This choice: Those booming footsteps don't sound good—Harley catches her • Go Back... Ignoring her better instincts, the small hairs on the back of her neck tingling and the sense of dread that loomed over her, Selina kept crouching forward. Slowly, steadily, and with great effort to not make a single sound, the crafty Catwoman eeked her way out of what had been her bedroom for the past week. Her spread wide so as to balance her still-stuffed center of gravity, Selina slowly reached under the door and pulled it to. Just enough so that it would shut. Couldn't have one of Harley's goons see that she'd gotten herself out on one of their routine rounds. With any luck, she'd timed this just right, and she could get on with the rest of her life.
With the soft sound of the lock clicking, Selina breathed a sigh of relief.
"You're up a little early, aintcha Kitty Cat?" Selina's blood ran cold at the sound of her former friend's voice piercing the silent factory floor
Ignoring her wooziness, Selina whipped around to see her captor. She was dressed for bed, if you could call her "dressed" at all. Harley's big white gut rolled untucked from her black pajama bottoms, clogging the hallway with her gargantuan size and whiteness. It hung so low, out in the open like this, crashing against her pillowy thighs and knees. Up top, she'd dressed in a frilly ruffled red tank top that barely managed to cover the bigness of her breasts. Her arms puddled to either side of her as she held a box of pop tarts in one hand, a trail of discarded silver wrappers behind her.
"Up for a midnight snack?" Harley smirked as Catwoman fell flat on her rump, "I know I am."
"Harley..." Selina stuttered, slowly struggling against her turgid gut to bring herself to a standing position, "Think about this. It doesn't have to be this way..."
"Hmmm... lemme think about it." Harley tapped a finger to her blubber-buried chin, "Yeah it does—GUARDS!"
***
"So you're wanting to widen the doorways, huh?"
Jenna Duffy did her best to keep it professional. She'd gotten out of the hench wench game a long time ago, leaving her life as The Carpenter behind so that she could pursue her life's ambition of... well... being a carpenter. Lower-case C and everything. She'd even done her best to avoid some stupid on-the-nose naming convention like Wonderland Carpentry ("prices so good, they're a wonder!") to avoid any undue temptation. She was the one who'd helped Harley refurbish the old factory a while back, and they'd stayed in touch.
"You moving factory equipment through these things?" Jenna did her best to keep her eyes on the clipboard, and not on her client, "Pallets, forklifts, that kind of thing?"
"Yeah, only thing industrial size movin' through these doors is my tuchus." Harley's whole body wobbled with laughter as she slapped her old friend on the back, "Gettin' outta the game does a real number on your figure, huh Jenna?"
"Tell me about it." the Carpenter laughed uneasily, her round cheeks reddening, "It's not easy to keep the calories off once your workout doesn't include running away from a guy with pointy ears in long johns."
Packed tight in a pair of extra large overalls, the belly-built brunette was another victim of "going straight". The swell of her gut was visible in the outline of her denim covers, fat little arms bulging at the sides as she made notations on her clipboard. She had put on a good sixty pounds since she'd hung up over overalls for... another, larger pair of overalls.
"It ain't all bad though." Harley's hand rubbed up and down her stomach, snacking liberally on one of her prepackaged pies that she'd pilfered from the production line, "You want one?"
"I shouldn't..."
"Puh-lease." Harley dismissed, handing her fellow former hench wench a pie, "I insist."
"I'm not letting you pay me in cookies again." Jenna snorted, unwrapping an apple-filled sweet that was admittedly better off the line, "Never again, or you'll have to roll me out of here.
Jenna used her free hand to run her thumb underneath the band of her overalls, pulling them as hard as she could. They were tighter than harp strings, holding her belly up like a hammock. She made a disgruntled, but not unfriendly face at the even fatter philanthropist that had thrown her so much work in the past.
"Jenna, baby, darling, are you implying that I would do something so underhanded as to add a highly addictive chemical to my product as some sort of larger agenda?" Harley snorted, "Because that sounds like something that someone who hadn't gone entirely straight and narrow would do."
"...I... didn't say any of that. But alright." Jenna rolled her eyes, "Weirdo."
Harley cut her eyes at the curvature of the Carpenter's figure. She'd gone and gotten good and fat since the last time Harley had seen her. She'd had her doubts that the comparatively small amount of chemicals in each cookie might not have had a strong effect. But it was clear as day that Jenna had gotten hooked just like Harley wanted. That big belly in that tight little denim number looked so cute and squeezable, it took all of Harley's (relatively lacking) self control not to just snap those straps and get a handful for herself...
"So the second floor will be done in a few days." Jenna said, her mouth full of pie, "You gonna be okay staying in a hotel until then?"
"You kidding? It'll be like a little vacation." Harley waved her hand dismissively, "And the bars on the windows? Extra strength locks?"
"All part of what you paid for." Jenna nodded sagely, taking a swig from her Coke before taking another bite of apple pie, "This place will be impregnable."
"In or out?" Harley raised an eyebrow
"In or out." Jenna smiled, "You're sure you've gone straight?"
"Straight as I ever was. I'm actually thinking about... hrmm... expanding my horizons." Harley purred, resting her hands on her billowing stomach and kneading her fleshy belly folds idly, "New factories, new warehouse facilities, the works... Why don't we head to my office to talk turkey? I'll hook you up with a couple boxes of our new cupcakes. You'll love 'em."
***
After the carpenter formerly known as The Carpenter left (thousands of calories richer and desperately fumbling to undo the latches on her overalls) Harley could rest more easily. Luckily, during her first few trips out when they were originally renovating the factory, Harley had been smart enough to have the upper floor soundproofed. She'd said it was so that she didn't have to hear the machinery whirring, but it also came in handy for certain other reasons. If she'd heard Selina Kyle—Catwoman—stuffing herself stupid at Harley's behest, there was no way she would believe Harley had gone straight.
Last thing she needed was bats in her belfry. Well, literal bats in her belfry. The metaphorical ones kept her company enough.
"So we're gonna have to move you to another part of the factory for a few days." Harley clicked her tongue as she watched Selina stuff herself voraciously, "But somethin' tells me you won't mind that too much, wouldja Kitty Cat?"
Harley had tripled the dosage of Selina's initial pie to the face. The results were impressive—no outward rebellion, no probable cause for worry. All Selina did, all she could do was eat. Just eat and eat and eat. No thoughts of escape, no snarky remarks, only food. For now, anyway. Harley would have to keep a close eye on her.
A very close eye, Harley corrected as a familiar tingle ran through her spine, watching her skinny friend viscerally pack it away without so much as a pause...  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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