Girls Night Out II by Nomdreserv and the Dark Oni (SW, AR)

[TheoW]

Based on characters from the animated series of the Batman/Superman adventures, this is a collaboration with Dark Oni. We were discussing how much fun it would be to shrink or regress the wonderful female characters, and ... well, see for yourself.

(With some great illustrations from Glassthorn in the first few chapters)

Girls Night Out II

by Nomdreserv and the Dark Oni

(A very loosely based fanfic using copyrighted characters belonging to DC comics. The characters are adapted primarily from the personas as portrayed in the animated series.)

A crowd murmured and bustled among the displays and booths of the Gotham Comic Con, with the usual displays and back issues vying for the attention of the comic enthusiasts. Most wore the standard T-shirts and jeans, but a few costumed participants stood out among the crowd, not always to good effect.

Matt Staurek sat sketching at his booth. He was a free lance artist, with contract sales to several books that gave him a living. However, a significant portion of his income came from attending these conventions, not so much from sales of his own work and a couple of independently printed books he had drawn, but from on site "commissions" from the attendees. As usual, most of these involved superheroines being separated from their costumes in one way or another, and Matt sighed as he drew yet another victim of a "nude ray."

"You!" An imperious voice made him look up.

Standing by his booth was a stunning young Asian woman, young twenties he guessed, possibly Japanese, with smoldering eyes, long, wavy black hair, and a centerfold body. She wore a crown or tiara with an ostentatious jewel in the center and carried an ornately carved wooden staff. Her full breasts were supported in a silver colored bustier, with a bare midriff displayed above a silver bikini bottom. Matt noticed another bright jewel winking from a medallion between her breasts (where his gaze noticeably lingered), and several set in equally bright rings on her fingers (where his gaze did not). She wore knee high boots, but her long, shapely legs were otherwise bare. A silver cloak swept down across her back. All the material shone with a strange, otherwordly shimmering. She was quite a spectacle, even at a comic book convention. Several male patrons stared openly, some with mouths agape, while a few flashes signaled photo souvenirs. Even Matt found it difficult to make eye contact as her breasts heaved with each indignant breath.

"You - man," she repeated to him in irritation. "Where are the superheroes?"

"What?" he asked, put off by her condescending tone.

Her brows knit. "Idiot!" The superheroes. Where are they?"

Great, he thought, one of those.

"OK," he replied with a smirk. "Mega Comics' stuff is set up over there. AC/DC comics are mostly..."

"Fool!" she spat. "I care nothing for your worthless papers. Where are the heroes? That I may defeat them.”

“Uh ... yeah,” he finally managed. “Well, you see ...”

They were interrupted by a young man, college age, wearing a torn, mildly obscene T-shirt and faded jeans. He walked around, inspecting her from all angles in obvious appreciation.

“Whoa, babe!” he whistled. “Like the look - totally major. So, you like supposed to be the White Queen or something? Bitchin. Why don’t you and me ...” He reached to take her hand.

“Silence!” she snapped, eyes blazing. She lifted her staff.

For several seconds, his mouth kept moving, but no sounds came forth, making his eyes go wide in surprise, then fear. He grabbed at his throat.

“Since you are so obviously a boy in mind and not a man, my punishment will be minor,” she continued icily. “But since you act like such a child to women, all who you try to impose yourself upon should find you as one.” She touched a ring on her finger and waved the hand in an intricate pattern in front of his crotch.

His eyes went even wider, and his hands moved to clutch at his groin frantically. Feeling only the smallest of bumps, he pulled at his pants’ waist to peer inside, oblivious to the gawking crowd around them. Suddenly, as his face went red with rage, his voice returned.

“You fucking bitch! How the fuck did you do that? I look like a fucking six year old down there!” His fists clenched threateningly.

She looked at him fearlessly, a confident smile undisturbed. Suddenly, a further shrinking sensation made him pale. He looked down with even greater despair.

“A two year old’s equipment now, dolt,” she sneered. “To match your infantile attitude. And I don’t think you’ll be ‘fucking’ anything soon. Would you like to complain further?”

He shook his head, stumbling backwards, then turned to run. The suddenly nervous crowd had already started to evaporate at seeing what had happened, and she turned back to find Matt also trying to edge away unnoticed.

"Hold!" she called, holding her staff up and freezing him in place. "Enough of your stalling. Where are the heroes I've heard about? The Superfriends, Spiderman and his Amazing Friends, or even Major Glory?"

Matt desperately tried to explain the difference between the comics and cartoons devoted to their exploits and the superheroes themselves.

"What?" she railed, sweeping her arm expressively across the convention floor. "You just draw pictures? All these people are here just to look at PICTURES? I came here to prove myself in combat and shall not be denied. You will all suffer for misleading me."

"Please!" he begged. "It's not like we can control them. If we could make them show up, we would, but they only appear when there's real trouble."

At this she smiled. "Trouble? I can do trouble."


.......................................................................................................................................


Barbara Gordon sat on a rooftop edge, surveying the city from its dizzying perspective. All seemed reasonably calm and quiet, which fit her plans perfectly. She was waiting up there to meet her friend, Kara, and hoped they would be able to relax and have another girls' night out. The vertiginous rendezvous location would have seemed unusual to a casual observer, unless they had recognized the costume of the famous Batgirl.

Not as famous as Batman, of course, but that didn't bother her. What did was the decidedly lower level of respect she commanded, both with the authorities as well as the criminal class. She was sure it was because she was a woman, but that was something both she and Kara, alias Supergirl, had come to expect given their more famous male counterparts. At least it sometimes made kicking astonished male butt more satisfying, and she had a couple of stories she couldn't wait to share with her friend over a pint of Haagen-Daz.

A window shattering a few blocks away dashed her reverie and hopes for an evening off. She localized the site, simultaneously drawing a pair of low-light binoculars. Gotham Hotel. Convention floor. Windows broken, and she could faintly hear people screaming. Her other hand had already drawn her gun to fire a grappling hook and cable. With a muffled explosion, it shot out and secured to a nearby sign, and she was swinging into the darkness towards the commotion.


Inside the hall, people ran in panic from a menacing, Terminator-style robot that was wantonly shooting at booths and displays, with several small fires showing its progress. It raised an arm that sported some kind of weapon instead of a hand, and fired a pulsed energy blast that blew out another window. He then turned glowing red eyes back on the crowd fleeing the room.

The silver-cloaked woman sat unconcernedly nearby, the immobile and thoroughly miserable Matt still involuntarily attending her. She leafed through a pile of spilled comics.

"Why do they fight in groups?" she demanded. "Only the strongest ones should fight so they can see who’s best."

"Um ... I guess the greatest heroes naturally attract others who look up to them, and villains have to have gangs," Matt answered meekly. “It’s sort of a tradition.”

"Gangs?" she asked. She seemed skeptical, but then considered the notion. "I suppose being the leader of others with power could prove one's worth. Hmm." She thought silently for a minute, then became impatient, gesturing irritably at the robot. "Nothing is happening. You have wasted my time again."

"No, please," he pleaded. "Maybe there aren't any around. This isn't Metropolis. You have to understand..."

"Perhaps if I direct it to kill instead of terrify," she suddenly considered. "I had hoped to avoid actual soul letting, but ..."

Before she could finish, the robot was shaken by a flying metal boomerang (batarang) that clanged against it. As it turned to confront the source, they saw a woman in purple tights, cape and cowl standing by the window.

"Sorry, Sparky," she teased. "You're terminated."

Her banter was to misdirect its attention, and the next instant found another metal cable wrapping around the robot's legs. Batgirl pulled on the other end, and the menacing metal figure was roughly upended.

"At last!" the silver-clad woman breathed, a light in her eyes. "Now, to battle." She briefly pointed her staff at the falling robot.

To B's surprise, instead of a loud crash, the robot made a soft "whuff" as it hit. Even more astonishing, it now looked more like a cardboard cut out than a real robot. It lay lifeless and in a decidedly unthreatening manner on the floor.

“What the ...?” she gasped, unable to reconcile the image of the intimidating automaton she was sure she had seen with the cardboard jumble her cable now held prisoner.

“Forgive me.” A scantily clad woman stepped forward. “It was mostly an illusion spell, to attract your attention. It wasn’t designed to really test you.” She bowed slightly. “I am Lilandra the Enchantress. I have come to prove myself in your world. Whom will I have the honor of defeating?”

Batgirl looked around at the ruined room. “You did this? How? Why? Are you crazy?”

“Oh, this? Nothing worth noting. These minor spells are simple enough, but my mastery of magic is incomplete. That is why I must prove myself. I have studied your world through my interception of your coded messages - your so called ‘tee-vee.’ I have decided your greatest warriors would be adequate to test my fledgling powers to the Council’s satisfaction. Now, who are you?” She peered at Batgirl’s pointed cowl ear flaps speculatively. “Are you Catwoman?”

Now, Batgirl was ticked. Catwoman? As if.

“OK, Lilandra,” Batgirl shot back. “I don’t know why you convention nuts pull these pranks, but I have had enough. Why don’t you go back and play with the Klingons or whoever you came with until the police can explain the real world to you. I only hope you can afford the bill this little prank is going to stick you with.”

“Arrogance!” Lilandra hissed. “Enough. You may tell me your name after I defeat you.” She raised her staff, and Batgirl’s cable suddenly unwrapped from the deactivated robot, instantly coiling instead around Batgirl’s legs and body, pinioning her arms and nearly sending her crashing to the floor.

Lilandra smiled, obviously pleased with her herself and waiting for Batgirl’s reaction. This was clearly disappointing to her. Although momentarily stunned by the seeming impossibility of the snare, Batgirl immediately began testing the bonds with trained patience. To Lilandra’s eye, it appeared that she was doing nothing, but Batgirl actually was quite busy. She had almost instantly realized that despite the impressive appearance of the coils binding her, they were haphazardly placed and therefore insecure. She would be able to free herself without too much trouble if she could keep her opponent distracted.

“OK,” Batgirl admitted, as though bored, while subtly loosening her arms. “I’ll admit it’s a cute trick. You do birthday parties, too?”

Lilandra watched her suspiciously, impatient to see Batgirl in action.

“Well?” She demanded. “Aren’t you going to destroy your bonds with a spell or atomic vision or something? Or is your super power strength? Are you waiting to snap them when you think you’ll catch me by surprise? Do something.”

“My power is being able to listen to your drivel without getting sick,” Batgirl taunted. Her right hand was almost free.

Lilandra appeared surprised. “Why, you have no powers at all, do you?” Now she switched to anger again. “You’ve wasted my time, girl!”

A pair of voices interrupted them.

“FREEZE!”

Lilandra turned to find two police officers covering her with drawn weapons. She turned her back on them disparagingly.

“An excellent idea.” With the barest gesture, both officers found themselves paralyzed, unable to even talk. Strangely, however, Matt found his own mobility had returned when she froze them, and he now started to creep slowly away. Lilandra spotted the movement and turned upon him, raising her staff.

“I gave you no leave to depart! Now, you will …”

With a sharp crack, the staff was knocked from her grasp by a flying batarang, clattering to the floor. Matt saw his chance and ran, while Lilandra turned once more in surprise. A freed Batgirl greeted her with a swiping kick and shoulder blow that sent her sprawling.

“By the way, it’s ‘Batgirl’, not ‘girl’,” the caped crimefighter corrected triumphantly. “Buy a guidebook, or something while you’re here. And let’s see if you’re a little more willing to talk softly without your big stick here.” She reached down to pick up the staff.

It turned out to be a mistake. The touch jolted her as though to an electric cable, and she literally flew backwards to lie stunned on the floor, even as Lilandra recovered.

“Staff, to me!” the sorceress called, holding out her hand. The rod flew instantly into her grasp, and she ran her hands along its length in concern, then turned to glare at Batgirl.

“You broke it!” she shrieked. “I’ve lost most of my spells! You little … little …” She trailed off in choked fury, then suddenly calmed down and broke into a wicked smile. “But of course – little would be perfect. THAT magic is intact.” She touched the jewel in her medallion with both hands. As she raised them, a glowing ball of energy appeared between them.

Batgirl recovered just in time to see the ball of light hurtle towards her. She braced for another electric shock, but instead felt a brief dizziness and mild tingling which quickly subsided, yet left her feeling vaguely disoriented. The room looked subtly different, but she couldn’t quite place why. A moan behind them distracted her, and she turned to find the police beginning to move slowly, as the paralysis began to wear off now that the staff was broken. She didn’t see Lilandra form an even larger energy sphere, but did see the flash as it hit them. They barely moved at the impact, still slow and clearly out of the fight, so she realized she was still in this alone for now. She needed to give them a chance to recover, and either get to safety or help. Time to try a new tactic – maybe a gas bomb would slow Lilandra down until Batgirl could move in for a knockout blow. She jumped to her feet, ready to dodge, hand moving smoothly to open the pouch on her utility belt.

It was a well-practiced move, and she probably would have caught Lilandra by surprise, if her utility belt hadn’t eluded her by promptly falling to the floor around her ankles.

She looked down in shock, guessing the clasp must have broken, but there it lay, inexplicably intact. Batgirl normally wore the belt low, where it lay snug and secure against her womanly hips. It couldn’t just slip past them like that.

Lilandra laughed at seeing her face. “A little surprised, are we?” she mocked. “But the fun’s just started.” She made as though to point at her again.

Putting aside her shock, Batgirl reacted reflexively, having no desire to act as a sitting target for whatever other tricks Lilandra might have up her sleeve (if she had worn sleeves). She leapt into a crouching roll, designed to barrel into her opponent’s legs and upset her, but her leap went awry thanks to an unexpectedly loose boot on takeoff. She came up well short of her target – in more ways than one, she discovered when she stood up and found herself eye level to Lilandra’s impressive chest.

“You grew!” she gasped, tilting her head up to look at the smug sorceress’ face, and too shocked to react further.

Lilandra threw her head back to laugh again, then swept her gaze over Batgirl.

“So it would seem, small one. But I must say, you’re the worst dressed superheroine I’ve ever seen.”

Batgirl looked down to follow her gaze. Her normally skin-tight, sexy uniform was wrinkled and baggy. She suddenly noticed that her hands were loose in her gloves, and her fingers no longer filled them. The looseness of her boots took on a suddenly sinister implication, and a quick glance behind showed her cape grazing the floor.

“It’s impossible!” she breathed. “I’m … I’m …”

“Shrinking, yes,” Lilandra agreed. “Not all my powers were centered in the staff, you see. That is the fate that awaits you.” She pointed behind the diminutive crimefighter.

Despite having to take her eyes off her foe, Batgirl couldn’t resist following the gesture. Two piles of clothes marked the spot where the police officers had stood, both moving as the doll-sized occupants struggled to fight their way out of the outgrown uniforms. Batgirl turned to face Lilandra again with her first real fear, and let out a small shriek to see the woman had already prepared another energy sphere, immediately loosed upon her.

Another tingle passed through her body, and she watched in horror as Lilandra’s breasts moved above her line of sight. She had to be under four feet tall, she realized. Her cape now dragged on the floor, and a gap began to form as her loosening costume slipped on smaller shoulders.

“A little at a time,” Lilandra smiled. “Let us see how long and well you can fight now.” Another energy ball began to form.

Her fight reflexes took hold again, and Batgirl spun to deliver a kick at Lilandra’s abdomen. She caught her larger foe by surprise, driving Lilandra’s breath out in an astonished gasp, and the glowing ball dissipated. Unfortunately, physics were against her at this point, and the small crimefighter couldn’t administer the crippling blow she had intended. Indeed, while Lilandra staggered back a couple of steps, it was Batgirl who actually flew backwards from the impact, landing on her small bottom with an undignified “Oof.”

Angered, Lilandra had already started forming another shrinking bolt, and Batgirl rolled instinctively to the side an instant before it hit her spot on the floor. She continued to roll, then came up onto her feet, albeit a bit wobbly thanks to her too large boots. She needed a weapon, preferably something to maintain her distance. If she could just reach her utility belt …

A quick glance showed that Lilandra had taken up position over the belt, and was already forming another energy sphere. Batgirl dove behind a table to act as a shield.

And an instant later, the energy hit her.

She felt her clothes loosen and sag again, her sleeve ends now big enough to slide past her hands. Her pants – normally so tight and flush against her upper costume that it looked like a leotard – began to slip past her smaller hips.

“Hey!” she exclaimed involuntarily, noticing her voice sounded higher.

Lilandra laughed. “Foolish girl. Such mundane objects are no barrier to my magic. As long as I know where you are, you are helpless against me.”

Batgirl dove away from her supposed cover just before another flash of energy exploded there, but tripped again thanks to her now comically large boots and cape, the latter hanging like a bed sheet behind her. Her feet were slipping around inside the loose boots, and she kept half stepping out of them. Deciding they were more hindrance than help, she kicked them off (all too easily, she noticed with a sinking feeling), and sprang away much more nimbly on bare feet, dodging two more bolts. Her pants started to slip as she ran, and she just caught them before they dropped.

Lilandra was firing smaller charges more rapidly now, and despite Batgirl’s somersaulting athletics, a couple of more hit home. She finally slid behind a row of tables, figuring that even if the magic could pass through them, Lilandra couldn’t see to aim effectively. Sure enough, a ball exploded harmlessly a few feet to her side.

Barbara sat listening, her breathing controlled and silent, not moving as two more flashes showed Lilandra testing her, despite the second one hitting close enough to produce a very mild tingle. She looked like a young girl playing dress up in an adult’s Halloween costume, especially the way the bright yellow bat symbol on her chest – usually tight and provocative against her sizable breasts – hung loose and baggy, effectively hiding the womanly curves beneath. The shirtsleeves extended well past her hands, and she rolled up the loose material to free them. Even her cowl was loose, and had shifted to half cover her eyes. She resettled it to clear her vision, getting an even better view of her ludicrously oversize costume. She couldn’t keep her pants on at all without holding them, which left her far too hampered, so she noiselessly slipped the baggy covering off. Her panties started down with them, and at first she pulled them back on, but they were also becoming too loose to wear without constant attention. Unhappily, she added them to her pile of discards. She hardly needed them anyway, since her shirt hung low enough to half cover her thighs. She knelt on otherwise bare legs and tried to peer underneath the posters and banners that hung from the tables.

She could see Lilandra’s sandaled feet walking slowly towards her right flank.

“It’s no good, little one,” the sorceress called cheerfully. “The battle is over. Surrender with honor, and I may let you stay this size.”

No response. A frown came again to Lilandra’s face. This was getting boring now, and she had no desire for a prolonged hide and seek. She cautiously turned the corner at the end of the table row. At first, there was no sign of the costumed crusader, and Lilandra gave vent to a mild oath. Then, she saw it – a piece of exposed cape just peeking out around a box of old comics at the other end. Very clever. It was far too small a hiding place for a normal sized woman, and she wouldn’t have thought to look there for quite a while. She smiled in triumph and prepared her final shrinking spell.

“Tag!” she sang, hurling the energy into a blinding flash.

The energy subsided, the cape never moving. Her feeling of victory evaporated.

“What?” she asked aloud, looking around in confusion.

It saved her, since her peripheral vision picked up movement behind her. She turned to find a child sized figure wearing a laughably oversized shirt and cowl running barefoot to reclaim her utility belt. Batgirl had broken cover from the middle table the instant she realized Lilandra had fallen for her decoy. With her own cry of triumph, she grabbed the belt and somersaulted away, even as another bolt splattered the floor behind her. She came up into a ready position and fumbled at the belt. A couple of gas bombs to hide, then a well-placed batarang …

It was the fumbling that cost her. The oversize belt felt strange to her fingers, and the well-practiced familiarity with its compartments was lost. She had to glance down to reorient herself.

And in that instant, the next spell hit her. The belt seemed to jump in her hands, becoming too large and heavy to hold easily. Desperately, she found the right compartment, but now had to use both hands to open it, using another precious second. It was a second too long: another bolt hit home, and she seemed to fall into herself with a sense of vertigo. Her cowl slipped down over her head, much too large to see out of now, and her shirt felt like a collapsed tent around her. Her hands were still on the belt, but had lost their way again against the huge, smooth surface that now confronted them. When she moved to straighten her cowl, the sleeves fell far past her hands, making her manipulations clumsy and slow. Another tingle, and she was almost in darkness, the cowl lying on top of the shirt puddled on the floor, completely covering her. Forgetting her planned attack, she let her arms slip free of the last of the sleeves, then clawed her way out of her cloth prison to the light coming in the eye holes of her mask.

An 8 inch tall, naked woman stepped into the hood, realizing with shock that she was now small enough to stand fully upright inside her cowl. In fact, she could look out the window sized eye holes without stooping.

A smiling giantess loomed near, frightening and disorienting in her size, too large for her field of vision. Overcome with a sense of helplessness, Batgirl cowered towards the back of the cowl.

But an instant later, that protection was gone, and she blinked up into the amused face of a seemingly 40 foot tall Lilandra, her limp cowl dangling triumphantly from the giantess’ hand. Batgirl scrambled backwards, naked and afraid, as the other hand reached down. It ignored the “un-caped crusader,” however, and instead picked up the crumpled shirt.

“I shall keep these as trophies,” Lilandra announced, then glanced at the dumbfounded doll and gleaming utility belt still lying on the floor. “And this,” she continued, reaching for the belt. Then she stopped and smiled teasingly at Batgirl. “Unless you aren’t done with it?” she asked innocently. “Maybe you intended to use some secret weapon against me? This perhaps?” She reached into the opened compartment and pulled out a gas grenade, walnut-sized to her, but as large as a giant beach ball to Batgirl. She placed it on the floor next to Barbara, then bundled the belt with the rest of the costume. “Take it, little one. I’ll let you have a free shot at me.” She held her arms wide, and smiled, but when Batgirl hesitated, still dazed by the colossal world and woman confronting her, Lilandra repeated more sharply, “Take it!”

Batgirl tried to obey, but the oversized weapon was so heavy and awkwardly big, she could barely hoist it with both arms. It would be like trying to throw a TV set, and she’d never be able to manage more than a few inches distance relative to her attacker. Worse, the usually minor explosion might well prove fatal to her at this scale. Gingerly, she set it back down, then tried to stand as straight and tall as her toy size allowed. She stood proudly, a remarkable if tiny figure. Her grape-sized breasts stood out, pert and perfect, if slightly large for her otherwise trim and athletic body (her friends in school had joked she had two big obstacles to her quest for the city gymnastic crown - well, they could hardly be considered big now). Her only concession to her violated modesty was to place a hand demurely in front of her auburn bush (a perfect match to her beautiful hair).

“You win,” she squeaked, trying to sound self-assured, but secretly dismayed at her mouse-like voice.

“All too easy,” Lilandra agreed, turning away.

“Wait!” Batgirl shouted, her voice barely carrying to her giant opponent. “You can’t leave me like this.”

“But I can.” Lilandra turned back contemptuously. “Your new size befits your puny attempts to best me. There are some doll clothes over by that table.” She gestured impatiently at a pile of spilled action figures. “You won’t be needing your old ones anymore.” She continued to walk away, and Batgirl stared in open-mouthed disbelief, her mind reeling at the horror of living forever at this size, while Lilandra bent to pick up the rest of her costume.

“The first conquest is always sweet,” the sorceress continued. “But I hope to find some worthier foe next time.”

A whooshing sound from outside the window seemed to answer her. A moment later, a teenage girl wearing a very short, blue skirt, white crop top emblazoned with a large “S,” white gloves, and red boots and cape literally flew into the room.

“Supergirl!” Barbara thought in frantic relief. Now Lilandra would learn what it meant to tangle with the girl power team.

Alas, if she only knew …

End part 1

[TheoW]

Girls Night Out II

by Nomdreserv and the Dark Oni

Part 2

Supergirl had arrived at the appointed rendezvous spot to meet Batgirl, with no sign of the caped crusader. However, her keen hearing had detected some shouts and strange noises, and a quick scan of the area had turned up the broken windows of the nearby hotel, along with irregular flashes of an other-worldly light. She immediately flew down and into the room, cluttered with spilled and damaged goods, to find a solitary (or so it seemed) occupant – a strikingly if scantily clad woman whose face lit up at the sight of the superheroine.

“Another one,” Lilandra exclaimed. “And one gifted with flight. You should prove a worthier foe than this one.” She gestured at the costume in her hand.

Supergirl’s eyes went wide at the sight of the bright, yellow stylized bat on the front.

“Where did you get that?” she demanded, starting to fly towards Lilandra.

“Hold!” Lilandra held up her hand. “We must observe the rules before battle. I am Lilandra the Enchantress, come to prove myself in glorious battle and triumph. Now, you must tell me who you are, and perhaps add some witty remark to lighten the mood, before I best you in personal combat.”

“What are you talking about?” the Argosian asked, hovering uncertainly in the air. (Author’s note: Argos was a sister planet to Krypton, and briefly survived the latter’s destruction. An Argosian’s powers on Earth are similar to the more famous Kryptonian’s.) “Are you nuts? What’s going on here? Is this part of the comics’ show?”

Lilandra frowned and stamped her foot. “No! That’s not it. You’re not doing this right! Just like that stupid Batgirl.”

At the name, Supergirl flew forward the rest of the way, catching Lilandra’s hand in an unbreakable grip.

“OK, sister, that’s it. Now you’re gonna tell me everything, starting with how you got that costume you’re holding in your hand.”

“Ouch!” Lilandra complained, twisting. “Stop that – you’re hurting me.”

The grip tightened. “Now!” Supergirl warned.

“Oh, all right,” Lilandra sighed. “I had hoped to avoid this except as a last resort, but …”

Her hands moved slightly, and she gestured with the ring on her right hand.

A second later, Supergirl was astonished as an incredible force gripped her body, pinning her arms and squeezing her like a vise. She released Lilandra to try to free herself, and looked down to gape at a giant, seemingly disembodied, glowing yellow hand holding her. It squeezed harder, forcing the breath out of even her super-powered frame.

“Behold the Hand of Fate,” Lilandra intoned, then paused, frowning. “No, that sounds lame. The Fingers of Force? No, gross. The Fist of …” She continued absentmindedly as Supergirl floated slowly away, caught in the inexorable force grip. “You can make suggestions if you want,” Lilandra continued hopefully. “I modeled it after the Green Lantern’s ring, but made it yellow since green is icky.” She waited silently a few seconds while Supergirl struggled futilely. “Oh, I’m sorry. You’re busy. Would you like to yield now, or shall I taunt you some more? It’s up to you.”

Supergirl pushed with all her might against the imprisoning force, but with no leverage, it was too much for even her super strength. Suddenly, she stopped, remembering Lilandra’s mention of a ring as the source. The woman wore several, but seemed to be holding one on her right hand out slightly. Supergirl focused on it with her heat vision.

“Hey.” Lilandra looked at her hand in surprise. “Ouch. OWW!” Too late, she guessed the purpose of Supergirl’s intent expression. “Stop that. OWWWW! Stop it! Or … I’ll crush you!”

She probably would have tried, but her lapse in concentration had weakened the grip enough for Supergirl to move her arms up. Now, braced, she was able to bring the full force of her superhuman strength to bear, and she strained anew at the monstrous hand imprisoning her. She could feel the fingers move apart slightly, releasing the stranglehold that had choked her. Evidently, this created some kind of feedback to Lilandra, since her eyes now went wide with surprise.

“Oomph. Stop struggling. Stop …” Her eyes closed in concentration., and her face twisted. “No … fair. Arghhh!” The giant, glowing fingers began to inexorably part around the mighty Argosian. “You … can’t … no … way … I … OWWW!”

She staggered back, clearly shaken, and Supergirl threw open the weakening fingers with a cry of triumph. When the hand made as though to reach for her again, she decided to try the direct approach, and swung with all her might into a wall-shattering blow,

There was a blinding flash, and an electric shock knocked her to the far wall, cracking the plaster badly. Still dazed, she looked up to see no sign of the hand, and Lilandra slumped to the floor, a broken ring lying beside her. The sorceress picked it up, her eyes close to tears.

“No … fair,” she repeated softly and mournfully to herself. “My favorite ring. All that magic gone. No fair! Stupid, stupid girl!” Her chest heaved, leaving the almost recovered Supergirl perplexed at the unexpected emotion. She didn’t even react as Lilandra’s hand stole towards the medallion at her breast.

But Batgirl did. She had run to shelter and stayed quietly out of the way during the battle, still stunned by her shrinking, and frightened by the giants around her (one unwatched step or sudden fall would have been enough to dispatch the usually intrepid crimefighter). She was also frankly unwilling to draw attention to her small, naked form until she had to, feeling even more embarrassed than her nudity alone could explain. Nonetheless, she had to warn her friend about the medallion.

“Supergirl, watch out!” she called as loudly as she could, hoping her voice would carry what seemed to her to be about a hundred feet.

Supergirl jumped in surprise, then turned, her keen hearing quickly localizing the high-pitched squeak, but with no sign of the speaker. At least at first. A movement near the floor caught her eye, and she saw what appeared to be a naked doll waving at her. The doll looked familiar, almost like … but that was impossible! She flew over immediately, briefly forgetting the crying sorceress. She gasped at what she saw.

An unmistakable figure with auburn hair looked up at her with obvious embarrassment, both at her size and nudity, tiny hands fluttering over her breasts and pubic area. She was blushing, but also seemed desperate about something.

“Barbara? I mean, Bat … no, wait,” Supergirl floundered. Barbara was naked, so her identity was hardly hidden, but the costume Lilandra carried implied she had been in her Batgirl persona. “How did …?”

“Never mind!” Batgirl squealed. “Duck!”

Supergirl did, and just missed being hit by an energy sphere.

“That’s how she shrank me,” Batgirl called desperately. “She’s got some kind of shrinking magic in her medallion.”

Supergirl dodged another bolt, her speed and flying ability now that she was alerted more than a match to Lilandra’s casting.

“I’m on it,” Supergirl replied, trying to keep her concentration while getting over the shock of talking to an eight inch tall Batgirl. It was hard not to stare.

There was a blur of super speed. Lilandra felt a tug at her neck, and suddenly found her spell focus gone. She grabbed at the bare skin of her neck.

“My medallion!” she cried. “Give it back!”

“I don’t think so,” Supergirl replied smugly, dangling it from her index finger as she hovered a few feet away. “Now, let’s talk about you undoing everything you’ve done before I have to get rough.”

“You don’t scare me,” Lilandra announced defiantly, then gave a small shriek as Supergirl flew closer. Her hand touched the jewel in her crown.

It was as though she became a figure of fog. Her outline softened and shimmered, and Supergirl realized with shock that she could actually see vaguely through her body. Tentatively, she reached out to grab Lilandra’s arm, and her eyes went wide as her hand passed right through it.

“Ha, ha!” Lilandra taunted. “I’m intangible. You can’t hurt me now.”

Two more arm passes through her body convinced Supergirl. On the other hand, Lilandra made no further move to attack her either. A growing realization made her cross her arms in a waiting pose.

“And you can’t hurt me, can you?”

Lilandra remained silent, but the admission showed in her expression.

“Stalemate,” Supergirl decided. She floated to the ground. “OK, we wait. So, how long can you stay like that?”

A worried expression came over Lilandra’s face.

“Not long, huh?” Supergirl was smug again. “Fine. Any time you’re ready, we can pick up where we left off.”

Meanwhile, Batgirl had decided she’d had enough of being a helpless spectator, and a naked one at that. Looking around, she spotted the spilled toys and action figures Lilandra had mentioned earlier. As embarrassing at it was, she realized doll clothes were her best option at the moment, and with a resigned sigh, she walked over.

“Let’s see.” She started examining the boxes. “Wonder Woman – no, you’d need an amazonian figure to carry that one off. Maxima - yeah right. Boy, that’s gotta be cold in the winter. Jade? No way. There's more material in the boots and gloves than the rest of the costume combined. Geez, how is this thing supposed to even stay up? Hey, what the …?” She was confronted by a neatly packaged doll wearing a vacuous smile and a familiar purple uniform with a bright yellow symbol on the front. “No way!” But she couldn’t deny her eyes – she was an action figure.

There was no doubt part of her was pleased. It seemed an endorsement of her place among the elite, and proof that all her hard work and the dangers she had faced were being recognized. On the other hand, she felt angry. She tried to pretend it was due to the feeling of privacy violation, but deep down knew that superheroes gave up those rights as public figures. What really bothered her was the doll’s standard Barbie figure and smiling expression that made her look like a brainless bimbo in a cowl, her major mission in life no doubt the quest for full-bodied hair and a full shopping bag.

Well, she’d worry about complaints to the manufacturer later. Right now, she just hoped they used some reasonably wearable material so she could borrow her namesake’s costume. Alas, even this proved beyond her reduced means for the moment. She pulled and kicked at the cardboard and plastic to no avail. In fact, she could barely indent the inch-thick (to her) plastic wrapping, and realized with a sinking feeling that the famous Batgirl didn’t even have the strength to open a child’s toy.

Now fate (and an author’s devious imagination), intervened again. Across the hall from the comic convention, and relatively undisturbed by the earlier commotion, was a “USA Girl” doll fair. One of its younger attendees, a five year old named Jenny, had grown tired of the "boring" dolls that so entranced her sisters (and mother), and wandered out to explore on her own. The open doors of the comic hall beckoned, and she peeked inside to see two strangely dressed figures confronting each other silently, one seeming to float in the air, and the other looking like one of those holograms from the movies. This was seriously cool stuff, and she edged in to get a closer look. Unfortunately, they didn’t seem in any great hurry to do something more exciting, and she started to look around the rest of the disheveled room. A small motion by some boxes on the floor caught her eye. A little doll was beating on one of the packages, and Jenny could just hear a tiny voice complaining. Intrigued, she crept closer.

Batgirl had pretty much given up on opening the box, and slumped in defeat against its side, smaller than her “official” picture on the cardboard. Looked like she was going to stay naked until Supergirl could give her a hand. Talk about helpless – “Supergirl, could you open up this toy for me? Thanks.” Geez. Just then, a looming shadow made her gasp.

Jenny couldn’t believe her eyes. This was the most realistic looking doll she’d ever seen. It even had hair at her privates, like Mommy, and tiny nipples on the breasts. And it moved just like a real girl. Wait until she showed her sisters. She reached down to grab it.

Batgirl shrieked as a giant hand reached for her.

Jenny screamed in response, and jumped back as though bitten.

And Supergirl turned to find her friend apparently menaced by a five year old. She flew over like a shot.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded of Jenny.

The girl reacted the way any five year old confronted by a strange, angry – not to mention flying – authority figure would. She burst into tears.

Supergirl immediately softened, and floated down to hug the girl reassuringly.

“Sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to yell. I thought my friend was in trouble.”

Jenny sniffed, gazing awestruck at the caped heroine.

“You’re Supergirl, aren’t you?” she asked timidly.

Supergirl nodded, smiling.

“I’m Jenny. Is this your dolly?” Jenny pointed at Barbara, who responded by putting her hands on her hips and harrumphing.

“No … I mean, yes, I guess so,” Supergirl admitted, trying to make things understandable to the young girl. Batgirl caught on and remained silent.

“She’s pretty,” Jenny said, brightening. “But she looks funny naked. You should put some clothes on her.”

Barbara blushed, and Supergirl couldn’t help laughing. “You’re right, Jenny, but I’m sort of busy right now, and …”

“Ooh. Sparkly,” Jenny said, looking over Supergirl’s shoulder.

“Wha …?” Supergirl started to ask, turning around.

Lilandra had greeted the girl’s interruption with great relief. Her intangibility spell was almost exhausted, and she was running out of options. Unfortunately for Supergirl, one of those options was localized to a ring on her left hand. She materialized, waved her hands over it to fix the matrix, then formed a large, glittering silver energy sphere, which she promptly hurled at the preoccupied superheroine.

Supergirl turned just as it hit. An intense tingle moved through her body, and she was briefly dazed, dropping the medallion she held. Recovering almost instantly, she shot back across the room to face Lilandra. The sorceress wore a smug expression as she reverted to intangibility.

“I win!” she crowed.

Supergirl looked her squarely in the eye.

“Oh, really? How do you figure that, sister?”

Lilandra stared at her carefully for several seconds before answering, then seemed to relax and smiled serenely.

“Since you seem to like playing with dolls, I thought you should look the part. And I told you, my name is Lilandra. Are you really Supergirl? That’s what that girl called you, but everyone knows Supergirl is an artificial being, some kind of living matrix, and she wears a blue uniform like Superman, but with red skirt and cape.”

“Oh, please!” Supergirl rolled her eyes, not noticing she was now looking up slightly at Lilandra. “What planet are you from? A living matrix? Like, NOT!” Though, to be honest, she didn't even know what a living matrix was. What she did know was that the sorceress was beginning to look a bit more substantial. “And, like, I think your disappearing act is wearing off, Lilandra. Got any more tricks you want to try?"”

Supergirl was now clearly several inches shorter than Lilandra, but other, even more dramatic changes were also becoming obvious. It was Batgirl who noticed them first.

She squinted, studying her friend curiously. At first, Lilandra’s magic had seemed to have no effect. Then, it seemed Supergirl might also have fallen victim to a shrinking spell, as Batgirl could see her very slowly losing height relative to her opponent. Now, she gasped, as she could see Supergirl’s breasts starting to dwindle, barely pushing out the “S” emblazoned on her uniform. Her legs thinned, losing roundness in the thighs and calves, and her skirt began to settle lower, no longer the micro-mini it had started.

“Supergirl!” she screamed, startling Jenny who was also watching in amazement.

“What?” Supergirl turned a freckled young face towards her – wide eyes and button nose giving her a childish look – a look her body was fast emulating.

“You’re getting younger!” Batgirl yelled. “She’s turning you into a kid!”

“What!” Supergirl repeated in a different tone, turning back to confront the suddenly confident and much larger appearing Lilandra. Supergirl was chin level to her now, and Lilandra laughed at her expression as the truth hit home.

Supergirl looked down to see her breasts retreating through early adolescence, the “S” on her shirt flattening before her eyes. Even as she watched, they disappeared entirely, leaving her gaping in disbelief. Her formerly provocative crop top mocked her as it settled lower on her flat chest, the gap between it and her skirt all but disappearing. The skirt itself had crept down to just above knee level, and hung loosely on narrowing hips as she passed through to the wrong side of puberty. Her now too large boots began to droop on skinny little legs. She looked like a little girl dressing in her older sister’s clothes, to ridiculous effect.

“Eeeep!” she cried, grabbing at her slipping skirt in embarrassment, afraid of what it might reveal. Thinking proximity to Lilandra might be causing the change, she leapt into the air and retreated towards Batgirl, not noticing how wobbly her flight was. She might not have cared if she had. Her mind was becoming confused, and she felt an unaccustomed and irrational fear - as though she really was a little girl. The combination left her disoriented and tentative.

“Help!” the nine year old begged her friend. “What should I do?”

“You’re asking me?” the doll-sized woman asked in disbelief. She saw a movement and realized Lilandra had materialized again. Batgirl pointed at the sorceress. “SHE’S the one who can stop all this, Supergirl. Get her!”

The eight year old turned again, to see Lilandra, temptingly solid again, laughing at her. It was all the motivation she needed to restore her purpose. Anger flushed her cheeks, and she leapt confidently into the air to attack their opponent.

And promptly fell to the floor.

Astonished, the small blonde gingerly climbed to her feet, hesitated a second, then jumped again into the air. She hovered uncertainly a few desperate moments, then dropped heavily to the ground. The impact dislodged the tenuous hold her skirt still claimed to her hips, and it fell to the ground, revealing red panties beneath.

“Hey,” Supergirl complained mournfully, near tears. “I can’t fly.”

“Duh!” Lilandra mocked, almost doubled over in laughter. “Oh, you should see your face, Super-GIRL.”

The superheroine’s face flushed again, and the tears disappeared. Her hands clenched into fists (emphasizing the clown-like size of her formerly stylish accent gloves), and she ran at her opponent in flopping, oversized boots.

“You stop it!” she demanded.

Lilandra had been laughing so hard, and feeling so confident given the undersized and underaged appearance of her foe, she was caught by surprise. Supergirl’s fist drove into her abdomen, doubling her over this time in pain, and knocking her back several feet.

Supergirl stood and glared at her. Lilandra felt a warmth at her belt, but then it cooled.

“So, lost your heat vision, too, huh? Serves you right” the sorceress finally managed spitefully after catching her breath. “But still awfully strong for such a little squirt.”

As if eager to redemonstrate the point, the seven year old advanced with an incongruously baleful expression on her angelic face. Lilandra paled and touched her crown again. Her body flickered, then stabilized, and she realized with panic that her intangibility spell was exhausted. She scrambled back away from the terrifying tot, then reached for her belt.

“I’ll be back,” she announced defiantly, attempting bravado to cover her retreat. She glanced at Batgirl and Jenny. “Hope one of you knows how to change diapers.” She touched the gem at her belt clasp, and immediately disappeared in a flash of light.

A thoroughly miserable and bewildered Supergirl searched to no avail, and finally returned to the others. Her short cape was now waist level, highlighting a baggy shirt with its wrinkled “S” sagging on her flat, small chest. Her boots flopped with a sad, hollow sound. She was having more and more trouble keeping her thoughts straight, and instead of anger, felt increasingly helpless and afraid.

“Barbara?” she asked, no longer worrying about secret identities. “What am I gonna do? I no wanna be widdle ... I mean, liddle ... you know, WITTLE.” She gave up, starting to feel every bit the forlorn little girl she looked.

“First, SUPERGIRL,” Batgirl spoke with emphasis to reestablish their code. “We’ve got to get out of here and get help. Help me open that box so I can get dressed.”

“’Kay,” the five year old agreed, happy that someone was in charge, and tearing open the package effortlessly. She held up the doll and giggled. “It looks just like you.”

“Yeah, right,” Batgirl said unhappily. “Just give me the clothes, OK?”

Jenny looked at them both in amazement.

“Hey, your dolly really talks,” Jenny said, eyes wide, used to the usual stock words and empty phrases of talking dolls.

Supergirl nodded solemnly. “That’s cuz she’s really ... um, really my friend.”

“What’s her name?”

“Bawbawa ... BARbawa ...”

“Barbie?” Jenny asked helpfully. Supergirl nodded, that was close enough. “Cool. I gots a Barbie at home, but she can’t talk.”

Supergirl beamed. Her dolly ... er, friend, was better than Jenny’s. She knew something was wrong with that thought, but right now, the distinction between dolls and people, fantasy and reality, was becoming a bit blurred.

“How come you got small, like me,” Jenny asked, watching Supergirl continue to shrink slowly.

Supergirl frowned. It was getting so hard to think, and to be honest, she couldn't have explained exactly how it was possible anyway.

“Was it so you could be my friend?” Jenny's gaze fell once more in fascination to her hoped for friend's remarkable "toy."

Supergirl pondered. No, that wasn’t it, was it? Something else. But Jenny did seem nice. Maybe they could be friends after all.

An increasingly impatient and uncomfortable Batgirl noticed Jenny staring at her again, and she suddenly felt more naked than ever under her obviously appraising eyes.

“Um, Supergirl? Any time.” Batgirl prodded.

“She’s neat,” Jenny decided. “Can I have her?”

“Now listen here, kid,” Batgirl peeped. “I am not a toy. And I am not about ....EEK!”

The last was elicited by Jenny’s suddenly reaching down and scooping up the tiny woman into her hand. Batgirl pounded frantically and uselessly at the child’s fingers, helpless in the girl’s fortunately gentle grasp. Jenny pushed and probed experimentally as Barabara blushed fiery red in frustration and embarrassment.

“She’s got really soft skin. And she wiggles. She’s lots better than my Barbie.” Jenny pronounced. “I’ll trade ya. Pleasssse?”

“No ...” Supergirl hesitated, then shook her head decisively. “She’s MY friend. Mine! I want to hold her. Give her back.” She held out her hand, and the other girl reluctantly handed her over.

“Can I just play with her then? We can still be friends,” Jenny persisted.

Supergirl, now three years old and slipping, tried to think. Something still bothered her about the idea, but this nice older girl was offering to play with her, and she felt flattered.

“Supergirl!” Batgirl squeaked frantically, seeing the confusion on her face. “Snap out of it! We need to regroup and formulate a plan ...”

The tiny woman prattled on, but Kara lost interest and simply stared at her blankly, wishing she wouldn’t use such big words, or talk like she was the boss. In fact, she started to giggle as Batgirl lectured her. She looked so silly, all serious and cross, tiny hands waving, but with her little, squeaky voice and standing there naked. Naked. Uh oh - that wasn't right. Little dolls and girls weren’t supposed to be naked. She looked again at the action figure and clothes in her hand. Jenny saw them too, and guessed her intent.

“Can I help dress her?” she asked eagerly.

Batgirl paled. “What are you talking about?” she piped out in horror. “Supergirl - Kara - I can dress myself.”

“Uh, uh,” the little blond girl shook her head stubbornly. “Wanna play dress up.” She hoped her firm handling of the situation would impress her new friend. She briefly set Batgirl down while she started stripping the doll. “You gots to play wif us, Ba ... Bar ... Babawa. Cuz, um ... I say so, and it'll be fun.” As she pulled off the doll's clothes, she kicked off her own oversize boots and sat down on the floor bare legged. “OK,” she announced to Jenny. “You can have the boots and pants, and I get the top and the ... the mask thingy.”

A two year old Supergirl, clad now only in a baggy shirt, ridiculously oversized cape, and loose panties, dispensed the doll clothes with cheerful innocence. First play, then worry about the mean lady, Li...Lil ... whatever her name was. She carefully laid out the doll clothes, then happily reached again for Barbara.

Batgirl wilted. Things couldn’t get much worse.

“Oooh,” Jenny said, holding up the Wonder Woman doll and her bright, sparkling costume. “How about this one?”

Then again ...

End part 2

Copyright 1999 by Nomdreserv

[TheoW]

"Girls Night Out II"

by The Dark Oni and Nomdreserv

part three.

Poison Ivy inhaled deeply and steadied herself as she slowly reached for her target. It had taken the better part of an hour but she was almost done, her twisted masterpiece taking form.

"Now my sweet, just one more adjustment." she whispered, concentrating on her work. She was almost finished when an annoyed voice loudly cut in from behind.

"Hey Red! I'm bored!" Harley Quinn yelled, causing Ivy to jerk in surprise and violently close the clippers in her hand shut.

"Noooo!" Ivy cried in despair. "My baby! My poor baby!" The evil Poison Ivy, supervillain and all around bad girl, seemed close to tears as she gazed upon the ruined form of her prized bonsai tree.

"Oh my. He doesn't look so good does he?" Harley stated, noticing the tree was now missing about half of it's bulk. Harley was in civilian clothes right now. Her makeup was off and she had her blonde hair tied up in two pigtails. Her clothing consisted of a black and white striped T-shirt, a pair of short blue overalls and nothing else.

Ivy, of course, was in her typical evil villainess costume. Green strapless body suit, tights, gloves and boots, with her long red hair flowing freely down her back.

"No Harl, he doesn't." Ivy replied calmly, her tone sarcastic. "And why would that be? Could it be because....YOU SHOUTED RIGHT IN MY EAR?" she finished loudly, grabbing Harley by a pigtail and returning the favor to her ear drums as the blonde gritted her teeth in pain.

"Owww!" the blonde yelled, covering her ears and jerking back from her friend. "Hey, don't blame me. It's your fault for keeping us cooped up in this stupid plant house and making me bored out of my skull. I wanna do something. Hey, I know, lets go after Batgirl! Can we, can we, can we?" Harley finished, jumping up and down.

Ivy placed her hand over her face and sighed. "For the hundredth time Harl, it's called a nursery and the reason we're 'cooped up' here is so we can lay low. That's why I bought the place."

"But I hate laying low."

"Too bad. If we hadn't been able to convince the jury that Live Wire forced us on that last crime spree we'd still be in Arkham. I for one would like to relax a little before putting my freedom in danger again." Ivy stated.

A third voice entered the conversation. "So you'd rather play with you plants than prove yourself in battle? How pathetic."

Both Ivy and Harley looked towards the voice to see a scantily clad figure walking down an aisle towards them.

"We're closed. Who are you?" Ivy demanded.

The figure posed for dramatic effect, putting her hands on her hips before responding. "I am Lilandra the Enchantress. I am the new leader of your gang."

Ivy's face took on a confused look as she thought, "Gang?"

Harley, on the other hand, seemed happy. "Cool! Finally some action. Let's kick her ass Red."

"Hold on a second Harl." Ivy said, holding out a hand to restrain her friend. To Lilandra she asked, "How did you find us and what in the world do you mean by 'gang'?"

Lilandra seemed surprised. "I saw a story on Gotham Today that said Poison Ivy had bought this nursery. You two ARE Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn aren't you?" she finished, genuinely worried.

"That's right. Owww!" Harley commented, receiving a smack in the back of her head and a glare from Ivy for her loose lips.

Lilandra ignored the exchange and happily continued, "You are supervillains then. I've just returned from fighting two superheroes, and doing rather well I might add, and I decided it would be fun to command others in combat against more heroes."

"You fought somebody?" Ivy asked. "Who?"

"They called themselves Batgirl and Supergirl. Here, I kept the blue one's cowl as a trophy." Reaching under her cape Lilandra pulled out the cowl and held it up.

Ivy had no idea where on that skimpy costume Lilandra could have hidden such a thing but there was no doubt it was Batgirl's.

Harley's reaction was explosive. "You beat Batgirl and Supergirl? Hey, no fair! Those two are ours."

Lilandra was taken back by the outburst. "Um, I see. Well, they still live. I, uh, humiliated them and left so that they could wallow in their defeat. They were no threat to me. We could finish them together if you'd like."

"All right! Sounds great to me." Harley exclaimed. "Hey Red, we've got a new playmate.

Ivy had finally caught up with the conversation and held her arms up to hold off any more. "Now hold on just one darn minute!"

Turning to her friend she pointed a finger right in the blonde's face before saying, "Harl, we are not going anywhere or doing anything with somebody we don't even know. It was a disaster last time."

"Awww, you never let us have any fun." Harley pouted while rubbing her bare foot against the floor.

Ivy ignored her and spun to face the newcomer. "And you!" she angrily continued. "You don't just barge in here shouting orders. I'm in charge here and I say you can go on your merry way. Now!"

Ivy wasn't surprised when Lilandra laughed. "It would seem we have a problem here. Excellent. Since you object to my authority I will battle you for the command of this gang."

"There is no gang!" Ivy protested, seemingly close to losing it. "My friend and I are simply trying to live honest lives."

"We are?"

"Yes Harley, we are." Ivy said forcefully.

"Oh, yeah, we are." Harley agreed.

"I see. Very well then. If you two are too cowardly to join me I suppose I don't need you." Lilandra commented. Appraising Poison Ivy critically with her eyes she added, "I doubt if you would have put up much of a fight anyway."

Poison Ivy's expression immediately changed to one of anger. "What did you say?"

"Well, look at you. If you were an accomplished villain would you be hiding out in such a place? I mean, how many plants can one stand? Yes, I definitely wasted my time coming here. You would have been no challenge."

"Ooooo, a challenge." Ivy purred, her green eyes sparkling.

Without a word the vines around Lilandra sprang to life and wrapped around the legs and body of the surprised enchantress.

"So, you control plants. How fitting." the sorceress spoke before touching the ring on her left hand. "You'll find what I control to be a bit more impressive."

A golden ball formed around Lilandra's hand and grew to encompass her entire body, then disappeared in an instant. The woman smiled, despite the fact she was still imprisoned. Then the vines quickly grew brown and thinned, eventually withering away to dust.

A grinning Lilandra gloated, "It that the best you can do? Because if...ahhhh!" The enchantress dodged frantically as barrel sized Venus fly trap-like plants began snapping at her. Jumping back from them she touched her ring again and another golden ball flew out at the attacking heads. Within moments they'd suffered the same fate as the vines.

"How rude!" Lilandra shouted. "You didn't give me any time to use my witty banter."

Ivy ignored her. "Harl, I'm going to need some help here. Try to circle around and..."

"Red, look out!" her blonde friend shouted.

Poison Ivy rolled to the ground as a silver ball passed over her. As she rose again she dug into a pocket to pull out a batch of seeds. If her attacker used that aging magic on her again she'd find a bunch of very angry, enchantress eating plants flying her way.

Lilandra though, had seemed to have enough. She fired a rapid stream of silver balls at Ivy who threw the seeds in response. As she dodged, Ivy saw the seeds fly through a ball and quickly....disappear. She didn't have time to figure out why before another one of the balls ripped through her leg.

Ivy felt dizzy and there was a tingling to her skin. She also had the strange feeling her clothes were growing. Rising to her feet she noticed how loose her boots felt. A wide eyed Harley Quinn was staring at her in shock. What bothered Ivy was she had to look up at her friend.

"Harl, what's....eeep?" she squeaked before her hands quickly covered her mouth. A second later a cool draft blew across her chest. Her suddenly bare chest.

Slowly tilting her head down in fear Ivy saw that she no longer filled her strapless costume. Instead, two small, pert breasts were completely exposed to the air. In a rush of shock, she understood why her seeds had vanished.

Before Ivy could do anything a large silver ball slammed hard into her, causing another intense tingling sensation. Ivy watched as her unfamiliar breasts flattened into her chest and the floor became closer.

Harley, for her part, was simply amazed at what she'd seen. At first she'd noticed that her friend's face looked a bit fresher. By the time Ivy was on her feet though she looked like a young teenager, her limbs thinner and her features cuter.

Harley had been so shocked that she hadn't even noticed the second ball coming. After that the normally talkative blonde simply watched as Ivy rapidly lost height and curves.

"Nooooo! Make it stop! Make it stop!!" a frantic Ivy squealed over and over in her ever rising voice.

Tears quickly formed in her eyes as her womanly charms vanished. Her once round ass dwindled and became hidden beneath the folds of her tights. At the same time her visible chest completely flattened, her once proud mounds finally replaced by a pair of small pink nipples. Her long red hair shortened as well, eventually stopping at shoulder length.

When it finally ended, a very adorable eight year old Poison Ivy was standing in an outfit that literally hung on her as she desperately tried to keep it on.

Little Ivy then looked up with tear stained cheeks, breaking Harley out of her trance. "Harl!? What happened? Why am I so small? What's going on here?" the frightened little girl whined.

"Yes! I win." Lilandra celebrated, walking over to the pair. She mentally noted that boosting the power level of the spell had caused the regression to go much more quickly then it had on Supergirl.

"Harl." little Ivy said fearfully as her attacker approached. "I don't like her. Make her go away." Little Ivy was very scared and while she could no longer understand what had happened to her she definitely knew who had done it.

"You don't hold power here anymore little girl." Lilandra commented, causing the child to hide behind Harley.

"Hey, magic girl. Change her back!" Harley demanded.

"In good time. She needs to learn a lesson first as to who's in charge now. Don't worry, she's fine. I did the same thing to Supergirl in fact." Lilandra boasted.

"You did?" Harley asked surprisingly. Her angry features slowly gave way to concentration. "Hmmmmm. Maybe this gang thing isn't such a bad idea."

"Harl no. I don't like this. Please don't do it. Something bad'll happen." Ivy pleaded in her tinny voice as she cowered behind Harley's leg. Ivy was now eye level to her friend's stomach and truly looked the part of a helpless little girl.

Harley grinned playfully and patted Ivy on the head. "Don't worry your pretty little red head sweetie. Auntie Harley knows best now." Harley liked the idea of being able to tell her normally bossy friend what to do.

Ivy reacted angrily to the comment however and glared up at Harley. "No you don't. This is stupid. I wanna be big again, now!" she finished, kicking Harley in the leg.

"Owww. Why you little brat!" Harley yelled, reaching for her partner. The little girl squealed in fear and ran but didn't get far as she toppled over her oversized boots, losing them.

"Excuse me. This'll only take a moment." Harley cheerfully spoke to Lilandra. She then grabbed the child by the arm and dragged her over to a chair. Pulling the girl over her knee she began to spank Ivy's bottom in earnest though her now huge costume.

Ivy cried hard as Harley's hand smacked loudly against her tender bottom. After a dozen swats Harley let the now bawling child go and said simply, "You shouldn't hit people Red. It's bad. Now don't move or I'll whack you again."

Getting up she left the crying Ivy on the ground and asked Lilandra happily, "Now, where were we?"

"Very nice." the sorceress commented.

"Nothing really. Had a few child psychology courses. Y'know, back when I was sane."

"Oh." Lilandra said worriedly then quickly steadied herself. "We were about to finish off Batgirl and Supergirl."

An idea then came to Harley's twisted mind. "Oh yeah, about that. You might want to get a little help. There's this chick called Live Wire up in Metropolis prison who would come in handy."

"Hmmm, I suppose it WOULD be more fun to command three than two and retrieving her WOULD give that one the time she needs to learn her place." Lilandra reasoned, indicating the still sobbing Ivy. Looking at Harley the enchantress asked, "She won't have a problem following orders like Poison Ivy did will she?"

"Nope. She'll fall right in line. You won't have to punish her at all." Harley lied, smiling widely in the process.

"Good, I shall go retrieve her then. You watch the little one." Lilandra ordered.

"Oh, before you go then." Harley cut in. She glanced back at her small friend and a mischievous grin appeared on her face. "Just to make it easier to look after her, would it be possible to make Red a little, littler?"

"That would be easy. How's this?" the sorceress asked, forming a silver ball in her hand.

Ivy, for her part, was still shocked that her friend had spanked her. She was on her hands and knees in tears, desperately trying to regain control of herself and too afraid to move because of Harley's threat.

Just as she managed to look up however she saw the ball in Lilandra's hand and screamed as it flew at her. When the ball struck she fell back on her bottom and started to shrink again, her screams increasing in pitch.

The body of her costume immediately collapsed to her waist as her torso dwindled. Holding her hands in front of her she watched her gloves slide off, then saw her fingers shorten and become chubby. Her bare feet shrank as well as they were pulled towards her body by her shortening legs, finally vanishing beneath the folds of her costume. Eventually her screams turned into a baby's cry as her red hair shortened and pointed at the top of her little head like a turnip. When it was over a ten month old Poison Ivy sat in a pile of green clothing, her toothless mouth open in an infant's scream.

Harley skipped over to the baby and giggled as she picked the naked child up. Ivy was still screaming and kicked her chubby legs uselessly in the air.

"Oooooh, she's sooo cute!" Harley exclaimed. "And her head looks just like a troll doll's." Holding the crying child close Harley began to twist her body back and forth. She then said, "I will love her and pet her and call her Georgette."

"That would be fine." Lilandra stated seriously. "Now if you'll excuse me, while my teleportation spell can get me to Metropolis quickly, it might take me a while to attack the prison and find this 'Living Wire' person.

"Take your time." Harley shouted, not bothering to turn her head. She didn't even notice the sorceress leave as she gushed over her new plaything. She made faces and cooed at the infant Ivy until her crying stopped. Finally, a wide eyed, tongue sticking out of the mouth face made the baby laugh.

"See Red, it can be fun with me in charge. Hey, you were right, this place really is a nursery." Looking around at the plants surrounding her Harley added, "Well, not quite yet. Hey Red, how about we go out and do a little shopping? No arguments?"

The baby giggled in response and Harley felt a warmth against her stomach. Little Ivy had watered her. Holding the wet child away from her Harley remarked, "I'll take that as a yes. By the way, I think you might need a new wardrobe. Yes you do!"

end part 3

[TheoW]

Girls Night Out II

by Nomdreserv and the Dark Oni

Part 4

A half hour’s time found the two young girls still playing happily with their special “doll.” Jenny now took the lead in their play, since Supergirl had regressed to the point of barely being verbal or able to walk. She had shucked her oversized shirt and cape, and sat, more baby than girl in her short blond hair and chubby body, sucking her thumb and listening to Jenny’s story, being acted out by the dolls they had found.

Batgirl had undergone several involuntary costume changes (and incidentally could now attest by personal experience that Jade’s scraps of eye-catching cloth would NOT stay up by themselves), and currently found herself in Wonder Woman’s star spangled one piece. To her relief and dismay, the police officers had at last shaken off their lingering paralysis and the shock of finding themselves buried in their clothes. Relief since they were all right, but dismay since they had, after long struggle, managed to activate one of their radios and call for reinforcements. Their voices had been too small to carry until they learned to shout together, and even then had met resistance when they announced their plight. At last, the skeptical dispatcher, half believing she was the target of a practical joke, had sent a special units team on the way. Batgirl almost dreaded their arrival - even at eight inches tall, they could hardly fail to recognize the police commissioner’s daughter, and when somebody discovered the discarded Batgirl uniform, her secret was gone. Only distance had saved her from discovery byt eh other officers, who saw no reason to bother the two giant, young girls apparently playing with their doll, especially since they were about a half mile away at their scale. She tried once more to reason with her oversized captors.

“Jenny, Kara, you’ve got to let me put on my Batgirl uniform. The police will be here any minute.”

“You’re not Batgirl, you’re Super Barbie,” Jenny corrected her. “And you’re looking for your super pony, Princess.”

Supergirl merely nodded while sucking furiously on her thumb, entranced by the story.

Fortunately for Barbara, a distressed voice in the hall put a hold on the Princess chronicles.

“Jenny? Jenny, where are you?” a frantic woman called.

“Oops,” Jenny announced while jumping up. She set the relieved Batgirl next to a wide-eyed Kara. “That’s my Mommy. I better go. It was nice playing with you.” She ran out of the room.

“Thank God,” Batgirl breathed, starting to pull off the skimpy amazon costume. “Supergirl, hand me my uniform.”

Supergirl blinked innocently and uncomprehendingly.

“Great,” Batgirl mumbled, then added in a louder voice. “Kara, give me those purple doll clothes.”

This registered, and the blond tot handed down the requested pieces.

“Ugh,” Batgirl grunted, trying to squeeze them on. “They aren’t kidding about Barbie not having a real woman’s figure. What is this? It’s like she’s six feet tall but a size 4.” The pants were too long, yet the waist too small. The boots were molded plastic and almost useless for walking, but at least the top covered her bare breasts, and she had a workable mask again.

And just in time. Four police in special uniforms entered the room, taking point positions. When they signaled an all clear, two more figures entered. One was a large, overweight man with square shoulders, wearing a rumpled raincoat and hat, a toothpick hanging from his mouth. The other was an attractive, quick-eyed Hispanic woman in standard officer jacket and cap. The man’s eyes swept the room, barely widening at the sight of the naked, miniature police officers jumping on their piles of discarded clothing to attract attention. He flicked the toothpick away in disgust.

“Rookies,” he mumbled, glad they had refused the conventioneers request to return. “Maybe next time they’ll pay attention when I give my talk about how to handle these costumed freaks.” He glanced at the almost naked baby sitting on the floor and jerked a thumb in her direction. “Montoya. Mommy duty, 10 o’clock. I’ll have a talk with our shrinking violets over here.”

Montoya rolled her eyes. Bullock took some getting used to, but he was dogged and almost unflappable, a good partner for the Special Crimes Unit. Still, it was typical that he’d shunt her to the less interesting work. She put on her most reassuring smile and approached the watchful baby.

“Hello, little girl,” she greeted Kara while stooping next to her. “My name is Renee. What’s yours?”

The thumb briefly popped out of Supergirl’s mouth. “Kawa.”

“Kara? That’s a nice name. Is your Mommy around? How did you get in here?”

Kara shook her head. “Flyed.”

“You flew?” Montoya asked in puzzlement. “Oh, you came to the city in a plane? That’s nice, but how did you get in here just now?”

“For Pete’s sake, Montoya,” the girl’s doll squeaked impatiently. “She flew in the window. She used to be Supergirl. Look at the costume on the floor in front of you.”

Montoya stifled a scream and jumped back, then peered in wide-eyed disbelief at the talking doll. It couldn’t be.

“Batgirl? Supergirl?” she asked, turning from one to the other, too stunned to think properly, despite the fate she had already observed in the other officers. Somehow, when it was someone you knew ...

“Yeah,” Batgirl admitted, squirming uncomfortably in her ill-fitting and scratchy clothes. “It’s a long story.” She filled in the astonished police officer with their adventure to date.

“It’s unbelievable,” Montoya summed.

“Tell me about it,” Batgirl answered. “Thank God you came over here instead of Bullock. I couldn’t face him right now.”

Montoya heard Bullock giving the shrunken officers a hard time about being caught by surprise.

“I see your point.”

Batgirl saw one of the other squad members holding up her uniform front speculatively.

“Um, Montoya, do you think you could take charge of our stuff? I’d just as soon not have my underwear photographed and handled by half the force.”

“Oh, sure. Come on.” She picked up the thumb-sucking tot of steel and her diminutive partner. “I’ll take that,” she announced authoritatively, indicating the emblazoned shirt. “That’s the girl’s stuff.”

The officer reluctantly surrendered the costume top, and Montoya gathered together all the discarded uniform pieces. There was no sign of Batgirl’s cowl though.

“Lilandra must have gotten away with it,” Batgirl whispered. “Do you think you can get us out of here without Bullock getting his yucks in if he sees me?”

As if on cue, Bullock called out with a triumphant smirk.

“Hey, Montoya, I got a lead on our suspect. Jane Doe. Asian. Young twenties, dressed in a bikini and a cape. Cute, huh? Another psycho. At least these guys weren’t totally useless.”

“Not bad, Detective Bullock,” she shot back. “Assuming you’re talking about Lilandra, a sorceress who may be other dimensional in nature. Her powers seem centered in jewelry on her person and apparently include transformation and teleportation capabilities.”

The large man’s jaw fell open, and his new toothpick fell to the floor. “How the hell ...?”

“You’d be surprised what you can learn being a ‘Mommy’,” she added mysteriously.

“Don’t forget her staff and medallion,” Batgirl prompted quietly, trying to hold otherwise still and finally hoping to be taken for the doll she resembled. “But be careful picking up the staff. It gave me a nasty shock.”

The staff was added to their collection, but a thorough search turned up no sign of the medallion.

“You sure Lilandra didn’t get it back?” Montoya asked.

“Positive,” Batgirl answered. “It was sitting on the floor right next to ...” Her eyes went wide. “Uh oh.”

..............................................................................................................................

In their minivan, Jenny examined her treasure happily. The medallion was a marvel, so heavy and beautiful, and its jewel sparkled delightfully. Her mother and teenage sister in front never turned around or noticed, but, of course, it caught her eight year old sister’s immediately.

“What’s that?” Amber asked.

“My magic medallion,” Jenny replied, unintentionally quite accurate. “Supergirl got it for me.”

“Mom!” Amber called, instantly seizing on an opportunity to get her sister in trouble. “Jenny’s still pretending she was playing with Supergirl.”

Jenny’s mother, Patricia, briefly shot an angry look into the back.

“Jenny! I’m mad enough about you wandering off and getting lost like that. If you continue to lie about it, I will give you a spanking. Do you understand?”

Jenny quailed, while Amber laughed silently, but unknown to either of them, Jenny’s dismay triggered a far more interesting reaction. Her well-deserved fear at the threat unconsciously centered around her mother’s much larger size, and as though in response, The medallion flashed briefly. Several seconds later, Patricia squirmed a bit in the seat, suddenly uncomfortable. She readjusted her rearview mirror, wondering when it had been knocked askew, and at the next light, scooted her seat forward a couple of inches. There, that was better. Jim (her husband) must have driven the van last. Funny she hadn’t noticed until now.

Jenny and Amber, meanwhile, were still sticking tongues out at each other over Amber’s tattling. The older girl decided to annoy Jenny in another time-honored fashion.

“Let me have that!” she demanded, reaching for the medallion. “I wanna see it.”

“No, it’s mine!” Jenny insisted.

“I’m bigger. I get it!” Amber reasoned in classic sibling style. She grabbed on and began a tug of war.

“Nooo! Stop!” Jenny wailed. “It’s mine!” She could feel Amber’s superior strength winning out. Her older sister’s confidence and bullying tactics were infuriating. “Oh! I wish you were smaller!”

There was another flash, and suddenly Amber found herself looking up into her younger sister’s face. Astonished, she let out a small yipe and released the medallion as though bitten. Jenny also gasped at the sight – her older sister was a good six inches shorter than her, and her clothes hung loosely on her toddler sized frame. Slowly, a smile of triumph crept across her five year old face, and she clutched her now-for-real magic medallion even more jealously.

“Hey! How? What?” Amber sputtered, then shrieked. “MOM! Jenny shrunk me!”

Patricia gripped the wheel tightly as her lips compressed into an angry line.

“Look, Amber. I’m already mad at Jenny for wandering off, and at your sister C for letting her out of sight.” The teen in the front passenger seat stared ahead stonily. “And now you and your sister are fighting and making up these stupid games. Do you want to make Mommy really mad at EVERYONE?”

A shrank again, this time figuratively.

“No, Mommy,” she managed in a quiet voice.

“I don’t want to hear another word about shrinking or flying girls or magic medallions the rest of the trip. Do you both understand?” She glanced into the rearview mirror. Jenny was nodding furiously, and Amber looked so frightened that she apparently had slumped down into her seat. “Good,” she finished.

Patricia adjusted her loose shirt higher onto her shoulders and continued driving in satisfaction.

end part 4

Should have some more shrinking (and even some growing) next time.

[TheoW]

Girls Night Out II

by Nomdreserv and the Dark Oni

Part 5

Closer to the Gotham Hotel, another car passenger rode in unhappy silence. Montoya drove, while Supergirl rode in the back, still wide eyed and sucking her thumb, and still holding onto her special “dolly” with her other hand. The dolly was not happy.

Of course, they were lucky to have gotten this far. Batgirl had been determined to avoid letting Bullock see her like this, and her pleading had finally convinced Montoya to bypass official procedures. The police officer had gathered up the uniforms and discarded staff, then made to leave the room.

“Hey, Montoya,” Bullock had growled. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Figured I’d get the girl back to her mother,” Montoya answered smoothly. “Says she got lost while playing on the elevator, but they’re staying here at the hotel. I’ll check it out downstairs.”

“Why are you taking those things with you?”

“Oh, um, I had a hunch about something. Thought I’d check it out at the same time.”

“A hunch, huh?” He immediately became suspicious. “OK, Montoya. What are you holding out on me? Let me see that staff.”

Montoya had noticed Supergirl was becoming extremely restless the last few minutes, and was now squirming in her hands. She also thought she recognized the intense, distracted expression on the baby Supergirl’s face. It was a rotten trick, but …

“Sure, Harvey. Here, hold the kid a second, will you?” She indicated that she needed two hands to free the staff.

He reluctantly took the fidgeting child, not noticing her doll’s horrified expression. Also unnoticed was Montoya’s rubbing the girl’s tummy as she handed her over, making the baby’s expression screw up in distress.

“See,” Montoya held up the staff and clothes. “This looks just like the suspect’s staff, and the girl says the woman showed special interest in these costumes.”

“Superheroes!” Bullock snorted in disgust. “Figures a nutcase like this witchie poo would go for them. They’re all a bunch of psycho glory hounds.”

The girl in his arms stopped squirming long enough to glare at him angrily, then another, panicky expression took over. She stopped squirming with an involuntary sigh.

“Anyway,” Montoya continued, stifling a grin as her plan’s success became obvious. “I thought I’d run a … fashion analysis on the costumes, and … um …”

Luckily, before she had to confabulate further, Bullock noticed the growing wet spot on his raincoat, and the soggy behind in his arms.

“Aw, for Chr…” he sputtered, holding the girl out at unhappy arm’s length. “Geez, Montoya! The brat’s wet! What are you tryin’ to do, drown me? Here! Take her!”

Montoya did with an open smile, quickly bundling the rest of the items back with the giggling girl.

“Now get out of here!” he ordered. “Fashion analysis! Of all the stupid …” He saw the other officers, even the shrunken ones, smiling as well. “And what the hell are you looking at?” he demanded.

“Don’t worry, Bullock,” one of them called. “With all the stains on your coat, no one will notice.”

“Yeah, fashion analysis is one thing you’ll never know,” another offered.

Bullock launched his tirade as Montoya disappeared.

Now they had reached the relative safety of the squad car, but Montoya wasn’t sure what they were supposed to be doing. She had removed Supergirl’s wet panties and dressed her in her oversized shirt, though it would barely stay on the young toddler. Montoya would have guessed she was about 18 months old from her size and limited vocabulary, and was acting every bit the near infant she had become. The police woman decided their first stop would be a convenience store for some diapers, and she had set the child into the car wishing she had some towels to protect the seat from another accident. She also felt professional guilt about not having a car seat, even if her passenger was a less vulnerable “super” baby, a fact reinforced when she tried to put Batgirl in the front passenger seat. The child’s grip was easily a match to her own, and they had been forced to leave her in Supergirl’s hands after the tot had begun screaming when they went to secure the diminutive crimefighter separately. Unwilling to risk a scene or Batgirl’s health, they had relented, with Supergirl immediately settling in happily for the ride. Fortunately for Barbara, Kara held her quite gently otherwise, and now began brushing her hair attentively.

“So, now what?” Montoya asked, addressing her question to the eight inch woman being cradled so closely.

“Good question,” Batgirl admitted, shouting to be heard. She looked at her young companion reprovingly as she felt her hair being twisted into pigtails. “Neither of us is exactly in position to go on the offensive.”

“We could run some tests on that staff at headquarters.”

“No offense,” Batgirl returned. “But not only would we be on every newscast by evening, but it would take a week to get results. I know who I’d like to have look at it.”

“Speaking of,” Montoya put in. “Can we expect HIS help?”

“No,” Batgirl admitted. “Batman’s out of town. Special case. We could still use his equipment...” She trailed off. “But I can’t exactly give you directions to drive there.”

There was an awkward pause, punctuated only by the baby Supergirl’s enthusiastic thumb sucking. Batgirl was exasperated by her friend’s apparently untroubled and thorough acceptance of her reduced condition. She dropped her voice so Montoya wouldn’t hear.

“Kara, would you PLEASE stop sucking your thumb?”

Supergirl pulled out the offending digit and regarded it and her friend thoughtfully. Somehow, the sucking really made her feel better, but if Barbara didn’t want her to suck her thumb...

Batgirl realized the meaning of Kara’s expression an instant before the baby lifted her towards an open mouth.

“NO, Supergirl, wait. I umghpfj....”

Montoya waited for Batgirl to offer an alternative destination, finally breaking the long silence. “So, headquarters after all? I know a couple of lab people who owe me favors.”

There was no answer. Montoya looked in the mirror and at first saw no sign of the shrunken crimefighter. The blond haired baby continued to stare happily out the window as she sucked something contentedly in her mouth. But a few more seconds brought the realization that whatever she was sucking was attached to a pair of wildly kicking legs clad in purple tights.

Montoya stopped the car with a screech.

“Supergirl! Take that doll ... uh, woman ... oh ... whatever! Get her out of your mouth immediately!”

The startled baby did just that. Batgirl emerged into the open air soaked from the waist up, gasping for breath, her upper costume askew, and her cowl almost off. Montoya leaned over anxiously.

“Batgirl, are you all right?”

Batgirl pushed her slick, wet hair out of her face and recentered her cowl. Her sodden costume stuck to her uncomfortably as she tried to pull it back down, but she appeared unhurt, at least physically

“At least she doesn’t bite,” she managed, trying to pretend her usual calm.

Seeing she wasn’t hurt, Montoya could barely restrain a smile at the bedraggled crimefighter’s appearance. She looked sternly into Supergirl’s eyes.

“Supergirl, you are never to put people in your mouth. Understand? You could have hurt Batgirl.”

Supergirl nodded slowly. “Sowwy.” The thumb shot back in and drew several reassuring sucks.

“I’m sowwy, er, sorry too, Batgirl,” Montoya apologized. “I didn’t realize ...”

“Never mind,” Batgirl waved it off. “The day just keeps getting better and better.” She kept one wary eye on Kara.

Montoya restarted the car. “We still don’t have a destination.”

Batgirl still resisted. “Damn. There must be someone who knows about this magic stuff! I wonder where Zatanna is these days?”

Montoya hesitated a few seconds. “Magic, huh? Look, not like I’m a true believer or anything, and I’d never admit this ordinarily, but I did once find myself in this curio shop...”

.........................................................................................................

Patricia heaved a sigh of relief as they pulled the minivan into the garage. She had a splitting headache from the stress of almost losing Jenny at the hotel, and the recriminations and arguments that followed. She just needed some quiet time to recover.

“Kids,” she announced while fumbling at the back door. She swiped emptily several times while looking at the children emerging from the van, then finally turned long enough to see that her hand was well below the knob level. Odd, turning it was usually second nature. She reached up to open the door. “I’m going to go lie down, and I don’t want any disturbances, OK?”

Jenny nodded vigorously. Courtney simply shrugged acceptingly. Amber still hung back in the van as though worried about something, but also nodded.

“Good.” Patricia stumbled briefly on the step, then paused inside to check the answering machine as the kids walked by. Courtney must have had another growth spurt Patricia realized with surprise, noticing that her daughter was probably a bit taller than her now. Something about Amber hurrying by also made her look twice - she didn’t look quite right. Must be those baggy clothes she was wearing. She’d have to talk to Jim about buying such oversized things. Leaving room to grow was fine, but this was ridiculous. Her things were almost falling off.

She climbed the stairs, thinking she must be tired since they seemed taller and longer than usual, entered her room, and slipped off her shoes (yes, all too easily). Her reflection in the mirror caught her eye. She did look tired, like she was slumping in her clothes. And speaking of too large sizes, her own things hung a little loosely. Watching those calories at dinner must finally be paying off. At least a couple of inches, maybe more, she decided, pulling at her loose waistband (and she was quite right, though in an unexpected sense). More satisfied, she lay down on her bed and closed her eyes.

Jenny had run straight to her room and pulled out her collection of Barbies. She held each up in turn now, sternly asking if it could talk, then shaking it a little when it didn’t answer, and finally smacking it to see if it would move like Supergirl’s doll. As each was discarded, still smiling in plastic serenity, she began to lose hope.

A timid Amber poked her head into the room.

“Um, Jenny, can I come in?”

Jenny nodded, and Amber walked in tugging at her dropping pants.

“So, everything you said back there was true, huh?”

“Told ya,” Jenny said triumphantly.

“Can you make me bigger again now?” Amber asked hopefully.

Jenny was taken aback.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, then shook her head decisively. “Don’t wanna anyway.”

“Please?” Amber begged, then considered a different tack. “I bet Mom will be mad when she finds out.”

Jenny almost fell for it, then stiffened.

“Only if you tell her, and if you do I’ll make you this small.” She held up her finger and thumb about an inch apart. Amber paled.

“No, please, I won’t tell,” she promised, neither realizing how silly the promise was now given her near toddler size.

“OK,” Jenny accepted. “Wanna play?”

Eager to appease her new “big” sister, Amber sat down.

“Whatcha doin’?”

“Trying to get my dolls to talk,” Jenny answered matter of factly. “Supergirl had a really neat Barbie that walked and talked like a real girl.” She whacked another doll’s head on the floor. “But mine won’t do nothing.”

Amber started changing the clothes of one of the discarded Barbies. “We can still play, like, regular,” she offered.

“Yeah,” Jenny admitted. “But it’s more fun when they wiggle.” An idea came to her, and she reached up to finger her medallion. “Hey, maybe we could make you like a Barbie.” She held out a doll jacket appraisingly towards her sister.

Amber yiped and scrambled back while thinking desperately.

“N ... no, Jenny, please. I, um, I don’t look like Barbie.” She waved a hand at her undeveloped, little-girl figure.

Jenny frowned, allowing the objection’s truth, then both girls looked up with the same idea.

“Courtney!”

.........................................................................................................

Across town, a well-dressed, respectable looking gentleman looked up from the counter of his small store as the door opened.

“Officer Montoya,” he called in greeting. “Good to see you again. I trust that potion you purchased was satisfactory.”

Batgirl saw Montoya blush before murmuring, “It worked out fine, thank you.”

“I’m so glad. Would you care to introduce me to your young companions? Unlike my competition, I don’t read everyone that steps through the door, but offhand,” his eyes seemed to focus on Batgirl as though he knew she wasn’t really a doll in Supergirl’s hands, “I’d say someone’s been having medallion problems.”

“What?” Batgirl squeaked, dropping her inanimate pretense. “How did he ...?”

Apparently unsurprised, the man continued. “It’s always medallions. They’ve become stock in trade. Convenient but unimaginative. My name’s Rook, by the way. Are you really Batgirl, or were those the only clothes available at doll size? And dare I assume that means this young lady with the somewhat ill-fitting shirt is the famous Supergirl, an apparent victim of the more esoteric age magic? I see you’ve put her diapers, implying psychological as well as physical regression. Fascinating stuff, size and age manipulations. The attempt to mix the magics is rather unusual, despite Gregor’s claims to the contrary. Forgive my prattling, but I don’t often get superheroes in my establishment, not with Dr. Fate and those other high profile practitioners. Quite a pleasure. How may I help you?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Montoya asked, setting Supergirl on the floor. Once again, the baby insisted on holding onto her special doll, to Batgirl’s continued embarrassment. Her hair was still wet and slicked down from her time as a human pacifier.

“In a way, yes,” he replied, unperturbed. “But I can’t help you there. Unless I have the specific agent of change to study, trying to reverse the spell is far too dangerous. I don’t suppose you can give me details as to who, how and why?”

Batgirl, between interruptions by the still playful Supergirl, related their story again.

“Lilandra, hmm?” he considered. “Don’t know her. The flashes and energy spheres are unusual, and you say they had to actually hit you? Strange. Unsophisticated, even. Could be other dimensional as you surmised. Most likely a low end practitioner.”

“Low end?” Batgirl piped incredulously, indicating the state of the two superheroines. Whether it was from Supergirl’s sucking or her own indignation as she squared her shoulders at his comment, she was suddenly aware of how tight her doll costume felt.

“Relatively speaking,” Rook allowed. “May I?” He indicated the staff, and Montoya handed it over. “Hmm. Interesting. I believe this is a variation on ... yes, it’s a Mnemonic Staff.”

“A what?” the two women chorused. Even Supergirl seemed interested and looked up with wide, blue eyes. Batgirl tugged unconsciously at her shirt to close a gap that had opened above her pants.

“A Mnemonic Staff, or something very like it. A beginner’s tool - like a magic wand with training wheels. It can hold a large number of spells in memory, and is very easy to use, but severely limits the power of each spell, not to mention the caster’s ... creativity. And they’re exceedingly fragile. No experienced sorceress would use one.”

Batgirl had become distracted. Her clothes felt extremely tight, and her sleeves seemed much shorter than before. Her cowl was binding her painfully, and her toes felt crushed inside the boots.

“Yes, a novice,” Rook decided. “Needs props and spell foci, like the ring or medallion. Obviously capable of dramatic effects, but limited in scope and almost certainly unstable if used on more than one or two subjects.”

“Unstable?” Montoya asked. “What does that mean?”

A ripping sound interrupted them.

“I think I can answer that,” Batgirl offered, bare skin showing through a torn sleeve, and as her costume appeared to be shrinking around her, threatening to show much more.

End Part 5

I know, a short chapter (told ya, real life is taking its toll), and now we’ve got shrinking, growing and age changes to muddy things. Is it worth continuing, or should we go back to other works in progress? Let us know.

[TheoW]

Girls Night Out II

by Nomdreserv and the Dark Oni

Part 6

Montoya gasped in surprise. Batgirl was clearly bigger than before, close to a foot tall. The doll costume was stretched to its limits and beyond, with ankles and wrists clearly exposed, a bare (and widening) midriff, and rips at both shoulders. Batgirl had already removed the offending boots while she still could, and stood barefoot in Supergirl’s lap. As they watched, she grew another inch, popping the pants’ waist, and forming small tears at the cuffs as they rode up her calves. The cowl was now only covering her upper face, and she could barely adjust it enough to see out the eyeholes.

Supergirl cooed. “Ooh. Big dolly.”

“I think,” Batgirl decided. “I’m going to be needing some new clothes.” She flexed an arm experimentally and watched the shoulder tear extend halfway down the sleeve. She could barely breathe as the top contracted around her chest, forming a second skin

“Very interesting,” Rook murmured. And, if his eyes lingered a little longer than necessary on her tightly defined breasts and buttocks, threatening to burst forth from their purple cocoon, and the skin revealed by her shrinking, crop top costume, well, who could blame him?

“Eeek!” Batgirl shrieked, as her pants seat split open. She turned to hide her suddenly exposed bottom. “Montoya, get my costume, please! NOW!”

Montoya ran from the store, as Supergirl continued to “ooh” appreciatively. Batgirl was now twice her previous height, and her torn clothes were about to give up entirely, with the pants split up both legs, and coming to about knee level, and her breasts beginning to peek beneath the shrinking shirt as it rode up unevenly. The sleeves hung in tatters, and she tried to hold onto the cowl remnants as it tore apart, leaving her even more exposed in a figurative sense.

Rook was already acting.

“Allow me,” he offered, holding out a small tablecloth while shielding his eyes.

Supergirl had relaxed her hold on her doll as she grew, allowing Batgirl to now hop off her lap as she accepted the cover gratefully.

“Thanks. Oh my gosh.” The last was in reference to her top tearing completely down the middle, parting the bat symbol and revealing her perfect breasts in all their glory. She shrugged and pulled the scraps of her top off, while the pants’ tears expanded and began to join up, leaving her lower body exposed as well. “I wonder how She-Hulk handles this problem?” she mumbled. “No wonder the paparazzi are always following her around. Oops.” She felt the last of her pants fall away in rags. “Geez, this stuff is cheap,” she complained, then realized it was lucky for her it was, or her growth spurt could have been much more painful. She was now completely naked again, and wrapped herself carefully in the provided cloth while blushing prettily.

“Again!” Supergirl laughed, while clapping her hands.

“Indeed,” Rook murmured to himself.

Montoya returned, arms full, to find Batgirl huddling under the cloth, the torn fragments of her outgrown costume on the floor. Barbara made sure her head was well shielded, though this left her legs partly bare.

“No cowl,” Montoya apologized, setting the clothes next to the shrunken woman. “Do you have a spare?”

“No, and it wouldn’t fit yet anyway,” Batgirl noted unhappily. Her growth had stopped, leaving her about two feet tall. She noticed with chagrin that despite her “growth spurt,” she was barely taller than the regressed Supergirl sitting down. “So this is it? I’m stuck like this? I thought it was wearing off.”

“No, no,” Rook corrected. “The magic’s merely unstable. You could start growing or shrinking again any time, though I doubt you’ll ever reach normal height until you recover the artifact that shrank you.”

“How about Supergirl?” Montoya asked. “She’s still a baby.”

“For now,” Rook agreed. “But her magic’s also most likely unstable, at least if this Lilandra uses her ring to regress anyone else. The more it’s used, the more unstable the magic becomes. Unfortunately, in her case the magic affects both body and mind, and may change independently.”

“Great,” Batgirl said dryly. “So we may have a powerless Superbaby who can think normally, or a super-powered adult who wets her pants.”

“More diapers,” Montoya muttered.

“Wait,” Rook interjected. “I have just what you need. Age changing magic is quite popular in some circles.” He paused to look at the small woman hiding under the tablecloth. “As is shrinking.”

“You’re kidding,” Batgirl insisted.

“Not at all,” he returned blithely. “Under the right circumstances, it can be quite stimulating. I’ll grant you that your introduction to it has hardly been favorable, but the experience can be quite remarkable. Age manipulation is more of an acquired taste. And while I personally have no desire to re-experience my time in diapers, I do keep some items in stock. Now, wait just a minute.”

He opened a storage room behind the counter and disappeared briefly. Supergirl, becoming restless, wobbled over to Montoya and tugged at her leg. When the police officer looked down, the tiny blond tot held her arms up imploringly.

“Up,” she said, more a statement than question.

“What?” Montoya asked.

“Up,” she insisted, pulling harder on Montoya’s pants. There was enough residual of her super strength that she nearly pulled them down.

“Hey, wait a second,” Montoya interjected, pulling on her belt. “You want me to hold you?”

The young child nodded earnestly.

“Well, I, um …” She looked at Batgirl. There was a shrug beneath the sheet. Although feeling a little awkward about treating the superheroine like the child she now seemed, she was awfully cute. Montoya couldn’t resist complying, and lifted her into her arms. Supergirl promptly snuggled against her and contentedly resumed sucking her thumb.

When Rook came back, he held a small package of disposable diapers. He found Montoya cooing at Supergirl while jostling her playfully and briefly raised his eyebrows.

“Perhaps I underestimated the effectiveness of Lilandra’s spells,” he admitted, seeing how thoroughly Supergirl seemed to have accepted her regression. “I hope we can reverse that, too. If not,” he held the diaper package aloft, “super absorbent for a super baby,” he joked. “But more importantly, super stretchy elastic tabs. They should hold even if she reverts to adult size.”

“A woman wearing a diaper,” Batgirl said sarcastically. “Oh, she’ll love that.”

“Better than the alternative,” he replied. “And I thought you might be able to use this.” He held out a black, domino style mask to the woman hiding under the sheet.

“Is this magic?” Batgirl asked suspiciously.

“Alas, no,” he sighed. “Unless you count the smooth caress of soft velvet magical. Another popular accessory for more adult oriented pastimes. Still, in this case, it should prove quite functional.”

Better than functional. At her present size, even with the eyeholes centered, Batgirl found the mask covered almost all her face, preserving her secret identity, and since it was a tie on style, she could adjust it as needed.”

“Thank you,” she said, her head emerging from beneath the cover. She waved at the rest of her costume, then glanced at the storage room. “May I?”

“Of course,” he agreed. “The back room is yours.”

Batgirl gratefully closed the door and dropped her covers. Although her costume was still ludicrously oversized, she felt it was her best bet in case she started growing again. Even so, she nearly gave it up when she wrestled the tent-sized shirt on. The bottom and the sleeves dragged the floor, and the normally tight collar threatened to slide over her small shoulders. She angrily rolled the sleeves up to expose her hands, then used a pin to better secure the collar. She tried to fashion a makeshift belt from her cape, leaving her in a sort of baggy, sack dress, her bat symbol still drooping sadly on her tiny frame as though to mock her efforts.

As she worked, she couldn’t help noticing some of the labels on the many drawers and cupboards lining the room. A few made her eyes go wide – apparently Mr. Rook catered to some unusual clientele interests. One or two others caught her attention in a different way, making her tingle a bit, and she decided a return visit under less pressing conditions might be in order.

She strung her utility belt like a bandoleer across her shoulder and chest. Large enough to use it again, she reached behind the buckle and activated a recessed switch. That would take care of one of their problems.

She emerged from the room to find Montoya making whooshing noises while swinging Supergirl through the air, the delighted child giggling uncontrollably.

“Me flying!” Supergirl announced proudly to her friend.

“So I see,” Batgirl agreed with a smile.

Montoya seemed embarrassed. “Sorry, but she was getting a bit restless, and insisted she had to fly. I didn’t want her to hurt herself trying.” She couldn’t resist stopping to tickle the cute little blond under the chin, drawing mirthful squeals. Supergirl did make an awfully cute baby.

Batgirl had seen the equally happy expression on Montoya’s face as she played with the girl, and nodded acceptingly. Although only marginally better dressed than when she entered, she somehow felt much more comfortable in at least part of her costume. It reminded her of who she was, and brought back the first stirrings of her old confidence. She immediately turned to Rook.

“You mentioned returning to normal if we could recover the artifacts.”

“I think it’s your best bet, yes.”

“Any suggestions of how we could find them or her?”

“Ah,” he mused. “Yes. I see your point. Teleportation is rather an advantage for her, isn’t it? Makes her difficult to find. Hmm. How much magical training do you have?”

Batgirl’s lips set tightly.

“None. I’m not even sure I believe all this mumbo jumbo now.” A tingle moved through her body, and she sank several inches, returning to Montoya’s knee level. “OK, OK, I believe! Geez.” She had to grab at her slipping shirt as she shrank once more below collar size.

Rook watched as she continued to dwindle several inches before stabilizing.

“Interesting,” he murmured. “Most provocative. Now then, as to your lack of training. It’s unfortunate, since otherwise I could provide you with a seeker wand. Most magics have their own innate frequencies, and Lilandra, as well as her artifacts, most likely coming from another dimension, should be quite unique.”

“Frequencies?” Batgirl asked, intrigued. “Frequencies I can do. I’ll bet all her stuff has some kind of weird energy signature. We can use this staff to identify it and then find her or the medallion.”

“Possibly,” he agreed. “While the energy lasts.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Lilandra won’t be a problem. She presumably generates her own magical energy and can sustain it. These devices, though, are another story. If my guess is right, and that’s based on this staff here, they’re not the sort of high-class items you usually read about. They need an external source of magical energy to remain useful, rather like a magical capacitor. While Lilandra holds them, that’s not a problem, but their charge is limited. The medallion you lost may become difficult to track if it fully discharges, though I suppose that’s not likely to happen, is it?”

Batgirl’s eyes looked around nervously. She had to get that medallion to get back to normal. She asked several more questions while Montoya continued to play with Supergirl, helping the toddler wobble uncertainly around the shop. An unusual engine noise whined down outside in the street, interrupting them. Rook looked up.

“Ah, that would be your ride I assume?”

Batgirl smiled. “Magical intuition?”

Rook waved a hand. “Few long time Gotham residents haven’t heard the Batmobile at least once, especially those of us frequenting less traveled paths.”

Montoya looked at her in surprise.

“How did ...?”

“Homing beacon and autopilot,” Batgirl answered. “I hope you don’t mind, Montoya, but I think we’d better split up. You’ve got to get back to keep Bullock under control, and I’ve got to go where I can work on this. AND get a new costume.” She bent her head up and up to look into the eyes of her seemingly 20 foot tall friend. “I can’t thank you enough. You really saved us back there.”

“Thanks, nothing,” Montoya growled, seeming a little reluctant to give up her babysitting charge. She hugged the child closely a few seconds. “Just call me when you’re ready to close in. You could use the backup, and I get a little tired of being on the short end of these busts.”

Rook smiled, drawing their attention.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “Word play.”

Batgirl tried to glare. “So, assuming we can get this medallion back, could we use it?”

“Oh certainly,” he assured her. “Probably operates with simple mental commands. If it’s like this staff, a five year old could use it.”

..............................................................................................................................

Jenny and Amber approached Courtney’s room cautiously. They peeked in to find her dressed in sweats and talking on the phone, with her usual music cranked up in the background, covering the girls’ whispered conversation.

“Can you really shrink her?” Amber asked. “It’d be neat to have her smaller than us for a change.” She frowned at several remembered injustices.

“Sure,” Jenny replied uncertainly, not quite sure how the medallion had worked before. She recalled her words while fighting with Amber. “I wish Courtney was smaller.”

There was a stuttered series of flashes from the medallion as it tried to accommodate the rather nebulous request, then a larger flash in Courtney’s direction. The two girls gasped as they saw a ball of light actually fly out to strike her.

Courtney noticed the flash out of the corner of her eye and felt a strange tingle, looking up to find her little sisters staring at her through the open door. She waved them away angrily and returned to gossip, though in the back of her mind she noticed something funny about Amber’s appearance.

“Sorry, Brittany,” she apologized. “My baby sisters were bugging me. Hold on while I put on another disc.”

She hopped off the bed, not noticing how baggy her sweatshirt and pants had become, or that the cuffs were bunching up at her wrists and ankles. She did notice that the CD felt funny as she lifted it from its case, as though her finger and thumb had to stretch a bit more than they were used to, but she shrugged it off and returned to her bed.

“OK … no, wait,” she sighed. Now she couldn’t get the phone to cradle comfortably so she could have her hands free for magazines (like many teenagers, Courtney excelled at multitasking). She also saw with annoyance that the girls had returned to peek around the door again.

“Get out of here!” she ordered. “Before I get mad.” She saw them scamper away, and returned to her suddenly awkward feeling phone, finally giving up and just holding it in her hand. Great, now even that felt strange. "OK, Brit …”

In the hall, Amber and Jenny held a whispered conference.

“I think she’s smaller,” Jenny said triumphantly. “Her clothes looked funny.”

“Maybe,” Amber agreed. “But she’s still a lot bigger than us.”

“It probably takes longer to work cuz she’s so big,” Jenny reasoned. “Let’s look again.”

They peered cautiously once more into the room.

Courtney pulled her sleeves up from where they half covered her wrists. She was having trouble getting comfortable, and it was beginning to annoy her. Even her bra felt funny. She set the phone down to adjust it, noting the straps slid loosely on her shoulders, one of which was bare as her oversized shirt began to settle unevenly. She liked her clothes baggy, but decided she may have bought too large this time.

“So, anyway,” she started again into the phone. “Huh? What do you mean? No, I’m fine.” Pause. “Yes, I’m Courtney!” Longer pause. “NO, I totally do not sound like my baby sisters!”

In fact, she did. As she hit the four-foot mark, her voice had become as high and clear as Amber’s. Giggles from the door distracted her from her argument with Brittany, and she redirected her irritation onto another target.

“I’ll have to call you back, Brittany. The little brats are annoying me again. I’m gonna have to teach them a lesson.” She hung up the phone and glared at them murderously. “OK, rugrats, I warned you.”

She hopped off the bed, landing with a surprised thump after the unaccustomed drop. Even more surprising, her sweatpants promptly fell to her ankles.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, pulling them back up. They wouldn’t hold on her waist, and were ridiculously baggy and long, with the material accordioned over her ankles and half covering her feet. She must have grabbed a pair of her father’s by mistake. Funny she hadn’t noticed until now. More giggles from the door redirected her attention and drew another glare.

“Oh, you think this is funny?” she challenged. “OK, like, I’ll give you babies something to really laugh about.”

Unintentionally, she did just that. She took what she hoped what a sufficiently menacing step while holding the waist to keep her pants up, but the too long cuffs slipped right over her feet and caught beneath her, entangling her legs and sending her sprawling to the floor. The laughs her pratfall elicited so angered her, she simply kicked the pants off and jumped back to her feet, not noticing her sweatshirt now came to knee level. She pulled back the sleeves that had somehow covered both her hands and strode to the door, her anger briefing quashing the alarms that finally began to ring as she drew closer to her siblings.

“OK, squirts!” she growled. “Now we’ll … see … who … ooh … um …” She trailed off weakly as she found herself looking eye to eye with a suddenly confident, smugly smiling Jenny. Her anger dissolved to shock, and her mouth fell open as she took in her impossibly large baby sister.

“Jenny!” she gasped. “You’re huge! What happened?” Her eyes swung to Amber, also close to her own height. “And Amber. OK, girls, like don’t panic. Everything will be all right. We gotta go tell Mom and she can help.”

Jenny’s smile faded somewhat. “Uh uh. Don’t tell Mommy.”

“But, Jenny,” Courtney insisted. “We’ve got to find out why you’re growing, and … and …”

Her subconscious had been at work, noting Jenny’s normal appearing clothes and the increasingly unfamiliar scale of the surrounding room. Her realization of the truth was even more disturbing since it involved her.

“Oh my God! I’m shrinking!” She looked down desperately at the oversized shirt that hung like a dress, and her legs which looked so thin beneath it. The sleeves now hung several inches over her hands, and drooped sadly over them as she raised her arms in shock. “Oh my God! Oh my God! This can’t be happening!”

“Cool,” Amber decided, as she watched Courtney dwindle slowly. The word was a slap, bringing Courtney back to herself and causing her to glare again at her sister.

“Cool? Are you crazy? This is a nightmare! I’ve gotta get Mom.”

She started to leave but found the door blocked by her sisters suddenly imposing frames.

“Outta my way, squirts!” she ordered, trying to push past them.

The younger girls exchanged glances, then with one motion pushed back together. Courtney fell back staggering and stared at them in alarm, realizing with horror that she now had to look up into Jenny’s eyes.

“What are you doing?” she asked frantically. “Let me out. I’ve gotta find out what’s wrong.”

“Uh uh. You can’t push us around like you usually do,” Amber crowed. “And there’s nothing wrong. Jenny’s just shrinking you with her magic thingee like she did to me. Only you’re gonna be even smaller.” An unpleasant gleam came to her eyes. “You’re gonna be sorry for all the times you picked on us.”

“Yeah,” Jenny agreed. “And all the times you wouldn’t play with us and called my Barbies stupid. Now you can be my Barbie.”

Courtney looked desperately from one to the other in rising fear. Now, even Amber looked a couple of inches taller. Her sweatshirt had reached the floor, her hands only came halfway down its sleeves, and the collar hung down to expose a bare shoulder, her almost useless bra strap having already fallen over her upper arm. She could feel her panties start to slide and fumbled at them through the clumsy sleeves covering her hands.

“No,” she gasped, feeling her bra slide mockingly over her tiny breasts and reduced chest. “It’s impossible.” Her voice belied her protest, sounding as though she’d been breathing helium, and making her feel even more desperate. She suddenly looked over their shoulders. “Mom! Thank God!”

When Jenny and Amber turned with fearful faces to look behind them into an empty hall, she darted unexpectedly between them, with just enough strength in her two-foot frame to push past. She ran screaming down the hall.

“MOM! MOM!”

But now her dragging shirt tripped her up, and she fell to the carpet with a whumph. An instant later, both sisters had piled on top, far too heavy for her to throw off. In the frantic struggle that ensued, she pulled free of her engulfing shirt, her useless bra also coming off, so she could fight more effectively, but to no avail. Her sisters were now the equivalent of 8 and 10 foot amazons compared to her, and she found herself pulled naked and kicking from the pile of outgrown clothes.

“Help!” she managed once more before a mitt-sized hand was clamped over her mouth. Ironically, she had silenced her sisters that way on more than one occasion after they started to cry when she teased them, but having a five year old overpower you that way seemed unreal. Unfortunately, her voice had also become much weaker, and her cries barely carried down the hall at this point.

In her room, Patricia’s nap was disturbed by a high-pitched girl’s shout. She clambered out of bed, her headache worse than ever, and threw open her door to find Jenny picking up some discarded clothes in the hall.

“Jenny!” she snapped. “Who was shouting?”

Startled, Jenny looked in tight-lipped fear at her mother, knowing full well the possible consequences of her mother’s anger at being disturbed. Unbeknownst to either of them, her fear triggered another brief flash from the medallion, weaker this time, but enough to drop her mother’s skirt another two inches past her knees.

“Um, Amber and I were playing … superheroes. We’re OK.”

“Hmph,” her mother grumbled. “I told you to be quiet. Any more shouting and I’ll spank you both. Understand?”

Her glare and Jenny’s nodding said it all, and neither noticed her skirt slip down another inch.

“And why are Courtney’s clothes lying here in the hall?” Patricia continued. “That girl is looking for trouble. She always acts out when your father is away. She may think she’s too big for spankings, but …” She trailed off as Jenny muffled a laugh at her words. A firm believer in corporal punishment, Patricia never hesitated to turn her beliefs into actions, and appeared ready to give Jenny another demonstration at her perceived insubordination.

“It’s OK,” Jenny pleaded appeasingly. “I said I’d pick up Courtney’s clothes for her since she’s gonna play with us.”

“Well, all right,” Patricia allowed, a bit surprised since Courtney usually wanted nothing to do with her younger siblings, except to yell at them for bothering her. It was good of her to play with them for a change. “But keep it quiet. And don’t forget bedtime in an hour.”

“OK, Mommy,” Jenny agreed. She watched her mother turn back into her room, vaguely noting her drooping skirt and baggy top. The door closed, and she heard the TV come on. With a sigh of relief, she hurried back to Courtney’s room with her arms full of clothes. Just before she got there, she heard Courtney’s phone ring, and entered to find Amber happily talking on it.

“Uh huh. Courtney can’t come to the phone for a while. She’s gonna be too busy playing with us. OK, Brittany, I’ll tell her. Bye.”

On the bed next to her, a wide-eyed and very naked Courtney looked around desperately while trying to keep her breasts and pelvis covered, stunned at the field-sized expanse of bedspread around her, the almost unrecognizable objects of her room, and the colossal figures her sisters had become. As Amber hung up the phone, the young giantess turned to her older sister with a smile.

“OK, what should we play first?”

END PART 6

[TheoW]

"Batman Adventures: Girls Night Out II" part 7

by Nomdreserv and The Dark Oni

Metropolis State Penitentiary was a bastion of modern criminal containment. It had to be, considering most of the supervillains Superman stopped ended up behind these bars. Among the thousands of cells for regular criminals there were many specialized rooms, designed to house specific enhanced individuals.

Underneath the prison, within one of these rooms, a chanting could be heard. "Three hundred and eight. Three hundred and nine. Three hundred and ten. Well I'll be. I was right the first time. There are three hundred and ten cushions in this room."

The supervillainess Livewire, mistress of electricity, enemy of Superman and scourge of Metropolis was lying on the padded floor of her cell staring at the ceiling. For a split second she paused before her face screwed up and she reached her hands to her spiky white hair.

"I gotta get outta here!" she screamed. Livewire was bored. Again.

Rising to her feet she flopped onto her cot and picked up a letter. "Dear Livewire. You are my hero. I want to be just like you when I grow up." she read aloud.

Looking around her insulated cell she sighed and said, "Yeah kid, great life huh? No TV, no radio. I want a DVD dammit! I want surround sound!"

A puzzled look came to her face and she then plopped her head onto the pillow. A muffled voice could be heard saying, "Great, now I'm talking to myself. If I stay in here any longer I'm gonna be loopier than that nutty Harley."

It was then she heard a knock on her door. It was very strange considering the guards came and went as they pleased. Slowly rising from the bed and approaching the door Wire looked cautiously through the viewing glass.

"Too late, I'm already nuts." she muttered. On the other side of the door was a woman clad in a kind of silver bikini and cape. Behind her Wire could see a young child of six or seven in a guard's uniform shirt that fit him like a gown. The woman held a similarly attired child in her arms, a child who was pointing at Livewire.

"Excuse me, but are you the Livewire?" the woman asked. Wire simply stared and nodded nervously.

"Excellent. Good boy." she added to the shrunken guard. "Please stand away from the door."

"Huh?" Wire asked before noticing a golden ball forming in the woman's hand. "Uh oh!" she blurted out before leaping away from the door.

As Wire covered her head with her hands the explosion she'd expected didn't come. Cautiously turning her head she instead saw the door engulfed in a golden glow. It then seemed to rapidly rust and within seconds collapsed to the floor in a pile of flakes.

Striding triumphantly through the door the bikini clad woman gently placed the young guard on the ground and he fearfully ran out the door screaming.

Smiling at a rising Wire the woman said, "Finally I have you. Do you realize how many cells I had to check, not to mention the difficulty in finding this stupid prison? I certainly hope you'll be worth my time."

"Okay shiny, I don't know who you are but if you think I'm a dead duck because I'm not charged up you're wrong." Livewire boasted, though she was really just bluffing.

A puzzled look came to the woman's face. "Dead duck? But why would I think you were a ... Oh, I get it. I'm sorry, I forgot to mention, I'm Lilandra the Enchantress and I'm here to break you out. You are now a part of my gang."

It was Wire's turn to look puzzled. "Gang?"

"Isn't it great? You're the fourth member, behind me, Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy. Then again, Ivy really hasn't 'joined' yet, so I guess that makes you the third member." Lilandra pondered.

Wire interrupted Lilandra's thoughts. "Hey Lil, I don't mean to break your concentration, but maybe we should be leaving?"

"Oh, of course. Hold still." Lilandra raised her hand but paused. "This does mean you're joining my gang."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Wire responded quickly as she nervously glanced towards the hallway.

"Wonderful." Lilandra stated as a bright light surrounded both of them then faded, leaving an empty room.

Within seconds of the pair's disappearance a red and blue blur entered the cell. When the blur stopped The Man of Steel was in the center of the room.

Scanning the room Superman looked puzzled. He could have sworn the two women had been her a moment before. How in the world could they have escaped? Walking back into the hallway and spotting the children who wandered it, Superman realized he'd have a lot of questions to ask Livewire if he ever saw her again.

When Livewire saw the world again the first thing she noticed was plants. Lots of them.

"Lemme guess, the hideout's plant girl's idea." Wire remarked.

"It was where I found them." Lilandra stated simply.

They walked into the back area and into what were the living quarters. Upon reaching the kitchen Wire was stunned by what she saw.

At the kitchen table was a highchair and in it was a red-haired little baby. The infant had a cloth diaper pinned on her and wore a bib that had a smiling carrot on it. She was also a mess as she had various colors of mush stuck to her.

Seated at the table feeding the baby was Harley Quinn in full clown uniform. The clown looked up at the two visitors and smiled. "Look Ivy, we've got guests. Doesn't that make you happy baby? Yes it does!" Harley finished as the baby giggled.

With a worried look on her face Wire whispered, "Loopier and loopier."

"Hey Sparky, how's it going?" Quinn asked her.

"Oh, I'm sure I'll be fine once I charge up. What happened to her?" Wire asked.

"I happened to her." Lilandra responded. "She challenged me and paid the price."

"Gotcha. No challenging you." Walking over to the wall Wire put her finger into one of the sockets. A visible arc of electricity engulfed her arm and she laughed maniacally. "Yes! The Wire is back!" she cackled.

Baby Ivy started to cry. "Awww, you scared her." Harley said, bringing a towel to the child's face to clean her off.

"Oh please. Guess I should be careful or the poor widdle baby might wet herself and short me out." Wire mocked. She then bent over the crying Ivy and touched the child on the ear. The resulting shock caused the baby to scream.

Harley pushed Wire back and yelled, "Hey, quit it you big bully!"

"Whatever." Wire shrugged. "If you ask me she had it coming. Hope those diapers are comfy greenthumb." she chided the baby before turning to Lilandra. She didn't noticed the stream of milk that flew at her until the liquid struck and the resulting explosion knocked her to the ground.

Tossing the bottle of milk to the floor Harley reached under the table and pulled out a giant mallet.

Before the two could go at it however Lilandra yelled, "Enough! I need you two in one piece if I'm going to have a gang."

Smirking back at the sorceress Wire said, "Oh, about that Lil. Thanks for breaking me out and all but this gang business really doesn't fit into my schedule right now. Later babies."

With that, Livewire reached again for the socket, turned into electricity and shot from sight.

"She betrayed me!" Lilandra screamed. "No matter how long it takes, I will have my revenge."

"Might be sooner than you think." Harley quipped, just before turning the kitchen faucet on and grabbing the water spray. A second later electricity flew from the same socket and Wire reappeared in the center of the room. Before she had a chance to react, Harley shot a spay of water at her.

Sparks flew from Live Wire's body as she screamed and fell to the floor, an occasional spasm jerking her body.

As Harley blew on the spray's nozzle Lilandra asked on a shocked voice, "How did you know?"

"Simple really. Ivy's a bit paranoid, surprise, surprise." Harley joked, tickling the baby under the chin. The infant smiled and clumsily tried to clap her hands.

"She rigged a trap for Sparky in case she ever came after us. A backup generator can provide power to the whole place, no link to the outside. Plus, the entire system is insulated and designed to route any power surges right back to the source." the clown continued. She'd removed the bib from Ivy and was now pulling a green shirt over the baby's head that read "Lil Sprout".

"And it's no coincidence that the water pressure in this place is so high. So, what do you think about making Sparky three? I want her to know what's going on when I, ah, I mean we punish her." Harley finished with a nervous laugh.

Lilandra looked at Harley coolly and took a couple of slow steps in her direction. "You said she would not be a problem."

"Uhhh, I guess I was wrong. Ooops. How was I supposed to know she'd be so stubborn?"

"Harley Quinn, I think ... you are the most sensible one of this group." Lilandra stated.

As the sorceress turned to the fallen Livewire she didn't notice Harley's look of relief. Standing above the electrical villainess Lilandra created two silver balls of energy in her hands.

"As for your request, it is child's play." The balls flew from the enchantress' hands and struck Livewire cleanly, causing a silver glow to surround her.

The impacts awoke Wire with a start. "What the ... ? Uh, oh." she worriedly stated as she rose to her knees. The glow was spreading and quickly covered Wire's hands as she stared at them.

"Lillll!" she whined, her voice sounding a bit higher as she came to her feet. She was now staring at Lilandra's chest instead of her face.

Harley smiled gleefully as she noticed the teenage features on Live Wire's face. The girl's nose was turned upwards and even though she looked to be in her late teens her chest was already flat. The black, lightning decorated leotard the villainess wore was beginning to sag on her and her tights were wrinkling. Her white hair was also getting shorter but nowhere near the rate Ivy's hair had receded.

Wire wasn't taking her changes well. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." she cried. "Don't do this to me. I'll be good." she pouted as she dropped below the puberty barrier and really started to shrink.

Her costume slowly engulfed her, finally losing it's purchase at age eight. The little girl wrapped her arms around the material to keep it from falling to the ground as her shoulders hit the light.

"Nooo. Nohohoho." she child continued to cry as she sank like an elevator. When it stopped, a tiny three year old engulfed in cloth looked up fearfully at Lilandra. Everything was huge and terrifying to her now and try as she might she couldn't hold back the rising gloom that seemed to engulf her.

Within a second whatever control she had was broken by a sharp pain as Harley grabbed the child's ear from behind and yanked her almost off her feet, eliciting a yelp.

"No crying kiddo, or I'll give you something to scream about." Harley cheerfully stated. She dragged Wire right out of her costume and over to the kitchen table. Picking the screaming, kicking naked child up she placed her on her back on the table top.

"Careful Sparky. It's a long way down." Harley warned. Looking at one of her hands Harley continued, "Ooooo. Guess you still have a bit of a charge. My hand tingles. Tingles! What a great name. Do you like it Tingles?"

The child glared back and defiantly stated, "No! Me wive wire!"

A smacking sound could be heard as Harley tilted Wire to her side and hit her bare bottom. Without missing a beat or changing her cheerful tone Harley repeated, "Do you like it Tingles?"

Racked by a new fit of uncontrollable sobs little Tingles managed to squeak out "Yeth."

"Good girl."

Lilandra's voice broke in from behind. "How long will this 'punishment' take? I'm already getting bored."

Holding Tingles in place with her hand Harley turned to Lilandra and said, "I dunno. It could take a while. She's really stubborn. Hey, it's after dark now, you could go rob a jewelry store or something."

"I did not come to Gotham City to be a petty criminal. I came to fight superheroes!" Lilandra said with rage.

In a sing song voice Harley said, "But if you rob a place like tha-at the heroes will ca-ome."

"Really?"

"Yup. And it just so happens I have a place in mind." Harley revealed.

"Excellent, Harley Quinn. You continue to impress me." Lilandra stated.

"Don't I just?"

As the conversation continued little Livewire squirmed, futilely trying to escape from Harley's grip. Wire could no longer understand everything the bad clown and nasty magic woman were saying, she just wanted to get away. She hated being little and she wanted her full powers back!

The more she struggled though the more obvious it became that she wasn't going anywhere. Childish rage and frustration combined to cause her to lose control in a way she hadn't since she was first this size. She could feel the pressure build and release but there was nothing she could do to stop the warm liquid from spraying on her legs.

As soon as Harley saw Lilandra vanish from sight she heard a loud crackle and pop. It was quickly followed by a screaming Livewire.

"Hey Tingles, guess you shorted yourself out this time." Harley smirked as a wicked idea came to her mind. "You're all smelly now too. Mommy Harley's gonna have to clean you up. Bathtime!"

Wire's screams reached a new crescendo as Harley picked her up and walked to the bathroom. Baby Ivy, still seated in her high chair, happily giggled at the sight.

end, part seven.