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Era de mañana en el diario "El Clarín", en una de sus oficinas se encontraba Peter Parker, un chico castaño de 27 años de edad, medía 1.85 y pesaba 90 kgs. de músculo, estéticamente bien distribuido, traía puesta esa mañana una camisa blanca que se ajustaba bien a su anatomía atlética, pero sin ser demasiado llamativo, la camisa se ajustaba bien en su pecho y bíceps, también llevaba un pantalón negro de vestir y un calzado del mismo color, bien lustrado, el cuello de su camisa desabotonado solo para permitirle respirar bien y no sofocarse, pues el viaje matutino usando sus poderes para llegar al diario había sido bastante veloz, tomó las mangas de la camisa y las arremangó para dejar descubiertos sus antebrazos mientras tomaba un folder con fotos de Spiderman, se sonrió entre sí. Estos meses habían sido importantes para él, encontró un traje alien que lo había mejorado por completo, le dió más velocidad, agilidad, fuerza, músculos, y sobre todo un crecimiento en su virilidad que él en un principio no podía creer, aún recordaba cuando solo medía 1.75 y pesaba solo 70kgs., era sorprendente lo que unos meses con el traje le habían hecho, de tener un pedazo de solo 16 cms. de virilidad en erección pasó a tener un monstruo de 25 cms. No dejaba de ver sus fotos, apaleando maleantes la noche anterior, era magnífico, pensaba en el puesto que estaba compitiendo en ese momento como fotógrafo de planta, el otro hombre definitivamente no tenía oportunidad, dió un sorbo a su café mientras seguía sentado y vió la puerta de entrada de la oficina. Llegó alguien, justamente el hombre que no tenía oportunidades contra Parker, era nada más y nada menos que su compañero de oficina, Eddie Brock. Eddie era ya un hombre de 37 años de edad, a pesar de ser mayor en edad que Peter, se veía más joven, era rubio, de cabello corto, facciones joviales, ojos azules y totalmente lampiño, la vida no le había favorecido, nunca tuvo oportunidad de ejercitarse, ni hacer dietas u otro tipo de cosas debido a su físico, medía tan solo 1,65 cms de alto y pesaba tan solo 60kgs., definitivamente no imponía de ninguna forma, todo mundo le pasaba por encima y últimamente alguien en especial. El pobre Eddie llegó agitado y sudando a la oficina, con su maletín color café a un lado. Eddie estaba vestido con una camisa de color azul cielo que resaltaba aquellos ojos suyos, un pantalón café y calzado del mismo color, todo se hubiera visto bien de no ser por que todo le quedaba grande, a excepción del calzado, la camisa le colgaba de los laterales, y ni que decir de los hombros y las mangas, daba la impresión de que un niño se había vestido con la ropa de su padre, debido a ello nunca tuvo oportunidad de ligar con alguien en su vida. Mientras aún respiraba de manera agitada veía a Parker bastante fresco y seguro de su persona. Eddie se cuestionaba cómo era posible que Parker estaba así si vivía más lejos que él del trabajo, a pesar de tener cierto recelo al castaño, lo saludó ... - Hola, buenos días Parker - Se oyó su voz algo aguda, parecía la voz de un joven de 15 años. - ¿Cómo le haces para llegar antes que yo, si yo vivo más cerca? Peter lo miró de reojo y sonriendo mientras tomaba su café, le dijo: - Por que me levanto más temprano que tú, "amiguito". Eddie miró a Parker, notó que el castaño había mejorado mucho su físico en los últimos meses, sabía que eso no era normal en una persona, además Eddie siempre peleaba por entrar en el bus de la primera hora, mínimo debería que ver a Parker en el transporte o llegar al mismo tiempo si es que Peter tomaba el bus de otra ruta. Eddie terminó por mejor dejar de pensar en ello y se metió al baño para refrescarse un poco, aún así no podía dejar de sentirse frustrado, al salir vio al Sr. Jameson hablando con Peter y solo dijo él: - Hola Sr ... Jameson y Parker vieron al rubio de reojo y siguieron en su plática ... si, literalmente lo habían ignorado. Parker le mostró al jefe sus fotos de Spiderman, Jameson quedó satisfecho como siempre con aquellas fotografías, las tomó y se fue sin decir nada, Peter vio al rubio de nuevo ... -Vaya, de nuevo se te fue el avión del éxito " amiguito ". - El castaño volvió a tomar su café y a darle un sorbo mientras se recargaba en el rubio y lo veía como poca cosa - No te preocupes Eddie, siempre debe haber un segundón para que el primer lugar brille más y descuida, cuando me den el puesto , serás mi "asistonto", te lo aseguro. El rubio apretó su puño y saco su hombro del contacto de Parker para después tomar su maletín y probar suerte en la ciudad por unas fotografías. Peter solo lo vió: -Bye "pequeñín". Oye cuando vuelvas de pasear tráeme un café ... - El castaño sonrió mientras veía salir al rubio -Pobre Eddie, casi me da pena el pobre, pero bueno, no puede competir con un súper hombre como yo ... Parker se quedó de ocioso en la oficina mientras esperaba que fuera más tarde para la hora de la comida, total, al final sabía que en la noche tomaría sus fotos, mientras tanto cuando Eddie salía ... - Maldito parker, su actitud ha cambiado , es un pedante ahora- murmuraba el rubio mientras iba a su lugar secreto dentro del diario, era un cubículo abandonado y muy reducido, solo tenía espacio para una silla y unas cuantas cosas, Eddie entró y activó su radio clandestino de la policía mientras seguía pensando en Parker - solo por que ha cambiado su físico y tiene suerte con las fotos me trata así. Ya se había hecho tarde y Parker tenía hambre ya: - ¡Maldición Brock !, ¡¿Dónde te metiste?!, Sabes que quiero mi comida a cierta hora, maldito enano. - Peter salió de la oficina bastante enojado y se dirigió a la calle para comprar algo y así calmar su apetito, ya pudiendo comprar algo se tranquilizó un poco, pero seguía molesto debido a que aún consumiendo lo que había comprado, su hambre no desaparecía. - Comí demasiado y aún tengo hambre, no lo entiendo, ¡¿Por qué me está pasando esto ?! - El castaño empezaba a enfadarse más, pero en ese momento comenzó a activarse su sentido arácnido. - Sí, lo que me faltaba- se fue a un callejón oscuro y metió su ropa de civil en una bolsa de telaraña -Vamos a perseguir a los chicos malos y a tomar fotos. Mientras tanto Brock salía a toda prisa, escuchó sobre un asalto a un banco cercano y salió disparado del diario, directo a la acción. Al salir vió al mismo tiempo a Spiderman ir hacia la escena del crimen, no era lejos, Brock corrió lo más deprisa que podía, pero llegó demasiado tarde, al estar ya en el lugar solo vio cómo Spiderman salía de escena y varios criminales envueltos en telaraña, pegados a los postes de luz, el rubio se sintió fatal, otra escena de acción se le había escapado. - Maldición, así no lograré nada. Tomó fotos de lo que podía y regresó al diario lo más pronto que pudo, tenía en mente lograr ofrecer sus fotos antes de que Parker apareciera, aunque era muy raro, Peter nunca estaba en la escena y aún así conseguía fotos. Al llegar a la oficina se sorprendió, Parker ya estaba ahí, entregándole varias fotos a Jameson. Brock veía como su oportunidad se desvanecía mientras el jefe entraba a su oficina con Peter detrás de él, el pequeño rubio solo se sentó en su escritorio bastante agitado de tanto correr y entonces ... -¡¡¡Brock !!! Parker gritó como si fuera el jefe al entrar en su oficina compartida, mientras que el rubio solo lo veía con enfado y Parker cerraba de un portazo el lugar y Eddie lo cuestionó. -No sé cómo le haces ... Tú estabas aquí en la oficina y vuelves con fotos y no estás cansado ... - Peter se acercaba poco a poco a Brock que aún seguía agitado, pero confrontándolo, el rubio no sabía si eso era una buena idea o no, pero ya lo estaba haciendo. -¡¿Qué quieres Parker ?! -¡¿Qué quiero?! - Parker sonrió con algo de burla, y así tomó del cuello de la camisa con ambas manos a Brock, levantándolo del suelo, mientras el rubio veía como los pectorales, bíceps y antebrazos del castaño se tensaban en la camisa. - Esas no son maneras de contestarle a tu futuro jefe .- Parker acercó su cara a la del rubio - ¡¿Porqué olvidaste mi comida, maldito enano ?! -¿Cu ... cuál comida ?, No me pe ... pe ... pediste na..nada, solo un café... si regresaba, pero ... - ¡Cállate !, Deja de balbucear como estúpido , sabes que si te pido algo tienes que traer eso y más, en todo caso no me trajiste ¡Nada !, Eso no es de buenos amigos. ¿Oh si? Pequeño charal sudoroso. Las venas del antebrazo de Parker estaban dilatadas debido al tiempo de mantener suspendido al rubio. - Tú ... Tú no eras así .... ¿Que te pasó? - Dijo el rubio algo asustado y triste mientras el semblante de Parker cambiaba de ser agresivo a estar algo fuera de sí, soltando a Brock y dejándolo caer al suelo. - Yo ... Yo ..., Vete por comida y no tardes - El castaño le lanzó billetes en la cara a Brock - Hazlo ya ... Después de eso el rubio se arrastró por el suelo, tomó el dinero y salió disparado de la oficina, pero aún le temblaban algo las piernas. - Maldito Parker. ¿Qué se creé el idiota? No, mejor no lo hago enojar más, no se qué más me podría hacer - El rubio vuelve con una ensalada y pechuga de pollo asada, no había tardado nada en verdad. - Ahí tienes Parker, que te aproveche.- Eddie no pudo evitar decirlo con un tono algo desafiante. - Ya era hora - Mientras tanto Peter no prestó atención al tono de Brock, estaba tan hambriento que solo le importaba la comida, el rubio de lejos veía cómo Peter comía, parecía ansioso y desesperado, como un animal salvaje, incluso soltaba unos cuantos gruñidos , así que prefirió salir e ir al baño, mientras tanto solo pensaba en la conducta de Parker durante los últimos meses, se dirigió al baño del piso, abrió la puerta y se dirigió a uno de los mingitorios. Desenfundó su pedazo de carne, solo medía 8 cms., Y eso si fuera erecto, en reposo solo eran 5 cms, así es, el rubio era pequeño hasta en eso. Mientras orinaba y sentía pena por si mismo oyó abrirse la puerta del baño, para su desgracia era nada más y nada menos que Peter que lo observaba, el castaño comenzó a olfatear, cómo si oliera algo en el ambiente y mientras hacía eso su pantalón de vestir marcaba la gran erección de Parker, el pedazo caliente de 25 cms. de su entrepierna, estaba al máximo. - Aaaaahhhh- el castaño parecía apreciar algún olor. - Aquí huele ... - Dijo el castaño acercándose a Brock. -¿Qué quieres decir con eso? - Eddie guardó su falo y subió la bragueta de su pantalón, tenía un presentimiento y pensaba mejor salir lo antes posible de aquel lugar. - Seguro es el baño, está mal lavado, saldré y le diré al personal del aseo. Parker se acercó al rubio y lo tomó con bastante fuerza. - ¡Eres tú! ... ¡Tú apestas! - Parker volvió a cargar al rubio como lo había hecho ya hace rato y empezó a frotar su gran erección en la entrepierna de Eddie mientras al mismo tiempo le oprimía su pequeña hombría. -Quieres ser preñado.- El rubio estaba acorralado y se sintió indefenso, no podía ocultar su rostro de preocupación. -Parker, si ... si ... huelo así es por qué corrí mu ... mucho hoy ... Me pondré des ... desodorante para no mo ... molestarte ... - Tú quieres ser preñado- Parker parecía un animal salvaje que no razonaba. - ¡¿Preñarme?!, ¡¿A qué te refieres ?! Parker soltó a Brock pero solo para tomarlo fuertemente por la cintura. -Sabes que necesitas un macho, pequeña perra.- El castaño empezaba a merodear con su mano de forma lasciva el cuerpo del rubio aún por encima de la ropa de éste, la mano de Peter empezaba a deslizarse hacia la pelvis de Eddie, casi por tocar su hombría, pero en ese momento Parker se detuvo . - No ... No ... Esto no está bien ... No ... - Peter soltó al rubio de inmediato y salió rápidamente del baño. Eddie sudaba frío, solo en el baño, pegado a la pared aún, traumatizado, se sintió débil y frágil, sus piernas no dejaban de temblar, era la primera vez que alguien intentaba violarlo, solo pudo encogerse y quedarse en estado fetal en el piso de aquel baño.

CW: muscle growth, BE, height, giantess, godhood, fantasy violence, m/f. "Thanks, she'll love these," the big, bespectacled man said as he handed a few dollars to the vendor. "It's our d-dating anniversary." He remembered his stammer, made sure to trip on the curb as he turned to cross the street. An old woman was crossing too, coming toward him while a daydreaming driver sped down the road. The big man covered the side of his mouth and sneezed, and a sudden gust of wind pushed the truck into the next lane, swerving around the pedestrian. He smirked to himself and bid the old woman good afternoon as she passed him, completely oblivious. Adjusting his thick-rimmed specs, he remembered that time a close friend who was in on the secret asked him what would happen if somebody ever saw him without his glasses on. They just say 'Has anyone ever told you you kinda look like Superman?' He chuckled at the memory. And that's when he heard it. The sky was being split in half. Something seriously big was screaming toward the city, faster than a comet. Clark had less than a second to react. More than enough time. The asphalt where he stood a microsecond earlier cracked and his street clothes evaporated into ashes as he shot into the air, a blue and red blur too fast for the human eye to see. Over the coast and then the sea, he braced himself to collide with the object, ready to absorb the impact... that didn't come. The object stopped. It didn't slow down. It just stopped in mid-air. The atoms pulled in its wake cracked with a deafening boom. Wreathed in flames and iridescent light, its horrifying form dawned on Superman's mind. "...Kara?" His sharp eyes and photographic memory instantly identified her sweet, young face through the wisps of smoke and steam and embers. Her shining eyes stared right back into his, and he didn't recognize the rage and greed behind them. It was as if his cousin had been replaced from the inside out! Atop her head, a beacon of horned light shone its silken effulgence in shades of color only visible to kryptonian eyes like theirs. He had seen stars in remote galaxies less beautiful than her crown, its gilded opalescence melting into her platinum hair. "Hello, Kal." Her generous lips parted, showing a perfect, radiant smile that betrayed the gut-wrenching mass of the rest of her body. That gorgeous face of hers contrasted with all the hideous strength coursing through her hyper-expanded muscles, muscles so dense that Superman's x-ray vision couldn't even penetrate them. But his microscopic vision detected that the cells lining her skin were being bombarded with solar energy, radiation that looked as if it was being condensed into trillions of pinpoints through trillions of magnifying glasses. To eyes as perceptive as his, she was blinding. There was a sound like marble grinding against metal as her pecs bunched up under her cute chin, her traps swollen up under her ears, mounds of muscle naked and bursting with corrugated power like the rest of her body. Superman felt a wave of shame pass over him at the sight of those inhuman slabs on her chest, torn to shreds down the middle, hefting two breasts each wider than his shoulders, each thrusting like a balcony from the wall of her torso. What would Lois think? But he couldn't look away, couldn't rip his eyes away from the most impressive physique he'd ever seen. And he had seen many. Despite the extreme mass packed onto her womanly frame, her symmetry was otherworldly. He caught himself drooling over her bursting T-shaped torso snaked with throbbing veins, her tapered waist overcrowded with abdominals fighting for space, her bulging obliques that somehow maintained her feminine curves, her hairless quivering sex, her chasmic thighs that looked like they were gashes rent out of solid titanium, her calves like gigantic, neolithic spearheads crafted from boulders... "Impressed?" her feminine voice was like the sound of starlight that only their alien race could hear, entrancing and awe-inspiring but coupled with a girlish teasing tone completely out of sync with such a grotesquely shredded and massive body. Even hovering in mid-air, she seemed to tower over him. His eyes followed hers. She looked over to her arm, raising, curling, clenching her fist. The goddess moaned aloud as she flexed a bicep, a huge peaking volcano of muscle that continued to engorge itself, fibers ripping and rebuilding, veins clawing, until it soared to its full peaking glory. And she brought her arm to her face and licked her own bicep, kissed it, eyes rolling back, lost in the bliss of so much inflated immensity. Her sweet saliva rolled down the bulbous curves of her arm like a drop of honey. Her other arm, he just noticed, held something behind her back. "Ohh my muscles feel so good... so strong..." "How...?" Superman found his voice. "...What happened?" "Maybe I finally soaked up enough sun by stepping out of your shadow," she looked at him, hungrily, even angrily. Superman caught her tone and tried to react to the situation. "Kara... you don't belong here. Not like this. You're not in your right mind..." Then the warning. He always gave a warning. Bad habit. "You need to get as far away from Metropolis as you can. Now." Kara sneered a bright grin. "Always the boss. Always acting like the big tough man. The whole world looks up to you. But how could I ever have done that? Hahaha, look at you!" He was a scrawny scarecrow before her, a boy in a costume, no more. Her eyes could see straight through him, penetrating his cells and his thoughts, his physiology and his psyche "Now you'll look up to me!" She began to fly toward him, toward the city, slowly, unstoppably. As her huge chest approached him, Superman backed up, every ounce of his being wanting to reach out and touch this embodiment of the ultimate power fantasy while every iota of his good nature reminded him to be a good boy. "Kara! Stop!" he said, "STOP!" The ocean waves beneath them billowed at the force of his voice, but even a command so powerful couldn't stop her. Still she approached, so immense and so close that her chest began to eclipse the radiance of her face and her crown. A meteor irresistibly falling toward humanity's extinction. "Kara? I'm not Kara, little man," daggers of light stabbed from her eyes, "I am the Goddess of War." Superman glanced back at the city, millions of lives clustered in streets and skyscrapers and suburbs, counting on him. He turned back toward Kara and was greeted with the gray, skeletal, sapped body of Supergirl, writhing like a worm on a hook, dangling from her tattered cape which was gripped tight in Power Girl's fist. Superman's temper simmered at the sight of her crumpled husk and the sound of her faint heartbeat. "Oh my God, what--" "She dared to defy me, Kal-El," the goddess responded, still approaching, "What will you do? Will you protect your city and end up like she did? Or will you bow down and worship the new empress of Earth?" "Let her go, Power Girl! NOW!" Superman threw the first punch. She shut her eyes and laughed, a twinkling sound like golden chimes and bells, and caught his fist in her own. Although his hand was bigger, she flexed and they both felt the bones in his fingers snap. "You chose poorly." The halo of light from her head turned into an inferno of colors. She pushed against Superman's fist and he found himself hurtling backward, his fall a blazing knife cutting open the sky. He impacted the street with a cloud of dust and broken asphalt, then a splash of water as his body punctured a water main. He was already in the air again. The goddess was still slowly descending. Superman grit his teeth and poured his energies into his eyes, blasting a barrage of heat vision that hit her square in the chest. He heard a horrifying noise: she scoffed at his assault. He roared as his red beams turned almost white, hot enough to melt any metal on Earth. Then he felt himself suddenly pulled forward, completely off balance. Power Girl had grabbed hold of his heat vision, fingers closing over the rows of searing light particles and she yanked him out of thin air. As he pitched toward the ground, he caught himself and took to the air again. People were beginning to react and break into a run, evacuating the scene as windows along the sides of skyscrapers shattered, waterfalls of glass tumbling to the walks below. As he flew, he spun himself like a drill and the air whirled around him, turning into a dark tornado that continued to grow in size. The super storm blackened the skies over the city and swallowed the goddess. The winds howled about her, still she descended at the same floating pace. "You think you can threaten my city? Leave NOW!" Superman's voice echoed on the wind. His fists landed across her back, her chest, her shoulders. His punches could crush moons. The sound of his attack was like bombs detonating. "Pff! Pathetic!" the goddess raised her arms to block her face, if only intuitively, throwing Supergirl's husk of a body to the ground below. "Don't tell me you're the one who brought together the Justice League, who humbled Darkseid, who once pushed planets out of orbit, who lifted infinity and survived death itself? You're nothing but an anachronism. A has-been. A boy scout helping old women across the street. Your time in the sun is over." His fists pummeled her impenetrable stomach, peppered her legs, faster than the human eye could see, all to distract from a single punch he prepared and landed right on the naked mound of her groin. Power Girl doubled over in sudden pain, shock filling her eyes as she sucked in air, as if she'd forgotten what pain felt like. Before she could catch her breath, she felt Superman's feet collide with the back of her head. She came crashing down into the shoreline below. The blast of her impact flattened nearby palm trees and showered sand and water vapor through the air. "You came barking up the wrong tree, Power Girl. I don't know what Ares has done to you, but we're going to reign this in together." Superman descended straight down and lighted on the beach, arms crossed. The Goddess of War shot toward him many times faster than a speeding bullet, too fast for the Man of Steel to avoid. She tackled him to the ground, a mountain of muscle too huge to wrestle. Her crushing hand was on his face. She tore his head off, screaming, enraged. Oil and wires leaked from his neck. Her magnifying vision recognized highly advanced kryptonian tech. A decoy! Hands of flesh closed around her head. She felt Superman dig his feet into her shoulders, one hand pulling up hard under her chin. His other hand slipped under the burning rim of her helmet and he yelled out in pain. Then he flew from his perch, tearing off the helm of war with him. A thunderclap echoed through her brain as the merged minds of Ares and Power Girl were severed. Shuddering, feeling suddenly far too heavy to stand, her whole body aching, her joints cracking, her muscles sore beyond words, Power Girl fell to her knees in the sand, panting. A wave of weakness and nausea hit her, marooned and shipwrecked inside of a body too muscular to move, the last remnants of her ruined costume hanging from her like cobwebs. She scrambled across the sand, coughing, drooling, all the light drained from her face. "So this was the cause of all this trouble?" Superman stood above her, red boots planted on the ground. He looked like a god. The perfect man, perfectly handsome and resolute. He turned the helmet of war round and round in his hands. It had reverted to its old steely blue appearance, hollow and dark. "Ares' helmet, the helm of War. Diana warned us about the Olympians before. They're treacherous. They can even turn someone as good natured as you into a monster." His eyes were full of pity. "...Kal..." Power Girl groaned. "Help me... I feel..." she spit bile into the sand. "So sick..." "You were sick, Kara. It's over now. Let me help you, please." He bent down and pressed his forehead against hers. "I'm so sorry." "I'm sorry..." her knee collided with his balls as her arms flung out and grabbed him. It took every last bit of strength she had. As he gasped, agony radiating from his groin, she whispered in his ear and wrenched the helmet from his grasp: "Idiot. Your kindness was always your weakness." As she placed the helmet back on her head, her body flared back to life. Rays of light sprung from her mouth and eyes, her face lit up with heavenly beauty, her health returned and doubled, she rose to her full height, several feet taller than Kal. Her hand was around his throat. She picked him up and slammed him into the ground, over and over, like a strangled rag doll. "You son of bitch! You goddamn pompous bastard!" she shrieked, her rage burning brighter and brighter, "You soaked up power and adoration for years, keeping me around like a fucking sidekick to clean up your mess!" She held him high by his neck, felt his energy flowing out of him... into her. "You feasted on their worship! You basked in the warmth of so much glory and kept it all to yourself!" She threw him. His body sailed through the air and collided with a skyscraper. Everyone had fled. Nobody was there to see his defeat at the hands of the Goddess of War... nobody except for Daily Planet reporter, Lois Lane, who had raced in a hijacked taxi to the oceanside. "Clark!" she cried. "Claaaaaaaark," the goddess teased, "I'm not done playing with you..." Superman gathered himself from the wreckage and staggered out onto the sidewalk and into the street. The Goddess of War was coming closer. He could feel the heat radiating from her immense body, like the sun. Except unlike the sun, she seemed to sap his strength rather than enhance it. Justice League! Priority K! Respond! he reached out for the telepathic web cast by J'onn J'onnzz, the Martian Manhunter. He had to call for help, he was weakening fast. Superman? Where are you? J'onn's voice rang through his synapses. Metropolis! Hurry! "Calling your friends, Kal? What a coward," Power Girl shook her head, "The world doesn't need cowards. It needs a Goddess! It needs War!" Her thunderous footsteps brought her nearer, shaking the whole city block. "Lois! Get back!" Superman shouted as his lover ran closer. "Worry about yourself, you goddamn pest!" the Goddess of War raised a massive leg and stomped his body into the ground. Before he could fly away, she sat on his hips. Her weight knocked the breath out of him. She pressed her pillar-like thighs against him like a vice. He winced as he felt a rib snap and his heart began to race with a rare feeling: fear. He looked up. Another mistake. Above him, Power Girl ran her fingers over the perfect symmetry of her bloated muscular body, the heaving slabs of her chest, the cannons of her arms, the chiseled columns of her abs. Her hands slid to her waist, balling into fists at her hips. "Look at me, Man of Tomorrow!" She began to flex, rhythmically gyrating her pelvis, grinding her wet pussy against his bulge. His breath was taken away. "LOOK AT ME!" He had no choice. The sight of her tensing, inflating, furrowed, gruesome muscles filled his vision. Her monolithic breasts began to bounce above him. He couldn't help but get hard for her, for all that insane, inhuman power packed onto the once petite (albeit busty) frame of her body. "LOOK AT ME, KRYPTONIAN! AND DESPAIR!" She flexed harder, only now her muscles weren't swelling from the flex, but actually filling up with energy like liquid filling up water balloons, like molten magma pouring directly into her white hot veins. "You've fought many battles, Superman! You've endured many wars, here on Earth and across the galaxy! Now all of your power, all of your skill, all of your battle prowess and experience belongs to me! All war must come together to feed the Goddess of War!" Superman felt himself getting weaker, not unlike the revolting sensation of being exposed to kryptonite, only he could see his powers flowing out of him and into his cousin riding on top of him. Power Girl leaned back, raised both arms and flexed. Her whole body exploded with additional mass. She did it again, her biceps rising higher, her forearms growing thicker, her waist tighter, her chest wider, her shoulders bigger. Her thighs swelled against him until they were each bigger around than his body. Her head disappeared behind a blockade of seething, undulating, super-freakish muscle. Superman wondered how much more she could take, and every moment saw his terror deepening, Lois sobbing in the background as he shrank and shriveled and dumped his strength into her. Power Girl was surprised by the endless drain, too. "There's more? MORE? FUCK. ME." Her muscular pussy grabbed his cock like iron jaws. His member throbbed uncontrollably, assaulted beyond reason, harder than he'd ever been before, so hard it hurt. From the colossal base of her shredded thighs like twin bulls roaring with power at either side of Superman's body, her waist rose like a Greek sculpture, entrenched with muscle and dwarfed by the rest of her body, by the trembling lats framing her like a broad shield big enough to cover a tank. As she breathed, her abs flexed and relaxed, looking harder and meaner and uglier every time, each individual abdominal now the size of his own head. Her pecs had so gorged themselves that they were each thicker than her own waist, huge sheaths of muscle looking like rocky strata jutting from the Earth, and atop them, the biggest, smoothest, most perfect breasts he'd ever laid eyes upon. He wept at the sight of them, if only because he thought he didn't have the strength left to reach up and fondle them where they bounced over his body, that is if he could even hope to knead those two wrecking balls striated like they were made of pure muscle. She had devoured so much of his strength and mass that her enlarged glutes touched the bottom of the muscles hanging in heaps of quivering flesh from her back like some alien tortoise shell. He could hear her moaning, kissing and licking her shoulders and the tops of her own pecs that were beginning to crowd over her face. She leaned forward and her fists came down on either side of his head, giving him a blinding front row seat to her face being swallowed up by her traps and shoulders and pecs, a face that seemed to unfold past the blossom of youth, the ideal narcissistic beauty, an unreachable standard, a mask of flaxen velvet, her skin like spun starlight, her eyes like celestial pearls, her eyelashes like the wings of night, her lips like solar flares, the saliva that dripped from her hungry mouth like incandescent ambrosia... she was unimaginably beautiful. No human could have resisted her. Few mortals could have even survived the presence of such beauty, like looking into the heart of the sun. Along her regal brow, the helm of war had evolved into the shape of an icy, horned diadem of platinum patterns repeating down through microscopic infinity, bejeweled with a constellation of gemstones that shone like the Olympian pantheon themselves, gods she had already far outpaced. Such a face, the freshness of youth, the wisdom of deities, the beauty of a queen, mounted on top of a garish, sickening, disgusting, distended war machine of muscle swollen past any semblance of normalcy, every muscle so vastly overripe that entirely new proportions came into existence on her frame. "Look what I am becoming, Kal," her voice crashed into his senses like a tidal wave. Superman couldn't hear Lois weeping in the background anymore. He couldn't even think of Lois, a waif compared to the sexual power personified in front of him, filling not just all of his vision, but all of his thoughts. Shield your vision. Do not look at her. Superman could hardly hear the new voice, either, even though it rang through his brain, not his ears. He felt himself tearing away from beneath her. He saw a green flash of light then heard the noise of light particles shattering. "Lantern!" J'onn J'onnz said as he flew up into the sky away from the Goddess. "...No... Take me... back..." Superman wheezed, "Back... to her..." Superman! the Martian Manhunter's telepathic cry shook him from his reverie, Do not forget our situation! A superpowered kryptonian is on the loose in YOUR city wielding the power of one of the most dangerous of the Greek gods! She just disposed of Hal Jordan with a flick of her wrist and I cannot reach her telepathically! Power Girl has merged with Ares! I cannot take you back! "Then... take me to the Fortress..." Superman clutched at J'onn's wrist. "Fast..." They rocketed through the air, Superman murmuring obscenities and perversions, his brain still reeling from the sight of what his cousin had turned into, the memory of all her muscle burned into his frontal lobe. The Manhunter said nothing, pouring on the speed, hoping that his tricks of invisibility would aid their escape. They were nearly over the arctic now, snowy plains beneath them, the Fortress of Solitude in sight when a beam of opalescent light carved the air and set the Manhunter ablaze. He hardly had time to scream as the white flames enveloped him. He dropped Superman and fell unconscious into a nearby mountainside. Superman opened his eyes and angled his body, clumsily gliding in his exhaustion as he fell, plummeting through the roof of the Fortress. Crystal shards splintered and cracked around him as he reached the floor. He felt like a bag of broken bones. With all the strength he could muster, he reached for a nearby console, fingers trembling over the controls. The Fortress reacted, sifting through his encyclopedic collection of artifacts from across the universe until the right one was selected and brought to him. A robotic arm craned down toward him, its pincers holding a tiny purple capsule with a single word writ in kryptonian: DOOMSDAY. Superman thought of Lois, and Jimmy, and Ma and Pa, and Lana, and Perry, and the old woman crossing the street, and the flower salesman, and the barista, and the millions of other faces of Metropolis and Smallville and across the world. The Doomsday mutagen was the last resort of last resorts, but as the entire front of the Fortress caved in, he knew what he had to do and he prayed that the surviving members of the Justice League would be able to stop him after he put his own cousin down. "There's no use hiding, Kal!" Crystals shrieked and ground into powder as Power Girl came through the wall, swinging the Fortress's giant golden key like the arm of a crane. "Goodbye, Kara Zor-L, and forgive me," Superman closed his eyes and snapped the capsule between two fingers. He could hear the hissing, monstrous DNA helix sizzling through the icy air like a dragon, and he braced himself to transform into an unstoppable killing machine, but then it stopped before it reached him. His eyes shot open, horror mixed with delight: horror at the thought of her ingesting the mutagen, delight at the anticipation of how it would even further push her limits. He screamed in protest and couldn't be heard. Power Girl had opened her mouth, inhaling. A hurricane swept to life inside the Fortress, glass and ice, crystal and machines breaking off and tumbling down her hungry gullet. She swallowed the Doomsday mutagen, shut her mouth, and laughed through her teeth. Her laugh grew darker, louder, more threatening, even as her body began to grow again, her skin turning paler, grayer, almost silver, impossible diamond-like spikes starting to protrude from her knees, elbows, toes, fingers, back, and knuckles. She continued to laugh as the Doomsday mutagen melded with the magic of the god of War and her kryptonian heritage inside her growing body, her muscles doubling in width, her head raising higher as she swelled taller, new veins paving paths through her muscles to feed her insane growth. So much power she choked on it and seized up wide-eyed through a breathless orgasm, juices blasting from her vagina, gorgeous face pierced with a look of absolute euphoria. Still her body grew. Still her kryptonian DNA flooded with the Doomsday mutagen, sealed in place and refined by the magic coruscating through her branching veins. There was a sound like a super nova. Fire and light erupted from her swelling form, her muscles so monstrous and enormous she looked like a round planet of boiling, steely flesh. She reached out and flexed biceps that crashed into the ceiling above like rising towers, triceps bulging against her surging thighs, legs grown so thick that her stance had turned into a squat. Through the roaring crescendo her transformation, Power Girl's voice resounded and shook the North. "The world will NEVER forgive you, Superman. They will hate you for crowning ME as their new empress!" (end of part 4) (access the full story and the full library at )