Issue 9: Smitten Kitten

“My policy on cake is pro having it and pro eating it.”
-Unknown 

                Gwen’s thumb swiped her phone to the left, then to the right.  Up, down, left, right, right, left, up...

                “Almost done, Gwen,” a stretchy scientist updated.  Reed Richards checked the reading’s on Gwen’s blood, making sure the last of the symbiote was purged from her system.  A series of tubes were attached to one of her arms while the other was playing a game on her phone.  The alien costumes had a tendency of leaving parts of themselves behind, so Reed had asked her to come in and make sure.  Nearby, the ever loving thing watched.

                “No rush, I’ve got a full phone battery…  YES!  Top spot!  Eat it, LegalWeevil730!  I am the one, true Lobster-Man Unlimited champion!”  Gwen pumped her phone above her head victorious, eliciting sideways looks of confusion from Reed and Ben.

                “Kid, how much coffee you had today?”  Ben asked, rocky arms folded in front of him.

                “Somewhere between a lot and too much.  Why do you ask?” Gwen sarcastically replied, concentrating on her game.

                “Well Gwendolyne, it would appear your blood is testing negative for any remnants of the symbiote.  I’d like you to come back in two weeks so I may take another sample,” Reed instructed, punching something into his tablet.

                “Do I get a lollipop?” Gwen said, pausing her game to pay Reed the attention he deserved.

                “Lady, sugar is the last thing yah need,” Ben chastised.

                “Because I’m such a sweetie?” Gwen smiled playfully, pressing her index fingers into her cheeks.

                “Yer as bad as the red and blue one.”

                “Moving on,” Reed interjected, “I understand the symbiote destroyed your previous Uniform, so Susan took it upon herself to make you a new one.”  His arm stretched into a nearby closet and retrieved a set of spandex.  It was the same design as her old uniform, but it was way too small.

                “Uhm, looks like it will be a bit snug…”

                “It’s made from unstable molecules like ours.  It should stretch like mine and allow you to use your wall crawling abilities uninhibited.”  Reed put the uniform into Gwen’s arms and pointed to a nearby changing area.

                “I believe the technical name is ‘stick-um powers.’  Unstable molecules?  Sounds kind of hokey,” She tugged both sides of the material, finding it did indeed have quite a bit of stretch to it.  “Looks like an Omni-mesh.”

                “A good eye.  Spider-Man mentioned you were a science student,”  Reed and Ben politely turned around while Gwen stepped behind the high tech dressing screen.

                “Well, yes.  But I’m more of a musician,” she chatted, pulling her clothes off over her plump frame.  Stripping down completely to her panties, she unzipped her new uniform and stepped in, pulling it up her soft and thick thighs.  The cloth slipped on like a glove, stretching to accommodate her rotund legs and slipping over her round, beach ball like tush.  “Okay, yeah, it stretches fine.”  She pulled it over her modest belly and ample, globular breasts and zipped it closed.  Grabbing her mask and gloves, she stepped back around the screen.  “Well, how do I look?”

                Reed and Ben turned around to see.  The stretchy Mr. Fantastic shot his neck over and inspected her top to (large) bottom.  The stretching was seriously weirding Gwen out, and she’s seems some weird stuff since becoming a superhero.  “Excellent.  The material is fireproof and should be resistant to other changes in temperature, density, and resistant to dirt-“

                “-And food stains,” Ben interjected.

                “I’m not a sloppy eater, Ben.  Mind your manners,” Gwen corrected, shooting him a glare with her hands on her wide hips.

                “Yes, well, it’s also self-repairing,” Reed finished.

                “No more sewing or popped seams?!  This is like Christmas!” Gwen was legitimately excited by that prospect.

                “Finally, Johnny contacted SHIELD and they set you up with an identity for your time here in our dimension,” Reed gestured to Ben, who held out a folder to Gwen.  Snatching it up, Gwen opened and found it full of documents: birth certificate, social security card, work history, numbers for fictional references.

                “Wow, I feel like Jason Bourn.  Or would that be Jenny Bourne?”  Gwen took a gander at the name on all the files.  “My new name is Joyce Delaney?”  Gwen cocked her eyebrow at the name.  That was certainly going to take some getting used to.

                “Yes.  While spy craft is hardly my forte it’s probably wise to memorize all that information.  That should be all for today.  It was a pleasure to meet you, Gwen.  Welcome to the super hero community.”

                “Thanks for everything, Dr. Richards!”

                “Please, call me Reed.”

                “Reed,” Gwen hopped past Reed and over Ben’s head towards the door.

                “What’s Webs see in her?”  Ben asked Reed.  “Eh, look who ah’m talkin’ to.”

                “Almost forgot,” Gwen lowered in front of the ever-loving’ Thing from a ceiling mounted web line and planted a kiss on his rocky cheek.  “Was wondering if rocks can blush.  Later!”  She swung her fluffy frame over him once again.

                “…She’s a good kid, huh?”  Ben rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, while Reed smiled and went back to his work.

                Spider-Woman closed in on the apartment, folder with her new identity contained within her web backpack.  Peter had taught her the trick a little while ago, and this was the first opportunity she had to try it out.  After the nightmare day she and Peter had a week ago, today had her bouncing in her step.  New snazzy suit, finally able to apply for jobs, and they were both going to move into a larger apartment soon.

                Landing lightly on the roof despite her weight, Gwen strolled over to the skylight and dropped in.  She was going to circle job want ads for flippin’ days…

                Immediately upon landing, her spider-sense flared a bit.  Someone was here, and it wasn’t Peter.  She felt the pit in her stomach drop, her previous home invasion still fresh in her nightmare.  Spinning towards the source of the warning, she struck a ready pose only to be greeted by a sight she did not expect to see.

                Sitting with her feet crossed on the couch was the cat burglar who had evaded Gwen’s capture weeks ago.  This universe’s Felicia Hardy, sporting her trademark silver hair and packed into black leather.  Packed to the point of bursting, she had put on significant weight since Gwen’s last encounter with her.  Unlike Gwen’s hourglass figure, Felicia had blown up in every area.  Sporting wide hips, full legs, a generous and globular bust, and a very ample belly restrained by her leather cat suit.  Resting on her pillowy thighs was a full chocolate cheesecake that she cut and scoop gingerly with a fork, letting a bite pass by her full, ruby red lips into her plump cheeks.

                “Oh, it’s you.  I was expecting the other spider,” Felicia said with a sly and mocking smirk, taking another bite.

                “…Cripes, lady.  You really let yourself go!”  Gwen said without any sense of irony.  She dropped her guard a bit and rubbed the back of her head, looking Felicia up and down.  “What’re you doing here?”

                “Oh, you’re one to talk, tubs,” Cat taunted, setting the cheesecake on the end table and hefting herself up.  “That night a few months ago, I have to admit I was a little jealous learning Peter replaced me.  So, I thought I’d just start working toward getting what’s mine back.”

                “You mean you starting packing on the pounds to try and steal Peter away from me?  How desperately alone are you?”  Gwen bristled like a cat defending her territory.  Felicia walked over, stopping face o mask with Gwen.  Ms. Hardy had a few inches in height over Gwen, but Ms. Stacy had the clear weight advantage stored in her rear.

                “The spider is mine; I was here first.  If indulging myself to round out my appeal will help me snatch up that lovely man, then I have no problems fattening up to be one felicitous feline.”  Felicia licked her lips.

                “Peter’s not some prize you can just steal.  He makes his own decisions and he decided on me!”  Gwen’s mask eyes narrowed as she got right in Black Cat’s face, her breasts and front pressing into the cat burglar’s own.

                “For now, but I’m still playing catch up.  Once I’m as big as you, Peter will make the obvious choice.  Then you’ll be just a fat bug left out in the cold.”  The thief’s words cut a bit into Gwen for a moment, but she quickly shrugged it off.  To punctuate her power play, Felicia stuck out her rear as a wind up and belly bumped Gwen…

                …Only to fall on her ass, bouncing off Gwen like she was a brick wall.  Surprised, Felicia looked up at Gwen, seeing she was smirking under her mask.  Plenty of weight combined with sticky feet ensured Gwen wasn’t going to get bumped away by some wannabe fat cat.

                “What’s wrong, pussy cat?  Throwing your weight around not going your way?”  Gwen crossed her arms, standing over her wannabe competition as she rolled her way onto her feet.  “Peter’s with me, and not because I’m fat.  He’s not going to just dump me because some bovaristic lynx with delusions of snagging him by simply have a fat derriere.

                “You sure about that, Spider-Pig?”

                “Very, now get out of my apartment before I punt you out the window like a beach ball,” Gwen threatened with earnest.  Felicia glared for a moment before heading to the window, squeezing through and disappearing into the open air of the street.  “Steal my man my tuchas.”  She plopped her costumed rear onto the couch, the poor loveseat creaking under her weight.  Still, part of her was worried.  What if Felicia was telling the truth?  What if Peter left Gwen for someone not only fatter, but more enthusiastic about being fatter?

                No, Gwen was letting Felicia get to her.  Peter was not that shallow, and never would be that shallow.  She had nothing to worry about, and she could safely work on getting back down to her fat fighting weight.  Four hundred pounds was plenty of woman for Peter and kept her nimble enough to be a competitor in the crime fighting circuit.

                Gwen pulled off her mask and looked at the various boxes lying around.  They were getting a new place together, too.  Her name was going to be on the lease.  No way would Pete leave her for those kinds of reasons.

                The more Gwen assured herself, the more nervous she got.  Nibbling on her lower lip, she looked at the end table at the chocolate cheesecake Black Cat had left behind.

                “Well…  I can start my diet tomorrow…  Maybe next week, that will give me time to talk to Peter about Felicia.  An honest relationship is a healthy relationship,” Gwen told herself out loud.  Patting her thighs nervously, she looked back at the cheesecake for a moment before taking the plate, putting it on her lap, and taking a slice in her hand.

                “…Better safe than sorry, I guess…”  Gwen told herself before digging in.

                Dropping into the skylight from a quiet evening patrol, Peter was greeted by Gwen asleep on the couch.  He smiled under his mask at his slumbering lover, before noticing a couple empty plates nearby.  Chocolate, crumbs, and various other sweet treat remnants lay on the plates; obvious signs Gwen had binged when she got home.

                “Oh Gwen, you’re going to ruin your diet,” Peter whispered, removing his mask.  As much as he loved the idea of Gwen indulging and growing, he knew she wanted to lose weight and didn’t want her to gain for the wrong reasons.  Collecting the plates quietly, he navigated past a collection of packed boxes and deposited the dishes in the kitchen.  On his way back to the living room, he spotted a folder on the counter and took a look.

                “Joyce Delaney?  Cute name,” Peter remarked.  Heading back in, he scooped his five hundred pound girlfriend up effortlessly and took her to the bedroom to rest properly.

Next Chapter:  Familiar Faces