This choice: Harley isn't the only one enjoying an altered reality... • Go Back... This new world that had been created for them, the heads of the Anonymous Corporation, couldn't have been designed more perfectly. With the power of a reality-altering, mind-wiping magician, there was almost no limit to what they could accomplish. In their heyday as Gotham's criminals, nothing short of B-list in any villain's rogues gallery, the world might have been painted into a very different picture.
The childish trimmings of Harley's insanity might have twisted the world into a Saturday morning cartoon show just as easily as it could have been warped into a mundane life free of clowns and crime. Poison Ivy's frightening favoritism and despotic protection of the Green that she communed with would have surely meant the enslavement (if not annihilation altogether) of mankind. Selina's taste for riches and wealth might have made her into the most well-to-do member of Gotham high society. Their goals were so different from one another that a communal living space within a shared, if altered, reality would have been almost impossible.
But now, after succumbing to their innermost desires as the gluttons that they had become, the "ideal world" that Zatanna's magic had created for them was much easier to manage. Between them, there were only three desires:
1.) To not be disturbed
2.) Comfort
and above all else
3.) Pleasure.
To some, like Harley, that meant a steady herd of cattle that she could fatten up as she saw fit. With Renee Montoya filling the (expansive) space of former foreman Jenna Duffy, she would surely be occupied for some time. And then she could move onto the next one. And then the next. Harley Quinn had taken to her position as Efficiency Manager so very well, getting to use her psychology degree to its fullest. It wasn't as fun as swinging around a mallet and busting ATMs, but watching her playthings squirm beneath her was a different, familiar sort of thrill that she enjoyed immensely...
For others, pleasure took on a different connotation...
***
An entire warehouse was devoted to caring for and ensuring the wellbeing of Anonymous' most precious resource—Dr. Pamela Isely.
Once upon a time, after her accident, she had renamed herself Poison Ivy, the green-skinned Gaia who worked tirelessly to defend plant life. But that was the name of a terrorist and, in a sense, she had gone straight. She no longer wanted to consume the world in flora, rather she was contented merely to consume. Endlessly.
Her mutation had been a curious thing in this new reality. After a certain point, she had stopped requiring the rare and exotic flower that she had derived the mind-expanding and highly addictive additive that laced any and all of her company's products. Her unique nature as a human empowered by the Green meant that, the more time she spent around her precious buds, the more like them she became. And these were very curious flowers indeed. Parasitic in nature and highly destructive, in another lifetime, they would have gone extinct. But thanks to the timely intervention of a woman so bent on saving plant-life and looking to get rich quick, they were saved of that fate. And Ivy had been sealed to hers.
Swollen to complete immobility, the great green glutton was helpless to watch as an entire staff buzzed and whirred around her. Swabbing her, wiping her down, and collecting her various fluids for use in the company that she had helped found. All while keeping her fed rather comfortably round the clock of course. Not only was her chemical output firmly rooted in her caloric input, it was a requirement of her further mutation. As she'd grown larger and more like her precious babies, her body had begun metabolizing sugars and fats so differently that, for all intents and purposes, she really was more plant than woman now. And consider just how much woman she was now, that was really saying something.
And while she may not have liked her helpless state, there were a few perks to being viewed as a mindless eating machine...
Margaret Pye couldn't figure out why she kept gaining weight. Lab personnel were prohibited from sampling from what they collected from their source. Even as a lowly janitor, she had been given the same prohibition. The rest of Gotham City might have been blowing up like a bunch of balloons, but Maggie figured that she ought to have been safe!
She had figured wrong.
In the six months that she had been assigned here, busted for another petty larceny and desperate for a job, she'd put on nearly eighty pounds. That was insane. She had been so slender beforehand, so birdy and svelte. To see herself covered in all this... fat made her wretch. No way she was going to go out flying as Magpie any time soon...
"Feeding time, Boss." Maggie managed to say as the hermetical doors shut and sealed behind her, "Same time, same channel."
Though, looking at what had become Pam Isely, the plump pheasant didn't figure that she had much room to complain.
Ivy's green greatness trembled as she squirmed in place. She had grown far too fat to stand or move on her own, but the movements that she made would reverberate for some time in the vastness of her folds. To think that this great big ball of green glob had once been a woman. Maggie shuddered at the thought of ever getting that fat. So big and round that she couldn't fit through the door to her apartment. So fat that all she wanted to do was eat, eat, eat all day...
Her stomach rumbled.
Ivy's forest-green lips slipped into a struggling smirk, her cheeks so swollen that her expression was almost illegible. Beneath her chins and her layers of facial fat, Ivy still very much had a mind. One that was focused on food, yes, but she wasn't so far gone that she had forgotten about her powers. Pheromone control had been one of the first tricks she'd learned after the Accident that had turned her into Poison Ivy the Eco Terrorist, and it had carried her well into her life as Poison Ivy, the living breathing source of Anonymous Industries' most addictive products.
Though more than a ton in weight, Ivy's intellect was by far the most striking thing about her. A pity that people seemed to forget that when faced with her magnanimous massiveness.
"Yum." Isely said in her pretty voice, "Come... come closer..."
She had grown far too fat to feed herself.
And like a sapling quivering in the presence of a mighty oak, Magpie hesitated. Who wouldn't? Ivy was this enormous green... thing. She didn't even look like a woman anymore. Just a giant leaf-colored marshmallow, positively swollen with fat.
Swollen with soft, jiggly, fat...
For someone so bent on the destruction of mankind at one point in her life, Ivy had come to appreciate the touch of a man. Or a woman. Anyone. To feel their fingers against her acres of expanse, to feel them squeeze her incredible girth between their hands. She shook like a leaf, deep within her own hundreds of pounds, and quivered like a lady in waiting. She adored the sensations that only a being of her size could experience.
Ivy watched as Margaret's fear slowly gave way to appreciation—no, adoration for her size. Her beauty. Her eyes glazed and her muscles slacked. One hand extended to trace one stray roll of Ivy's enormous gut as it rose and fell like a great viridian empire.
"Y-Yes boss..." the former criminal gulped as Ivy twisted the chemicals in her brain to that of obedience, "Are you... are you hungry?"
"Always." Ivy purred, watching her prey grow more and more docile. The spores from Ivy's hot breath made their way towards the expanding former criminal's lungs...
Oh she'd have so much fun with this one. Her babies would have a nice time inside little Magpie. Making her grow and grow like a chubby little flower, sending her out into the world full of her spores so she could spread them even further. Just like she'd done with the last girl they'd put on feeding duty. And the one before that, and the one before that...
It may have only been one plant at a time, but Ivy had certainly enjoyed bringing this species back to the world...
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