Capes and Cuisines #1: Too Many Sweets for the Sweet! (SSBBW, XWG, Stuffing)

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Well-Known Member
Jan 1, 2013
~BBW, SSBBW, Stuffing, and a smidgen of Humiliation ~XWG - When a young heroine is kidnapped by a devious villain, it's up to her friend to save the day. Can she save her captured companion without succumbing to traps most twisted, diabolical, and fattening?

Author's Note: This is a story I posted up on Fantasy Feeder a while back and it's part of a bigger story line that I intend to get back to very soon. It's also the second FA/WG story I've ever written, so let me know what you think!

Capes and Cuisines #1:
Too Many Sweets for the Sweet!

by Vongola27

Part 1: When A Fool Calls

In which we meet our heroes, our villain, and the plot grows as thick as Ultragirl's waist

Winggirl was not a fan of Metroville: it was too bright, too cheerful, and most of all, too open. Whenever she went there, she always felt exposed; there were no gargoyles for her to hide behind or dark alleys to duck into. She hated how everyone brought attention to her, even if she was trying to be stealthy and take down a villain while unseen. But probably the worst part of the city was its protector, Ultragirl.

Ultragirl was the cousin of Ultraman, the greatest hero on the planet, and whenever he was off-planet, he would leave the blond brat in charge of Metroville.

To be fair, Ultragirl was not the worst hero ever, but she still had a lot to learn about the job. She was too brash and bold when it came to fighting the bad guys, which meant even more destruction than usual, plus she did such a terrible job with clean-up and repair that the city had told her to stop trying to fix everything. And while she might have been nigh invulnerable, she still underestimated her enemies, which often meant that someone (Winggirl) would have to save her.

Why was it Winggirl's responsibility to save this naïve sidekick? For starters, they were both teammates on the Teen Defenders, and with the rising mortality rate among teen heroes, they all had to watch out for each other. Second, they were both apprentices of the world's greatest heroes, who in turn were close friends, so she feared the retribution of a vengeful Ultraman. Above all else, Winggirl was the first human Ultragirl had formed a bond with: when she arrived a few years back, the poor girl had mistaken Wingman's sidekick for a former friend on Argon; even after they cleared up her misunderstanding, Ultragirl clung to Winggirl like glue. Much as she hated it, she was stuck taking care of the girl.

Which brings us to her latest visit to the city. Last night, as she was pursuing the Clown, Winggirl received a call from Ultragirl, who told her about the most amazing bakery that had opened in Metroville. She went on and on about the place, praising their donuts and cheering their éclairs, and just before Winggirl could hang up, Ultragirl asked her to come visit on the weekend and try the store out.

"Mara," Winggirl had said, "I've got a very busy weekend ahead of me; I'm still trying to find the Puzzler. Can't you get Titania to go with you?"

"She's out visiting her uncle this weekend. Come on, Brenda, it'll be fun! We can munch on sweets, talk about cute boys, and tell jokes about procreation, just like in the movies. It'll be a blast!"

Winggirl rolled her eyes. That was another problem she had with Ultragirl; she was still trying to learn the English tongue, so whenever they spoke, it came out rough.

"I'll see what I can do. Got to go: the Clown just let out laughing gas!"

She clicked her phone off and pursued the villain of the evening, putting Ultragirl's request at the back of her mind. By the time she had returned to the Aerie, it was all but forgotten until she got another call, again from Ultragirl.

Frustrated after failing to catch the Clown, Winggirl took the call and barked, "What do you want, Mara?!"

"That's not way to talk to a friend," came a slithery voice on the other end. Winggirl recognized it right away: the Fool.

The Fool was one of the Man of Might's oldest enemies and one of the least respected. She started out when Ultraman was still developing his powers, back when he was still only leaping tall buildings and moving faster than a bullet. Having no powers of her own, the Fool relied on jokes and tricks to confuse the mighty hero so that she could commit crimes without him knowing. It was all a game to her and for a while, she was considered a worthy adversary of Ultraman, but that changed as time went on.

When Ultraman learned how to fly and shoot lasers from his eyes, villains like the Fool or the Dollmaker were not worthy of his attention; all it took was a stern look to send the normal crooks running. After calls stopped coming in for their help, Dollmaker retired from the business and made toys for charity, but the Fool never gave up. She was determined to keep playing tricks on the Man of Might whether she profited from them or not; she lived for the thrill of the gag, not the reward. And when Ultragirl moved into town, she found herself a new rube to mess with, giving the poor, misunderstanding girl a hard time any chance she could. It seemed that she was up to something yet again; Ultragirl was hardly ever without her phone.

"How did you get this phone?" asked Winggirl. "Only Ultragirl can activate it."

"I asked her for it," the Fool replied, acting as if it was so obvious. "You know how she can be, so very trusting and naïve. She really should know better than to let any stranger play with her toys."

"Where is she?"

"In a chair. A comfy one, not like those awful things your rogues use in Arcane City. She's just putting her feet up while I give her a home-cooked meal."

Winggirl had no idea what the Fool meant by that, but nothing she said or did made sense, so she waited for the inevitable explanation. Sure enough, like any good villain, the Fool was happy to elaborate.

"Here," she said, fumbling with the phone, "let me turn on the camera for you."

When Winggirl held her phone before her, she could not believe what she saw. Ultragirl was seated in a recliner, one that could easily fit a sumo wrestler, and she was bathed in blue light. What made the scene so surreal was that Ultragirl looked to be about fifty pounds heavier than when she last saw her.

Everything about her was so much bigger: her breasts were the size of grapefruits, her stomach was the size of a hefty pumpkin, and what little of her legs looked beefier; even her face was rounder and softer, which showed against the metal contraption attached to her head. Four clamps ran from the back of her head and into her mouth, prompting her to chew despite her signs of protest. What was she chewing? Chocolate pies, and plenty of them.

The Fool, giggling all the while, panned the camera across to show a conveyor belt leading from a large pile of sweets to Ultragirl's controlled mouth. Every time she finished chewing, a new sweet came up to her and the poor girl was forced to consume another treat. Dollops of cream and sauce covered her red top and most of her 'U' logo, but she had more pressing things to worry about. As she ate and ate, the Fool brought the camera back around to show her narrow, angular face.

"I'll bet you're wondering what happened, Wing-Thing," the wiry woman said, running a hand through her hair. "Well, it's all very simple. I set up a shop in Metroville and pretended to be an enthusiastic baker, one who loved sharing her sweets with all good people. One hit of the stuff was enough to bring Ultra-bimbo around for more, and after a day or two, she was hooked. I told her about a special treat I was making in honor of her and her cousin and that I wanted her to get a peek at it, so she followed me to my backroom where I bombarded her with blue Argonite rays and stripped her of her powers. I then strapped her into my comfiest chair and hooked up an eating mechanism to her face so that no matter how hard she tries, she won't be able to stop eating."

"How did you manage to make her so big?" Winggirl asked, snapping out of her daze. "I saw her yesterday and she was skinny as a rail."

"Oh, that was easy. Meg Mexlor owed me a favor, so I asked her to make me a chemical that could turn calories instantly into fat. I just mixed it into the pies and voila, Ultragirl becomes Ultra-blimp!"

Winggirl glared at the grinning fiend. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I have a challenge for you, Winggirl," the Fool chuckled. "My hideout is lined with lead, so there's no way Ultraman can look inside and see me. I want to see how one of her little friends does in trying to save her. I've laid out an array of traps, traps that will leave you like Ultra-pig here, and you need to avoid them and get your friend out. Think you can handle that?"

If she could, Winggirl would have reached through the screen and punched the smirking prankster in the face. She growled and said, "I hope you realize what a big mistake you've made, Fool. When I get there, I am going to make you wish you'd retired with the rest of the has-beens."

At that taunt, the Fool scowled. She fixed her green jacket and huffed. "Challenge accepted. Just so you know, that little jab of yours just earned your friend another hundred pies."

Ultragirl's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and she let out muffled pleas for help before the Fool shut off the video. Winggirl stowed her phone away and raced to the Wing, Wingman's flying machine. It was the quickest way to Metroville, and in light of the circumstances, her mentor would not mind her borrowing it.

Winggirl hated going to Metroville. She hated the odd villains, the chipper people, and their all-too-naïve protectors. Ultragirl was annoying, frustrating, and more than a little clingy, but no one was going to mess with her except for Winggirl.


Well-Known Member
Jan 1, 2013
Part 2: The Terrible, Tasty Traps
In which The Fool pontificates and Winggirl encounters the first of several traps

When she cut off the phone call, the Fool turned back to her captive heroine and chuckled. Her plans always worked when it came to the naive girl, which was why she had stayed in the criminal business so long. If only there were more heroes like her in the world, then things would be so much better.

"Honestly, I think I should be thanking you, Ultra-blimp," the grinning villainess said to Ultragirl. "You're so much a better sport than your goody two-shoes cousin. You just keep falling for the same old tricks, day in and day out. And for that, I thank you."

When the blond captive tried to reply, the Fool laughed. "What's that? I couldn't hear you over the pies being forced down your gullet."

The villain withdrew a remote from her coat pocket and pressed a red button, shutting down the feeding machine. As the pies slowed to a halt and the headgear relinquished its hold on her, Ultragirl took a moment to catch her breath. She glared at the Fool and asked, "Why me? Why must you always pick on me? Whatever have I done to you to deserve such treatment?"

The Fool smirked and pinched the heroine's chubby cheeks. "You're just so fun to tease. Every time I pull a prank, I keep thinking you'll wise up, but you never do. It's getting to the point where I just need to put on a pair of glasses and you won't notice it's me."

"That happened but twice!"

"And that's two times more than Ultraman fell for it. Face it, cream puff, you're prime material. Now then, I want you blue ribbon worthy by the time Winggirl shows up. Oh, she is going to DIE when she sees what I've done with you!"

"You will never get away with this! Winggirl will stop your fiendish plot and then--MMPH!"

Ultragirl was cut off by another pie, this one shoved into her face by the Fool. Her captor giggled with glee, "I know she's coming to rescue you, but even someone like her won't be able to get past the traps I've set. Now get eating, porky, because we've got a lot of pies to cover before your friend arrives."

The infernal contraption started back up and Ultragirl was forced to consume more chocolate pies. She continued to glare at the Fool, hoping against hope that her powers would return and she could blast the woman with heat vision, but no dice; the blue Argonite kept her powers at bay. She was utterly helpless, a state which her captor relished. As the chocolate did its work on the girl and fattened her up, the Fool pinched and fondled her growing body.

"Let's see what we've got so far," the nefarious ne'er-do-well mocked. She reached out a hand and pinched the flabs of flesh pooling at Ultragirl's sides. "These are some mighty thick love handles you've got, piglet, and they're only getting thicker by the second."

The Fool reached down and jostled the heroine's enormous belly. "And would you look at this? When you flew back here earlier today, this was flat as a board, but now it's like you've swallowed a beach ball. I wonder how long it'll take before I get it to the size of a yoga ball? Want to take any bets? I wager another hour or so, personally, but who knows?"

When she finished jostling around Ultragirl's expanding belly, the malevolent mistress lifted the great thing up and poked and prodded the girl's thick thighs. "My, I think your thighs might be as big around as my waist. In fact, they might even be bigger than me by this point. That's pretty impressive, I must say; I knew these worked, but I had no idea how much! Oh, I do love it when a plan works out so well!"

Ultragirl scowled and mumbled something through her food, prompting a cruel chuckle from her captor. The Fool leaned in and squished Ultragirl's cheeks. "And you can give me the mean look all night long, but you can't do a thing about this. You are a balloon, Ultragirl, and I'm going to fill you up until I'm ready to march you down mainstreet!"

The Fool pranced off into the darkness of the warehouse, leaving Ultragirl in her halo of blue light. She could feel her costume growing tighter and tighter on her as time passed, but she could do nothing. All she could do was pray that Winggirl got there as soon as she could...


The Wing was one of the fastest ships in the world, but it was still a few hours before it flew into Metroville. By that time, the sun was already rising, blinding Winggirl as it glared into the plane. She shielded her eyes as she searched for a place to land. Settling for a large, empty rooftop, she landed the Wing and ejected, placing it in cloaking mode in the process.

"Where are you, Mara?" she thought aloud as she took out her phone.

Due to the growing connections in the hero community, everyone had specialized phones that allowed them to keep track of each other in case of an emergency. Winggirl used her phone to find where the last call was made. With that as her only clue, the vigilante followed the trail through the city. She leaped across rooftops and zip-lined over Metroville until she came across an empty building with "For Sale" signs in the window.

"This is the place," the young detective remarked as she pocketed her phone. As she scanned the entrance for any tricks and traps, a grating voice came out from a hidden speaker.

"Glad to see you could make it, Wing-Thing," the Fool said, "and just in time. Ultra-whale has just hit the big six-oh-oh! I'd show you a picture, but I don't want to spoil the surprise. Come on in and check her out for yourself!"

The doors on the building burst open and the strong scent of baked goods wafted out. Winggirl could not help her mouth watering at the smell; it was delicious, just like Ultragirl had said. She had a job to do, however, so the lithe detective steeled herself and crept into the bakery.

The inside of the building looked like any normal doughnut shop: chairs and tables lined the place while a big counter and shelves waited towards the back. The lights were on but dim, giving the place an eerie feeling not unlike the hideouts Winggirl was used to raiding. If this were happening in Arcane City, she would be going after The Baker or someone like that.

"To rescue your friend, you need to play my game," the Fool said over the intercom. "Part One: make your way to the kitchen. All you have to do is get to the doors behind the register and you'll pass. Think you can handle that?"

"Easily," Winggirl replied. She took a cautious step out onto the speckled tile floor, easing her way through in case of any hidden traps.

"Relax, the floor's not going to shoot up any spikes or electrify you," said the villainess. "Honestly, you need to get away from Arcane city more often; all those deathtraps can't be any good for your health."

Winggirl ignored the comment and took another step, followed by another and another. Just when she thought it was safe, she stepped on another tile and heard a sudden click from behind her. She wheeled around only to be greeted by a pie to the face; in her surprise, her mouth had been opened and some of the filling got inside. Without thinking, she swallowed some of the chocolate cream, only to feel the effects seconds later.

Her costume grew tighter around her stomach as it lost some of its definition; her breasts grew just a centimeter or three bigger; her legs added a soft, small layer of pudge. Winggirl felt her new body, pinching the new softness that covered her as the Fool laughed from her intercom.

"And that's just one of the traps lying in that room! Oh, and the best part? I am not the Puzzler; there are no hidden switches in here that will stop them. You'll have to be vewy, vewy caweful about where you step, or you might walk out of here the size of an elephant," the Malevolent Mistress of Mayhem cackled.

Winggirl shook her head and wiped away the excess pie from her face. She grumbled, "We'll see about that."

The detective knelt down to the floor and examined the tile she had stepped on and the path she had taken. Nothing incredibly different about them, aside from a slightly different shade of gray lining the tile she was on. If that was a sign of which tile was a trap, Winggirl was in trouble; she could only notice the discoloration up close thanks to the dim lighting in the bakery. She would need to practice care with every step she took, moving lightly enough so she did not activate any more traps. Resolute in her decision, the young heroine took another step forward into the room.

Suddenly, she heard a clicking sound to her left, signaling another trap. Winggirl turned her head to the right instead, only for the pie to appear from that direction. Again the chocolate cream got all over her face and again, some got into her mouth. Though she spat out what she could, the chemicals in the sweets still did their job. Her costume grew tighter around her body as it developed another layer of softness.

"Oh, another misstep by the great teen detective," the Fool giggled with glee. "By my count, there's still another dozen or so traps in there. Good luck to ya, Winggirl; you're going to need it."

Winggirl swiped the cream from her face and grimaced. She was not going to be the Fool's fool, neither today nor ever. If she could not tell what tile was dangerous, then the best course of action was to simply walk over them.

The heroine reached into her utility belt and withdrew her zip-line. She fired one end at the bakery shelves and the other at the doors. Once the line was secured, she pulled herself up and carefully shimmied over to the counter. Because there was no pressure, none of the traps were sprung.

"Nice toy, but it won't save you in the kitchen," the Fool taunted.

Winggirl scowled and made her way to the door. Just as she pushed the door open, a pie sprang out from behind and hit her in the face. Another inch was added to her frame, and Winggirl vowed that she would make the Fool pay for each one...


Well-Known Member
Jan 1, 2013
Part 3: If You Can't Stand The Heat
In which Winggirl enters the kitchen and contends with a bizarre floor plan

The room beyond the counter was like a kitchen designed by Nintendo: the entire floor was one mess of conveyor belts with pits littered throughout; some pits had fire spewing from them while others stayed silent, which only alarmed Winggirl further. She noticed that the fires had a pattern to them, but the silent pits did nothing but emit a sweet smell from inside. It could only mean more dessert-laden traps and after what happened in the room before, the last thing Winggirl wanted was more dessert.

At least, that was what she claimed. In the previous room, there had been an enticing smell that made the young detective's mouth water. Now, that intoxicating scent filled the whole room; it was all she could do to not drool from a whiff of the sweetly scent. Winggirl wiped her lips and reached for her zip-line, only to receive a chiding from the disembodied voice of the Fool.

"Ah-ah-ah! No cheating with your gadgets this time, my dear!" the voice cackled. "Though I suppose you could use it, but we'd have to even it out by giving Ultra-blimp another few dozen pies. Does that sound fair, my obese opal?"

Though it was muffled, Winggirl could hear groans of protest coming from beyond the Fool. The detective gritted her teeth and asked, "What's the gimmick this time, Fool?"

"You've got to get to the other side of the room again, but I've made it a little more challenging this time. To get to the other side, you need to avoid the obvious fire pits and the not so obvious pools of icing and glaze. I shouldn't have to tell you, but this time, the frosting and glaze are much, much more potent than last time. If this seems difficult, then I can give you a hint: somewhere in this room is a switch that will shut down all the conveyor belts. Think you can find it?"

Suddenly, seven large, red switches popped out of the walls all over the room. Winggirl studied them from the doorway to see if there was any sign as to which was the real one, but no dice. The Fool was a clever prankster, and when she wanted to, she could be as bad as the Clown or the Puzzler.

"Bonne chance!" the malevolent manipulator cheered before shutting off the intercom again.

Winggirl glared at the speaker in the ceiling before reaching to her wingarang pouch. The 'W' shaped throwing stars were her best bet at hitting the switches, but she did not want to waste any more than she needed. Feeling around she found she still had twenty-odd weapons, so she withdrew one and hurled it at the farthest switch. When the blade connected with the button, the conveyor belts ground to a halt.

"Too easy," the heroine murmured. Sure enough, just a second later, the belts started running again. She hurled another wingarang at another switch, but the effect was the same; the belts would stop for a second before running again.

"Knowing her, every switch is probably a dummy," Winggirl grumbled. As petty as her crimes were, the Fool could be awfully clever when she wanted to be. Case in point: she left Winggirl with no other choice than to work her way through the maze of conveyor belts.

Once her nerves were steeled, Winggirl stepped out onto a forward moving belt and walked along at a brisk pace. When she saw a fire pit coming upon her, she stepped over to an adjacent belt that was moving backwards. She stepped over to a belt to her right just before hitting a pit of the sweet-smelling icing, and then was carried on towards the exit. Thankfully, the belts were not moving quickly, so Winggirl could easily work around the traps. Unfortunately, that was exactly what the Fool wanted her to do; luring in a false sense of security was one of the oldest tricks in the book.

"Looks like you've got the swing of things," the Fool said through the speaker. "Why don't we try increasing the speed? You look like you could stand to lose a pound or two anyways."

Suddenly, gears began to whir and the belts picked up in speed, forcing Winggirl into a jog. The added weight, being minimal at best, was not enough to offset years of training with Wingman though. Within a few seconds, the hooded heroine was acclimated to the new speed and working her way around the belts. Whenever fire burst out in front of her, she would hop to the side for a moment before hopping back and leaping over the lowered flames. It was like a game of Frogger, only much, much more threatening.

"You're doing pretty well, I must say. Looks like you're almost at the finish line, Winggirl!"

Sure enough, the vigilante had almost reached the other side of the room. She had managed to avoid any of the fires and icing pits with ease, but she knew by now that it could not be that easy.

"You're probably thinking by now, "This can't be that easy; she's much too smart and crafty to put together such an easy trap. And you'd be right! Bombs away!" cackled the mechanical voice.

As Winggirl approached the end, the floor gave way beneath her and she plummeted into a deep pit. Her drop was so sudden and the descent so fast that she had no time to reach for her grappling hook or anything to stop her fall. When she finally hit the bottom, she landed in a pool of chocolate icing, thick and creamy. This time however, unlike the pies, she held her breath before she landed, so none of the goop got into her mouth.

"Buh!" she spluttered as she fought back to the surface. Winggirl was coated from head to toe in the chocolate mess, and she was completely overwhelmed by the sweet smell. She fought every urge to start gulping the icing down and instead focused on wiping her face off so she could see the room above. When she brought her hand to her face, however, she acted without thinking and swiped some of the icing into her mouth.

"Mmm!" Winggirl hummed in surprise. She tried to spit it out but it was too late; once the icing hit her taste buds, that was all it took for the dam to give way.

Winggirl reached down with both hands and began to scoop the icing into her mouth, eliciting passionate moans from the vigilante. She never allowed herself to indulge in sweets; in fact, she had gone months without so much as a chocolate chip. As such, the onslaught of rich cream and sugar brought her to a state she had never been in before. All the heroine could think about was eating all the icing in the pit. This gluttonous desire was not without consequences, however, as the cream did its work on the young detective's body.

Her costume, grown slightly tighter in the previous room, now seemed impossibly tight around her ballooning body. What was once a softened stomach soon became a potbelly the size of a basketball, and from there the size of a watermelon. Her breasts, tiny and flat, were now plump and round like juicy apples. Down below her utility belt, her hips billowed out and grew wide and round; her rear softened and expanded to the point where it seemed two basketballs had replaced her cheeks. And last, her legs, her pride and joy, plumped up like meaty sausages so that they almost began to touch each other. Winggirl paid no attention to the creaking of her uniform and instead focused on getting more and more food in her.

"Winggirl, you cannot give up to this prankster!"

That voice. Mara's voice. Winggirl paused in her mad consumption and listened to Ultragirl.

"Do not let this crude and crass woman defeat you! The Winggirl I know is much stronger than this, and she would not allow herself to be beaten by sweets! Fight back, Winggirl, and hurry!" Ultragirl cried out over the intercom.

Those words shook the entranced heroine from her daze and she remembered what she was supposed to do: save Ultragirl. There was no time to get fat and stupid; she had to rescue her friend.

"Touching speech, Ultragirl; now get back to eating, ya heifer!" cam the Fool's cruel voice. "Sorry about that, Pig-Wing, but I think the best fooling is done when you make people lose hope. Hey, that was awfully dark for me; maybe I should move to Arcane City. Anyway, you're probably feeling awfully hungry, so why don't you keep stuffing yourself into a turkey?"

"No more," Winggirl snarled as she reached into her belt. Out from the goop came her grappling hook, which she fired into the ceiling. The hook caught into the material and, though there was some incredible tension on the line, it pulled Winggirl out of the icing.

"No fair!" the Fool whined. "You can't keep using your toys like that!"

Winggirl said nothing as she began to rock her hefty body back and forth. If she wanted to reach the other side, she needed to build up enough momentum to propel her over the conveyor belts and onto the tiles by the door. If she were fifty pounds thinner, that would have been much easier, but could she do it now?

With a mighty swing, the fattened heroine hurled herself through the air and landed just a foot shy of the exit. Unfortunately, she was still caught on the conveyor belts, and this time, she was moving backwards.

"Hope you don't mind if I crank up the heat in here!"

A burst of heat from behind her signaled another fire was started, which gave Winggirl all the more incentive to run towards the exit. This time, however, she was much more encumbered by her weight and could barely keep ahead of the conveyor belt. Every muscle in her body was saying "Give up" but she shook her head and glared at the door. She was the partner of Wingman; she did not know how to give up. Winggirl summoned up every ounce of strength she had and ran towards the door, her enlarged breasts and belly slapping along the whole way. She managed to beat the belt though, and finally made it to the tiles, where she collapsed into a fit of gasping.

From the speakers came slow clapping. "Bravo, piglet, you've done good. And now you can move on to the next room, the pantry!"

Winggirl pushed open the door and was greeted by another pie. This time, she wiped the cream away, but licked a little from her fingers as well...


Well-Known Member
Jan 1, 2013
Part 4: Into the Pantry
In which Winggirl deals with the most dangerous and simple room yet: walk to the end of the hall and don't eat the food...

While she cleaned the cream from her face, Winggirl's olfactory senses were assaulted by an overpoweringly sweet smell. Once she could open her eyes, she learned just why this was: the next room was nothing more than a hallway, but both walls were lined with baked goods from ceiling to floor. It was not a far walk to the next door, maybe twenty feet or so, but Winggirl could see that there were hundreds of sweets and goodies along the way. Cakes and cookies, doughnuts and pies, eclairs and cupcakes, all these and more were waiting for her. Thankfully, there was a plastic barrier between them and her, so the young detective was impeded from consuming them. Knowing the Fool though, this would not last.

"As you can see, my chubby companion, this is your next test: the Hunger Hall. To pass, all you have to do is get to the end of the hallway and go through the door. There's not even a pie on the other side this time, cross my heart," the speakers crackled as the Fool explained the rules.

"What's the catch?" asked Winggirl.

"Notice how there is an absolutely intoxicating aroma in the air? Notice how the goodies are trapped behind a wall? I'm giving you a sample of the scent, and when I open the walls, you're going to be hit with the full effect. Assuming you can withstand the pull of the sweets, you're free to move on. If not, well, I don't need to explain it to you: you'll swell up like a balloon," the Fool cackled.

"Judging by your performance in the last room and how much frosting you ate, I'd say you're topping out around one-sixty right now, maybe one-seventy. I did some test runs on this stuff before you arrived and I got a supermodel up to three hundred by the time she finished eating. Good luck!"

Winggirl grimaced. She already felt like she weighed a ton; she had no idea what it would be like to weigh three hundred pounds. And Ultragirl was weighing in at six hundred when she arrived, and thinking about what the naive defender had become made the detective's head spin. The heroine slapped herself instead, for she needed to focus on the task at hand.


At the Fool's command, the walls around the shelves slid into the floor and ceiling. It felt like a massive wave hitting Winggirl, the smell of the sweets was so powerful. She struggled just to keep herself on her feet, but even then she had to steady herself by grabbing onto a shelf. A glance to her right revealed she was holding onto a basket containing double chocolate chip muffins. Her stomach began to growl up a storm as she gazed at the muffins like they were her new love. All she could think about was eating every last muffin on the rack, right down to the very last chocolaty crumb.

"Fight it, Brenda, fight it!" she whispered to herself as she let go of the rack. As she did, her stomach let out an angry growl in protest of denied sweets.

"Oh, did I forget to mention?" asked the Fool. "The chemicals I used to make these delectable delights oh-so-fattening made them so they released an odor that stimulates hunger and appetite. Ain't it grand that we live in a world where science makes no sense?"

Winggirl paid no attention to the joker, focusing instead on how to make it to the end of the hall with crippling hunger. In just a matter of seconds, her hunger had gotten so great, so powerful that it made her delirious. The hallway seemed to stretch on forever and ever, and every step she took pushed it back another mile or so. There was no end in sight; all she could see was endless rows of baked goods.

As she lurched forward, Winggirl toppled over and reached out her left hand for support. Her hand landed in something soft and squishy, and when she pulled it out, she discovered it to be a small pumpkin pie no bigger than her palm. The scent of pumpkin and spices brought her back to before her life as a vigilante, when she lived with her father, the chief of police, and her mother. It reminded her of the Thanksgiving dinners she used to have with her whole family, back before her mother left her father and she found comfort by becoming a superhero. The nostalgia came together with the incredible hunger and before she knew it, Winggirl was gobbling down pie after pie.

She felt the cool, smooth pumpkin cream slide down her throat and she relished in the light, flaky crust of the pies. It made her so happy, so content to sit on the linoleum floor and eat to her heart's delight. Before she knew it, she was reaching her hand into an empty wire basket.

"No more?" she asked, a soft whine to her voice.

"No mowe buwwets," the Fool laughed. "But if you're still hungry, and I know you are, try the chocolate chip cookies. They're to die for!"

Winggirl searched desperately for the cookies in the seemingly infinite shelves, and when she found them, she began to double-fist the tiny treats. The cookies were no bigger than the mass-produced kind, so there were plenty to fill the box. Soon, eating them two at a time was not fast enough, and Winggirl began to eat them by the handful. Crumbs and chocolate chips flew everywhere; the captive detective did not care. All she cared about was eating to her heart's desire, filling herself with all the things she had declined for years now.

"Why don't you go for the eclairs? They're sinfully rich," the devilish prankster teased over the intercom. "They're so creamy and so very, very soft and buttery."

"That does sound good," Winggirl mumbled in a daze, wandering over to the basket of eclairs. She tore into them like a rabid dog, covering herself in even more icing and cream. All the while, the Fool laughed and laughed at her predicament.

"Look at you go!" she cheered. "There's no stopping you now! Nothing can satisfy you but sweets, sweets, and more sweets; you're nothing but an eating machine. What would they say if your Arcane friends saw you now? Wingman would surely fire you, and I know for a fact that Pup would stop taking your *** out to the movies. Wingwoman would get an absolute hoot out of you filling yourself to the brim with cookies and sweets. All the villains would point and laugh if you tried to save the day as you are now. No one would take you seriously anymore, but you don't even care, do you?"

Indeed, Winggirl cared for nothing but filling the insatiable hunger in her stomach. While the Fool had been gloating, she had finished the eclairs and moved on to some coconut pies in the tray next to her. She had no threat to make, no growl at the Fool; she only moaned at the orgasmic joy of her new-found gluttony.

"You can't hear me, can you? If I were to play Ultragirl's pleas to you, you wouldn't hear them at all. What would happen if I showed you a picture of her right now, hmm? Why don't we check in on her and see how our piglet's doing."

A video screen turned on just above the exit, but Winggirl paid no mind to it. The grunts and groans of pain and frustration coming from Ultragirl were muffled by the screams of joy inside her own head. It was like Winggirl had released her inner child and let her loose inside a candy shop. There was a little voice telling her to try this and try that and oh but that looks good and have some of those and try these and on and on and on. The voice could not be stopped. It could not be silenced. It had become everything she was.

And then it all came to a stop.

Winggirl collapsed to the ground and groaned as she rubbed her impossibly full belly. She had managed to eat nearly all the food in the hallway, leaving mere crumbs and bits all over the floor. There were no taunts from the Fool, no muffled pleas from Ultragirl, just Winggirl and her occasional groan, hiccup, or belch.

"I really did it this time," the detective thought to herself as she rubbed the great expanse of her belly. Sanity was returning to her addled mind and she began to feel the fabric of her gloves on bare flesh. "I must be a thousand pounds by now, or maybe even a ton. God, I wonder if I can even get up now; it feels like I'm pinned to the floor."

A slow clap came from the speakers. "Bravo, my fat dear, bravo. You managed to eat everything on your plate. I'm so proud of you, Binge-girl, so very, very proud."

Winggirl stifled a belch in reply, earning a snicker from the Fool. "Tell me, do you want to know a secret? Don't answer right away, if you can, because I'm going to tell you anyway. Are you ready? You're never going to believe this: those were just normal baked goods you just ate; I was just filtering in some revamped Boogieman fright gas."

As the Fool prattled on, the clouds in Winggirl's mind became clear and she realized just why she felt such a great expanse in front of her. Her stomach was enormous, easily the size of an overstuffed beanbag chair. No other part of her had grown, just her gut. It trapped her on the floor, weighed down as it was by so many sweets and treats. All she could do was sit and rub her incredible belly to alleviate the onset of soreness and fullness.

"I do love how this is working out so far," the Fool chortled on. "All that time spent with crazies out in Arcane City, all those times you've been captured by the Boogieman or the March Hare and you wind up mind-breaking because of something I cobbled together. Oh, this is a glorious day indeed. Tell you what, I'm in such a good mood that I'll let you two blimps take a breather. Binge-girl, you just go ahead and take a snooze and I'll shut off the feeding machine for a little while. How does that sound?"

"Don't...don't lie to me," Winggirl told the Fool. She struggled to her feet, pushing with all her might on the shelves to lift herself off the floor. "I am done being made a fool of by you, and when I get my hands on you, I am going to make you hurt."

"I'm so scared. What're you going to do, sit on me?"

"I'm considering it," Winggirl retorted as she moved on, blocking the next pie behind the door with her cape.


womble/leprechaun hybrid!
Nov 22, 2007
love it! 60's superhero flare, love the situation, Well written, and just a fun story.

is it awfully wrong for me to be rooting, ever so slightly, for The Fool. and also kind of hoping a wonder-woman-like-hero (I don't know, call her the Athenian or something) to turn up and get pied...


Well-Known Member
Jan 1, 2013
I'm glad everyone is enjoying it so far! And if rooting for the Fool is wrong, IrishBard, then I don't want to be right.

Part 5: The Sinister, Sinking Scales
In which our heroine finds herself forced to play a fattening game and an old enemy makes an appearance!

The room beyond the pantry was pitch black, and even if she was not dazed from eating an entire bakery's stock, Winggirl would not have been able to see through it. All she could hear was the gentle whirring and clicking of gears, a noise she was fast growing to hate. She rubbed her eyes and tried to focus into the room in order to spot the next trap, but she was more focused on the impossibly large gut she now possessed.

Looking down at it again only reminded the poor detective of just how painfully full she was. Her bloated belly stuck out unbelievably far from her body, enough so that blue veins began to bulge from the flesh and her skin took on a sheen. It felt like she was a balloon, and the slightest movement would make her pop. She desperately needed for the next obstacle to not be a repeat of the kitchen; there was no way she could run in her condition. As if reading her captive's mind, the Fool spoke up over the intercom.

"You're probably thinking to yourself, 'Boy, the Fool sure got me good with that last room. I can't possibly do anything physical for at least three days!' Well, you don't have to worry about that; Orla Loonie has got you covered. For this next part, you just have to do what you heroes do best: suck," the malicious woman sneered.

Suddenly, the lights burst on in the room, revealing the source of the whirring and clicking. In the center of the room, straight ahead of Winggirl, was a massive golden scale that stood as tall as a storage crate and wide as one too. Both plates looked like it could hold a small car with ease, and they were both suspended by steel wires. The floor of the room was covered in a mat, where the sickeningly sweet smell seeped out from; it looked like she would have to avoid the floor again. Across the way, next to the other plate, was a platform leading to the next room.

"Now, I figured you were getting lonely by now, so I've brought in someone to keep you company. Let's give her a big welcome, shall we?"

The Fool clapped as the ceiling opened up and lowered a seated figure down onto the opposite golden plate. Whoever it was, they were dressed in an old-fashioned gown and bonnet, and they were absolutely massive. When the figure bobbed their head up, Winggirl knew right away who it was. She had put on a couple hundred pounds, but there was no hiding that curly red hair or those blushed cheeks. Seated across from Winggirl was the Dollmaker, the Fool's old partner in crime.

"What happened to her? Fool, what did you do to her?" Winggirl asked the intercom.

"I was awfully lonely when Winnie decided to up and quit the criminal business. 'We've got no business fighting men that can reverse time by flying around the world,' she said, 'We should cut our ties and run while we still can.' It was no fun being a one-woman show, and after I got over being sad, I started being mad. How dare she leave me all alone?! After every good thing I did for her, after every heist we pulled, she thought she could just walk away and end it like THAT?!" shrieked the Fool.

Winggirl and the Dollmaker both stared in shock at the intercom. They heard their captor take some deep breaths before coming back to the microphone. "So I decided I would put the team back together whether she wanted to or not. I needed someone to test out the chemicals I got from Mexlor, and I was still pissed enough to use them on Winnie here. As you can see, they worked rather nicely, so now I've been saving her for your arrival."

Winggirl looked over the captured Dollmaker. Her dress, made to look like a Raggedy Ann's, was normally flowing and poofy; now it was stretched to the very limits on the poor woman. Her pale face, dotted with red on her cheeks and lips, was as round as the squish balls she used to make. This blob of a woman was enormous, and Winggirl feared that her weight had something to do with the next task.

"As you noticed, there is a scale here, one plate for you and the other for Dolly. Dolly here currently weighs about three hundred and fifty pounds, or roundabouts, and guess what you've got to do?" asked the Fool, a sneer in her voice.

"Match the weight," Winggirl grumbled.

"Correct! You've got to match up to Dolly's three-fifty, and once you are roughly the same weight, the door will open up, the scale will swing around, and you'll be free to go. Assuming you can walk, of course."

Winggirl tentatively stepped out onto the platform, which was no small feat with her engorged gut. Normally, she was capable of leaping from rooftop to rooftop, running at the speed of professional athletes; now, she could barely muster a waddle. As soon as she was out of here, she was going to use all of Drew Tayne's equipment to get back into shape.

"Comfy? No? Well, I don't especially care one way or the other. It's time for you to weigh in, porky, and see how you compare with Dolly," the Fool taunted.

An LED-screen across Winggirl flashed in blinking red, "199", and her eyes shot wide open. In the span of just a few hours, she had managed to put on nearly twice her body weight; half of it alone came from the massive food baby she was nursing. The Fool let out a slow whistle and accompanying clap.

"Not too shabby, not too shabby," she mocked. "I'm rather glad you're cognizant for this; I'd hate for you to cross into two hundred pounds without knowing it. So let's see how far we can get it with this stage."

Down from the ceiling descended a long, plastic tube with a metal ring on the opening. The tube was as big around as a soda can, and Winggirl could not see what it was connected to; all she knew was that it was nothing good.

"Put the tube in your mouth, Winggirl, and we can get the show on the road," the Fool ordered.

"And if I refuse?" the vigilante retorted.

The floor mat suddenly withdrew into the wall, revealing a pool of water underneath. It was no ordinary pool though; Winggirl could smell the crackling ozone emanating from it and knew it was electrified. Her plate suddenly shifted and shot six feet up until she was high above the surface of the water. The sudden descent sent Winggirl to her knees, where she cradled her aching belly.

"Taking a page from the Flamingo's book, I've got a pool of electrified water beneath you and Dolly. The current's strong enough to kill a grown yak, so you two wouldn't stand a chance. If you don't participate, you're going to learn all about hydroelectric energy firsthand. Got that?" the Fool asked, a smirking tease to her voice.

"I've got it," the captive detective replied. She took the tube and worked it into her mouth until it was nice and snug. The Fool was cackling, no doubt thinking of dirty jokes, but Winggirl cared not for how she looked; all she cared about was getting on with her rescue.

"Got it in there? Because you're going to love this next part."

Metal clamps reached out from the ring around the tube and gripped the inside of Winggirl's mouth. The detective yanked at the tube but it did not budge; it was stuck in there as long as the Fool wanted. As she worked to get the tube out, she heard more gears turning and in just a few seconds, a stream of dark liquid came pouring down the tube. Once it hit her tongue, Winggirl realized just what it was: dark chocolate syrup. It was so bittersweet, she was not sure if she wanted to moan in delight or disgust.

"Looks like the lady likes it!" the Fool announced. "But will she like what it does to her figure?"

Just a little bit of the syrup was enough to fatten Winggirl even more. She watched in horror as her dome-like belly softened into so much blubber, her breasts expanded until they were like grapefruits, and she reached behind her to find that her hips and rear were growing to the point of overflowing most chairs. Her costume was not built for such a large physique, and it began to burst and break apart, letting loose gobs of flesh and fat. She felt like a sausage bursting out of its casing, but she felt powerless to stop the flow of the syrup. There was no way for her to go on without using one of her tools and worsening Ultragirl's punishment.

And then a thought hit her: what would Wingman do? Her mentor had been in many a tight situation before, especially one where he had to choose between saving himself or someone else, and he always chose to risk another's life. Why did he do this? Because if he was incapacitated, the captive might as well be dead too. Winggirl could not rescue Ultragirl from becoming a blob of fat if she herself was one as well.

Reaching a beefy hand down to her belt, she fumbled with her wingarang pouch until she had one in her hand. The idea that even her fingers were getting fat was too much for Winggirl, and she acted swiftly to avoid getting any bigger. She took her blade and in one quick motion, slashed it through the tube, cutting her off from any more chocolate. Instead, the syrup ran off into the plate and began to fill the dish.

When the chocolate poured out, the numbers began to rise even more. 250...260...270...280...290...300! Once the scale hit that magic number, Winggirl tore a piece of her cape off and covered the tube in order to block off the flow. She felt the scales lurch and turn until she found herself on the other side of the room. The Dollmaker, apparently still sedated, just lolled back and forth in her chair.

"No fair! Didn't I say you can't use your weapons?" the Fool whined. "That's it; you just earned Ultragirl another few dozen pies."

"Better on her than me," Winggirl grimaced as she hopped off the scale. When she landed, more seams popped on her costume while she buckled over and began to gag. In all the fattening, she had forgotten how stuffed she was; that painful fullness was still there, just buried underneath dozens of pounds of fat.

"I've got to talk to Wingman about an adjustable utility belt," the heroine murmured, punching the pie behind the door.


Well-Known Member
Jan 1, 2013
Part 6: The Fun House In The Kitchen
In which our heroine reaches the end, or does she?

Like the previous room, the one Winggirl had moved to was pitch black and silent save for the sound of whirring machinery. She trained her eyes around the darkness, hoping to get a glimpse of what was inside, when a light suddenly burst on far ahead of her. Underneath the light was Ultragirl or what Winggirl assumed to be Ultragirl.

The figure overlapping the chair was absolutely enormous. Two large sacks of meat the size of Christmas hams were perched atop a belly that could have passed for a weather balloon. What little she could see of the girl's legs seemed to indicate they were as thick around as truck tires.

A steady stream of pies rolled down into a globular face that was forced to chew on the sweets. Bits and pieces of the pies were stuck in the poor girl's hair and covered her clothes, but even with all that there was no mistaking the stretched-out 'U' symbol on the chest. The blob in front of Winggirl was Ultragirl in all her immense glory.

"She's grown quite nicely, don't you think?" asked the Fool.

The comparison between the captive heroine and villainess could not have been greater. The Fool was rail thin and clean as a whistle; not a single bit of gunk lay on her green suit. She ran a gloved hand through her short brown hair and readjusted her coat collar before addressing Winggirl again.

"After taking your sweet time getting here and thanks to all those tricks with your toys, Ultra-blimp is almost seven hundred pounds. You did your best to catch up to her, plumping up to two-fifty, but she's got quite the lead on you. You'll have to do better if you want to beat this piglet, Bingegirl," the slim prankster cackled.

The blubbery heroine said nothing as she took some tentative steps forward into the room. After everything she had been through, the last thing she needed was to step into a trap. As she walked though, she began to notice something funny about the image in front of her. Something about the way the light shined was wrong somehow. She needed to test this trick, and so Winggirl reached for a wingarang and hurled the blade towards the Fool. Sure enough, the blade collided with a mirror and the reflected image of the Fool and her captive shattered into pieces.

"Now that was rude," the villainess chided. "Do you know how much a mirror costs these days?"

"Where are you, Fool?! Show yourself!" Winggirl shouted. She was fed up with these constant setbacks.

"Why would I tell you that? I'd much rather see you squirm. See if you can find us, Winggirl, before Ultragirl gets too big for my chair. Oh, and because I'm such a good sport, there's no traps in this room. Your body is safe for now," the Fool cackled.

Winggirl withdrew her flashlight and shined the light all around her. There were mirrors everywhere in the darkness, and the ones that did not show the ballooning Ultragirl revealed Winggirl's fattened form. There seemed to be no way out of the maze of mirrors, but that did not stop the detective from trying.

With one hand holding her light and the other on a mirror, the young heroine began to make her way through the room. She made mental notes of each turn she came across, every time she had to stop and turn around, but it never seemed to get her anywhere. The maze was hopelessly confusing and perplexing, and with the burdensome food baby weighing her down, it was not long before Winggirl needed to stop and rest. The vigilante leaned up against a mirror and took some deep breaths to regain her composure.

"Having to stop already? My, someone's out of shape," the Fool snickered.

Winggirl said nothing as she straightened up and twisted her back. The movement of her belly and the strain from her stretching caused more of her costume to come apart at the seam. Now the purple bird symbol on her chest was coming apart, releasing gobs of pale flesh from underneath. Winggirl cursed herself and returned to the task at hand.

"I have to commend you for getting as far as you have without cracking completely," said the far-off Fool. "I figured you were done for after your show in the pantry, but you sure proved me wrong. Give yourself a pat of the back fat, Binge-girl, for being such a contender."

When the bloated heroine ignored her, the Fool stamped her foot in a huff. "See, this is why I hate having to deal with you Wing-dings: you never want to banter. Maybe I should have called Sensation Girl or Aquamaiden; they'd be good sports. They'd only do as well as you, maybe worse, but it would still be fun to banter along with them."

"Oh, I can banter," Winggirl retorted. "I just prefer to do it with someone who's better at it."

"Oh-ho-ho, so she can get snarky when she wants," the menacing mistress cackled. "I guess your bark might just be as good as your bite."

The Fool prattled on for a while longer but Winggirl paid her no mind. It was no different from a hostage situation in Arcane City: all she had to do was focus on the task at hand and get out. Still, her cumbersome belly and far-too-tight costume kept her from getting through the maze any faster.

"You know what we need right now? Some shape-changing mirrors: all the fun houses worth their snuff have them. Why don't we take a look at you?" asked the Fool.

The mirrors around Winggirl suddenly flipped around, revealing an image of her when she was still thin. It was hard to believe she walked into the bakery not a few hours ago weighing more than a hundred pounds less, but there was the proof. The young vigilante felt a twinge of jealousy at her thinner self.

"And here we see Winggirl and--wait a minute, that's not Winggirl! The Winggirl I know isn't that thin, she's much bigger than that. Must be some silly cosplayer. Let's try something else."

The mirrors flipped again and now displayed the detective during her debacle in the kitchen. She was covered with chocolate icing and now substantially pudgier than in the first image. Still, this was a far cry from what she now resembled.

"This looks a little better; she does definitely have a good foundation for the part. Still not big enough though."

The mirrors flipped again and showed Winggirl after she had consumed all the food in the pantry. Her belly, which could have easily fit her entire body inside it, was weighing her down to the floor. It tore through the front of her costume has if it were made out of paper.

"This is more like it," the Fool remarked. "This girl has got the gut of Winggirl, but she's still not quite there. What's next?"

The next reflection was of Winggirl at that very moment. There was no muscle definition to her body, no trace of athleticism. Now there was only fat, so much fat that she was bursting out of her costume. Her tight black pants were breaking down the side, seams were splitting down her beefy arms, and even her mask was being filled with her fattened face. She no longer looked like herself; she was a bloated, cartoon parody of Winggirl.

"That's more like the Winggirl I know! Breasts bigger than her head, a butt the size of a beach ball, legs as thick as tree trunks, and a belly that could fit a grown man inside it. Truly, this is our heroine," the Fool taunted.

Winggirl glared at the reflection and moved on; she would not allow herself to wallow in self-pity over her predicament. The Fool was not going to let her get off so easily, however, and she continued to harangue the poor detective all the way through the maze.

"Yep, just look at you. Bursting out of your costume; looks like that birdie on your chest had his wing clipped. I think you're even getting too fat for your cowl, which is mighty impressive if you ask me. Still though, one has to wonder how big you could truly get if you stayed in my little bakery wonderland for too long. Wanna find out?"

The mirrors rotated again and Winggirl became surrounded by immense versions of herself, all with varying body types. One had her continuing to grow in the belly till it dragged on the floor; another had her with breasts pinning her to the ground; still another showed her with a rear end so monstrous and legs so thick that walking was virtually impossible. It did not bode well for her that each reflection wound up with her being immobile, and that only pressured her to move faster and find her way out of the room.

"You know, I changed my mind: I am going to make you fatter now. I've got a little test for you," the Fool chuckled.

Suddenly, the whole room was filled with the delicious and scintillating scent of freshly baked goods. It was so potent, Winggirl could already taste them on her lips. As she fought to keep herself from succumbing to the pleasant aroma, she found that the scent was coming from one single direction.

"You know how if you place a rat in a maze and you place cheese at the end, the rat will find his way through by eating the cheese. That's what I'm hoping happens here, only instead of cheese, I have cheesecake. There are two doors out of this room: one will take you to Ultra-pig and the other will take you to a room filled with the bestest cheesecake in the world. You find Ultragirl, congratulations, you win; if you go to the cheesecake room, I'll lock you inside and leave you to your own devices. Your call, Binge-girl," the Fool taunted.

Winggirl swooned at the thought of delicious and rich cheesecake until she slapped herself in the stomach. The sharp pain from her fullness brought her out of her trance and reminded her of what she set out to do. She continued to follow the mirrors, keeping very close to the notes she took. If she turned here and banked the corner there, circle around there and weave right here; all these directions fought with the sweetly scent for control of her brain. Finally, Winggirl found herself without any mirrors to follow and a door in front of her.

The scent of goodies was strong behind the door, stronger than anywhere else. Winggirl gently opened the door and...


Well-Known Member
Jan 1, 2013
Part 7: Battle Of The Bulge
In which our heroine comes face to face and engages in fisticuffs with the fiendish Fool!

Behind the door lay not the morbidly obese Ultragirl but a wall of cheesecakes reaching all the way across the room and stretching from floor to ceiling. The soft, moist delicacies beckoned to the downtrodden Winggirl, who felt like she was about to cry. She was so sure she had been right in her decision, so positive that this was the room that led to Ultragirl and her salvation. Instead, she found herself surrounded by her argonite, her one true weakness. The Fool had played her once again.

Speak of the devil, the prankster began to cackle over the intercom again. "Looks like someone was leading with her stomach, eh? Can't really blame ya, Winggie, because these cakes are my finest creations yet. All those chemicals that made you so fat so fast? I added extra to these babies, so soon as you start chowing down, that costume's going to burst right off. I don't think you'll care, given your performance in the pantry."

Winggirl groaned, her throbbing stomach reminding her of the massive binge not so long ago. For once though, she was thankful for the pain; it kept her mind focused on something besides the cheesecakes.

"You should just give in and eat," the Fool taunted. "You're a natural at it. All those years of training with Wingman when what you really wanted to do was let go and enjoy yourself. So go on: eat it up! No one's stopping you."

As she grappled with her mind, struggling to choose between leaving and eating, Winggirl noticed something strange about the cakes. They were all wedged close together, almost to the point that they were a solid mass of cream cheese, but there were cracks here and there. In between those cracks was a soft blue light, nearly undetectable under the overhead lights. Where else would there be blue light in this twisted bakery but Ultragirl's room?

With her mind cleared, Winggirl waddled over to the wall of cheesecakes, a feat which left her struggling for breath. She cursed her newly gained weakness as she withdrew a small gun-like instrument from her belt. When she pulled the trigger, a white foam squirted out onto the cakes. Winggirl made a rough 'W' with the foam and repeated the process three times before stepping back towards the door. She quickly wrapped her cape around her and pulled the trigger on the gun.

Suddenly, the cheesecakes exploded in a mass of sticky mush, destroyed by Winggirl's explosive gel. The explosion tore through the soft deserts and left a gaping hole in the wall, revealing the source of the blue light. Several spotlights shined on a recliner, their lights replaced with argonite bulbs. In the chair was Ultragirl, who had gotten impossibly larger since Winggirl had last seen her.

Once a stick-like waif, Ultragirl had grown so rotund that she now resembled a ball. Her head was near spherical from all the fat pooled around her face. Breasts that had once been the envy of women everywhere had grown so large that they could have fit a whole person inside. Her colossal rear end now spilled over the broken recliner, tapering down to legs as big around as truck tires. At the center of this mass was a belly big enough to contain a small car. Were it not for the tattered remains of her costume and the mop of blond hair at the top of the blob, Winggirl would never have recognized Ultragirl as something living.

"Like my handiwork?" ask the Fool, stepping out of the shadows. She had an ear-splitting grin plastered on her angular face. "Since I had to make some room for all those cheesecakes, I had to find a new way to feed the pig. I still had some tubes left over from the weighing room, so I decided to pump chocolate cream into Ultrablimp."

The pie machine was gone, replaced now by a large vat and a plastic tube connected to Ultragirl's fat face. The Fool sauntered over and squished the heroine's face, causing cream to ooze out of the corners of her mouth.

"I could hook you up with one of these, you know," the cackling prankster told Winggirl. "You could have all the cream you could want and you could get fatter and fatter and fatter."

"I'll pass," Winggirl huffed as she slowly made her way across the room. She could not be stopped when her goal was so close.

"Have it your way," the trickster laughed as she pranced towards Winggirl.

When the Fool drew close to the bloated detective, she began to poke and prod at her fattened form. Winggirl, tired from the events of the day and the long walk towards Ultragirl, could only swat at the teasing trickster. The Fool was quick to move away from the vigilante, but she always returned to pinch an inch of fat on the heroine.

"Hard to believe you walked in here with an Olympic-level bod," the prankster giggled as she poked Winggirl's flabby arms. "You're going to want to up your workout routine after today."

Winggirl took another long, slow swat at her tormentor, but the Fool was too quick. She ducked around the girl detective and slapped her bulbous rear. "Shame you'd lose such a juicy tush though. It looks like a plump apple, mmm-mm!"

She hopped around in front of Winggirl and began to rub her distended orb of a belly. "But this just takes the cake, literally! You packed so many of my goodies into your tummy, I don't think you could stand another bite. We should test that out, don't you think? How about I whip you up some cookies?"

"Enough!" Winggirl roared as she shook the Fool loose. With her stomach being too far to reach with her hands, she was forced to wiggle her way out of the villain's clutches.

"Aw, someone in a bad mood? A little ice cream could help with that," the Fool taunted.

Winggirl snarled at the green-clad creep. "I have been dealing with your perverted jokes all day and I am fed up with them. Either shut up and get out of my way or I will crush you like the worm you are."

"Big words coming from someone who's having trouble walking a hundred feet," quipped the prankster. "But sure, let's try and finish this on a high note. Put up your dukes, girly, because it's time to wrassle!"

The Fool raised her fists and pranced around like a boxer while Winggirl spread her legs as much as she could and readied her own fists. She had to focus now more than ever because as much as she tried to be threatening, there was no way she could handle a long fight in her condition. If this dragged on, she had no chance of winning.

"Here I come!" the Fool exclaimed as she made a quick jab at Winggirl. The heroine moved to protect her side, but the prankster duped her and punched her in the gut.

Winggirl gasped for air, pain flowing through her entire body. She steadied herself again, but the Fool returned again and punched her left breast. In trying to grab at the prancing prankster, she only touched air. The Fool had danced around behind her and, in a heartbeat, pounced on the heroine.

"Ride 'em, cowboys!" she whooped as she wrapped her legs and arms around the detective. Her arms reached around and squeezed Winggirl's neck, choking the life out of her. "Moo and I'll let you go, Binge-girl."

"Not...on...your...life!" Winggirl wheezed.

With a quick, mighty heave, she threw the prankster from her body. The Fool toppled to the floor and crashed into one of the argonite lights. When she lifted herself from the floor, Winggirl was already charging towards her, using gravity and momentum to keep her massive body moving. Before the Fool could dive to the side, Winggirl trampled into her and forced her into another light.

"Had enough, skinny?" Winggirl taunted in between gasps for air.

"There's that Wingman-style taunting," the injured Fool sneered. "But it's going to take a little more than that to rattle me. I've gone toe to toe with Ultraman."

"When he was under blue argonite."

"A win is a win, my fat, little dear!"

Winggirl charged forward at the toppled Fool, but the prankster was ready. When the obese heroine neared, she slid to the side and stuck her leg out into her path. The detective went stumbling and tried to right her wobbling body but to no avail. She hit the hard tile floor and landed on her chubby leg wrong; the crack could be felt through her whole body.

"That looked like it really hurt," the Fool laughed. "I daresay you've broken something, Porky. Your femur, maybe, or your tibia; I'm no doctor."

It definitely felt like a broken bone in her leg. Add in the pain of the rough landing on her stomach and Winggirl was crippled with pain. This left her open to more jabs from the Fool, who danced over and gave a few quick, light kicks to her bulbous gut.

"Look at you! You can't stand, can't even move with all that weight pinning you down! And this gut of yours is just a balloon waiting to pop, so let's tear you open!" she screeched in manic glee as she kicked at the fallen heroine.

In spite of her pain, Winggirl knew something was wrong. The Fool was never this vicious, never so cruel in her attacks. She was fast becoming like the Clown or Merry Andrew, crazed and violent. If she hoped to survive this alive, she needed to stop her assailant quick.

To that end, she focused all her concentration off her pain and onto her surroundings. When the Fool came in for another kick, Winggirl reached out, grabbed her foot and tugged. The Fool went toppling to the floor again, and this time the detective pulled her over so that she could roll over until she was lying on top of the villain.

"Get off, you heifer! Get off me!" she screamed.

"Tell me why you'd go this far for a prank, Orla! Why torture Ultragirl and Dollmaker like this! Who are you working for?!" Winggirl demanded.

A mist appeared in the Fool's eyes as she seemed to look beyond Winggirl. "It was the Omega Feast. She showed me the greatest feast and told me I would never go hungry again."

When she went quiet, Winggirl rolled to the side. She was puzzled about what the fiend said. What was the Omega Feast? Some new villain? Was it a sign of something to come?


Well-Known Member
Jan 1, 2013
Part 8: The Fat-ful Conclusion
In which our story comes to an end!

Once she was certain the Fool was unconscious, Winggirl turned her attention to Ultragirl, who was still consuming gallon upon gallon of chocolate cream. One wingarang was enough to tear through the plastic tube feeding the poor girl though, and when the flow of cream stopped, the heroine was able to spit out the rest of the tube in her mouth.

"Brenda!" she exclaimed, her voice so high for such a mammoth body. "I knew you could do it! You're too good to lose to the likes of her!"

"That makes one of us," Winggirl grunted as she pulled more blades from her belt. She took aim at the remaining argonite bulbs and smashed them all with pinpoint accuracy.

With their blue rays gone, Ultragirl felt stronger right away, strong enough to lift her incredibly obese body from the wreckage of her chair. She took slow, short steps to Winggirl, and when she reached her injured friend, she could not even bend over to help her. Being so close but still unable to help brought tears to the blubbery girl's eyes.

"No, Mara, no," Winggirl sighed. She hated seeing Ultragirl cry, partly because she could cry enough to fill a lake if time permitted. "Look, I know that the Fool went crazy, but we can fix you up real easy."

"N-Not that," the Maiden of Might sobbed. "I'm crying b-b-because it's my fault you wound up like this! I'm so sorry, Brenda!"

Winggirl rolled her eyes but smiled all the same. There was that honest selflessness again, and as much as it drove her crazy sometimes, she had to admit it was sweet. That she cared more about what happened to her friends than herself proved that there might have been hope for Ultragirl yet.

"It's all right, Mara; I've had worse before," Winggirl lied. "But really, this is exactly why your cousin told you to never take candy from strangers."

Ultragirl choked back her tears and wiped her rounded cheeks. She knew that she was not Winggirl's favorite person, but for her to come out and risk herself for her overwhelmed her.

"Let me fly you back to Arcane City and we'll get Archibald to patch you up right-quick," Ultragirl offered. "Let me just--hrngh--pick you up and we can--rrgh--go!"

"Mara, you're not going to be able to pick me up if you can't even reach around your own stomach. Just go fly for help and get Ultraman here or someone else," Winggirl told her friend.

"Wait, I've got an idea!"

The incredible blob disappeared in a blur of red and blue that sped all over the room. Winggirl tried to keep up but there was no way for even her sharp eyes to follow the speeding Ultragirl. She was simply too fast for anyone outside of the Dash to see. Although she could not see her, Winggirl could still make out noises from the blur, including groans and many utterances of "Come on!"

The floor vigilante wondered just what was going on, but before she could ask, the blur came to a halt and Ultragirl stood before her.

In the span of just a moment or so, Ultragirl had shed hundreds of pounds and returned to her lithe self. Where once there were rolls and folds of fat, now there was a six-pack of girl abs and toned limbs. She also seemed to have cleaned up; not a speck of cream could be found on her tanned skin, blond hair, or red costume.

"Super-speed exercise?" Winggirl asked.

"Yes, but I also stopped to free the Dollmaker, tie up the Fool, and then disable the traps so that the police won't have any problems when they pick her up. Oh, and a change of clothes and a shower," Ultragirl answered. "Now, how about that ride?"

"Fine," Winggirl groaned, "but try to avoid turbulence if you can."

"Can do!"

Ultragirl leaned down and carefully picked her friend from the floor, making sure to watch her broken leg. It was much more cumbersome than usual, having so much to carry and working around Winggirl's massive belly, but the petite heroine managed it after some doing. A quick burst of heat vision at the ceiling created a sizable hole for the two, and with a sudden burst, the two were flying high into the air. Winggirl wrapped her meaty arms around Ultragirl for support.

"So what do you make of what the Fool said?" the wounded detective asked Ultragirl. "Did she ever mention the Omega Feast around you?"

Ultragirl shook her head. "No, not to my knowledge. She just spent her time grabbing me, calling me names, and watching you from her office. Nothing about a big feast though. Perhaps she was fabricating something in order to save her bacon?"

"Doubtful," Winggirl frowned. "The way she was acting, I've seen that before. Her eyes went blank as if controlled by an outside force; I see this all the time with the Caterpillar and Helga Odd. The Fool was mind-controlled, I feel, but by what?"

"Whatever it is, it did not succeed," Ultragirl smiled. "Mostly."

Winggirl huffed. "This? This is nothing; some extra training and a diet free from baked goods and I'll be back to normal."

"I think it might be longer, given the state of your leg."

"Please, this is nothing."
"I'm afraid they're both bad."

Back in Arcane City and in the sanctity of the Aerie, Wingman's personal butler, Archibald Nickelworth, was tending to Winggirl's broken leg. As X-rays revealed, even the left leg had suffered in the fall and the right was broken in three places. The butler shook his head and looked back at the young detective with an apology in his eyes.

"But they'll heal, right?" Winggirl asked, her voice growing higher than normal.

"In time, yes, but I'm afraid it will be a while. For now though, I have just the solution for your mobility problems," Archibald replied as he went to a locker near the uniform storage.

Ultragirl took her friend's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. This shook Winggirl from the shock of Archie's announcement and she returned with a squeeze of her own. She gave a fake smile to her friend, trying to tell her it would be okay. In reality, the idea that she would be stuck off-duty for much longer than she imagined scared her more than fighting all the freaks in Miskatonic Asylum. How long would it be until she could have her old body back and feel the wind breeze by her as she swung from building to building? How long would it be until she could feel the thrill of fighting mooks in the streets alongside her partners in justice?

The answer came with her new form of mobility. Archie carried a wheelchair over to the medical table and placed it by Winggirl. It was simple, not something befitting of the technologically-advanced Wingman, but she was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth at this point.

"We'll naturally get you a much superior one, Miss Gorman, but this is what we have for now," Archie told Winggirl. "The master uses this from time to time when he has a particularly rough night, and it should serve as a temporary instrument for you."

Winggirl studied the chair and asked, "Are you sure it will fit?"

"I can fix that," Ultragirl offered. She walked over to the chair and plucked the handle from the seat, allowing Winggirl's rotund rear to fit the seat.

"Thank you, Mara," the vigilante groaned as she eased herself into the chair. When the task proved more difficult than imagined, Ultragirl and Archie helped to steady her and place her on the seat. Her expanded hips and rear completely filled the seat, a fact which did not go unnoticed by its occupant.

"Now, I shall go make the necessary preparations to have you transferred to Arcane General, along with an alibi and a change of clothes. If you two would wait down here, I shall return soon," Archie excused himself as he walked to the elevator that led to the manor above.

When he left, Ultragirl turned to her friend and said, "Brenda, I'm so--"

"Save it," Winggirl interrupted her companion. "I'm loaded up on painkillers right now, so please do not bring down my surprisingly good mood with more apologies. For now, let's just relax and enjoy the fact that we put another loony away."

"Yeah, I guess so," Ultragirl softly chuckled. "Do you, ah, do you think that we could have that 'girl's weekend' after all?"

"That sounds like it would be a great distraction," Winggirl answered. "I don't suppose you'd mind having it here?"

"Not at all!"

Ultragirl clapped her hands and gave her soft friend a hug. Maybe this incident had changed her for the best; now Winggirl could take a break from her hectic life. What she did not know was that Brenda Gorman had no intention of dropping out of the hero game because of broken legs. She needed to research the Omega Feast, and now that she was grounded, she could work from the Aerie and provide some much-needed back-up for the city. She could be an oracle for the Wing Family, a second pair of eyes and ears for them.

'Augury' had a nice ring to it...
And so concludes the first Capes and Cuisines! Our heroines managed to escape the clutches of the Fool, but the threat of the Omega Feast still looms on the horizon. What does its decadent scent mean to the people of Earth? Will our heroes save us from it, or will they succumb to its sinful spell?

Find out in the next installment of Capes and Cuisines! Same fat time, same fat station!

And that's the end of the first "issue"! I'm currently working on the next one, and as I upload it to Fantasy Feeder, I will be sure to upload it here as well. Let me know what you think!