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On 7/4/2020 at 12:26 AM, >_< 0_0 said:

Hashishan is what you say when you say assassin with your mouth full. I think 

Of ** brownies specifically.

 

New update finally on a new computer, this time back to Lois and Selina after a shockingly long time away.

 

They're still fat though as a spoiler.

 

Chapter 19: Growing into Motherhood
 
Lois had landed in Gotham's ritzy high end dining district feeling and looking like a million bucks.
 
The hundred mile, high speed self flight had gotten the leggy brunette's endorphin's pumping, every muscle in her body singing with the joy of activity. Lois hadn't felt this good winning an All State track race in college twenty years earlier. Hell she hadn't felt this good winning her first Pullitzer a few years after that or on her wedding day. She might be a 247lb heifer of a woman on the wrong side of 40, but she hadn't felt this fit and happy as an athletic 20 year old!
 
"Holy shit I just flew!" the jubilant woman said to herself as her heels settled down onto a back alley, "I just flew! Why didn't Smallville ever tell me how good flying feels?"
 
The hyper curvy hour glass ran her purple painted nails through her flight tousseled hair, unable to suppress an ear to ear smile at the display of power. She had to tell someone, Clark, Kara, her son...hell could she tell everyone? Good as she felt, she was a bit too old and a bit too...round to go squeezing into spandex and punching out villains in front of banks. She'd rather punch out banks truth be told...
 
"No, not yet. Not until I figure out what's causing this at least and make sure its temporary," Lois cautioned herself, knowing that the universe was weird enough to occasionally hand out god like powers for a few days before revoking them, "I'll talk to Clark after this dinner date about it...or maybe show him..."
 
The sexual possibilities of having a mate capable of flight and super human stamina had never slipped Lois by. But adding her own power set into the occasion...well, now she could really let loose! Reverse cow girl on a lunar crater and a hundred other sexual positions across various high points of the solar system slid through her mind, the reporter having difficulty pushing them down despite going twice that day already. Since this strange empowerment had begun her sex drive, never low, had gone through the roof.
 
"Head in the game, Lois," she said to herself, forcing herself into the flow of foot traffic towards the restaraunt she was supposed to meet Selina in, "if you keep thinking about that you'll come before the appetizers and given what you are now that might break the building."
 
Wrapped up as she was in her own prowess, Lois didn't notice the near universal degree of chubbiness in the women around her. Skirts hung tight to puffy FUPA's and girthy hips, soft bellies made buttons gap on overloaded blouses, no thigh on either side of the street left its neighbor and there were twice as many chins as women. Even the thinnest girl was extra chubby, Lois' girthy bulk didn't even make her stand out. Apart from her breasts she was solidly middle of the pack!
 
Part of her distraction was reveling in the endorphins flooding her system and trying to distract herself from rampant sexual lust. But the rest was the siren smells of the restaurants around her. Sizziling grade A+ meat on hot grills, fresh cut potatoes frying in golden oil, ice cream being hand scooped onto steaming hot pies, Lois' enhanced nose could smell every sensual spice and seasoning for blocks around. Despite her rather abundant over eating already that day, the plus size reporter's flight had left her the slightest bit peckish, meaning that she was soon adequately distracted from thoughts of how she'd gotten super powers and how to use them on her husband to satiating her hunger.
 
With a very super human feat of will, Lois ignored several restaurants despite her stomach beginning to audibly growl. She had an appointment to keep and even though the flight had put her in Gotham early, she wasn't going to fill up on junk with a 5 Star French/Atlantean fusion place to look forwards to. If she was going to be a food critic, a job accepted seemingly months ago, the raven haired reporter was going to have to learn how to savor her food.
 
"Not that some ice cream wouldn't hit the spot," the huge breasted woman sniffed sadly, stepping smartly into the door of the swanky eatery.
 
A smart young waitress in stylish skirt and stockings (that had probably been quite flattering forty pounds earlier) smiled immediately upon seeing her. While the waitress' body had obviously gone to seed since Ivy's virus had reached epidemic status, she'd also learned to guage just how much a client could eat upon walking into the building and smelling the kitchen. And judging by how wide this busty woman's purple eyes went, it was going to be a lot.
 
"A friend of mine has a reservation but I'm here early, geeze, I'm an hour early," Lois told her, leaning slightly forwards towards the shorter woman and showing a canyon of pert cleavage, "should I wait or can I be seated?"
 
"Well, that depends, what's the name on the reservation?" the merely plump waitress smiled, judging by the loose fit of Lois' new clothes that this zeppelin chested woman was going to celebrate comfortable clothes by eating her way out of them.
 
"Well," Lois said, leaning into whisper, "her last name is Wayne..."
 
That made the waitress' grin go blindingly bright. The name Wayne meant money, the last time someone with that last name had come in here it had been an unsightly muscular Asian girl with a very well padded blonde friend. The amount of food bought had been immense and the tip had been enormous.
 
"I believe I can seat you now," the waitress grinned, "right this way..."
 
Lois followed along, hips just missing hitting some chairs as she was led to a room at the very back of the main dining room. It was quiet and private, with a huge booth that Lois was easily able to shrug her way into...although her breasts over hung the table by a few inches, her dangling Daily Planet ID card brushing the polished marble.
 
"Here's our appetizer menu and can I get you a drink while you wait?" the waitress asked with an grin that only grew deeper as Lois' stomach rumbled.
 
"Oh, that's fine just some water, I'm on...," Lois began, almost saying the dreaded D word as her stomach started to rumble.
 
She should really start a diet, several months ago. Lois was twice her fighting weight and had eaten like a pig all day. She was wearing a size twenty skirt suit and it wasn't loose. The only exercise she got was in bed anymore and while she was now super human it didn't seem a super metabolism came with her new powers. Her husband had a fat fetish and the bigger she got the hornier he got which meant the hornier she got which meant the more she ate...
 
But she was hungry. And that flight had to have burned a lot of calories, she'd flown hundreds of miles an hour. And how often did you get to celebrate getting super powers on a Wayne account? Hell, she was a food critic now, she'd better get in some practice on writing up deliciously decadent food...
 
"I'll start off with some scampi," the self convinced Lois said, "and besides the water, how about some wine..."
 
....
 
Selina Kyle was fighting a losing battle.
 
Metaphorically, her attempts to parent her adopted daughter in her own style were failing. Selina couldn't be in the same room as Cassandra without cooing and awing over the mute assassin, her personality shifting into saccharine sweetness suitable for a sitcom. Every mustered bit of courage faded, the Olympian curse over writing her personality and dooming her to a life time of baking in heels and pearls while popping out Wayne heir after heir.
 
"I need to put my foot down," Selina said to herself, "I've got less than seven months to change or I'm doomed!"
 
She said this with one thick leg arched on a foot stool in her cavernous closet, while attempting to buckle a stocking to a garter belt, failing due to the sheer amount of Selina Kyle between the black lace and elastic. Soft, squishy, sensual softness shook and shimmied as Catwoman's fingers, once able to crack a safe in two seconds flat, fumbled at the small hook and eye. She was also fighting a losing battle in an attempt to shove herself into her clothes.
 
"Really, is it that hard to just...parent?" the retired thief huffed, trying to tug the tight stocking over her thigh fat, "and maybe resist a divine curse or two..."
 
The constantly gaining billionaire wife was wearing just her stockings, thong and garter belt. Selina's corpulent, lazy legs pressed tight at the nylons, already putting runs into them. While they'd been ordered XL, the soft girth of Catwoman's slapping thighs and droopy cankles was slightly beyond the designer's assumptions. If the stretching fabric managed to last the ride to the restaraunt before the rich woman shoveled more fattening fare into herself it would be a miracle.
 
"I was Catwoman, I dieted myself down to a size eight just to go after jewels. I can tell a quiet girl to clean her room without loosing myself, can't I?" the delusional woman huffed, with difficulty snapping one of the garter straps to a stocking and letting out a sigh of relief.
 
That sigh made Selina's increasingly bulging belly, sucked in to let her see her work, relax. The skin tight garter belt fixed around her love handles and paunch couldn't take the strain, buttons giving way with a rip and a pop as Selina's gut surged outwards. Although still immensely bottom heavy, the sheer amount of food being shoveled down her throat these days meant her gut was independently at fat status.
 
"Hmm, really shouldn't try and fit into something so taut around the waist when I'm showing," the barely two months pregnant woman tutted to herself, abandoning the ruined garment and heading over to something so forgetting, "especially when I'm eating for two."
 
Really the green eyed woman ate enough for an entire family of five, but her gluttony had sky rocketed since finding out she'd at last conceived. Partly it was due to hormonal surges giving the already fat woman even more appetite, but mostly it was due to Selina's own viral delusions making her think she needed to eat more when almost any doctor would tell her to immediately diet. She gorged from when she woke up until when she finally permanently passed out around midnight, stomach constantly rounded with food. The gain was super charged both by her own penchant for somnambulist snacking during her daily cat naps and Cassandra's new hobby of funnel feeding her sleeping adopted mother melted butter after the fit girl's nights of crime fighting.
 
As a result, Selina had blown past two hundred pounds in an eye blink. Her old pound a day normal was gone, a full pound and a half of adipose appearing on her body every single day at minimum until she now jiggled in at 228lbs. For a woman who'd have fainted to be over 140 it was surprising, but Ivy's virus insured the once diet focused Selina was fat and happy. Even her memory was being rewritten, Catwoman now remembering her old minimum as a fit thick size 165lbs at the smallest, a weight she'd been able to hold for only days at best before going up to a normal of 200lbs. She now remembered most of her escapades as non-physical adventures, using seduction, hacking and pick pocketing instead of agile infiltration.
 
The heavy, squishy thighs that slapped into each other as she neared her dresses were incapable of not waddling and far too thick for anything but sweat pants. Her gut would have doubled over itself if not still swollen from a 3rd lunch gorge and a cookie baking session with her step daughter where Selina had eaten 3/4ths of the dough before it was even cooked. A metaphorically traffic stopping ass was so fat it could literally deflect a low impact collision. So late in the day was it, that all of the food in her gut made the once wasp waisted Selina looked 8 months pregnant, only the jiggle of relatively small love handles suggesting it was a low area of gains.
 
"None of this is going to fit, I really need to get some stylish maternity wear," the overweight thief said to herself, cupping her sore, swollen breasts, "and some better bras. I can't sit around the manor all day in sweats, I haven't gone into the office since before I went to Vegas. I can't just sit around all day and be a brainless mom, what's the point of being incredibly rich if I can't order a company around?"
 
Selina finally settled on an Imperially waisted dress, one that would show off her swelling mom-tits with aplomb and leave plenty of room to to eat in. It was a slight compromise, it was only slit to the hip on a single side so it would only barely show off her legs and didn't cling to her hips like she wanted. But the ex-burglar knew she looked good in it, she'd worn it to an opera with Bruce and had the 8th best orgasm of her life afterwards while still in it.
 
"The things I have to do to show off my figure," the radiant woman huffed, sliding her plump feet and heavy cankles into it as she began pulling the fabric up her legs, "its almost like fashion designers can't make clothes for a real woman!"
 
Catwoman was highly unused to physical activity anymore, hard muscles long since decayed into soft mush. Once able to scamper up the sides of buildings, she was soon puffing just from getting the dress up past her hips! Every tug and hop sent ripples through her lazy bulk but brought the once loose garment no closer to closing.
 
"I guess I did wear this six weeks ago, a woman of my condition and station can't fit into the same thing every day," Selina sighed with the dress still stuck on her thighs, "I'll have to get something else..."
 
A brief glance at the shockingly small dresses and her own stuffed gut showed Selina that "something else" wasn't in this room.
 
"Better send Lois a text I'll be a bit late," the pregnant, obese thief mused, "I won't stand her up but I can't be seen dressed in anything less than the 9s. She wouldn't recognize me other wise."
 
That there was a hundred pounds more Selina to go around since she'd last seen her bridesmaid slipped the thief's mind.
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Yes! The saga continues! And I was really wondering what Selina was up to. 
Snacking. She was up to snacking 👌

I’m honestly amazed that no one has noticed what going on. Probably has to do with Poison Ivy being oblivious to weight gain. That trait slipped into the virus genome.

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10 hours ago, >_< 0_0 said:

Yes! The saga continues! And I was really wondering what Selina was up to. 
Snacking. She was up to snacking 👌

I’m honestly amazed that no one has noticed what going on. Probably has to do with Poison Ivy being oblivious to weight gain. That trait slipped into the virus genome.

"Man *munch" every woman *crunch* has gotten *swallow* so *urp* fat!"

Every one who doesn't have super powers is viewing the weight gain in others as a good thing. as for themselves, they view themselves as always having been overweight and having only gained a little bit.

 

That said I'm going to have someone figure stuff out and start to investigate...in a bit.

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Next chapter, there's a lot of eating in this:

 

Chapter 20: the Meeting of the Milfs
 
"The calamari has that rare and wonderful mix of springy chewiness and fresh crispness that so is so difficult to master. Everything from the diagonal cut of the squid tentacles, to the herbs in the butter/extra virgin olive oil mix it is fried in, to the delightfully crunchy breading combines for a truely enlightening experience on the tongue. It digests easily, sitting on the stomach light as a feather," Lois scrawled into her notebook, her pen leaving behind a trail of barely legible cursive that looked like the writing of a child instead of a prize winning journalist.
 
Mouth watering at her own description, the raven haired woman reached for more fried squid. Unfortunately her lilac nails found only a layer of oil and crumbs on the plate, making a frown split Lois cherubic features. She was in a munching mood and a writing mood, the lack of munchies was throwing off the later.
 
"Damn, must have eaten faster than I thought," the reporter mused, sucking the fattening mix of oil and breading off her fingers, setting the pen down and taking a long sip of white wine.
 
To her alarm, the pen started rolling away from her. Super human reflexes grabbed it before Lois would have to bend, but her curious mind wondered why such a high end establishment would have such an uneven table. She looked down, seeing only her own sunkissed cleavage nestled in her snug red blouse...before noticing the slightest pressure against her stomach. Craning her head and gently pushing her stupendous rack in, Lois saw the curve of her crimson jacket pushing hard against the edge of the table.
 
Purple eyes widened at the bulge. The brunette had a gut of course, as any 250 lber would, but her hour glass gain meant it was a minor part of her figure compared to her hips and chest. A soft, hesitant poke at the taunt fabric found an unusual firmness beneath the thick layer of dough curling around the marble, evidence of a major feast.
 
"How much have I eaten?" Lois asked herself, a glance at the watch around her plump wrist showing she'd been sitting her for nearly an hour and a half, she opened up her notebook and her eyes went even wider as she flicked throw page after page of paens to fried appetizers, "that's...no, no, that's the entire appetizer menu. I can't have eaten that much..."
 
Her belly, once content, began to growl. It was a strange sensation, an equal mix of being incredibly hungry and painfully stuffed. Lois began feeling fuller by the moment, the reminder of her ever growing mom-bod's sprawl kicking away the self confidence her emergent super powers depended on. The fatter she felt, the weaker she grew, meaning that the muscles holding in her immense feast were less and less those of an invincible superbeing and more and more that of a lazy, out of shape obese woman.
 
"ugh, damn it, no. Not a good time to feel fat," Lois panted, sweat breaking out across her forehead as she suddenly became painfully full, feeling ready to pop even before her size twenty skirt started biting into her advancing belly, "thin thoughts Lois, thin thoughts. You're tough and strong and *urp* sexy as all hell, damn it..."
 
Sexy thoughts, namely what her husband did with her new knockers helped, but Lois was still getting weaker. No longer compressed by superhuman abs, the reporter's full stomach was expanding like a cup of muffin dough poured into a cup big enough for half that. At the mall, her new black skirt had fit with room to spare but now it began to unzip itself while the button's strings began to stretch. The table rose higher, while Lois now normal constitution began feeling the effects of enough grease and calories to fuel an entire cross country meet. Her face went green as bad cheese, while thick, oily sweat began streaming from every pore, the reporter suddenly feeling hot, dizzy and exhausted.
 
Terms like "Biting off more than you can chew" or "eyes bigger than your stomach" didn't shoot through Lois' head, the only thing she could think involved a need to either vomit, sleep or possibly die. An attempt to move and find some relief went nowhere, feeling fat and sloppy left Lois with the proportional strength of a morbidly obese house wife who'd eaten enough food to founder a horse. Pushing the table aside was beyond her flabby arms and standing up with this amount of food in her gut was something her trembling legs wouldn't even attempt to do. A life time of being caught in sticky situations hadn't prepared Lois for getting stuck from her own gluttony and given how her purse was at her feet, she couldn't even call her husband for help.
 
And if Superman saw her in such a state, then Lois' chances of winding up with another Kryptonian in her were going to near 100%.
 
Fortunately rescue was at hand from an unusual source.
 
"Lois! It's been too long darling!" an aristocratic voice purred across the filling restaurant.
 
Lois' chubby face turned, for a moment feeling a brief bout of fear at being caught so big in front of Selina. Catwoman was the fittest normal woman Lois had ever seen, someone who lived to do pilates and free climbing, who was nothing wiry muscles and taut sinew. Lois had known the burglar for several years, before the fellow brunette had fully turned "good" and even before the middle aged spread had started hitting the reporter she'd felt a little chubby around Selina. Hell, Selina in her own early 30s was in significantly better shape than Lois had been at twenty, what was it going to be like comparing herself when the reporter was a 250lb land whale with boobs bigger than both their heads and an ass almost to match!?
 
"...Selina?" Lois asked, eyes going so wide her purple pupils disappeared, "you look uh..."
 
Lois would never find out what comparing herself to a skinny Selina would be like, in the same way she'd never know what eating a steak from a mastadon tasted like. Because just as the end of the ice age had banished the megafauna to extinction, so had marriage doomed the lithe body of the leanest woman in Gotham.
 
"Oh glowing I know, I've started showing just this week and can get nothing but compliments. If I'd known how good it would make my skin look I'd have stopped using birth control years ago!" the fat aristocrat who had been Catwoman purred in jovial agreement, pointing at her three chinned face with plump fingers bearing rings worth more than Lois' mortgage.
 
Lois just starred in amazement, her own predicament forgotten and her new powers returning as the new matron of the house of Wayne began shoving her couch filling hips into the booth.
 
If she'd been asked to name three features defining Selina, Lois would have listed the effortless, soundless grace of the thief's strut, the proud sway of her lean hips and the captivating glare of her near glowing green eyes. Selina could cross a crowded room without being heard by anyone even in 5 inch heels, with every straight male or bicurious female in the room's attention locked on her captivating legs and sensual hips, even as her fingers slid into pockets and purses by habit. Anyone who met her face to face past her tasteful c cups would be arrested by her unreal eyes, the huge jade orbs demanding full attention.
 
"You're pregnant...," Lois managed, trying to find any of those three features and failing.
 
Gone were the long, smooth strides of Selina's strut. Her waddling steps were short and uneven, each motion pushing her billowing thighs past each other. The ex-thief's stockings were already breaking down under the strain, chaffed, pink fat pouring through the ever accumulating rips. Her progress was loud too, even though her fat feet were shoved into flats her heels thumped heavily onto the restaurant's tile and Selina was briefly wheezing.
 
The sway of Catwoman's hips were there, but magnified to the point of parody. Love seat filling ass cheeks wobbled back and forth like a metronome with each labored step.Lois hadn't tested if she had X-ray vision yet, but needed no super powers to see the thief's cellulite coated buttocks from the front. At the thief's bridal shower, Lois had glimpsed Selina's naked butt while getting into a hot tub and felt nothing but envy over the taut smoothness possessed by a younger, fitter woman. But now the catburglar appeared to have several recipes of bread dough hanging out of her not so little black dress. Selina was oblivious to it, although it still drew attention, by force if nothing else. The aristocrat's waddling progress was marked by knocked over chairs, ass slapped dinners and a slimmer waiter who'd been winded by an errant collision. However, those clumsy sausage fingers, swelling around several mortgages of rings, looked barely able to hit the buttons on a vending machine instead of picking a safe.
 
"Oh yes, its wonderful I feel like a hundred and eighty billion dollars you know. No period and not even a hint of morning sickness. I"m looking forwards to really popping and having people notice me," the green eyed woman smiled, gracelessly shoving herself into the booth, "why didn't you tell me being pregnant was so great?"
 
"You're just, very lucky I guess," the amazed reporter managed, glancing from Selina's plump mom breasts and the other brunette's face, "any negative side effects?"
 
"Oh no, not really," Selina smiled, dimples showing in round, reddened cheeks that were starting to droop into jowls, "well, slightly. My ankles are swelling up a little bit but you'd have to look closely to notice."
 
Lois grinned nervously. Every summer Clark dragged her to the county fair and she saw prize winning hogs with more delicate ankles than the heavily be-cankled Selina. And given how the thick shaft of fat bounced with every step, Lois doubted any of it was swollen.
 
"We'll start off with garlic bread, scampi and calamari. Oh and two bottles of bubbly for my best friend to celebrate my success," Selina said to the same waitress who'd been constantly refilling the ravenous reporter's food all evening.
 
"Of course, Mrs. Wayne," the chubby waitress grinned, thrilled to have two grade A, ultra rich fatties to stuff that night.
 
Lois would have pointed out that she was already stuffed to the max and probably shouldn't drink two entire bottles of champagne, but was distracted by Selina pulling out a candy bar from her purse and munching on it. The candy disappeared in a single flash of Selina's red lips, making Lois forget her own obesity for the moment.
 
The reporter knew she needed to say something. While Lois had no room to speak given her increasing girth, Selina was frighteningly fat. She looked to have gained a hundred pounds in a few months, while Lois had already been going to seed. And if she really was pregnant that much fat could be awful for her health, when Lois had been pregnant she'd gotten so chunky, so fast (thanks mostly to Clark doting on her) that her doctor had put her on a diet at four months when she'd hit 170lbs from a base of 130.
 
"But for now enough about me, what about you Lois?" Selina grinned, her bright green eyes running up and down what she could see of Lois, "its been months since I've seen you and I'm really surprised at how different you look. Really Lois, have you..."
 
"Have I?" Lois managed, for once feeling on the spot in an interview as Selina examined her, certain that the extra ninety or so pounds she'd packed on was going to be brought up.
 
"Had work done?" Selina finished with a conspiratorial grin, "Girl your face is so smooth and your lips are so plump I wouldn't buy you being thirty. And those boobs, damn Lois but those things are perfect, so huge and so high up! What are they saline? Lipo-redistribution? Give me the name of your surgeon, I'm already swelling up and once I'm done nursing I'll probably be sagging down to the floor."
 
Lois blinked, recalling that it had been so long since she'd had botox injected she should be a mess of fine lines and crowsfeet. It was probably one of the superpowers she'd somehow gotten. The humongous boobs were a mystery though, maybe she'd gotten ideal Kryptonian fat distribution or always had an unknown bustiness just waiting to pop out.
 
"No, no. This is all me," the reporter said, waving at her self and accidentally hitting one of her massive tits, sending a jiggle of fat up to her second chin, "I just...well, its embarrassing but I got well, kinda fat this summer."
 
"I know what you mean!" Selina said, "I've put on about ten pounds since the wedding and really I've looked so good I have no idea why I ever went on a diet."
 
"Ten pounds? Just ten?" Lois asked, unable to control a brow raise.
 
She'd helped Selina get dressed at the wedding. The Burglar's black silk gown had been a size two and Selina had had no fat on her, her body ready to compete in Olympic gymnastics or walk at a fashion show. The Wayne matriarch had to have gained over a hundred pounds since then.
 
"Ha, you caught me, Miss Star reporter. Its fifteen," the obese Selina giggled, "Oh the food's here!"
 
Lois thought while she ate and drank, her eyes watching Selina's flabby arms shake and flap as she fed herself fried sea food like she'd just been rescued from weeks in a life boat. This woman had been in the top 1% of feminine fitness in the spring, but now in fall she was ludicrously obese. Worse, Selina seemed in strange denial. Maybe she, like Lois, was just being embarrassed at having a BMI over 30 but if she was so embarrassed then why was she cramming herself into such a risque ensemble? While the bicurious part of Lois wanted to do nothing but see her friend's emerging triple chin wobble, her snoop instincts demanded get to the bottom of the mystery.
 
"So Selina, this place is delicious," Lois began after the round of appetizers were emptied and the five orders of entrees were ordered, "but next time I'm going to have to insist on somewhere vegetarian. I'm getting to be a big girl anymore..."
 
Reminding herself that she was obese made the huge boobed brunette's powers start to dip again, her weakening belly muscles tipping the table onto Selina's massive thighs.
 
"Well, Lois I'd never bring it up but I doubt you'd fit into your bridesmaid dress from last year without some shape wear," Selina said, as if Lois wasn't 90lbs fatter than she had been, "but really, it looks good on you! I know I've always felt better when I'm gaining and never felt worse than when I was dieting. Why the last time I did a high rise job, I was on a diet for months to get into that awful suit. Can you believe that I was a 170lbs and could still barely get the zipper up?"
 
Lois blinked again, her poker face broken by amazement, "You at 170lbs is rather hard to imagine."
 
"Oh yes, I ate nothing but ice cream for a whole week after it to celebrate," Catwoman went on, shotgunning a glass of bubbling, non-alcoholic juice, "but now the only suit I"ll need to ever wear is a skirt suit at Wayne Enterprises. After a few sex sessions I convinced darling Brucey to give me ** power at the company!"
 
Lois was one of the handful of people who knew what was under Batman's mask. That threw in another wrinkle, she'd dated Bruce briefly before she and Clark had gone steady and even then had been a size or two up from the Billionaire's normal dates. The Dark Knight dated slinky assassins and lithe catburglars, while his alter ego dated top models and media darling actresses. Was he really enjoying fucking a woman with an ass that had its own zip code?
 
"And what have you been doing at the company?" Lois asked.
 
"Oh...this...and that, making sure they have better data security. I haven't been there that often," Selina said slightly bashfully, "the hard parts really, well, parenting. I knew Bruce had a lot of kids but dealing with just one of them is...God its harder than I thought. That's another reason I'm really glad we could meet, you see, well, how do you manage adopting a college age daughter?"
 
That really was unexpected, "Well, its not easy. They can be moody and angsty but its important to give them space and unconditional support when they're ready to share. But also set ground rules and responsibilities, put your foot down when you need to."
 
Selina chewed on that while the desert menu was brought up and ordered in its entirety.
 
"Hmmm, my problem is just, uh, babying her too much," Selina admitted, the last thing Lois had ever thought the usually individualist Catwoman would say, "I get all...melty. But maybe I should put my foot down..."
 
Lois was distracted by the sheer amount of food Selina had ordered for them. She was on her third bottle of bubbly and while not buzzed thanks to her new constitution, she was just tipsy enough that she hadn't realized she'd eaten the majority of the food. Part of it was her own gluttony but she realized Selina had directed that several dishes be put in front of the reporter. The table was rising off the ground thanks to the press of over stuffed, matronly guts beneath it.
 
"Yeah, that helps if you can deal with the backlash. But, really there's no need to order that much food," Lois brought up, putting a hand to her stomach and finding she was short a skirt button, "Clark likes my curves but if I let him he'll feed me till I'm the size of a blue ribbon pig."
 
"Oh nonsense, you're positively wasting away Lois. Curves like yours need a lot of maintenance to stay so plush and you barely touched your food," Selina mused, plump fingers rubbing her chin, "just like my daughter..."
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5 hours ago, Cyril Figgis said:

Sweet onion chutney, that was delightful.  I love how utterly oblivious Selina is throughout this whole chapter, and Lois's waxing/waning powers was a nice touch.  Glad she's cognizant enough to recognize there's a problem--maybe she's just the snoop to find out what's going on...

Why thank you. I was very happy with coming up with the idea she knows she went up a size...but forgot about the sixteen sizes she went up before that.

 

2 hours ago, 46400839 said:

Completely and utterly fantastic. Your attention to small details like jiggling cankles is impeccable. 

Thanks. I was really trying to imagine how someone used to strutting and now totally unaware they've almost doubled in size would walk.

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You know, when I read the title “Meeting of the Milfs,” I had an image in my head of the two moms bumping into each other with their bulging girth, and I’m so happy that I wasn’t far off! Lois’s belly expanding when she loses faith in her powers was an unexpected surprise! 

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6 hours ago, >_< 0_0 said:

You know, when I read the title “Meeting of the Milfs,” I had an image in my head of the two moms bumping into each other with their bulging girth, and I’m so happy that I wasn’t far off! Lois’s belly expanding when she loses faith in her powers was an unexpected surprise! 

Oh yes, that's going to happen...

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And now back to Harley and Ivy. Harley gets new glasses, ivy has a new scheme and the weight gain is going to really get going...20 chapters and tens of thousands of words in...

 

Chapter 21: New Looks, New Leaf
 
Dr. Harleen Quinzel, well former Dr, currently Harley Quinn, was having a great many problems.
 
"You can do this Harl, you can do this, you can do this you can do this," she whispered to herself repeatedly, over her increasingly rapid breath.
 
One beefy, pillowy arm raised up a brown paper bag as encouragement, the former supervillain breathing in and out through it to stop herself from hyperventilating. Swollen red cheeks burning bright with the exertion of rapid breathing, the crimson stain spilling down to her fourth chin, she took one ponderous waddle forwards into the blur of her surroundings. Everything around the clown was a green fuzz, Ivy's vines having totally overtaken the apartment and her own vision collapsing into being legally blind.
 
"When I find that damn narrator, I'm gonna strangle him!" Harley gasped, clenching puffy fists wrapped tight in carpel tunnel braces, "Yeah you heard me you fucking pervert punk! And no I won't sit on ya, you'd like it too much!"
 
The doorbell rang again, more insistently. In her new Jacuzzi in the kitchen, Ivy's rotund form stirred. Not enough to actually awake, but enough to disturb the lilly pads growing around her pillow sized boobs. Harley couldn't see her giga-titted girlfriend but did hear the almost pained sentence she managed:
 
"Harl...get...the door," the obese botanist moaned, vines already lowering towards her mouth with pastries, "so...sore...worked out ...too hard..."
 
The workout the redhead was refering too was a sex session between the two partners, an incredibly clumsy one due to their ever increasing bulk and decreasing stamina. Its length had had more to do with the incredibly out of shape pair of criminal's need for frequent breaks than with any sort of skill, Ivy's water melon sized milkers were so sensitive that Harley's panting almost sent them off and the stimulating rub of her thighs left the pale blonde at a near state of coming at all times.
 
Said sex had also been three days ago, Ivy having fallen asleep afterwards and stayed that way. Too blind to see the TV and lonely, Harley had had nothing to occupy her time but eating. And while being force fed cake and candy by semi-sentient vines until you were covered with sweat, groaning with pain and on the verge of coming was fun, it got old after twelve or fourteen times in a row. Thankfully today was the day that Harley's eyeglasses were finally supposed to come!
 
If only she could get to the door and sign for them in time...
 
"Ah, sure rest up my poor little lilac gym bunny. Wouldn't want you to pull an ab moving," Harley huffed, her waterbed ass knocking into something heavy and sending it crashing to the ground.
 
The near blind criminal had to hope it wasn't her TV and kept stumbling forwards, hand on the wall to guide her. The pair's one bedroom apartment wasn't very big, its hallway was narrow and Quinn's cheeks turned as red as her old costume when she realized both sides of her butt were squishing up against the walls. She hadn't ventured out since the two's outing to the Iceberg a few weeks ago, where an enraged Penguin storming into the building with his goons to investigate a robbery would have surely recognized the pair save for the 500lbs of identity concealing lard cumulatively slathered over their bodies, and the psych's anxieties were coming into full play during her difficult journey through her own home.
 
"It's not a murderer, or a robber or that one Two-Face gang member who's knees you broke or a vengeful cop or that rich lady who's sons face you broke. Its just a delivery man," the anxious psych whispered to herself, pulling up an old psych trick to break the grip the anxiety had on her mind by recisting a list, "Bacon, ham, pastrami, pork chops, pork roast, bratwursts, kiebalsa, pork rinds...its just the delivery guy..."
 
Harley had to hope it was the delivery guy. Her ability to defend herself was nill: as parolees the pair didn't own a gun and Harley's swollen fingers and useless eyes wouldn't have let her use one anyway. Her old trusty malet was too heavy for her pathetically weak arms to pick up, let alone swing. And as for jumping out of the way like the old days? Forget it, if she put everything into it her swollen feet might get an inch off the floor but on the way down her basketball knees would give out and send her waterbed butt collapsing through the floor boards.
 
"Great fucking metaphors smart ass," she spat towards the invisible narrator and opened the door.
 
The apartment door hit Harley right in her sensitive gut. While dominated by her hips, the ex-psych's belly was still the gut of a 358lb tub of lard and was trembling due to being filled up with a couple donut shop's worth of sweets. The blonde cursed a blue streak of swear words as she walked outside and gut first into the delivery man, bowling her over.
 
"Son of a bitch you piece of shit goddamn motherfucking ass sucking cock gobbling semen craving menstral blood drinking shit eating titty fucking door!" Quinn gasped, sweat pouring of her head at the long speech.
 
The poor, over worked parcel woman, who remembered long lost days when a cute, chubby blonde and a plump redhead had lived here was shaken to see the land whale that had walked out. Yeah, these days her own brown shorts were so tight the zipper was defunct and the button held on with an XL rubber band, but the ivory pale tub of lard literaly filling the door frame was something else.
 
Harley was shoved into and pouring out of her only fitting set of clothes. Black yoga pants were wrapped around thighs bigger than her old waist, a dozen rips (each half a foot long) letting folds of vanilla colored lard flop out, while the clown's endless chaffing had worn away the inner thigh patches near completely. Cankles soft as melting butter had shoved the supposedly ankle length pants up over her knee, the toneless collections of adipose not even pretending to taper as they rose up and indeed, starting to droop towards the ground on the sides.
 
Only Harley's height, once 5'7 but down to 5'5 thanks to pressure on her joints, was the only think preventing her from being wider than she was tall. But that day was surely coming soon, well over fifty inches of hip fat and ass dough was wrapped around the tops of Harley's thighs. It filled the doorway to capacity, the stretch marked and spider vein riddled intertube a malevolent testament to the changing power of massive over consumption of carbs. The fat pushed down Harley's pants low enough to show public hair in the front and most of her asscrack in the back, the side seams of her pants starting to rip under its pressure.
 
Her upper body was *just* fat: a big, sloppy beer gut, droopy borderline Ds, ultra flabby arms and a four chinned, ultra round face starting to get some acne outbreaks.
 
"God damn," the delivery woman gasped, awestruck by the sheer girth in front of her.
 
"Hey, watch the potty mouth!" Harley demanded, looking the wrong way, "and uh..."
 
Ideas that this blur might be a vengeful past victim or assassin made the milky woman pale further and lose her diatribe.
 
"Just delivering a package," the flabby parcel woman, who's 5 miles a day route got longer as her thighs got fatter each week, managed, "sign here."
 
She held the small package and the form at maximum distance, somehow fearing infection from the tub of lard in front of her. It was a correct fear, but far too late for her and every other woman in Gotham. From the fashion show to the criminal underworld to the working class grunts, Ivy's plague had hit every one. The only difference for this chunky delivery woman was an unknown super power (an ability to harmlessly drink sea water she'd never discover) that was just meta enough to make her unsatisfied with her bulging figure.
 
"Ah, at last," Harley grinned, writing out a perfect "Harleen Quinzell" with a heart for an I dot on the wrong spot of the paper and seizing hold of the package.
 
Kitten weak Harley might be, but greed was a powerful motivator. Card board shredded and in a moment her face wore new spectacles. Cokebottle thick and black framed, the glasses made Harley's blue eyes look tiny, fully completing her transformation from dangerous, sexy supervillainess to total nerd.
 
"Yeah like you wouldn't fuck me," Harley growled at the narrator, then turned politely to the delivery woman, "Thanks for the specs babe! But ya better watch the snacks, your thighs are getting a little fat! Same thing happened to me ya know."
 
Harley attempted to turn around in the narrow hallway, unfortunately there was too little room and too much her. Grunting, she was forced to waddle back at a strange angle before the stupefied delivery woman. She winced as the cold door handle brushed pass her buns, a fold of skin tight leggings catching on it as Quinn waddled away. Abused fabric stretched until it couldn't, damaged seams ripping away and leaving a depant's Quinn almost stuck in her own hall. The door closed, badly stretched cloth that could have been pants fluttering towards the chubby delivery woman like the Ghost of Christmas future.
 
"Hey, unfff, Red I can see!" Harley gasped, walking backwards down the hallway, her butt knocking pictures off the wall and then toppling a coat wrack as she at last turned around, sweat stains coating the walls in her wake, "uh...Red..."
 
All 404 wopping pounds of Poison Ivy was suspended from the ceiling. Hundreds of veins were wrapped around her relatively thin arms or holding up her bean bag chair gut or her watermelon mammaries or her surprisingly large ass flab. So much lard on her upper body had compressed the already short botanist down to 4'11, making her gravid gut just as big around as she was tall if one could invent mathematics advanced enough to measure its many folds and flaps.
 
Harley had felt every ounce of that flab first hand but was still shocked to see her girl friend get that big. Yeah, it was sexy as hell to see her as such a butter ball, but damn.
 
Also, her eyes were open and glowing green.
 
"Red, you're uh...kinda giving me some bad vibes. Should I call an old priest or a young priest? How about Zatanna, she hasn't been in the story for a while. Maybe that Goth chick in the Titans?" a nervous Harley stammered.
 
"Harley...Harley don't you see, I'm fine!" the rotund Ivy said, "Everything is going to be fine!"
 
"Oh...uh, in that case I was gonna play that new Samurai game and then maybe we could eat pizza, get kinda buzzed and have some snuggles?" Harley asked.
 
"No, no we can't delay a moment! The Green Ivy, the Green! I've communed with the Green!" the absolutely mammoth eco terrorist said, "The Parliament of Trees, they've told me how to save the world!"
 
"Um, I'm looking at the green right now and maybe we should do snuggles first? I don't exactly got a parliament of trees but I've got some vibrators if you want em..." Harley asked, idly rubbing herself as she looked at the plump bulge of Ivy's sex, just visible under her avalanche of a belly.
 
"Focus Harley, focus, we're going to convince the humans to stop polluting!" the possessed, euphoric ball of ecofriendly butter said.
 
"Oh...good...how?" Harley said, really hoping this wasn't going to get the Justice League called to stomp her fat, wobbly ass.
 
Wonder Woman and Hawk Girl and Power Girl weren't exactly fighting fit from what the Clown remembered of their chapters but they could probably turn around in their hall ways and lift more than fifteen pounds without throwing their backs out.
 
"We're going to fatten up every human woman on the planet!" Ivy smiled, "Until they're so big they can't move!"
 
"Uhh...okay, but ...didn't we already start that Red? I ain't exactly "med school" smart after that chem bath messed with my brain but wasn't that what the plague was for?" Harley asked.
 
"No, that was just the start. Done out of jealousy and pride, this will be done out of love!" the rapturous Ivy insisted, "Now grab a pen, I've got a long list of steps you must write down, first we must find a rich idiot..."
 
Harley sighed, glad that if she was going to have to do this she could at least depend on the narrator to do the grunt work of remembering Ivy's diatribe.
 
"Oh come on, you're just too lazy to write it down ya schlub, " Quinn sighed, her dream of a life of snuggles, video games and over eating fading before her enhanced view.
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5 hours ago, >_< 0_0 said:

Shhhh 🤫 no one tell Ivy about bovine methane emissions 

Super addictive, super fattening (for women) plant meat

 

17 hours ago, Cyril Figgis said:

Uh-oh...it's never good when Ivy starts talking about saving the planet.  Love the descriptions of Harley and Ivy's gains as always, and I'm curious to see what their new plan is...

It's not very original

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Chapter 22: Back to Work
 
One month.
 
That was the amount of time that Karen Starr, CEO of new and ever growing Starrware, had given herself to lose the rather large amount of flab she'd picked up in her costumed adventures as Power Girl. Given that one evening in Greece had amounted to near fifty pounds pouring the bombshell blonde's now bulging belly and pendulous bust, a single month was a tall order. But she was a Kryptonian, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound and burn more calories than an entire spin class just by laying out in a bikini.
 
Losing weight shouldn't have given the atomic blonde an ounce of trouble...under normal circumstances.
 
"Come on Karen, just one more box!" Diana cooed, a brick-sized breakfast pastry clutched in her hand, "they're you're favorite, maple syrup icing with caramelized bacon bits!"
 
"I...I can't Di," the blonde gasped, eyes fluttering.
 
"But they gave us a whole baker's dozen for dealing with that robber! You don't want them to go to waste, do you?" Wonder Woman asked, beautifully kind blue eyes imploring the gravid blonde.
 
"Its my waist I'm worrying about," Power Girl groaned, half convinced she felt the multi-pound mass of digesting donut kick against the side of her stomach, "Di, we're falling out of our clothes here, I was supposed to lose weight this month and instead I've been eating like a cow going to the slaughter house!"
 
The pair of well upholstered heroines were a far cry from their old, beyond perfect selves. Blubbery bodies were pouring out of their far too undersized exercise gear, no hint that the two had been jogging every day apparent thanks to the shrinking time devoted to workouts and the ever growing amount of time spent eating. The two had never got around to adding wrestling or lifting to their morning runs and the jogs themselves were now getting cut short in favor of gorging at eateries Diana had earned a free meal at. Bakeries, greasy spoons, coffee places, pizzerias, taco joints, buffets, ice cream stores and candy shops, all of them faded into a blur of grease, cholesterol and sugar in the blonde's calorie loaded memory. She'd try and calculate the odds of Wonder Woman saving so many unhealthy diners but Peej was trying to not think of any numbers right now, less she start thinking of her BMI or weight.
 
"And you've been working out every day! We should be proud of ourselves, that weight is falling off us!" Diana told her, pushing the doughnut towards Karen's open mouth, "We're regaining our warrior physiques, just look at how strong your arms are looking!"
 
Falling was a good way to describe their weight, although "out of" was more accurate than "off". At the start of this workout hobby, Diana had looked like a borderline plus size model thanks to the fat magically plopped onto her body. A month of bad habits later and the Amazon Princess' curves were far past borderline, her Themysciran body buried in American blubber. Karen didn't even bother looking at her own thick, pillowy upper arms, keeping her focus on her friend/tormentor.
 
"I'll give you they're thicker than I thought they could get," Karen admitted, focusing on the increasing Amazon in front of her.
 
Centuries of sword play were lost, as Diana's corded swordswoman arms grew ever more plump and jiggly to the point that soft arm wrist fat mushroomed around her bracers. Tens of thousands of miles ran were forgotten, as her mighty runners calves spread beefy and thick above her trainers. The millions of lunges that had built up her steel hard thighs were all for not, as Di's upper legs were soft pillows of flubber stretching her leggings to the breaking point.
 
Countless squats were now superfluous as over consumption of American junk food made Amazonian buns inflate until the brunette rose so high in her seat she could barely fit in a car. As she leaned over the table to tempt her blonde exercise buddy with another fattening snack, Karen could see the wobbling half domes of fat half hanging out of her skin tight leggings. Every time Karen followed her expanding friend into a restaurant, it seemed that Diana's hypnotizing buns were a little closer to touching the edges of the door. A couple more months of eating like this and the unthinkable would happen, the Amazon was going to get stuck!
 
"Really, Di? Falling?" Karen huffed not even risking a glance down at the gigantic sprawl of her own stomach, "if I keep eating like this I'm going to get stuck in my apartment, super powers or not..."
 
"Well, you've got to eat well to fuel your work outs," Diana smiled, blinding white teeth gleaming beneath her shining eyes, "Otherwise you know, we might wind up injuring ourselves. And I know it has to be working, I've never felt better..."
 
Power Girl's said powers were vaguely working. Shame over her sprawling obesity and painful fullness had handicapped her strength and speed to the point she wouldn't trust herself to get a kitten out of a tree but her senses were sharp enough to feel new stretch marks forming under her belly button and across her breasts as her fat cells swelled under the greasy sweet surge of calories. She could easily see the desperate panic in Diana's shining blue eyes, the nervous madness in her gleaming smile, the sharp rise and fall of borderline F cup breasts about to pop from her bra with rapid breathing.
 
It seemed ridiculous to Peej, but she didn't need a magic lasso to tell that Diana was lying. The Amazon had clearly lost all control, turning into a buttery pear that looked more like a concubine than a warrior princess. By the blessings of Aphrodite, Diana remained glorious even as her weight climbed through the mid-200s but she'd lost a lot of muscle tone and wind. Her gigantic thighs lacked cellulite and her new carb belly didn't even have a stretch mark marring its bronze tan shape, hell Karen was pretty sure the brunette Amazon's puffy boobs wouldn't even sag if freed from their spandex confines, but Karen was sure her friend was powering down. There was no way this thigh clapping behemoth had never felt better, not with the way she'd started panting on their notably slower jogs.
 
And Diana clearly couldn't come to terms with losing such a major part of her identity...
 
"Di, I...," Karen started to say, words on the tip of her tongue, considering what to say, '...I...how about I take them to go? I've got to go back to work in an hour after a month off and I'm sure the breakroom will eat them up."
 
It was a soft dodge and Karen knew it. But puncturing her friends self delusion wasn't in her nature. Especially as all of that weight somehow looked perfect on Diana, Wonder Woman's divine beauty shining all the brighter for nearly a hundred extra pounds. The fact that her friend was leaning towards her with puckered lips didn't escape Karen's mind and only her nerves/inability to bend forwards kept her from leaning in towards a cautious kiss.
 
"Oh...well, that sounds good," Diana smiled, her new dimples popping cutely into view, "same time tomorrow for the workout?"
 
Power Girl knew that if she kept working out like this that she'd soon be needing a wheel chair to move around, super powers or not. On the other hand, missing out on a moment of Diana's wobbling mega-buns eating up her yoga pants as they waddle-ran in front of her.
 
"Wouldn't miss it for the world...," the stuffed Kryptonian said, taking the doughnut box from Di and trying not to drool over its intoxicating smells.
 
....
 
"Rao and Jesus and any other God that's listening, please tell me why I let Diana give me those donuts?" Karen moaned from her car two hours later, "I knew I was going to eat every damn one of them by the time I got to work."
 
The luxury car wasn't built for the obese: PG had had to recline the seat all the way back to accommodate her belly and her love handles threatened to make her too wide for the door to close. The Last Daughter of the Multiverse had sweat dripping from every pore, eyes half crossed and her mouth hanging open with her pink tongue lolling out. Between her soft pants, Karen cast her eyes around the electric sports car, realizing it looked like the aftermath of a crime scene.
 
The murder weapon was hanging open in the passenger seat, an empty box of gourmet doughnuts bereft of even crumbs. The victim was her waistline, once a bulging eight pack you could grate cheese on and now a swollen, milk pale yoga ball of fat. Said yoga ball was splitting in two under sheer weight and pinned by her skin tight skirt, grumbling at a desperate need to be released.
 
"No, I'm not letting you out tummy," the blonde bombshell groaned, timidly running puffy fingers over the painfully tight and brand new plus size skirt, "it took too much time to cram you into this skirt and that was with two thirds the amount of doughnut in you. I've got to go into work and I don't have enough self image to spare to go in with you wobbling out!"
 
The panting blonde looked over her bloated body, then blanched at her face in the mirror. Despite her make up it was clear that age had caught up with her, some fine lines and the start of crows feet making her resemble a woman in her mid thirties. No more was Karen Starr and impossibly fit, strong and sexy looking woman. Some magical weight gain and a month of near psychotic feasting had made her already over weight body turn completely obese.
 
"If this gut gets any bigger I'm going to need a wagon to carry it around," Karen sighed, tugging carefully at her waist band, 'I can barely remember what its like to have abs anymore instead of stretch marks and fat folds. My whole body feels like a balloon..."
 
The primary problem area of her belly was big enough and droopy enough its stretch marked bulk was hanging over her sex when her clothes weren't pinching it in. An expensive bra was pushing up her swollen breasts into some impressive looking cleavage that hid how each boob could now hold a whole pack of pencils beneath their pale sprawl and disguised how her right breast had stopped growing while the left had kept spreading. But as she pressed to within striking distance of three hundred pounds, the once impossibly fit woman's other areas were soaking up calories too.
 
Karen's knee length black skirt was hiding cellulite coated thunder thighs that were turning her strut into a waddle. She'd switched to granny panties because her deflated, droopy butt was making her thongs floss too much to be comfortable. The Super powered CEO was wearing flats because heels were too much trouble to get her plumped up feet into. Her tent like red suit jacket had been made with relaxed arms to hide the bingo wings sprouting from her arms.
 
Finishing her triple cream and sugar latte with a slurp, the stuffed, obese Power Girl began the laborious process of pulling her body from the sports car without destroying it with an errant burst of super strength. Karen had to very carefully shuffle her chubby legs out the door and then, sure no one was watching the parking garage this late in the day, hover a few inches above her seat and out the door, trying to keep her meaty hips from hitting the horn. PG didn't even dare to breathe, her self confidence and thus powers hung by a thread, the slightest knock at her self confidence enough to crumple them for hours.
 
When the once fit heroine set her shoes on the pavement, operating by touch given she couldn't see past either mountainous cleavage or apron gut, she experienced a rush of blood to her head. Bearing her own weight for the first time after a break was a very strange feeling, one that made Karen's increasingly weak grip on her powers slip. Various parts of her body reported the strain of obese mortality: the pull of massive breasts on her shoulders, the pinch of a too small skirt and jacket against her sprawling gut, the groan of knees and ankles beneath all of her hefty plumpness. After a moan of tiredness, she picked up her purse (suddenly heavy due to the snacks stuffed in it and her minimal muscle tone) and got on her way, only an hour late for work.
 
"I never knew how regular thin people dealt without powers," the CEO buzzed some oxygen to wheeze, "but obese women...ugh, can't I just be skinny again..."
 
Karen waddled the short distance from her car to the elevator, wishing she'd remembered to slather lotion onto her thighs before squeezing herself into the plus sized clothes. It was a cool day but between her near 300 lbs of insulation and the heat built up by moving that load, the blonde was starting to get sweaty. She didn't dare undo her suit jacket for some coolness though, the heavy duty wool and strong bronze buttons were a back up in case her skirt button burst.
 
The effort of walking had distracted Karen from thinking until she got to the elevator. But once her flabby butt was resting on the interior hand rail, the CEO had time to think. Her employees had last seen Karen Starr slightly too chubby for skinny girl clothes, pressing 200lbs on an above 6' frame, but still energetic and attentive to every detail of the office. But she was barely recognizable after the passage of a month suffering from a staggering list of weight gain drivers: the Red Kryptonite she had been exposed to alongside Lois Lane that was slowly turning Karen into a middle aged human woman, the infection of Ivy's virus that was wrecking her appetite and metabolism even further, the fifty pounds of magical flab packed onto her by an angry Greek God, Diana's desperate denial that was keeping them in doughnut shops instead of gyms and Atlee's sabotaging feeding.
 
The only amazing thing about Power Girl's enormous weight gain was that it hadn't risen even more!
 
"Everyone's going to be pointing and laughing at me. They'll be jokes about parade floats getting loose, questions on if I got knocked up or rear ended a tanker truck of lard," the obese blonde wheezed, her breathing rising faster as anxiety set in, "Maybe I should have stayed home..."
 
Karen was seriously considering trying to hide on the side of the elevator when it got to her floor, but there was no way all of her stomach could fit in the gap by the door. It was with painful effort that she waddled out of the elevator into her company's executive office suite, sure that insults and laughs were going to penetrate her deep layers of flab like bullets never could. Taking as deep a breath as she could without snapping her bra, Karen opened her eyes and saw that everyone...
 
Wasn't even paying attention to her.
 
Starrware's employees were diligently working on reports and presentations and other miscellaneous office drudgery. The entrance of one fat woman wasn't going to disturb them, especially when so many of them were chubby. Karen blinked, seeing that her youthful work force had all gained well over thirty pounds in her month of absence. Seams were straining under puffy pressure, soft fat showing through puckering button holes on shirts and several pants zippers had been forced down. A lot of doughnut boxes were laid out on desks and tables, hands constantly going to snacks as the infected workers did exactly as Ivy's virus had programmed them to do.
 
Power Girl was the only one to notice thanks to her shaky grip on her powers, but even waddled along, stomach gurgling at the smell of nearby pastries, and saw how no one even noticed her. Or rather, no one noticed that she was huge! A few people welcomed her back, seeing through what should have been a hundred and thirty pounds of concealing blubber to her real identity. No one brought up her now stooped posture from the pull of her tits or how her gut clearly strained her suit jacket, Karen being obese didn't even draw notice!
 
Waddling along in a daze, she literally bumped right into Atlee walking out of the break room with three donuts in hand.
 
"Ah Karen, glad to see you at the office lazy bones!" her assistant said, dimples and doubled chins forming into a grin as she hugged her boss, "I was wondering if you'd slept in!"
 
For Power Girl, the sensation of Atlee's smaller gut full on bumping into hers was rather odd. She'd taken countless super powered body blows but the feeling of her soft lard yielding to someone else's body was a new one.
 
And one that made her think about how nice it might feel being pressed up to Diana.
 
"No, just some wardrobe issues. I had to pick up some new clothes after a dryer problem," Karen lied, knowing it was clear as day she'd gotten even fatter but not wanting to say she'd buzzed an hour trying to shove herself into ougrown work clothes before quitting and getting new ones, "so I see everyone here is... productive."
 
"Oh yeah, worker satisfaction is through the roof! Not that you were doing anything wrong, but its like everyone was operating half empty for a long time. I"m not sure what's causing it," Atlee mused before biting into a pastry and handling another to Karen, "so how was the long vacay?"
 
Power Girl could have denied it or pointed out that the already chubby Atlee was about to pop out of her own clothes. The geomancer had matched her boss pound for pound, her gut surging out until her own suit jacket failed to button around it. But she was too distracted by an odd sensation that something was off with her old friend.
 
What that was, Karen wasn't certain. A danish was in front of her and she hadn't gotten this fat by denying food. Despite the groaning pressure of her belly she downed the treat without thought, its sugary goodness distracting her from realizing that she'd had to ever so slightly tilt her head to look at Atlee in the eye. The Terran girl was only 5'6 but in heels she now topped her shrinking, flat wearing boss by half an inch.
 
"Ugh, relaxing and delicious but if I get any bigger they'll be able to float me in the Macy's parade on Thanksgiving. Tanning didn't work, I need to get myself looked at by a professional but what do I even say?," Karen whined through a full mouth as the pair of fat girls waddled into her office, missing how Atlee's eyes near glowed to see her boss so fat, "Hey doc, I had super powers but got too to use them?"
 
"Oh jeez, that sucks Karen," the flabby brunette said distractedly, watching the wobble of Karen's new cankles, "I can see that tanning didn't work out, how about those exercise sessions you got invited to?"
 
"Don't even bring them up. It turns out the Amazon is a first class junk food addict, I'm in worse shape than I was at the start we ate so much!" PG groaned flopping into her desk chair which gave an alarming groan, "I'm eating myself sick every day and my powers are falling apart, the only good news is I'll soon be vulnerable enough for Lipo. But enough negative crap, what do we have on the schedule today? I can at least work at this job."
 
"Not too much," Atlee said, glancing up from the deep cleavage valley straining Karen's top and pulling her phone out from a very tight pocket, "first up is a sales pitch by some start up out of Gotham. Something about world saving, eco friendly super food..."
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Oooh...and now we move into some familiar territory from the ol' interactive!  Something tells me that Karen's going to need a little convincing this time, rather than leaping at the sales pitch.

Loved this chapter!  The cracks in Diana's facade are showing, and I love the idea that she's slipping into denial, though not nearly as deep as Ivy.  And it's always delightful to check in on Karen, even as she spirals down a path of powerlessness and gluttony.

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15 hours ago, Cyril Figgis said:

Oooh...and now we move into some familiar territory from the ol' interactive!  Something tells me that Karen's going to need a little convincing this time, rather than leaping at the sales pitch.

Loved this chapter!  The cracks in Diana's facade are showing, and I love the idea that she's slipping into denial, though not nearly as deep as Ivy.  And it's always delightful to check in on Karen, even as she spirals down a path of powerlessness and gluttony.

PG's years of over eating and flaunting her strength really is catching up with her, isn't it?

8 hours ago, >_< 0_0 said:

I’m just curious how big everyone’s going to get before someone notices what’s happening 🤔

Not too much fatter...

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I'm really loving this story so far, this newest chapter was great by the way and I'll be waiting for more from both Power Girl and Wonder Woman (especially from the Amazon, it's interesting seeing her trying to be in denial as much as possible and I wonder when will she face the harsh reality of the situation).

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On 7/31/2020 at 6:04 PM, scl04 said:

I'm really loving this story so far, this newest chapter was great by the way and I'll be waiting for more from both Power Girl and Wonder Woman (especially from the Amazon, it's interesting seeing her trying to be in denial as much as possible and I wonder when will she face the harsh reality of the situation).

Thanks, things are going to be picking up now. My schedule for the story is going to be Lois Lane, Batgirl, Wonder Woman, in the coming days...

Chapter 23: The Big Pitch
 
Today's meeting felt like a very odd deja vu for Harley:
 
Squeezing herself and her lime green ginger lover into professional clothes to make a pitch for some of Ivy's customized super food made directly to a CEO. It was almost as if she'd gone back in time to that fateful day at Wayne Enterprises when Ivy had had such a terrible meeting with Selina Kyle while Harley had accidentally near blinded Bruce Wayne's daughter. The ex-psych wished she could do that day over, to find some way to earn the pair success with honest weight loss muffins instead of having to follow Ivy's increasingly bizarre and incredibly fattening schemes.
 
"Damn author," Harley murmured, "I'd kick his ass if we were in the same dimension and I could raise my leg high enough."
 
It wasn't that massive assed blonde wanted to be a dangerous criminal again or regretted a single bite of the meals that had swelled her gold medalist ass to a hallway jamming width. But...but, she was over 350lbs of untoned chub and the thirty something blonde was beginning to feel more than pleasantly plump. She extended one swollen hand and let her sausage fingers pinch a whole handful of thigh fat from one of the folds above her knee, whimpering both at its abundance and at the twinge in her poor, swollen wrist.
 
"Harley, you need to stop whimpering, you're whining in a most unprofessional way," Ivy said from the couch next to her, looking over her moon round face in a compact for any sign of green, "and us making a good impression is so very vital."
 
"Yeah, you say that Pam, but you didn't have to lace your big ol gut into two different corsets this morning," Harley pointed out, eyes widening in pain as she pointed a pinky at Ivy's strangely smoothed waist, "my wrists hurt so so bad, I don't know if I'll be able to drive us back..."
 
Ivy' inhaled, chipmunk cheeks temporarily paled by a special cookie of her own design going red as her scandalously short dress while her mammoth zepplins rose and rose and rose to the sigh and twang of bra seams. The behemoth of a botanist sat in a love seat, her girth filling it to the very brim despite the thick shapewear armor wrapping her belly. A matched pair of corsets had done their best to diminish Ivy's 59 inch waistline, keeping the stretch marked gut from hanging out of her skirt or filling her lap to her knees. But with so much Ivy, even two corsets could only go so far, her waistline was no longer nearing her height but now it was still almost four feet around!
 
"Harley, I understand that I've put on a little weight. But really, being incredibly thin is yet another example of the unfair and impossible standards women are held up to in the consumerist capitalist system," Ivy said calmly, "if we're to save the world, we'll have to build one where women aren't shamed for minor variations in their appearance."
 
Harley's black brow rose over her piggish blue eyes, this being the very first time Ivy had admitted a change in weight even as she'd risen from pixie petite to ogrishly obese, "You've put on a little weight, Red?"
 
The woman who'd barely been able to fit into the backseat of her hybrid risked a small smile in her dimpled face, "To tell the truth, I've gained a full fifteen pounds the past couple months from over sampling my own wares. The curves look stupendous on me though..."
 
Harley blinked at her girlfriend, a woman so fat her drooping collection of chins were threatening to merge with her melon sized boobs. She loved her buttery dumpling of a girlfriend, who looked so cute whenever she tried and failed to get up, but being the comparatively sane one in their relationship could be exhausting.
 
"Keep it up girl, the extra pounds must all be going to your boobs," Harley told her delusional love, looking forwards to the day Ivy was immobilized and unable to entrap her in anymore insane schemes.
 
"Ha, I wish. You know that this is a size eight and I can barely fit into it?" Ivy lied to Harley and herself, tapping the stretching hem of her tent sized skirt.
 
Harley was spared further lies from Ivy's beestung lips by the opening of the office door. She turned her swollen face to see the CEO of Starrware through her thick glasses, her stomach doing flip flops at seeing her target. When Ivy had assigned her to find a CEO with the suitable resources and weaknesses to execute her plan, Harley had been damn lucky to stumble onto a glowing magazine profile of Karen Starr.
 
The text had described a company showed signs of nothing but growth, needed for Ivy's plan. Better, Starr was an environmentalist which would make her sympathetic to Ivy's scheme of turning humanity's women into living carbon sinks. And best of all, the 6'1, muscle bound, G cupped 42 X 24 X 38 woman in the profile picture had to be a disguised Power Girl. Having been on a bizarre space adventure with the stacked Kryptonian, Harley wasn't going to be fooled by a red wig and a pair of glasses. Hell, the gigantic, half exposed knockers practically rising out of the woman's half buttoned blouse might as well have been a blinking neon sign saying "here's Power Girl, who else could have these bazookas!"
 
"Whew, apologies for keeping you waiting. I was having an important meeting with a big Greek official," Karen Starr said slightly breathlessly, waddling into view, "I had to run to get here before lunch..."
 
Harley swallowed at being in the same room as two fat gingers. While Ivy had a full hundred pounds on the taller Karen, the CEO was in the same general weight class as the ex-super villains. Heavy jowls hung off buried facial bones, puffy fingers gripped a latte, swollen cankles led into flat, sensible shoes, a basketball bag gut wobbled and jiggled inside plus sized skirt suit and immense, bra dependent tatas were hid away inside her top out of shame. The same magazine that had led Harley to Starr, an issue barely three months old, was on the office table and Harley wouldn't have been surprised if she was talking to the mother of the slim woman on the cover.
 
"It's no problem for us, we're so happy to be talking to a woman of your ...stature," Ivy said, shooting a faint glare at her wide hipped lover, "especially when we know that you'll love the product we're pitching to you. Dr. Quinzell, if you would..."
 
Harley tore her mind off of the super sized CEO in front of her for the box at her feet. Just as at Wayne Enterprizes, Harley had carried in some specially blended goodies but these ones were diametrically opposed to the slimming cupcakes Harley had carried in Gotham. Bending down amid a chorus of screaming seams, the obese psychologist picked up the box and then clumsily rose to her feet. Standing wasn't easy, the old Harley could do a triple somersault and then a back flip easier than the new one could get out of a chair. Getting to her swollen feet required pushing up with both hands on the armrests of the love seat she almost overfilled, the sudden rise making the super pear feel light headed at the end.
 
"One day narrator, you're gonna get what's coming to ya," Harley muttered inside the confines of her own head, before gently setting the box of cookies onto Starr's desk and beginning the even more laborious task of sitting her giant butt back down.
 
"So, you're pitching me...muffins?" the CEO asked, opening the box and squinting at the baked goods within, their fresh aroma making her lick her lips without thinking.
 
"Not just any muffins, but the future," Ivy promised, piggish eyes alight in her moon round face, "a future free of environmental destruction and want! Those muffins were made without putting a single ounce of carbon dioxide into the air, in fact they removed several pounds of it! They were grown directly from what was once a common kudzu vine, without needing to be fertilized or cooked!"
 
"Huh, well they don't look any different than normal," the redheaded CEO asked, observing the muffin closely, "but something like that could revolutionize how we use energy. As long as we get people to eat them, how do they taste?"
 
"And they, uh," Ivy kept on, expecting the tubby capitalist fat cat to just eat the damn thing, "are exceptionally delicious and packed with the cures for multiple health problems..."
 
"Well then, you wouldn't mind if I have some of my lab techs take a look at them?" Karen asked slyly, carefully not placing the muffin into her mouth but holding it in her hands, "just to make sure they're up to snuff while we talk about details?"
 
'I, um,' Ivy paled further, trying to think of a solution.
 
The spherical plant hybrid had expected the smell of her muffins to be so tantalizing that the CEO would chow down on them without a second thought. A careful examination of the muffins would reveal both their hyper addictive qualities, the 3000 calories per serving and the mind control pollen carefully added to that particular batch. Ivy had to do something and fast!
 
Unfortunately fast wasn't in the redhead's vocabulary anymore. It had taken her nearly an hour to get dressed with Harley's help that morning, with a couple breaks in between to catch her breath after the rigors of standing up. Getting into and out of the car that morning had set Ivy's heart pounding, the slightest action making her sweat and pant. Deep in denial over her weight gain Ivy might be, but even her deluded mind knew she wasn't up to fighting with a BMI well over social security age.
 
"Yes?" Starr asked her, pushing her glasses up with one plump hand.
 
"I uh...have complete control over plants!" Ivy whispered quickly, extending her swollen fingers and taken control of the decorative fern sitting on one corner of Starr's office.
 
A thick vine shot past stacks of decorative snowglobes to wrap around Karen's wrist. The CEO's eyes widened with surprise but before her weakened limb could do anything the vine whipped her hand right into her mouth. Shouts of protest died before they could be made, the overwhelming buttery flavor of the poppyseed muffin overwhelming any protest and then any thought.
 
"Oh thank God, you almost blew that wide open Harley!" Ivy sighed, whipping sweat from her brow, "we're damn lucky I was able to over power her!"
 
"Uh, you were red?" Harley asked, the huge assed psych trying to shove her swollen buns down into the much too small love seat, "pardon if I didn't notice, due to my keister being too big for even basic furniture."
 
The last word was punctuated with a glare and an extended middle finger towards the ceiling.
 
Ivy ignored her lover's insanity, instead rocking herself forwards and pulling against the arms of her chair. It took some time, due to her corsetry Ivy couldn't bend and due to her inactivity her flabby arms were very weak. But the botanist was standing on two wobbling feet by the time Karen Starr had finished the six pack of muffins.
 
"Now, let's...oh God I feel dizzy," Ivy wheezed, body trembling under its own weight until she collapsed back into the chair, its wood groaning at the thud, "Let's...ugh, let's...restart this interview. Ms. Starr, are you going to obey my every command?"
 
"Yes," the hypnotized CEO said softly, eyes wide and vacant.
 
"Good, now, are you the superheroine known as Power Girl?" the apple shaped scientist demanded.
 
"I was...I'm on leave due to all of this," Karen said, patting her rolly polly midsection.
 
"Good, good, because between your two identities you're going to help me get a box of my treats in front of every woman in the world," Ivy smiled.
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Well things will definitely get "interesting" to say the least, I didn't expect that Ivy would hypnotize Power Girl and continue with her mission to fatten up the women of the entire world but it actually happened so now I'll have to wait and see how things continue from now on. Thanks for all your hard work!

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But just HOW will Karen be able to mass produce enough muffins for the whole world? This calls for a new invention. It would be real nice to get up in the morning, push a button and have muffins... but there IS no muffin-button...

 

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