“Absolutely not!” Felicia Hardy said distastefully. The woman known as Black Cat was already dressed in her trademark skintight outfit. The spandex costume outlined her slender breasts and buttocks, but at the same time drew attention to her muscular torso. Curvaceous and slender, simply put, Felicia Hardy was built like a thief.
“Felicia, don't be unreasonable about this!” replied Sharon Carter, a SHIELD operative. Although her clothing was more uniform than Felicia's, it was nonetheless a bodysuit.
“Why the hell should I feel any other way?” Felicia shook her silver hair back. “You're asking me to sleep with the monster I utter hate!”
“His wife Francisca is dead,” Sharon expected. “This is going to be follow-up operations.”
“Which means?” Felicia's intense eyes glared back at Sharon.
“Which means you're interested, Cat,” Sharon said. “Or you wouldn't have added 'which means' part.”
“Maybe I am. Maybe the thought of getting back at that bastard does bring a purr to my smile.” Felcia grinned inwardly.
“Then you'll do it?” Sharon asked.
“Yes, but this time, you owe me,” Felicia said, and bounded out the window towards Fisk Industries.
* * *
Wilson Fisk, the man known as Kingpin, bit into his fruit with triumphant satisfaction. Ambrosia. The fruit at a glance resembled a golden apple. But its contents were just as succulent as its interior. The taste filled his mouth with a million joys...there was no way to describe it...
Fisk had acquired Ambrosia from its mythological namesake. After the drunk apparent hero Hercules related to him the location of the legendary Mount Olympus, the Kingpin personally lead a contingent of mercenaries to capture the home of the Gods.
Had Fisk attempted to invade Asgard, he knew he would have been thwarted. But the Olympians were no more than empowered superhumans, similar to mutants only on a much more heightened scale. With the aid of several souped-up Sentinels and the best mercs in the buz...they fell easily, leaving their fruit ripe for the picking.
But these fruit...soon to be the next best-selling hit on the street...needed one more variable to make them truly masterpieces. Fisk laid a basket of apples in front of a strange machine, which hummed to life and shot a wide beam of light into the apples. Fisk stepped in front of the beam and basked in its glow. It was the Genetic Recombinator.
* * *
The rent-a-cop dribbled coffee down his lab again. He swore, and right before doing so, took another bite out of his donut, spilling even more powder upon his uniform. Just because he was for rent didn't mean he didn't have to behave like his hired counterparts.
“Oh, I'll get that,” came a raspy female voice.
A silk gloved hand ran against his thigh, where he had spilt the powder. The rent-a-cop looked in in pure wonder as he eyed the hand back to its owner. The Black Cat lifted the crumbs between her fingers and seductively licked her finger, purring as she did though.
The rent-a-cop looked on in nearly morbid curiosity...what did he do? He glanced the Black Cat over with her adoring smile, snow white hair, and body to kill for. She was docked in her skin-tight outfit. Her abs ran powerfully against her torso, before giving way to her thin thighs and curvaceous buttocks.
The rent-a-cop at this time was on the verge of peeing his pants. His mind was in the miss in so many directions, he could hardly move. A press of the button could send several of the Kingpin's well-armed henchmen through the door, but did he really want to do though with such an exquisite creature.
“Its alright, Mr. Jeeves,” rang Wilson Fisk's sharp voice through the intercom. “I'm expecting her.”
The door opened automatically, and the Black Cat strode forward seductively, shaking her hips from side to side as she entered the room. The rent-a-cop regretted being a married man by this point.
* * *
“Good evening, Ms. Hardy.” Kingpin took a stereotypical swing with his golf club.
“You said you were expecting me,” Black Cat meowed as she strolled into the room.
“Yes, I knew we would have business sooner or later,” Kingpin said, completing his swing. His golf ball narrowly missed the hole. Felicia gritted her teeth as she came from behind Fisk and caressed her arms now his back, taking hold of his massive hands.
“Your aim is just a tad off, it seems to me,” she said, feeling the warmth of his heavy hands. She gently gave his hands a bit of a tilt, and the ball slid back into the nearest golf hole. Black Cat felt of a pang of what could be called guilt just moments after the ball tipped into the hole. She took her hands off of Fisk immediately. Perhaps she was letting her role get the best of her already.
“So what is it you came here for?” Fisk put his golf club back into a small sheathe. “Excuse me for my ingratitude, but given our past circumstances, I can't believe you'd come all the way up here to improve my par.”
Felicia Hardy was a born actress. She moved her hands gracefully up to her neck in a thoughtful yet evasive pose. As she did though, she made sure an extra line of cleavage hung out for Fisk's amusement.
“I heard about Vanessa, Wilson,” Felicia said slyly. “I'm sorry.”
“Had it been otherwise, you'd been dead before you even entered the room,” Fisk said lowly.
“What?” Felicia swung her head in a double take, sending her white mane flowing gracefully about her head. Exposed already?
“But that was before this tragedy happened,” he sighed.
“Was it worth it?” Felicia asked.
“Hmmm?” Fisk turned his head from the shadows.
“Your relationship with Vanessa had been shaky at times at best,” Felicia asked. “Do you believe it was worth it?”
“I believe her death has finally put an end to the Kingpin,” Fisk replied, shaking his head remorsefully from side to side. I'll believe that when I see it, Cat thought. “My time is growing short, the doctors have informed me. Thus I have one last contribution to mankind before I leave.”
The words hit Black Cat like a bullet train. Sharon Carter had told her that Kingpin was merely devastated emotionally. Why set up a hit if Fisk was already terminal? Still, the Black Cat knew better than to accept everything the Kingpin said as the truth.
“Perhaps...” Black Cat nearly choked upon her words. “Perhaps we could talk about it.”
“Well, I do have a little bit of wine and scraps left from my wife's last supper.” Kingpin smiled. Black Cat heartily agreed.
* * *
It was odd to Felicia to eat like this in uniform. Of course, the scraps were more of a five-course dinner than anything else. She barely picked at her food, eating only enough to evade any of Fisk's suspicions. She had to watch what she ate of course, for she must maintain her figure.
“Wilson,” Felicia asked the Kinpin softly. “If you don't mind me asking...how did...”
“It was a heart attack,” the Kingpin explained. But that was strangely odd to Felicia. When she had last seen Vanessa, on the news, she was a woman of perfect health, aristocratic figure and not a hint of illness.
“Is that what's happening...” she began, but Wilson quickly cut her off.
“No!” he bolted and then glazed softly back at her and smiled. “I mean, sorry, no. My end is coming from a cancerous agent within my bloodstream from an earlier experiment.”
“But Wilson...” Black Cat found herself trying to reason with the behemoth. “You're a pretty big boy now.”
“Ha ha ha!” he laughed. “So Western, a one dimensional view of a person. I thought you knew better than that, Ms. Hardy. The apparent 'jelly' that surrounds my body is almost a mutant power. My mobility and muscle content is completely unhindered by my proportions.”
“Sorry I asked,” Black Cat retorted. “I didn't know.”
“Perhaps soon you should,” Fisk replied, biting into his stake.
“What do you mean?” Felicia asked.
“For desert, I have arranged a rare delicacy on such short notice.” The Kingpin removed a small, leather-bound box. He opened it, revealing several pieces of fruit covered in gold.
“You...eat these?” Felicia said, picking one out of the box.
“Why, yes. This is my contribution to the future. This will cure all hunger,” Kingpin boasted.
The Black Cat could almost see her reflection in the golden apple. She sighed and then turned back to Fisk.
“I'll pass, Fisk,” she said, standing up. “Thanks for the offer anyway.”
“Well, my dear, choose wisely,” Fisk drew the box back, save for the one that lied in the palm of her hands. “You may not receive another chance after this.”
“Thanks, but I'll leave that up to Eve or Snow White,” she huffed.
“I understand,” Fisk said in a comforting manner.
No, you don't, Felicia thought.
“Might I at least have a kiss?” Kingpin asked.
It was a surprising question, at first. Certainly, it was one that jolted her back to reality. He pulled her into Fisk's waiting arms. She expected him to try to crush her in a death grasp, but the Black Cat knew she would be quick enough to dig her claws into his back quicker than an angry cat.
But instead, Fisk drew his arms down her shoulders and then reached all the way down to her blue-clad buttocks and squeezed. The gesture was entirely inappropriate and the Black Cat opened her mouth to protest. That's when Fisk planted one on her mouth. It was long and sensual. But as the gray liquid ran down her cheek, the Black Cat drew back.
“You...you...drugged me!” she snapped. She couldn't believe she didn't see it coming.
“Don't worry my dear,” Fisk explained. “Its hardly deadly. It's more of a compulsive drug.”
“Compel me to do...what?” she struggled as it began to take effect.
“For one thing, not tear my gizzards out,” he laughed. “But lastly, take a bite out of the Fruit of Knowledge.”
* * *
Felicia tried to resist. But her claws were already retracted. She was already making her way to the apple. Inside, she was fighting like a cornered animal. But on the outside, she showed no resistance at all.
She sunk into the apple with her teeth. Its taste was amazing. Her taste buds tingled, simulating the taste of several fruits she loved, and others she had never tasted before.
She took another bite. This time with less resistance. Her will was diminishing with each bite. She no longer saw Wilson Fisk as the Kingpin, as the treacherous scumbag, as the monstrous criminal or even the evil killer. He was now the life-giver, lending way to a whole new side of Felicia Hardy.
She saw a piece of apple crumb lying upon his face. She knew he had planted it there. But she no longer cared. Not about Sharon. Not about the mission. She licked it out seductively and swallowed.
Wilson unbuttoned his shirt, revealing several hundreds of fat upon his torso. He picked up the box of apples and gestured towards the bedroom. She followed not obediently, but erotically excited. He shut the door on after she entered.
* * *
“Felicia? Where were you? You missed contact at 0500?” Sharon Carter said.
“It's done, okay!” Felicia's voice was tear-stained. “I gutted the bastard and I enjoyed it!”
“Felicia! Get ahold of yourself? What's wrong?” Sharon said.
“Nothing wrong! But I'm not one of your licensed killers! I'm not one of your whores!” she replied.
“Alright...you've done a duty to your country, and no one can ask anymore. Thank you.”
Sharon Carter hung up the phone.
* * *
Felicia wiped a single tear that ran down her cheek. She was in a dark hallway, changing her clothes. Then a voice protruded from within the bedroom.
“You are ever the actress, my dear,” Fisk said smugly.
“Thanks, dear,” Felicia replied happily.
“No, thank you, Ms. Hardy, for everything.” the Kingpin replied.
Felicia groaned and moaned as she slipped her costume on. But it was more than just slipping. Felicia now seemed be struggling with her skintight outfit.
“Is there a problem, my dear?” Fisk asked from within the bedroom.
“No,” Felicia responded, still cloaked within the shadows. “My costume just seems to be a little snug.”
“It was always a little snug,” Fisk said, looking up, and then continuing to jolt down some notes upon a piece of paper.
“If you say though...” Felicia said, sighing.
“The Ambrosia test has come to a halt upon its first subject. It is a triumphant success. Once the subject has ingested two milligrams, they become instantly addicted to the spice. However, once the subject has ingested an entire batch of Ambrosia, they forget they were ever addicted to such a thing. We foresaw such a problem, and added specific mind-altering substances into the plant to keep the specimens under our control. While these substances do not leave the subject completely under our control, they have removed several moral barriers from their minds, allowing them to see things my way. Also, the Ambrosia sample had a wanton and unforeseeable side effect...but it's all for the better.”
“Wilson, I'm ready,” said Black Cat as she began to step into the room. Wilson put down his pencil and looked towards the heroine clad in leather as she entered his bedroom.
Once weighing in at 125 lbs, Black Cat, also known as Felicia Hardy, had gained 56 pounds, weighing her in at 181. At 5'10'', she was already a knockout. Her stomach no longer portrayed a series of rocky abs, but instead a bowl full of jelly. Her hips were now large and curvaceous, as was her buttocks, which bobbed up and down with the slightest movement. Her breasts were now sliding past even her suit, to compensate for an increased bust size. Wilson Fisk gently touched her by her fatty double chin, and then met her puffy lips with a brisk kiss.
“What was that for?” Felicia asked, pleasantly surprised.
“Just old time's sake,” he said amused.
“I'm going to the Museum to pick some things up. Was there anything you wanted in particular?” she asked, pressing her wide torso against his.
“That Genghis Khan exhibit looked utterly fascinating,” he replied.
“Alright. I may be back a little late,” she said, patting her thunderous thighs. “I think I'm going to have a little trouble sliding through those lasers.”
“Don't worry my dear,” Wilson explained. “Just as there are disadvantages, there are also advantages. Wondrous things are now possible.”
“I look forward to hearing all about that,” she said. “Was there anything else?”
“Yes,” he said, matter-of-factly. “You said Peter Parker is Spiderman.”
“Right,” she replied.
“And he's married to that lovely Mary Jane model?” he asked.
“Yes,” Felicia said in a down-trodden tone. “Why?”
“Nothing. I was just considering sending her a fruit basket.”