was. You get buff and its nothing but I go up a cupsize and suddenly its the end of the world and I'm hideous. Don't you know that thick is in right now?"


"I'm sorry, I didn't say that you looked bad!" Tim told his date, stammering.


Super crime was something Tim could easily solve. Hand to hand combat was old hat to him. Mastering technology easier than walking. But navigating romantic waters was rather rough going for the third Robin.


"Your sister for instance says that my boobs look great," Stephanie ranted on, mouth going a mile per minute ahead of her brain, "Well, she doesn't say that but like, I know she thinks that right? I can tell, woman's intuition and all that even before she touched them. Cassandra's a lady of taste and err..."


"Wait, Cassandra touched your boobs?" Tim asked in puzzlement.


"Uhhh," Stephanie trailed off, realizing she'd admitted to her boyfriend that she'd kind of been in a state of undress with his adopted sister, "you see its a thing that girl's do with their besties when they're uhh in a shower and she and I were...well you see Cassandra was..."


The Spoiler was saved, as she often was, by the intervention of her best friend suddenly appearing. This time though, Cassandra was wearing a short black dress instead of her Batgirl costume and instead of launching into a repetoir of lightning fast punches she sat a heavily laden plate in front of Stephanie.


"Hi," the quiet vigilante girl beamed, suddenly seated at Stephanie's left arm.


"Right here!," the relieved yet nervous blonde said, "Cassandra I was just saying how we were uh...comparing things in a way that was, well, not that...certainly not cheating at all because it was a heat of the moment kind of thing that only happened four times afterwards...and Tim did I ever mention I think I'm kind of bi?"


Cass leaned over and put a quick kis on the panicking blonde's lips, then immediately replaced the kiss with a jumbo shrimp that Stephanie immediately starting chewing.


"Talk less, eat more," Cassandra ordered, totally ignoring the skinny models going by on the catwalk and putting a shrimp into her own mouth, "Tim, get us more food."


"Wait are you two also having sex?" Tim asked, things suddenly clicking in his head as his adopted sister fed his girlfriend with one hand and herself with the other.


"I wouldn't call it sex per se. More make out sessions and heavy petting and some mouth stuff and massages that kind of cause some really, really good orgasms," Stephanie confessed, swallowing yet another shrimp, "and kind of some erotic eating that isn't getting out of hand for me at all. So kind of sex I guess but only definitionally. God these shrimp are good, but please Cass, no more. I'm on a diet. Or should be on a diet. Tim can you get some more food?"


"I'm really not sure what's going on here," Tim admitted, feeling slightly sweaty himself now.


Stephanie was the only girl he had eyes for and he'd never been turned on by her eating before. But her expressions, the noises she was making and the sheer, obvious joy of it were turning him on. As was the firm tone of Cassandra, who was herself quite the looker due to her ripped body and stern face.


"Feed her," the poorly mannered Batgirl said through a mouthful of food, putting the plate where Tim could reach it, "she loves it."


"Really its less love and more like, really, really liking it," Stephanie squirmed as Tim reached out one rather buff arm to pick up another shrimp, "but you guys should really stop because I'm going to rip out of this dress in front of every one. Please? I'm not like you Cass who can eat whatever I want without getting fat..."


With some trepidation, Tim put the shrimp up to Stephanie's lips. She trailed off mid sentence about not eating anymore and immediately put her mouth around the jumbo prawn, succulent meat making her eyes roll into the back of her head. Another shrimp followed and another, both Cass and Tim feeding her until the plate was almost empty. The leggy blonde collapsed back against her chair making little mewling noises, hands on the little food baby pressed very tightly against her dress.


"Me next," Cassandra ordered, leaning forwards with an open mouth to take the last prawn from Tim's hand, her eyes rolling back into her head, "now go get more food."


Tim stared, slightly confused and extremely interested where this was going. The nerdy young super hero was deeply in love with his girlfriend and had always had some uneasy chemistry with Cassandra too, but had never really pondered adding one and one and one together to make three.


"Guys stop I swear I'm gonna pop," Steph whined, cooing as Cass finger's traced over her stomach, "don't stop doing that though."


"Get more food," Cass repeated, her own stomach flat due to the unbelievable strength of her abs, "we're hungry."


"No more, please. Really I need to go on a diet, I'm already getting fat," Steph whispered, glad the noise and music of the event meant no one was noticing her public feeding, "but if you do go, get some of those little cheese cakes. And maybe a salad for me? But really the cheese cakes. And some champagne."


"What about the mission?" Robin managed, genius brain going to a halt and his mouth going dry.


"Stopped the attack already," Batgirl said, running a hand up Spoiler's full belly and making the Blonde spasm in joy, "Oracle gave the all clear. Get. More. Food."


"Cass, we're in public. I know you don't know what that means but everyone's gonna see me pop out of this dress and come and Oh God don't stop giving me rubs," Stephanie whispered, "and really, I'm getting so fat already..."


Tim very slowly stood up, hurrying to the buffet.


"It looks good on you," the muscular, scarred girl told her friend, "don't you want more curves? But don't worry. You'll come later. We all will."


Cassandra might not be able to read very well. But she was a quick learner in all things physical and was eager to experience what a threesome was.


"Really though, everyone's gonna notice," Stephanie whined, "its not like some sort of big distraction is gonna hit, is it?"




Lois Lane had quit, given up, thrown in the towel, called it quits and a lot of other metaphors in terms of watching her weight.


She'd had her wake up call, that her girlish frame was getting thick to the point it wasn't quit girlish anymore. That the middle age spread was going to surge and it would be sweat pants and letting herself go from here on unless she buckled down and dieted now. But temptation had been damn sweet and Lois had been too tired to bother fighting the battle of the bulge one skirmish more. She was going to get fat and she had to accept that sexy young Lois Lane was gone, while middle aged chubster Lois Lane was here to stay.


The star reporter had put her stationary bike into the basement, knowing it was the last time she'd touch it. She bought plus sized clothes for the first time in her life, knowing that in ten years a size ten was going to seem tiny. Lois had even stopped wearing contacts to work, going back to her old glasses that didn't flatter her purple eyes and made her look mousey. She'd poured her self into lingerie and had really, really passionate sex with her husband, knowing it was the last time she'd get to have hot girl sex, and the next day bought enough junk food at the store to put a professional athlete into a mobility scooter.


Which was why she was extremely annoyed she'd been asked to cover this fashion show. For one thing it was in Gotham, which was the worst town to visit. For another it was far beneath her skills as an investigative reporter. Lastly, it was two weeks after she'd decided to give up on staying hot and now she'd had to glam up to not look like a hag in front of a bunch of models half her age. Going to fashion shows when you were young, single and exploring your sexuality was one thing, going to them when you were forty and getting fat just made you miserable.


"God, do these girls even know that hamburgers exist?" Lois muttered from one of the press tables, pencil scratching across her note book, "my waist wasn't that thin in high school. I can tell none of them have had kids."


The Pulitzer winner had already gotten the quotes she'd needed, most of the note book were doodles of skinny models having 1 ton weights crush them and a checklist of people who'd glanced at her with interest.


Granted, that list was longer than expected. A lot longer. Longer than it had ever been despite Lane's age and weight.


Lois had to say she'd been pleasantly surprised that after two weeks of no exercise at all, living in pajama pants and living off the four basic food groups of Chunky Monkey ice cream, meat lovers pizza, garlic bread and snicker doodle cookies, her best formal gown still fit. She'd expected an immediate transformation into a middle aged Karen with a bean bag shaped body but instead found that her body had gone all va-voom.


The reporter hadn't described her tits as perky since she'd stopped nursing 9 years before, but what had been slightly floppy Mom Ds were now perkier than ever. Every time the brunette looked down she expected her chin to brush against the rising mammary glands. They hadn't been this firm even in college, when she'd been running three miles a day. Two weeks of eating junk had shot them up to near DD territory, making them ready to pop out of her neckline at the slightest misstep.


A similar strange transformation was happening on the opposite end of the intrepid reporter. It was common for women in their 40s to get wider hips and bigger butts, but Lois was pretty sure her transformation was unusual. All that lazing around had done more for her ass than any work out plan could legally promise, making her slightly slumping mom butt inflate into a large, firm bubble while her hips had widened and rounded out.


If it had just been her increasingly decadent behaviors placing Lois' new pounds in enviable places, that would have been one thing. But while the scale was climbing up to the tune of seven more pounds in a single day, the now 167 lb star reporter's waist was somehow not growing. Instead her chubby tummy was getting flatter, to the point Lois could barely pinch it and her limbs were following suit, getting harder with muscle.


It made absolutely no sense to the curvy reporter. She was eating like a pig, not exercising and somehow looking better than ever? Indeed, her skin had a girlish glow to it now, her crows feet and fine lines barely visible and her black hair was lustrous. And Lois' middle aged tiredness was fading away, a positively youthful energy infusing her...in more ways than one. She'd always had a good libido but she right now she couldn't keep her hands off Clark. Even her vision seemed to be getting better, her glasses unneeded, and when she'd looked in the mirror that morning Lois would have pegged herself as younger than thirty five and not older than forty.


A near skeletal model flounced up the catwalk, looking confident...and positively staring at Lois new boobs at the end. Lois smiled back at her, shrugging her shoulders to make the full breasts bounce and enjoying making the model squirm. She had to have more boobs on her body than the last three models combined.


"If Smallville knocked me up again I'm going to kill him," Lois told herself, stomach starting to rumble with hunger.


Pregnancy was the only explanation Lois could think of for swelling boobs, widening hips, a surging appetite and a rising sex drive. But it didn't explain her stomach getting flatter and her arms and legs getting slimmer. In her first pregnancy she'd swelled up like a pig pretty quick, no way she'd look better ten years older.


She was about to start writing out a theory on what was happening when the air conditioning kicked on unexpectedly. For a second Lois shivered, felt dizzy and then after a moment sneezed. That surprised her, she was lucky enough not to have allergies, then she sneezed again, suddenly feeling feverish.


"Ugh, don't tell me I'm getting sick," Lois moaned to herself as another model walked by, straight into the cloud of mist Lois' sneeze had left, "last thing I need."


Selina Kyle, one of Lois' few good friends, had been supposed to meet her at this stupid thing but had had to cancel last second claiming a sudden illness. Lois had no idea that the illness was twenty pounds of unflattering weight, but her mind immediately went to some new cold spreading through Gotham. Cursing the city she looked in her purse for a tissue, only to be hit by a sudden wave of hunger. Dissatisfaction with her weight faded away, all that remained in Lois' mind a sudden desire to eat.


The curvaceous brunette rose from her seat, wide hips twitching and joined the suddenly busy line to the buffet....

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The plot, like so many waistlines, thickens! Loved the dynamic between Ivy and Harley, with Harls feeding her girlfriend's denial. The Calendar Girl scene was great, and Cass being all flustered by the villainesses was lovely. That scene at the dinner table though...man, that was good stuff. Looking forward to seeing where they all go from here, especially Super-Lois!

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44 minutes ago, >_< 0_0 said:

The amount of plot-weaving in this chapter was insane!

Being able to rough draft it on writing helped


28 minutes ago, lyle81992 said:

Never expected a Calender Girl cameo.

An excellent minor villain to use in this


1 minute ago, CyrilFiggus said:

The plot, like so many waistlines, thickens! Loved the dynamic between Ivy and Harley, with Harls feeding her girlfriend's denial. The Calendar Girl scene was great, and Cass being all flustered by the villainesses was lovely. That scene at the dinner table though...man, that was good stuff. Looking forward to seeing where they all go from here, especially Super-Lois!

Thanks. I wanted to have kind of a see saw with Batgirl, pushing for control and kind of flustered.

I'm really looking forwards to where Lois goes

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10 hours ago, Batman76 said:

Being able to rough draft it on writing helped


An excellent minor villain to use in this


Thanks. I wanted to have kind of a see saw with Batgirl, pushing for control and kind of flustered.

I'm really looking forwards to where Lois goes

 Batgirl’s control begins and ends with her deep infatuation with bodies and body language 

taiga GIF

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Whew, this took a while to write:

Chapter 9: Outbreak.
"And thus, model and audience alike, turned our colective backs on the unfeminine parade of stick thiness and decided to turn our atention to more important things, such as the bufet. Skinny is out and curves seem to be making a comeback," Lois finished typing her report into her phone with one thumb while drinking from a liberated champagne bottle with her free hand, "and ....send. Wonder if the pulitzer committee will be able to tell I was drunk writing this. Meh, spelling mistakes are about the same."
The star reporter was stumbling through the parking lot of the Gotham fashion show, her blood alcohol and sodium level's off the charts. A bit of gravy and chocolate was collected in the corners of her lips, while far, far more was collected inside the curvaceous MILF. Before that night's epic feast, and despite her over eating following her acceptance of the middle aged spread, Lois chubby waist had dropped a full two inches, letting her get back into this dress without being strapped inside shape wear for the first time in five years.
An infection by Ivy's fat fetish virus, four thousand calories of booze and hors d'oeuvres later though and Lois boasted a food baby larger than most pregnancies with twins. Her belly button had popped against the sequined purple fabric and with every breath the side seams split a little further, soft side fat showing through. The surging food baby was pulling her neckline low enough to see her bra, hyper firm D cups threatening to pop out with every shaky click of her heels on the asphalt. Lois' panties felt like they were riding higher as well, the rub of her thighs making her hornier than the start of a stag film.
"Oh my God why isn't my husband here. Probably saving a cat from a tornado on Mars," Lois muttered, wobbling from the relatively safe parking lot into the more dangerous streets, "where'd I put my car? Did I even drive?"
Another long pull of the champagne bottle left Lois with an empty in her hand. Hazily, she looked around to find herself in an alley, vague notions of where she was and how bad an idea to be in an alley in Gotham was kicking around her brain. She drunkenly fumbled for the small purse under her arm.
One of the city's horde of opportunistic muggers were already coming for the brunette from behind. Lois was too drunk to notice, she tossed the champagne bottle behind her and the glass kept going and going and going, cracking open a window on the 85th story of Wayne Tower twelve blocks away. The mugger immediately turned around to find someone not super strong, right as Lane remembered she'd shoved her phone into her bra to stuff her purse with shrimp.
"Oh thank God, I really need to get laid," she grinned, fishing the phone from her expanding bust, shoving shrimp into her mouth and dialing.
Clark Kent was a worrier by nature.
What ifs tended to plague him all hours of the day, his super powers not helping one wit because most of his worries were about his wife. Lois was a danger addict, her being still alive at 40 defied belief more than Clark's ability to fly. She'd investigated drug cartels, mega corps, arms dealers, terrorists, war lords, super villains and alien invasions, always surviving no matter the number of gunfights, kidnappings and general peril involved. A lot of that credit had to go to last minute rescues by Clark, who kept one super ear locked on Lois at all times.
He'd offered repeatedly to go with her to Gotham, as he always did, but she'd laughed it off, claiming it was going to be a girls night only to text him Selina had dropped out at the last minute. By then he'd been dealing with a crashing airliner and had had to make dinner for the kids, his super stomach rumbling with super anxiety even though he could hear her doing nothing more dangerous than texting and eating. Clark was distracted for just a moment helping his son with a math question, his phone ringing taking him by surprise.
"Lois, is everything okay?" the last son of Krypton asked, immediately relocating her with his senses and cursing himself for his attention breaking.
"Smallville there's an emergency so listen up," Lois slurred, "you...gotta take me to the fortress of sol...soli...your big crystal castle thingy for the sake of the kids."
'Lois, are you drunk?" Clark asked in alarm, between words getting into his super suit and going out the window faster than a speeding bullet.
"No! You're sober is the issue," his wife sighed, "but you gotta take me to the fortress nooow."
By the time she finished speaking, Clark was hovering a foot away from her back. He didn't need x-ray vision to trace every inch of her va-voom body, broad hips and taut bubble butt stretching the seat of her gown to the breaking point and the incredible shapeliness of her thick legs making him lose his breath. A faint gust of air blew her raven mane aside, showing the gentle curves of her soft, exposed back. She was still stretching out the word "nooooooowwwww" by the time Superman managed to speak.
"What's the emergency, Miss Lane?" he asked, projecting confidence into his voice.
"The problem, Smallville. Is that I want you to make me scream loud enough to break glass," Lois said into her phone, unaware that Clark's piercing blue eyes were glued to her broad posterior, "and I can't do that at home tonight and look the kids in the eye tomorrow and if I don't get some of that Super dick into me now I'm going to go nuts. So give the kids twenty bucks for pizza and get your ass to Gotham before I come thinking about it."
Clark was more powerful than a locomotive, faster than a speeding bullet and able to jump tall buildings in a single bound. But Lois always made him feel normal in a way he hadn't since he was a kid, perhaps the only one on earth to treat him as just another person instead of well, Superman. She called him Smallville constantly, teasingly questioned his intelligence and would even steal food off his plate just to show she could. It had been enough to make him overlook her skinniness on first meeting her.
"I'm right behind you Lois," Clark managed to say.
She turned around unsteadily, the sight of her swinging food baby making Clark suddenly land on the side walk.
Although born on Krypton, Clark was from Smallville, Kansas. Epicenter of America's obesity epidemic, a town of nothing but corn fields waiting to be turned into high fructose syrup and feed lots of cattle waiting to be turned into burgers. Even before the majority of girls in town were medically overweight, the ideal feminine figure had big hips for birthing more help on the farm and a plump belly to show her culinary skills. Clark liked his girls well, bigger. His high school sweet hearts had been thick at their thinnest and his mother had on meeting Lois marveled at the reporter's skinniness, knowing her adopted son's taste.
"Lois, you look, well," the Superman tried to say, taking in the nearly exposed heavy breasts and the bulging dome, "uh..."
"Finally full of food and ready to be filled up with something else," she hiccuped, awkwardly jumping onto him, her soft, heavy dome pressing into his chiseled abs, "so Smallville, let's go watch the auror...auror...aurora borealass while we fuck.
She'd known his earlier girlfriends were chubby, but him liking heavier girls had never clicked with Lois. Comments that she didn't need to hurry to lose her pregnancy weight or that he liked the steadily accumulating pounds appearing in her dwindling thirties made no impact, taken as pleasantries. Their sex life had never suffered for it, even at her most modelesque Clark had thought her gorgeous, but now...
"Is that a kryptonite crystal in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" Lois slurped, pressing in close to french kiss him, and pulling away to see the two of them surrounded by Kryptonian crystals,"get us to the...oh, we're here."
The Fortress of Solitude hadn't been designed for having sex in. But having kids with super hearing meant that a dependable, sound proof place was needed so a small room had been converted. Clark was at heart, rather shy and modest and had paled at some of the things Lois had insisted on installing.
"Lois, you are a little drunk, so how about we wait until morning," Clark told her as she wriggled out of his arms, clumsily pulling off her heels as she got to a dresser full of rather racy outfits.
He was paused by the liquid rasp of her brushing thighs, Lois' legs thick enough to touch. The pure sensuality of the sound cut through his defenses like a nuclear blast, the sight of her sashaying hips or the little jiggle that went up the back of her legs totally unnecessary. She bent over the drawer, pulling out a black leather one piece that had been getting tight twenty pounds ago.
"Fuck you boyscout, I'm sober enough to fuck you into oblivion," the foul mouthed reporter insisted, starting to peel her dress off, "now you pussy, are you going to fuck me or do I have to do it myself?"
The dress had already been ruined before she'd called Clark, its back seams near breaking and its side seams already tearing. But the brunette shredded it with one tug, fabric tearing like tissue paper to real a curvaceously thick physique. Remnants of her college track star body could be seen in the strength of Lois' calves and the gentle curve between waist and hip, but her decadent softness was all apparent. Touching thighs beneath her groin, pinching underwear on her over round hips, a little bit of fat beneath her chin, a bust popping from its bra like a storm surge over a sea wall and above all else that basketball of a food baby.
"I think Lois," Clark said calmly, looming over his much shorter wife, "that you need to apologize."
"...are you gonna make me?" she asked coyly, shoving her thick thighs through the tight leg holes of the negligee, soft body jiggling at the sudden movement.
"I think I will," he told her, pressing in close.
"...you gonna spank me to make me?" she asked, purple eyes afire with lust and trying to get the thing up over her hips.
"I think I'm spank you and I'm going to force feed you ice cream until you pop out of that," Superman told her, "and then I'm going to fuck you until you scream."
Ivy's virus had already passed its first test, infecting a kryptonian when Clark had kissed Lois earlier. That it was entirely unneeded was superfluous, Superman was infected and it was going to spread faster than a speeding bullet.
"Good, make sure you get some hot fudge and marshmallow cream Smallville," Lois grinned, "I'm about to be a very bad girl and my punishment is going to burn calories I cant afford to lose."
Feline grace was one of Selina's trademark traits. Whether it be scampering up the side of a fire escape or walking across a tight rope a hundred stories over the ground, the cat burglar never put a foot wrong. It was a thoughtless power, born from hours of careful training every day over sixteen years.
But as she stumbled back into the manor, chased by the first rays of the morning sun, Selina was a stumbling mess. Her pace meandered left to right, her leg muscles threatening to give out. All of her leg muscles, from shapely hip to graceful ankle, were threatening to cramp while a stitch painful as a knife wound screamed in her side. She was still breathing hard a full minute after stopping her run and absolutely covered in sweat. Normally the super thief felt elated and relaxed after a hard work out, the more strenuous the better, but this morning she'd only done a leisurely three mile run and felt ready to die.
"What the hell is happening to me," Selina complained to no one, wiping sweat from her forehead, "I feel like I just ran thirty miles with a gun shot wound in my ass."
Since absorbing the magic of the stolen Amazonian ring, Selina had been living inside a nightmare. Long stretches of time were vanishing from her memory, at least several hours of each day. Just the day before she'd been having some passionate early morning sex with Bruce, the one good side effect was that her libido was through the roof, and just as he'd finished she'd suddenly woken up curled up on an arm chair with knitting needles in hand and a nearly complete set of infant clothes stitched in front of her...and draped across an enormous food baby born from an entire sheet cake that Selina had apparently baked, frosted and eaten herself.
"Ugh, I need to solve this soon," Catwoman said to herself as she saw her reflection in the manor's patio door, "before I'm too fat to get back into the house."
A bit of an exaggeration, but Selina's reflection was certainly different than it had been before her slightly foolish theft. There hadn't been a repetition of the first day's terrifying immediate gain but the leggy brunette had still been victim to a slow, steady gain born from over eating and missed workouts. If she'd been in normal office garb the gain would be harder to distinguish, but clad as she was in a sports bra and tiny spandex shorts a blind person could notice Selina had packed on twenty pounds.
Her face was, thank God, mostly untouched save for a slight softening of her jawline. More apparent now that her mouth was hanging open in an attempt to suck in enough air, terrible running form the life long runner should have known to avoid.
Beneath her long neck, Selina's breasts throbbed. The tits, now completely and implausibly natural, were swelling out of her black sports bra, the sensitive Ds making seams pop with every step and complaining at the lack of support and too tight constraints. Eager to soothe them, Selina tugged at the fabric only for the front seam to completely fail at the slight tug.
Soft, sweaty boobs surged out into the cool morning air to her surprised yelp, Selina's hands reflexively going to cover them up and finding them full and heavy. The breasts were resting lower on her chest now with the added weight, some blue veins starting to stand out on them and her nipples were growing thicker across widening areola.
"God, this is the second to last thing I need," the exposed ex-super villain muttered, covering herself with one hand and entering quietly into the manor, "I just hope to God none of the side kicks are up."
A normal person would have just gone through the door, but Selina was a slightly insane ex-thief married to a vigilante. She'd left a second story window open instead and scampered up the brick work, gasping for air at the window. It had taken less than five seconds, but Selina felt like she was going to die just from her tits flapping against her chest. She rolled gracelessly through the window, hips brushing painfully against the edges, landing with a soft thud and hearing her ass rip through the spandex shorts.
"Damn it I'm out of shape," the cat burglar moaned, looking down at herself.
Past her slightly floppy breasts, Selina's hard earned abdominals had vanished along with her ribs. Not just covered by new fat either, her sit ups that morning showed that the hard muscle had lost much of its strength. Combined with her paleness, her entire torso seemed soft and flabby. During her stretches that morning she'd noticed rolls forming for the first time and her spandex pinched tightly into the soft flesh, an incipient muffin top forming over it.
But the worst part, the part Selina had noticed every step of her run, was all below the belt.
Once a lean hour glass, Selina's future was looking pear shaped. Her hips had gotten wider and she wasn't just talking about the new pockets of fat growing on the sides either. The entire physical structure of her pelvis had noticeably widened, a frame for child bearing hips that was quickly being filled in with fat. She'd often put a sultry sway to her strut, particularly when Bruce was around, but now her hips seemed to have a mind of their own, swinging side to side and threatening to pull her off balance.
And the increase to girth wasn't limited to her hips. Selina's taut butt had gone soft overnight, right now it was hanging out of her spandex shorts and giving her a horrible wedgie. She tugged the torn shorts down with her free hand for the hundredth time, only for soft ass fat to pour right back out. It jiggled with the slightest movement, soft as melted butter and couldn't be contained. The inflated, drooping buns were giving her panty lines in every skirt or pair of pants Catwoman owned, she'd had to go commando this morning or else be driven mad by her ass pulling her panties tight against her clit. Just the thought of that made her horny but as she began tip toeing towards the bed room another sensation distracted her.
Selina's thighs were normally perfect, sculpted by aerobics and runs and weights and yoga into immensely strong and ultra lean running, kicking machines. Right now they were chafing, new layers of fat filling up her thigh gap to the point that she, Selina Kyle, had to suffer the sensation of her thighs rubbing together. Just as with her abs, much of the muscle mass had faded, leaving her thighs chubby and weak. Withered quads and shrunken hamstrings cramped and complained at the physical exertion, having gotten used to being lazy in her altered mental state's indulgent life style.
"I've got to get this under control," the more than half naked woman muttered to herself, tip toeing towards her room down the seemingly endless hallways of the manor, "Bruce hasn't said anything but I'm sure he will at some point. He's already starting to put his hands on my stomach when we have sex. And I'm already too big for my favorite dresses, God I had to duck out on Lois like an asshole last night but no way in hell I was going to go to the fashion show with a food gut like I had."
Selina had almost said 'baby' but had learned to carefully avoid it. There were certain words that caused her personality to switch into matron mode as she called it and if she could avoid them, then she could avoid becoming such a horrible caricature of a doting house wife. It helped especially if she could avoid one member of the family, who's mere presence caused her to switch.
Catwoman had almost made it, being merely twenty feet from the master bedroom door, when a sneeze made her stop dead in her tracks.
It had come from the bedroom of she who must not be thought about, mentioned or seen. Surely just allergies or something but...there again. Followed by a cough.
"She's fine, she's fine, she's fine," the half naked Selina muttered, putting her hands over her ears, "she's a big girl who can take care of herself, she'll be fine, she'll be fine. I don't need to go in there and make sure my precious delicate daughter is okay. A girl her age needs her mother to take care of her."
Cassandra lay in her bed, feeling a strange mix of satisfied and miserable.
Last night had been fun on a level she didn't know existed. A level that made naked, over stuffed make out sessions in the shower and gently kissing Stephanie's clit while the blonde's peachy food baby pressed into the top of her own head seem all foreplay in comparison. Threesome's made everything better it seemed.
A line had been forming by the time Tim got back with two plates almost creaking with appetizers. The two eager girls had sat the third Robin in between him, the feeding a back and forth exercise. A shrimp to Cass on the right, a mini cheese cake to Steph on the left. A mini quiche, a mini cup cake. A bacon wrapped sausage, a cheese stuffed pepper. After the first plate had gone down, Stephanie looking pregnant and Cass' own abs starting to swell slightly, Cassandra moving places so they could both feed the blonde.
Batgirl had been reading her friend's body language all day: the subtle pride of being a C cup at last mixing with the shame she felt towards her nascent starter belly to produce a cocktail of emotions that drove the ex-assassin wild. The sight of the blonde's growing desperation to keep her swelling belly sucked in had driven her wild and when Steph had at last quit sucking it in and let the paunch surge out to its fullest extent, Cassandra had almost come right then and there. Stephanie had been sweating less than a third of the way through, miserably happy and embarrassingly horny at her own predicament, growing more into it as her stomach started to press into the table. Tim was showing the same amount of aroused excitement, just the dilation of his eyes taking in Steph's swollen stomach and puckering lips telling Batgirl that without having to glance at his crotch.
No one had noticed the three vigilante's little feeding session. As the air conditioner had kicked in right as Tim had gone to refill the plates, the fashion show had been suffused with Ivy's fat fetish virus. Every woman in the place had suddenly gotten hungry, while every man had suddenly considered the toned and trim women around them insufferably bony.
By the time the Cass had picked up the last jalapeno popper and used her own lips to place half of it into Steph's mouth, the tables were empty and the buffet a near riot. The three had ducked out silently, although Cass' own black dress was stretched so tight by her food baby her panties were visible and Steph's full term gut had pulled her gown's side seams to the breaking point and almost exposed her breasts. One knocked out mugger and a summoned spare car later had seen the three of them back at the manor and in bed, a brief stop at a fast food place to top off the two ravenous girls the only slow down.
The lust pouring off all three of them was overwhelming. Open mouths and flickering eyes, dilating nostrils and quivering thighs, all of them were gigawatt lasers of horniness straight to the quiet girl's brain, burning "SEX" right into it. Tossing in Steph's engorged nipples popping free of her ball gown and Batgirl was coming before she even got fully undressed.
Thankfully all the feeding by the suddenly matronly Catwoman hadn't put a dint in Cassandra's stamina. A combination of her own harsh training and the weight gain vaccination she'd unknowingly acquired a month and a half ago had left her ready for an all nighter of sitting on Stephanie's face, her hands nimbly exploring every inch of the blonde's expanded bust. Her lips had been busy too, rather passionately making out with Tim, Robin's hands gently massaging Batgirl's small breasts with one hand while he thrust into Steph with the other. Stephanie's immensely stuffed stomach rolled and jostled between them all the while.
It had hardly been the worst all nighter Cass had ever pulled. She felt more accepted, loved and happy then she, well ever had...but she also felt totally miserable after it. She'd woken up alone earlier than normal, Tim and Steph retreating to his room in case awkward questions were asked, and found that while her food stuffed midsection had returned to its customary 8 pack, she'd picked up a nasty stuffed nose and a cough. Her throat hurt and her eyes felt gummy, it was rare for her to get sick due to her limited social contacts without wearing a mask and the tough as nails ex-assassin found she couldn't do anything but lay under the sheets sneezing and feeling awful.
Until her door opened to show a topless Selina, eyes brimming with maternal care and soft body covered in sweat.
"Cassie darling, what's wrong?" the suddenly sweet thief asked, hurrying in with a lot of bouncing that made the sickened girl feel a lot better, "I heard you coughing in the hall way you poor thing!"
"Um," was all the sick girl could say, muteness far worse than normal as the sopping wet D cups were suddenly inches away and closing.
"Oh you've got a fever, I know it," Catwoman said, putting her lips to Cassandra's warm brow and threatening to smother her daughter with her own all natural pillows, "Goodness you were probably out all last night in the cold fighting crime weren't you?"
"Uh," Cass began to say, explaining that after a short fight she'd engaged in a feeding threesome would be difficult at the best of times but with a mouth full of nipple?
Selina's heavy boob flesh had surged into the girl's mouth the moment she tried to speak. Having been raised on a bottle and denied any mother figure in her life, Batgirl's immediate response was to latch on and suck. Her dark eyes widened at the realization of just what she was doing, but Selina laughed it off.
"Ha, those are for the baby dear!" Selina giggled, the boob leaving Batgirl's mouth with a slurp as she stood, "Sorry about that, silly Selina forgot all about her little wardrobe malfunction when I heard my little one coughing. I was just trying to stay in shape for the baby and well, its time to accept I'm not a little girl anymore isn't it?"
The shell shocked vigilante could only nod.
"Now, I'm going to go get showered and dressed, then cook you a great big breakfast," Selina promised, "when you're that sick you're going to need twice the calories as normal to get better. Then how about we have a nice long day together cuddling on the couch?"
Kara's life wasn't the best at the moment.
The thin blonde lay on her bed, head phones of what humans called "Death Metal" blaring in her ears and a text book in front of her. Her slim legs kicked behind her while she tried to make the stupidly simple equations stick in her head the way the American education system wanted her too. Krypton's destruction had cut short her science guild education, but this tripe was so insufferably idiotic it was giving her a headache.
"Rao," she intoned the ancient Kryptonian sun god, "they still think Y = MX+B. No wonder they haven't cracked FTL travel."
Everyone she'd ever known was cold interstellar dust. She was on a planet of primitives who lived in houses made out of wood and wore plant fibers as clothes, instead of crystal palaces and silicon robes like a sane species. Her only blood relative was at heart a Kansas hayseed. And the elite prep school her cousin and Lois had gotten her into didn't believe that their math was wrong and full of judgemental girls who had much bigger boobs and activated her acute social anxiety.
"Why can't I just stay home and learn via a computer like on Krypton?," the understandably grumpy girl muttered, reaching a hand into the extra large bowl of cereal by her bed only to find it empty, "drat."
Kara was sweet by nature but grumbled mightily as she turned off her music, hopped up from her bed and walked across the room in real time. Added to her various other complaints, her super human powers weren't on at the moment. One day she was the strongest girl on Earth, able to carry a sky scraper with ease. She could help people, make a difference like she hadn't been able to on Krypton.
But on others, like today, seemingly at random, she'd woken up powerless, so skinny she'd struggle to pick up a back pack. Clark had said that it had been the same for him, but that it would in time stabilize. That didn't help much when her much younger cousin Jon's powers didn't stutter at all. Which was why Superman and Superboy had gone off on patrol over the eastern sea board together, leaving the currently powerless Kara behind, feeling weak and useless.
"I bet Power Girl doesn't have this problem. Rao, I'm so skinny. I don't have any breasts or hips or muscle or anything. I eat and eat and eat and get no results," the ultra svelte blonde sighed while she looked in the mirror, seeing a rail thin blonde in jeans and a tank top that were hanging off her, tried to make a bicep and got nothing, "I bet she'd kick someone's ass even without powers."
A large lurch and a crash from the hall made her start, heart thudding with fear. Without her powers she was both blind, deaf and weak. If one of Clark's or her own enemies were attacking or just a simple break in, she'd be helpless.
"Come on, you're Supergirl don't be a little...bitch," she whispered to herself, squatting to pick up a small hand weight from the floor.
She'd started working out on the average two days a week she was powerless and got nothing but sore for her efforts. The pink 5lb dumb bell was incredibly heavy, threatening to pull her off balance but gave her some self confidence. She cracked open the door, dropping the weight when she saw her Aunt sprawled out on the floor.
"Aunt Lois, are you okay?" Kara squeaked, wishing that she didn't sound like a total coward and rushing to the older woman's side.
"Ugh...I feel like I got hit by a locomotive,"the reporter moaned, hands pressed over her eyes, "Tell Smallville to get me some coffee. And some cookie dough. Then some doughnuts."
Kara liked her Aunt Lois. She could be a little mean, especially to Clark, but as Matriarch of the House of El that was her right in Kryptonian society and the Reporter loved and protected her family like a Tigress protected its cubs. She had a self confidence Kara wished that she had, even if it bordered on suicidal. What bothered Kara was that her Aunt was kinda...fat.
She wasn't fat like so many people in America, so sloppily obese that they appeared a separate species, but Lois was clearly letting herself go. No one on Krypton had been fat, but Lois was steadily gaining weight. Older pictures had shown a slim and fit woman but Kara had only ever known a chubby, out of shape Lois who'd rather squeeze into control garments than moderate her eating or exercise readily. It was hard not to be judgemental, especially as Kara was trying and failing to gain weight, but Lois just seemed to be letting herself go, having gained another 15lbs in the year Kara had been on earth. Coming from a planet where diets were controlled by computers and advanced circuit suits and genetic engineering kept everyone in top shape all the time, it was startling to see.
Right now, her Aunt seemed full on flabby, pouring out of a set of red pajamas. The top button of her pajama top was undone to accommodate Lois' heavy mom boobs, while the bottom was unsnapped to let a rather large tummy breathe. Her hips seemed ready to split what should have been loose pants and her chin had a little double.
"Really are you okay? I'm not sure I can do anything if you aren't okay. Please be okay. Should I call a doctor?" Kara asked, the House of El's traditional anxiety shooting through her, "Clark had said to let you sleep and that you wouldn't be up for a while but that I should let you sleep in unless there was an emergency and really this is kinda seeming like one. Because if you're hurt I can't really do anything right now because I had a bad dream which made me wake up depowered and now they won't come back until I'm emotionally secure and that won't happen until my powers come back and your species doesn't know how to do math."
"Kid, please stop talking. I'm just hung over, hungry and kind of sick," Lois moaned, "and really shouldn't have landed on my ass after last night where I...never mind. Just put me back in bed and get me some coffee. And some cough syrup and some waffles. And some bacon."
A closer look confirmed the sick part. Lois' fair skin was sweaty, she had bags under her eyes and she sounded congested. Lois being sick didn't concern Kara that much from a fearful perspective. After all, Kryptonians couldn't get a human disease unless it was specially tailored and the chances of that seemed low. What did worry her was somehow getting her aunt up when she had all the amazing lifting powers of a hundred pound girl at her command. Being this close Lois seemed awful chubby and the bedroom very far away.
Wisdom suggested Kara leave her rather porky Aunt here. She'd probably pass out soon she was so groggy. But while she might be moody and complaining at the moment, Kara was a hero to her core and wasn't about to leave her adopted Matriarch on the carpet.
"Okay, I'm going to help you up," Super Girl decided, bending down and getting one skinny arm under Lois' shoulders, "on three. One, two and three!"
Lois felt incredibly heavy to the svelte girl and also incredibly soft. It was like sticking her arm under a ton of butter really and Kara couldn't help but squeeze a bit of back fat. Her groggy and disgruntled Aunt wasn't much help, leaving the work to the soon sweaty Kara. The sickened reporter let out a moan as she slowly sat up, a button flying off her pajama pants as her swollen belly pressed into it. The surprisingly firm, slowly rumbling gut bumped into Kara's washboard belly, almost knocking the slight girl over.
"Ugh, thanks," Lois muttered before dissolving into a fit of sneezing, "sorry. I'd hate to get you sick."
"Don't worry, earth viruses won't hurt me. Powers or not. Probably," the blonde shrugged, "now stand up and lets get you back to bed."
Standing Lois up was even harder, the exhausted woman leaning heavily onto Kara the whole time. Sweaty boob flesh kept hitting her in the face, Lois not wearing a bra despite her rather impressive size, and her broad hips made it difficult for the skinny Kryptonian to get a good grip. It made Kara more than a little jealous, she ate just as much as Lois, why couldn't she get a body like that?
Both women were trembling by the time Kara dragged Lois into the bedroom, flopping the hung over reporter onto bed. A rather large bubble butt was hanging out of Lois' pants, nude surface still bearing red hand prints. That alone made Kara blush, as did noticing her Aunt still had a pair of fuzzy hand cuffs clamped on one hand.
Physical sex hadn't been a thing on Krypton, Kara had been a test tube baby like a thousand generations of her ancestors. But she did appreciate the physical affection her Cousin and his wife shared, even if it baffled her. Nor could she blame Clark for indulging, when his wife was so voluptuously attractive. Lois was nothing but exquisite, drool worthy curves from head to toe after all. Just looking at her made Kara jealous.
"Thanks,' Lois mumbled, snuggling into the covers, "can you get some breakfast for me..."
"Sure thing Aunt Lois,' Kara promised, recipe ideas running through her head and a rumble of hunger coming from her own stomach, "I'll cook you a big one..."
Her worries soothed by a task, Supergirl found herself in the kitchen, trailing a blur of displaced air. She smiled at the return of her powers, unaware that her super metabolism had vanished on the stair case and was never, ever going to come back. Not that she cared.

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Read Saturday Night GIF by HULU
Another chapter! Awwww yis! We got Super-Lois, we got matron-mode Selina snuggling with Cassandra, we got Kara, we got Powergirl... 

look closer terry crews GIF by Brooklyn Nine-Nine
... uh... we got Powergirl...

gosick GIF
Oh... I should’ve known. Desserts last. Wait, is Powergirl “dessert” or is she second supper?

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That was a damn good chapter.  Drunk and Horny Lois is something I did not realize I needed, and I love the idea that Clark was into BBWs/feederism even before Ivy's plague.  Makes me wonder if he experimented with Lana back in high school and had her needing a new cheer uniform every year.

Then there's Mama Cat, who is just delightful.  Selina struggling with this other side of herself is great, and seeing her mollycoddle Cass is so sweet, funny, and sweetly funny.  And oh man, the description of that threesome between Steph, Cass, and Tim...that definitely made my day.

And last, poor Kara.  As if her life wasn't weird enough already, she's about to pile on the pounds like she never could before.  I'll be curious to see how this works for her this time around.

All in all, I'm loving where this story is going, and I can't wait to see the next chapter!


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7 hours ago, nomercy58 said:

Loved it as always. Can’t wait to see an Artemis update or  something with Z

Two chapters for one, one chapter for the other.


1 hour ago, 46400839 said:

Well looks like you were right, I did like this chapter quite a bit. 

happy to please.


4 hours ago, CyrilFiggus said:

That was a damn good chapter.  Drunk and Horny Lois is something I did not realize I needed, and I love the idea that Clark was into BBWs/feederism even before Ivy's plague.  Makes me wonder if he experimented with Lana back in high school and had her needing a new cheer uniform every year.

Then there's Mama Cat, who is just delightful.  Selina struggling with this other side of herself is great, and seeing her mollycoddle Cass is so sweet, funny, and sweetly funny.  And oh man, the description of that threesome between Steph, Cass, and Tim...that definitely made my day.

And last, poor Kara.  As if her life wasn't weird enough already, she's about to pile on the pounds like she never could before.  I'll be curious to see how this works for her this time around.

All in all, I'm loving where this story is going, and I can't wait to see the next chapter!


Why thank you.

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I don't post much, but I have to pop in to say that ALL the descriptions of Lois in this story have been so hot and so descriptive. Nice work!

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Paging @>_< 0_0 , Paging @>_< 0_0 .

Chapter 10: Exponential
Almost all changes are incremental.
They build slowly, over months or years or centuries. Tiny motions, such as the flow of tides or the drift of continents that leave an unrecognizable landscape in their wake. Only at a crisis do previously oblivious observers notice that a coast line is under water or that a rock formation has decayed into pebbles.
As it was for geography, so was it for the spectacular body of one Karen Starr, CEO of StarrWare and also the Superheroine known as Power Girl.
"...so as we finish the initial build up, we're expecting a rapid rise across all sectors," Karen said, sliding a laser pointer across the projected graph, "leading to growth at a rate and on a scale never seen before."
Power Girl hated investment meetings. For the CEO of a tech company she preferred to dress like a complete bum, leggings and a sweater were formal wear by her standards, but Starrware always needed money to fuel itself and she had to dress to impress. A red pencil skirt and matching blazer, kept loose and a little baggy in contrast to her skin tight super hero costume.
"Are we sure we can handle this type of expansion?" one of the investors asked.
"Absolutely, we have a very strong foundation to build off of," the broad shouldered heroine said, giving a wry grin, "possibly the strongest."
Karen went to pains to hide her secret identity. Her company was her way to help the world beyond handing out super powered beatings and couldn't operate if super villains were trying to tear it down every day. So she covered her short golden hair with a curly red wig, wore green contacts and thick glasses over her blazing blue eyes and put on some special Kryptonian makeup to hide her bronzed tan. But covering up just those details wouldn't mean much if she didn't hide having a one in a million figure under her clothes. So she wore clothes that were loose and frumpy, slightly disguising her one in a billion figure.
"But there can be growing pains handling volume of this size," one of the board members suggested.
"Absolutely, Starrware has always dreamed of being a huge corporation. We'll transition through these big changes so smoothly we won't even know they'll happen," Karen smiled, tugging slightly at her skirt as the slide changed to a different graph, "as you can see we'll be investing majorly into new super foods and predicting very enticing results."
It'd been a while since she'd last had to wear this particular ensemble and it must have shrank in her closet. Karen was used to wearing tight clothes in her super hero get up, but this monkey suit was giving her a wedgie it was so tight. Not that she'd gotten to wear her super hero get up recently, a lack of supervillain activity in NY coinciding with her patrol schedule.
"Are we prepared to deal with changes in our efficiency? Right now Starrware is lean and mean, as it gets bigger it could lose its effectiveness under bulk and red tape," another investor suggested.
"We're sure that dealing with a much bigger company will be different, but if our fundamentals remain strong it shouldn't weigh us down too much," Power Girl said calmly.
She really hated these meetings. First she had to do a lot of work preparing, keeping her in doors. Second the questions were always so inane and lastly these clothes were so uncomfortable. The belt felt like a vice and the skirt felt like a prison, squeezing her tight. Her invulnerability didn't protect against minor irritants like tight clothes and it was driving her nuts. She was actually having to suck in her abs to not get pinched, how tight were these clothes?
Finally the meeting ended, satisfied investors filing out after she gave very careful handshakes. Karen kept her megawatt smile on the whole time until her assistant came in, a short girl with blue eyes and black hair.
"You look like you got hit with Joker venom going by that grin," Atlee told her with a throaty chuckle, handing over a bear claw and a latte.
Atlee was an old friend, one Karen hadn't seen for quite a while until recently. The much shorter woman was from an entirely separate society deep beneath the earth and had geomantic powers to match, having served a short stint as the superheroine Terra. But she'd left the super hero life behind for several years before returning to NYC out of the blue to catch up, Karen hiring her on the spot.
"Investment boards are worse than Joker gas," Power Girl said, undoing her belt as she bit into the donut, "or so I'd guess. Only crazy people go to Gotham."
Atlee had come back to New York with a lot more experience of surface life...and fifty five extra pounds stuck to her no longer teenage metabolism. Moving nation sized rocks about required a lot of mental prowess but burned almost no calories. And food on the surface was a lot better than beneath the earth. After she'd quit heroing and exercising she'd grown a thick layer of blubbery padding, sporting a jelly belly and fat girl breasts.
"There's a reason to avoid it," Atlee said, looking down at the belt and the stretched notch as Karen undid it, "you okay there?"
"Yeah, these must have shrank in the wash," Power Girl said, sighing with relief as the belt came undone, "they're worse than Kryptonite."
"Your belt shrank in the wash? You wash your belt?" Atlee asked, eyeing the bulge against Karen's skirt and blouse, "I'm the last one to say it but you might be getting a little thick."
"Yeah, of course I'm thick. Thicker than a normal woman could be, 38 X 24 X 38 G," Karen yawned sucking down high calorie coffee.
"Okay, I'll believe you on the 38 parts," her friend smiled, "but while I'd hate to criticize my boss, I'm not sure if 24 inches is your waist measurement."
"Its the clothes," the blonde said, gesturing to her waist, "big boobs and baggy clothes hide how I'm ripped. Lots of girls have huge boobs and a chubby belly, but if you see a six pack and head sized knockers you think super hero. Costume illusory should be one of my super powers."
Karen's clothes were the opposite of baggy, stretched to the breaking point at the waist especially. Atlee saw that the blouse button above her skirt was stretched wide, showing soft looking flesh.
"Could have fooled me," the plump subterranean shrugged as Power Girl planted her rump onto the chair.
Karen's skirt button had been under a lot of pressure all meeting. Threads had been stretched so taut for so long that at the surge of her violent plop they shredded. It shot off, landing square in Atlee's cleavage.
"Are you sure you're not gaining weight, Peej?" Atlee blinked, fishing the button from her boobs.
"Of course I'm sure, I must have just flexed too hard. You know how thick my abs are...," the blonde gulped looking down and seeing nothing but seemingly infinite cleavage like normal even as her super hearing reported her zipper going swiftly down.
Atlee padded over, extending a finger to plunge into the rather juicy looking fat rolls flowing out of the skirt.
"Yeah they seem pretty thick alright," the plump girl told her friend.
Gotham City is the cloudiest city in the continental United States, on average boasting 234 overcast days per year, making it one of the chillier metropolitan areas as well.
Selina Kyle didn't know this as she cared about almost anything else more than she cared about weather trivia. But strutting from the air conditioned air port terminal into the parking lot of Las Vegas' air port and getting a blast of heat to her face was enough to make her miss Gotham's foggy, polluted skies.
"Good grief I'm going to freckle head to toe in this sun," Selina snarled, hurrying to the waiting limosuine and plopping her buns onto the leather seat, "and my thighs are going to stick to this seat!"
Who she was complaining to was a mystery even to her, but she was in a crap mood. Cats are as a general rule not good fliers and the early morning private flight had given Selina a stomach too upset to even lightly snack. And the only dress she could find to fit her had been painfully snug, showing off lots of pampered curves. And to make it worse, that nasty cold she'd picked up two weeks ago looking after her darling baby girl-
"I should be home taking care of my b**s," Selina cooed, then slapped herself in the face, "Damn it Cat get it together. You're in this hellhole of a city to get this crazy curse removed from your perfectly padded posterior, even if it means talking to that backwards talking magician fraud."
"What was I doing splurging on so many six fours and sixes?" Selina groused to herself, digging through her purse for one of the pound bags of candy that should have already been digesting happily in her belly, "I know Bruce is rich but I've never been able to stay beneath an eight for more than a month straight."
The fat phobic Catwoman was no more, thanks to Ivy's virus. An illusory memory had been crafted to protect her ego, where Selina was slim thick at her leanest, a life long yo yo dieter who tended to plump up in between heists. In her mind she'd dieted down far too thin for her wedding, an impossible to maintain weight that she was rapidly rebounding past. That this little black dress was painted onto her, demonstrating that her once perfect physique was nothing but problem areas from the boobs down was of no consequence. She munched merrily on sugar during the drive: a nutritionally vacant swirl of soda and candy that amounted to over a thousand empty calories. Selina was deeply aware of what she was doing and how many days it had been since any serious exercise besides sex and had no regrets. She hadn't married a billionaire to have to stay in shape after all, the day of her wedding had been the last time she'd ever control herself around food and thankfully Bruce had always liked her better when she was curvier.
Or so she remembered.
After all, women looked much better with soft curves, as Selina herself demonstrated getting out of the limo. Thighs that were plump but still mostly shapely made a strange sucking/ripping sound as they peeled their plump bottom surface off of the leather. Girthy, child bearing hips brushed the sides of the limo door when she stepped out. Her dress' skirt had ridden up to expose half the slopes of her ass, each pale bun jiggling merrily as Selina pulled the taut fabric back down over the deepening cellulite dimples.
The fancy dress had been cut for a far slimmer Catwoman. Covering her ass meant less fabric was available to cover the rest of her body, her breasts nearly popping out. The pale Ds seemed ready to leap out of her bra, the 31 year old's recent growth spurt having left them looking swollen and feeling very sensitive. Less pleasant was her belt pressing snug against her waist, while Selina was growing mostly below the belt her abs had still turned into a sloppy pot belly muffin topping over her thong.
Sweat already coating her body, Selina sashayed from the limo up the ramps towards the luxurious casino. Thankfully Vegas had been built with the obese and infirm in mind, so Selina didn't have to bare the heat long or strain her weakening muscles even a little. After all, she was already going to meet a Justice League magician so she didn't need to make her day worse by exercising.
As she entered the high rise Casino, a digital display above her switched to advertise the fish-net clad thighs of famous magician Zatanna Zataran...
"You know, if I wasn't a good person I'd sell tickets to this," Atlee said, popping another handful of potato chips into her mouth, "really just the jiggles alone would let us fund your next company expansion."
"This isn't funny Atlee! I'm fat! I can't be fat! Its like me being brunette!" Power Girl near shouted back at her, eyes wide as a panicked horse.
The two were back at Karen's apartment, having abandoned Starrware until its CEO could be appropriately attired. Atlee's chubby butt was plopped down onto Karen's bed while Power Girl dug through her closet with the intensity of a lazy devil going after souls. Judging by the ever growing pile of non-fitting formal clothes piling up next to Atlee, it looked like it would be a while before the two went back to work.
"Please, you're not fat. Well, not that fat," the over pudgy Atlee grinned to herself patting her own pudgy paunch, "you're more "squishy thick". Or head cheerleader after she had a baby soft."
"You're not helping!" Karen groaned, shoving her thighs into a pair of slacks and bending to haul the pants upwards, "instead of doing there eating my snacks why don't you do something productive like...er..."
"Get a tape measure?" the subterranean girl asked gleefully.
"On second thought just sit there," the nervous Kryptonian said.
Atlee watched the heavy bounce of PG's breasts, their wobbliness seeming to have noticeably amplified. They shook and jiggled in her bra like jello in a mold, obviusly less pert than before. Just as enticing was how the bottom edge of the bra pinched into Karen's upper belly fat. A meaty upper roll formed across her stomach, others popping out beneath her as she bent over in a pathetic comparison of her old abs. When she was finally standing up, Karen's rolls faded back into a lazy paunch collected around her navel that resolutely blocked the fastening of her pants.
"Damn it, come on. I can lift a building, I can button pants," PG muttered.
"Oh suck in your stomach! That might help!," Atlee advised, using the expertise granted to her by four years as a fat girl.
"It's not helping," Karen wheezed, her squishy stomach pulled back into a more solid looking torso that was still too thick for her pants to button around.
"Yeah, usually it doesn't," the dark haired chubster giggled evilly as a loud rip sounded and the slacks tore apart in Karen's hands, leaving the blonde in just bra and panties.
"Ugh, if you weren't one of my best friends I'd hate you," the blonde glared, going back to the closet, "why didn't any one tell me I was getting fat?"
"Well at work I highly doubt anyone is gonna say "Hi Boss, stacking a few pounds I see?"" Atlee said, mentally noting that Karen's bubble butt looked a little droopy and deflated, "why hasn't anyone said anything when you're pouring out of your super suit?"
"I've barely worn it the last couple weeks. Work's been crazy, I don't think I've even had to respond to an emergency since that weird tech-bro cult tried to shoot a building into space," Power Girl said, groping clumsily for more clothes.
"So you're saying you haven't exercised in a while?" Atlee pointed out, digging another hand into the bag of chips, "Its a good thing you keep such a careful diet."
"Well, I guess I haven't done anything super in a bit," Power Girl admitted sheepishly, catching sight of her out of shape body in the mirror, "but that shouldn't matter. Soaking up sunlight is what gives me my abilities, both the super strength and the physique."
The blonde tried flexing, her usually mighty bicep just looking meaty. The repeated attempts to flex didn't make her muscle pop to its customary extent, but it did make a little collection of fat beneath her triceps wiggle.
"In that case I'll have to be blunt," Atlee said with mock gentleness, "but while I was looking at your rolls of back fat I couldn't help but notice you're paler than normal."
"What the, there's no way I have back fat," the Kryptonian insisted, twisting around to notice with horror that her lower back was extremely squishy, "oh shit I have back fat. I didn't even know backs could get fat!"
She turned back to the mirror, taking in a soft, toneless body. All of her marvelous muscle mass had turned soft, it was like she was in a wet suit full of a thin layer of jello. The curve of her waist had filled in, while her limbs were looking plumper and weaker. Even her boobs were looking sadder, the mighty mammaries seeming to slump in their cups.
And beyond it, or maybe on top of it, was that the glow of Karen's tan had worn off.
"Crap I'm losing my tan. I've gone from bronze to...I don't know, copper or something?" she asked in exasperation, "Ugh, I look awful. I've got these bags under my eyes. I just want to throw on sweat pants and cry. What's happening to me?"
The tall woman flopped onto the clothes covered bed, sending Atlee off it from the bounce. The brunette might be undeniably the chubbier of the two but Karen was a big woman even before she'd plumped up. Thankfully her friend was plenty padded herself and suffered no injury beyond her pride, her stomach bulging over her leggings and into clear view.
"Wait, sweat pants!" Atlee rolled to her feet, "Karen what do you wear when you go outside?"
"I don't know, a hoody and leggings," the miserable CEO said into her blanket, "wait...are you saying that I'm starving myself of solar power?"
"Well, they're you're powers not mine but it could be I guess?" Atlee offered.
Power Girl surged up, levitating back to standing and noticing that her usually perfect flight powers took a bare milisecond to kick in. But the look on her face was euphoric.
"That has to be it. I've been working myself to the bone at my job, I haven't been tanning at all and because I haven't fought any crime no one noticed me getting chubbier! I've been feeling weak and crappy and tired for the last month," Karen said, observing her cuddly form in the mirror, "In a way I'm lucky this happened now. Imagine how fat and weak I'd have gotten otherwise? Now I know I just need to shoot down to Jamaica and lay on a beach for a weekend and I'll be fit as a fiddle."
"Aww, that's such a shame. You look so cute with this tummy," Atlee said in a mock saccharine tone, while cruelly pinching the blonde's puffy starter belly.
"Yeowch!" Power Girl snapped, falling to her feet at the sudden pinch, "careful Atlee that hurts, I'm not used to being vulnerable."
"Oh I know. Really, I'm sorry you're feeling so shitty. But after seeing you eat like you eat for so long its kind a funny seeing you get a little chubby," the brunette said, fingers not letting go of the flab, "but I'll keep your secret, no one will ever know that Power Girl was chubby for a while...on one condition."
"...what?" Karen sighed.
"We fill you up to the brim with pizza and chinese, then take a picture of you in your super suit," Atlee teased, "I'll keep it safe and secret forever...and take me with you on your vacation."
"Fine, I was going to anyway," Karen rolled her eyes, "now let's get some food ordered. Being chubby is making me hungry."
Karen's cellphone went off, a loud and insistent ring not normally found on any Waynephone.
"Crap, that's a league emergency," Karen groaned, seeing Wonder Woman's face on the screen, "a big one if Diana needs help. And not one I can ignore."
"Huh, so does your costume stretch?" Atlee asked wryly.

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Hoo boy...and it begins for poor PG.  I'm loving Atlee's banter with her, with the former Terra kind of replacing Harley from the interactive.  Their little vacation is going to be amazing--assuming this League emergency doesn't derail that.  

And I'll be curious to see how Zatanna plays into this.  I'm assuming that, just like all the others, there will be some other factor making her gain weight beyond Ivy's plague, and I'm looking forward to seeing what it is.

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Karen Starr gives presentations as if she teaches economics 👀 Also, a vacation on a tropical island? Just as Diana phones-in!? What emergency could be happening!? Everything’s fine! See? No big crimes. Also, oil futures is -35.60$ today and flights are super cheap — we MUST go. Diana should come too 😏

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