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Batman hasn’t contacted me for a job in MONTHS!! So can you really blame for me getting so fat? Fatgirl, I mean Batgirl doesn’t even look that big? She could literally gain more weight and I don’t think anyone would notice.. Those sidekick suits are meant to be super slimming, so why not just become as plump as possible until Batman is forced to bring it up at our next Bat-meeting xD
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This file contains: batgirl | fat chat | weight gain | jumping | battling with tight outfit | latex Batgirl has gained way to much weight to fit the Batsuit that Batman created for her and is now freaking OUT over the thought of him kicking her off the team.. She tries many times to squeeze that huge gut into her tight and shiny latex outfit with no luck. Batman is gonna get so angry when he sees just how FAT batgirl has become.. come lurk thread my batgirl thread ~ more pics of me$8.49
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This file contains: batgirl | drool | messy face | food all over body | creamy liquids Batgirl has lost total control!! She has become completely insatiable, committing acts of pure hedonism. This video was sent to me by a sock account.. It shows a barely dressed Batgirl pouring cream into her mouth until it overflows down her chest and body.. A truly shocking site for those who remember her as a slender, health cautious desk jockey 😵 come lurk thread my batgirl thread ~ more pics of me$8.49
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[I'm planning to upload this story to Curvage in chunks, but the rest can be read here: https://www.deviantart.com/weapona] Chapter 1 From the time she could walk, Cassandra Cain (aka Batgirl) had moved like a gazelle: hyper-alert, effortlessly sure-footed, and astonishingly quick. Perhaps it was genetics. Her mother was similarly gifted. That being said, Lady Shiva’s was the methodical grace of an apex predator. She was more experienced, knowing precisely what she was capable of (which was a good deal) and recognizing her limits (which comprised a much shorter list). Unstoppable, glacial floes of ice – not fire – pumped through her veins. Cass was younger, though, and blazing with untapped potential. She was still improving, still testing boundaries. If she was ever going to find her limits, she’d surely do it the hard way. She was too reckless, too stubborn – too hungry – for anything else. There was something more than genetics to her, then. Perhaps it was upbringing. In some ways, Cass had been raised like a gazelle by her father, the assassin David Cain: constantly surrounded by lions. The slightest moment of weakness could be a death sentence. The softest, padding footstep, the faintest rustle in the tall grass… She had learned to see and hear everything and to respond with the speed of lightning and the precision of a tornado that could snatch up a carton of eggs and set it down, unscathed, a hundred miles away. That, though, was something no one had taught her, something that made Cassandra neither predator nor prey. Just Cass. Just Batgirl. In spite of her mother, she was merciful. In spite of her father, she was unafraid. For someone who had only ever known violence, she could be surprisingly gentle, which was just as well for her friend Stephanie. “Aaaaugh…” Stephanie Brown (also aka Batgirl) had taught the formerly mute and illiterate Cassandra more words than anyone except perhaps her mentor Barbara Gordon. She even seemed to invent a few new ones every time the two of them sparred, a verbose series of grunts and groans that were unfamiliar to even Cass, who had punched more people than she had spoken to. Unlike Cassandra’s father, Stephanie’s hadn’t taught her to be silent – he hadn’t taught her much of anything, for that matter. She had learned to make her own way in the world, to voice her opinions freely and without apology, almost as if to prove to herself and everyone else that she was, in fact, present and worth paying attention to. People like her father ignored her at their own risk, but not Cass. She truly enjoyed listening to Steph talk. Not that she was doing much of that at the moment, lying on her face with her purple cape splayed to one side. “Uuuuugh…” When compared to most people, Stephanie was an excellent fighter: resilient, quick on her feet, and willing to fight dirty. Cass, on the other hand, found her style slow and clumsy, to put it generously. At least she was learning to fall pretty gracefully, but perhaps that was to be expected. She’d gotten a lot of practice during their weekly sparring sessions, with the rocky cave floor leaving more than a few tears in her old Spoiler costume (which she’d been forced to don while some quick repairs were made to her new, Batgirl suit – similarly mangled, courtesy of the floor). Not even breathing heavily, Cass pulled up her cowl, allowing her small mop of messy black hair to flop forward before she shook most of it out of her face. She leaned forward, flicking through the pockets of Steph’s utility belt until she found her phone and jabbed in the password ($p*!l#r@l#rt!). A moment later, Cass found what she was looking for: a small app labeled with large red letters. Big Belly Burger. “All right, Cheater.” Stephanie grumbled, propping herself up on her elbows and squinting up at Cass. “What am I getting you today?” Cass held out the phone so she could see. “Four quarter-pounders, 2 XL fries, and 2 chocolate milkshakes…” It was an obscene amount of food for a girl who weighed 110 pounds, but Steph’s eyes slid past the alarming calorie counts to the only number that truly concerned her. It, too, amounted to a shockingly high total. “Really, Cassie? A 50% tip?” Cass shrugged. “I need to see if a billionaire will adopt me sometime,” the blonde Batgirl sighed. “Or win sometime.” Cass shrugged again. Steph glared at her through watery, bloodshot eyes. “I don’t know what you’ve more completely destroyed… my body… my soul… or my bank account…” “Want food?” “Not fair, Cass. My wallet… is empty… My stomach… is halfway across the room…” “I’ll have Alfred make tea.” “Thank you. None of that stuff your Mom makes, though!” “It’s good for you. Strong.” Cass flashed a disapproving frown. “Less sugar.” “Don’t talk to me about sugar, Cassie. You drink milkshakes the size of your own freaking torso!” Cass glanced down at her lean, powerful body, patting her rippling abs appraisingly. “Small milkshake, then,” she pronounced happily, turning and walking toward the stairs that wound upward from the Batcave to Wayne Manor. She thrust her tiny but powerful fist defiantly into the air, causing her black cape to flutter behind her. “Need fuel!” “Were you low on fuel before?! Now, there’s a scary thought…” Stephanie managed to sit up, then thought about standing. She thought about it for some time. In fact, she was still thinking about it when Cass returned with her order, which practically overflowed her slender, gauntleted arms. She took the steps two at a time despite the fact that she had a mug balanced on her head – the white one with the tiny Nightwing (Alfred was a collector). Cass dropped the bags full of food on the cave floor, then crouched in front of Steph. “Ooh, yes… Gimme caffeine,” Stephanie moaned, opening and closing her hands. Cass smirked at her and subtly shook her head. The mug hardly wavered. “Brat.” Steph struggled to sit up, reaching feebly, only for her tormentor to hop lightly backward like a little gremlin. This time, the tea spilled a little, a drop trickling down the side of Cass’s face and connecting with her impish smile. “Mm. Sweet.” Stephanie’s eyes flashed. “Oh yeah? Let’s see how you like it—” She tried to grab the greasy fast food bags, but Cass scooped them up before she could so much as blink. Still, she’d made her point, and Cass leaned forward so Steph could retrieve the mug. Then, she hauled Stephanie upright, allowing the still-exhausted girl to lean against her appreciatively. While Stephanie sipped her tea, Cass inspected her own spoils of war, tearing through the paper bags like a wild animal. In addition to everything she’d ordered, Cass had apparently received enough barbecue sauce to fill a small pond. The perks of a 50% tip, presumably. She wasted no time drenching her burgers in the stuff, and even her fries, and a fair amount spilled on her sleek black bodysuit as well. Stephanie laughed. “You might want to go a little easy on the fuel, Cass, before you start to resemble a storage tank. Even your metabolism has its limits!” Cass stared at her for a moment, cheeks puffed out with her mouth full to bursting, then shrugged and returned to her burger before she had even had the chance to swallow. Steph stifled a giggle. Her fellow Batgirl had learned to fight from the greatest warriors on earth, but clearly, none of them had taught her how to eat. Cassandra Cain moved like a gazelle, but she chewed like a hippopotamus. ***** “Yesyesyesyes!” Stephanie jumped off the couch, waving a letter printed in very small type on red-and-gold paper. “Wha[t] i[s] i[t]?” Cass asked through a mouthful of breakfast. “Ivy University.” Her friend grinned widely, her pretty face outshining even her flow of bright, golden hair. “I got the scholarship!” She ran over to the table, giving Cass a fierce hug. Cassandra laughed. “Goo[d] jo[b]!” She swallowed with some difficulty, then swiveled in her seat to properly face Steph, who was practically vibrating. “You’re coming too, right?” Steph demanded. “To Ivy?” Cass hesitated. “What if they need me here?” “Well, gee, I dunno. If only we knew someone who owned a billion private jets, planes, cars, and Bat-boats.” Steph rolled her eyes. “Come on! Ivy Town needs us, Cassie.” Cass scoffed, returning to her small mountain of syrup-soaked, buttery pancakes. “They [s]ay i[t’s] the [s]afe[st] pla[ce] on ear[th].” “Don’t believe everything you see on commercials. Sure, the crime rates are low, but maybe their businesses are secretly in decline. You can save the local economy with your love of breakfast!” It was Cass’s turn to roll her eyes, chugging some freshly squeezed orange juice to wash down Alfred’s world-famous flapjacks. “What about dinner?” “I’m sure they’ve also got plenty of Big Belly Burgers for you to put in your big belly,” Steph quipped, patting Cassandra’s stomach, which was indeed looking a little rounder that morning. “I’m just a little full!” “Well, I guess four plates of pancakes will do that to you, not to mention that…” Stephanie laughed, grabbing a napkin to wipe off some of the syrup covering Cass’s slightly reddened cheeks. “Maybe I shouldn’t count on you getting accepted in the first place, Miss Piggy. A prestigious university may not want to admit such a slob.” “I’ll get in.” Cass smirked. “I’ve got good grades.” “Oh, yeah. I’m sure all those acceptance letters are because of your grades and have nothing to do with every school in the country wanting Bruce Wayne’s daughter as an alumnus…” Cass hummed a little, picking up her fork again but pausing a few inches from the plate. “You think it will be good? School?” “Absolutely. One hundred percent.” “But what if—” “Hey!” Steph slugged her shoulder. “Don’t wimp out on me now. We said we’d get our degrees together. Ivy’s got a great dance program, and given how much your reading has improved, I doubt you’ll even need my help with the other classes.” Cass frowned but then nodded slowly. “Okay. We can try i—” Stephanie hugged her again, laughing and rocking from side to side. Cass could feel her pulse with excitement and smiled a little in spite of herself. Glancing at the brochure Steph had dropped on the table, she saw big buildings with classical architecture… spotless dorm rooms and pearly smiles… cloudless skies and freshly cut grass. It all made Cassandra a little uneasy, though. In a place like that, what could go wrong? ***** “I’m bored…” Cassandra fell lightly on her back, sprawling with effortless, haphazard grace across a massive blue couch with her small booted feet dangling over an armrest. Her left arm drooped toward the floor, gloved fingers picking restlessly at the carpet. Stephanie glanced up from the loose papers spread around her desk. “Oh, hey. Didn’t hear you come in.” “I can’t hear anything either,” Cass grumbled. “You know, most people see the lack of crime as a good thing.” “It is good,” she conceded. “But I know there must be criminals somewhere, and that’s where I should be.” “You should be in class. Maybe you wouldn’t be so bored if you didn’t sleep all morning, mope around all afternoon, and stay up till a quarter to five roaming the streets.” “It’s so quiet,” Cass insisted, frowning. “I must be missing something. No place is this quiet.” “Trust me, compared to Gotham, most places are going to seem boring, but if you’re willing to look around, you might be surprised what you uncover.” “I have been looking—” “Cass, I mean at school.” Stephanie crossed her arms. “Join a club or something. The other students won’t bite. Much. Probably.” Cass tilted her head. “What does that mean?” Steph hesitated. “Just that you’re not around much, and when you are, you’re very… quiet. People think you’re judging them. Or planning to kill them. Or planning to kill and eat them. You should try blinking more.” “Hmm.” Cass pursed her lips. She couldn’t really deny what Stephanie was saying – she could read body language better than most, and she could acknowledge that her own was not always the most casual or friendly. “Or you know…” “What?” Cass stared. Steph looked at her for a moment. Then, slowly, the corners of her mouth turned up and pulled back. “No.” “Why not?” she sighed. “I smile when I’m happy. When I’m at school, I’m bored. All the time.” Stephanie frowned, then abruptly stood up. “No. Not all the time.” She was grinning again. Cass blinked up at her. “What?” “I know something that makes you smile…” “Yeah?” “Food!” “Oh. How does that—” “You could join the Baking Club!” Steph suggested. “There’s a club for that?” “There’s a club for everything.” “But I can’t cook.” “I’ll give ya some pointers. They’ll never be able to tell.” “Steph, you can’t cook either. Why do you think we order out all the time?” Stephanie scowled. “Hey, that’s on you and that garbage disposal you call a stomach.” Cass shrugged. “Try winning.” “How about you try a freaking vegetable?!” “No.” Cass swung her legs up, flipping gracefully backward onto her feet and stretching, her cape sliding off of the couch and flowing smoothly around her petite but muscular frame as she twisted around. “Bedtime.” “I’m forging your signature on the sign-up sheet tomorrow,” Stephanie warned. Cassandra yawned. “If they want me, I’ll be in my bed.” She started to walk away, then stopped, halted in her tracks by a familiar gurgling. “Snack first,” she muttered. “Can I borrow your phone?” “You know, you have one too.” “Don’t know where it is.” “Probably on a rooftop somewhere… Fine, I guess, but make sure that you get—” Steph broke off. “Actually. On second thought.” Cass crossed her arms. She was getting that look again… “Steph.” “Oh, yesss…?” “What is it.” “I just remembered a little something I left in the fridge.” Steph jogged over to the kitchen. “C’mon. Give it a try!” Cass followed, mildly intrigued. “Give what a try?” “A bunch of clubs had tables set up in the common area, and the Baking Club was giving out samples.” “What kind?” “Cupcakes!” Stephanie grinned before sliding smoothly in front of the container to carefully conceal its Walmart packaging. She grabbed a couple of cupcakes and turned, waving them invitingly. Cass smiled slightly. “Okay, fine.” She took one cupcake, peeled off the wrapper, and popped the treat into her mouth. She chewed for a bit, pupils dilating subtly, then reached for the other one. A moment later, it too was stuffed into her mouth, and she began chewing loudly. “Pretty good, right?” Steph crossed her arms. “Mmm… Mhm…” Cass nodded, her ballooning cheeks wobbling ever so slightly. “So, forget about the cooking. Stick around for the eating. Here, have some more cupcakes!” “Mmm, mm-mmm…” “So, will you sign up tomorrow? Just to give it a try?” “Mmm… Mm-mm.” “Great! Here’s another to celebrate.” (Steph might have bought way too many cupcakes…) ***** The next morning, Cass and Steph headed down to the common room, wandering between tables advertising various student groups. “Ooh, look – gymnastics.” Stephanie nudged her taciturn friend. “You should try out. You’d be great at it!” “No thanks.” Cass shook her head. “Too many people watching.” “Like that’s ever stopped you before, Odette…” Cass flushed. “Ballet is different. When the music starts… No one else is there.” “Fair enough. When are practices, by the way?” “At night.” She scowled. “Great! Less time for sulking around street corners.” “Hnh.” “Don’t worry. I’ll pick up the slack, run around in the dark…” Steph yawned. “I could definitely use the exercise if I want to skip the Freshman 15. Gotta watch my figure.” “All of us have to.” Cass flashed a mischievous smile, nodding pointedly at Steph’s backside, which was by no means large but was undeniably broader and flatter than Cassandra’s small but perfectly sculpted curves. “Have to make room.” “Oh yeah? Are you calling me fat, you little—” Stephanie tried to smack Cass’s shoulder, only to swat a handful of air. “Not fat, just slow.” Cass leaned against a pillar several yards away and smirked. Her smile faded slightly, though, when she realized that half the room was staring at her. “What did I do?” she hissed to Steph. “Won some fans, probably,” Stephanie whispered back. “Half of these tables are for groups of athletes, and you’re the only girl here with a six-pack, dancing around like Muhammad freakin’ Ali. You look like you’d have an easier time breaking the sound barrier than a sweat.” “They should blink more,” Cassandra muttered. Then, her nose twitched, and she barrelled over to one of the tables as if intent on knocking it over. “You make cupcakes?” The girl sitting at the table blinked. “Sometimes.” “Where do I put my name?” “Uh, the clipboard?” “No gymnastics… no soccer… no track,” Cassie declared, scribbling furiously on the paper, then brandishing the pen like a sword. “I am with the Baking Club!” “Bon appétit.” Steph twirled a lock of her hair, wandering over. She glanced down at the slightly rumpled sheet, then up at the girl. “Uh, her name’s Cass. Cass Wayne.” Cass had gotten pretty good when it came to the movements of handwriting and the shape of letters, but unfortunately, she would sometimes put five or six of those shapes in a space only a few millimeters wide, especially when she got excited. “Oh.” The girl nodded. “Okay. Email address?” Stephanie shifted over and picked up the pen. “Cass, do you want me to…?” Cass had already moved on to inspecting the plates of samples, which Stephanie decided to take as a “yes.” “I’m Stephanie, by the way,” she chirped while jotting Cass’s email down. “Nice to meet you. I’m Adrianna.” Adrianna was a pale, brunette girl with a thin face that seemed inclined to frown. She frowned now, glancing from Stephanie to Cassandra with a mildly curious expression. The two didn’t look much alike, nor act much alike. Stephanie seemed upbeat and laidback, a bright personality with a colorful flair. She was a little on the tall side and in good shape. Her hair was long, straight, and blonde, and her lightly freckled features were a touch soft but well-defined. She seemed quick to smile and carried herself casually, wearing roomy, high-waisted jeans that flattered her curvy, borderline buxom figure and perfectly matched her pink sweater. Cassandra didn’t wear much pink. She seemed a bit uneasy in the crowded area, slouching a bit with her hands held close to her body. Her face was small and round, with a similarly small, round nose and big brown eyes. Her hair was short and messy – clean, but sloppily maintained. The look suited her, though, partly because apart from her clothes (a baggy crop top and a pair of black shorts that sagged slightly at the waist), there wasn’t much else that was sloppy about her. She looked like an Olympic gymnast, barely five feet tall but with legs thicker than her waist. Her arms were slender but tightly muscled, and her expression alone would have been compelling evidence that she packed more of a wallop than most people twice her size. “She doesn’t look like she’d be that much into food,” Adrianna remarked slowly. Steph chuckled. “Oh, you’d be surprised. She’s a ballerina.” And also a crime-fighting super-ninja… Adrianna’s eyes bugged. “What?” Steph laughed. The other girl chuckled weakly. “Oh, uh, nothing. That just, um… explains it. Our Club’s president is a ballerina, too, and she eats as much as a football player. Skinny as a twig, though.” “Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure that Cass here eats as much as a football team… Isn’t that right, Cassie?” “Hm?” “You know, you probably shouldn’t sample everything, Champ.” “It’s fine.” Adrianna sighed. “This is our last day out here, and Lesley said that I have to eat any leftovers to keep them from going stale.” “Oh. Is Lesley—” “The president, yeah. She was annoyed because I kept coming up with excuses to skip working these recruitment tables, so today, I’m doing it all myself…” “Nice.” Stephanie snorted. “I mean, she sometimes is.” Adrianna bit her lip. “She’s just been in an especially bad mood lately because some new rich kid came in and stole the—” She broke off, glancing at Cassandra and clearly doing some quick mental arithmetic. Stephanie put the pieces together even more quickly. She laughed nervously. “You know, could we take that name off the list…?” “Why?” Cass interjected, seeming to have noticed the change in Steph’s demeanor. “What’s wrong?” “Well, um, it sounds like the Baking Club’s president might, you know…” Stephanie flashed a forced, apologetic grin. “…hate you.” Cass paused. “Why? Too much staring?” “Too much starring, actually. I guess you’re just too much of a prima ballerina, Champ!” “She’s mad I got the lead?” “Uh, yeah. You’re new here, so people who have been here a while might feel like they’ve done more to earn the top spot, even though you undoubtedly, completely deserve it, and if I hear even one clown say ‘nepotism—’” “Nepo…” “Nepotism. It’s when… um… when people get extra opportunities just because of who’s in their family, which totally isn’t—” Cass straightened. “They don’t think I’m good enough?” “Aw, who cares what they think?” Stephanie waved dismissively. “I just thought maybe you could, like, make sure to avoid this Lesley person at all costs.” “Why? I’m not scared of her!” “Of course not, but I’m trying to—” “When’s the first meeting?” Cass leaned toward Adrianna, who had begun to gather the remaining plates of food. “Tuesday at 9:30.” Steph perked up at this glimmer of hope. “Cass, when’s ballet?” “Six-thirty to nine.” “Oh. Right.” Steph supposed that this shouldn’t have come as a surprise. When one was president of the Baking Club, one could make sure meetings weren’t until after one’s other stuff… Worse, this Lesley had to be pretty deranged to schedule something at such a late hour on a school night… “Are you gonna eat all of that?” Cass asked Adrianna. “Unless someone rescues me.” “I can take that. And that. And—” “Do you want the tablecloth, too, while you’re at it?” “Be careful what you suggest. She’d probably eat the chairs if they were frosted.” Stephanie rolled her eyes. She placed her hands on Cass’s shoulders, steering her away from the table. “C’mon. We’ve got class. You might have all the snacks your greedy heart desires, but I intend to feast my eyes on that TA with the nice…” Her voice slowly faded in the distance. The brown-haired girl watched them go, then sat in silence for a very long moment before quietly standing and gathering up the corners of the tablecloth. She pulled them together, drawing up the few remaining plates of snacks into a tightly packed bundle. Then, she began humming as she wandered over to the nearest trash can, dropping it all inside without a second thought for the discarded food – not even the most resilient of the bunch, a tray of cherry jigglers that collapsed into a gelatinous heap at the bottom of the trash can and wobbled feebly for several moments as if trying to escape.
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