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KitTraverse
06-25-2015, 02:37 AM
I set down lightly at the front of the bank, for I know this mobster isn't as stupid as to lead his crew in the front door. I'm humbled by my little close-call and I'm stoic. Ready. Waiting. I want to kick some ass. Speaking of which this damn thing won't stay up. I guess I can just keep my front to them the whole time, it would reinforce my principles. Though of course, my shirt is also too small, and my belly is hanging out of the bottom like a big pudgy wave trying to get some air. People assume superheroes always have to be in shape, I think bitterly to myself. Why the hell would a superhero need to be in shape if she has superstrength and the ability to fly and superspeed and budding transformative powers (so far I've only learned how to turn into a flower pot and some kind of endangered chicken- It's harder than it looks)? Therefore as long as I'm able to save people I can drink as much amber ale as I want and gorge on the bakery down the street as much as I want. They know me by first name there. My secret identity first name name, obviously.

I stand at the door, looking back and forth from the lock to the security system console. I jump up and down in place, breathing hard, looking like I'm preparing to box. In less than a second, I grab the lock, rip it off with my bare hands, kick the door open, fly over to the security box and punch it as hard as I can. The first little siren roar doesn't even get a chance to show off its full decibel level and dissipates quietly like a dying loon. I stand proudly and smile, hands at my hips, elbows out, and feet wide apart. Then I look to the side and see my reflection in one of those pointless mirrors they use for fung shui or something, and collapse into a hunch. My powerful stance just looks ridiculous with both my butt and my big belly hanging out, topped off by a moronically tiny cape. I grab the waistband of my pants, bend my knees, and yank as hard as I can while jumping up in the air. For now that gets my butt and lower belly covered, but it's tighter. Oh and now that I'm walking it instantly rides downwards with each step. Perfect... Crash. I whip around and look towards the back room. My pants fall down further. I knew they'd come through the back window. There's a pause, silence- and then I hear arguing, more like a one-sided argument actually. It's Big Moe. The boss, quietly intimidating whatever klutz almost ruined their whole plan. Stupid name for a boss if you ask me.
“You're lucky there's seems to be something wrong the security.” Pause. “Get in the back of the group.” A mouse replied.
“Yes, Boss, sorry, Boss.”
Then I hear footsteps. Six mobsters. I zip silently over to the vault door and stand there in the most stoic, intimidating way I can think of, hoping my cool goggles and leather boots will make up for the fact that my huge belly and butt are sticking out. In the pitch blackness I hear them file into the room and stand there waiting. The Boss speaks again.
“Torches.”
Eleven flashlights come on. Shit. My count is off. I realize they're pointed at me, though I can see everything perfectly with my fancy goggles, as if the lights were on in the room.
“HALT!” I say powerfully.
Some of the stupid mobsters say things like “Augh!” and “What the-!” and even a feeble “Hey!” The slightly smarter ones just scowl. One of them smiles. Creepy. But the Boss stays quiet and rolls his eyes at his cronies. He smacks himself in the face out of exasperation. “You came in the front door, didn't you. TONY, you told me the front was all clear!” Tony shrugs and apologizes. Boss hits a shamed Tony over the head with his flashlight. I speak up again.
“There will be no wrong-doing here tonight.” Big Moe glares at me. Apparently he's not the monologuing type of mastermind; when he speaks he speaks quietly, as if he's had problems with high blood pressure in the past. It's terrifying nonetheless.
“Get her.”

Five mobsters come at me simultaneously. They all have weapons – clubs, knives, rope – and I see guns under their jackets. I kick the first and punch the second two, and while I've got the fourth in a choke-hold, I headbutt the last. It takes about seven seconds. Four of them are knocked out and the fifth is writhing on the floor clutching his forehead. I keep my place in front of the vault. Now the six mobsters that are left start chuckling and smiling at me. The Boss snaps and Tony moves over in little bits, but I stop paying attention to him and demand what's so funny. Who wants some more? I got plenty to go around. COME ON. Why are you laughing?! The laughter of others gives me adrenaline. It's slightly controllable, but once it gets going, it's difficult to stop. The Boss speaks up.
“New costume, eh?” I stare at him. “What, are you sensitive about it? Did you dry it for too long? What happened?” He lets out a little smile and chuckles. I try to keep my breathing and shaking under control. “You know you've got to invest in a little dry cleaning once in a while. And for Pete's sake, who's feeding you? You go to that bakery down the street, don't you? That's a great place. The marzipan is good isn't it? Are the brownies your favorite?” He's mocking me. I'm shaking visibly now, but I'm also trying to desperately fight the smile that wants to erupt. This reminds me of how my friends tease me sometimes. What am I doing? Concentrate. This is your enemy. Big Moe. Wanted for approximately a billion different counts. He's mocking you. CONCENTRATE. But he goes on, and the smile is creeping closer to the surface, though I haven't given in yet. “And those cupcakes, you probably eat them by the dozen, don't you. Look at those lovehandles..” He moves his head to the side like he's looking around me. “Nothing wrong with that, of course, it looks like you've got good taste in beer. Nice dark beer. No lite crap for you, eh? Who needs abs when you have superpowers, eh?” Just as my smile breaks the surface I feel two arms wrap around me. No! How could I lose concentration! It's Tony, who had been edging around me in a large circle while his Boss distracted me. I should have known. But it's alright, I'll just turn around and give him a nice headbutt- but then Moe speaks again.
“Tickle her belly button.”





No. He couldn't possibly know that. How could he know my weakness? I've never shown it before! How could he know? How-- but in my panic Tony starts to wiggle his fingers into my belly fat. I immediately scream and break out in huge giggles, those really rapid, girly giggles that echo through the room. I try to shove him off of me but I'm already too weak. The surprise made me laugh more than I would have normally. Tony digs his pointer finger into my belly button and shakes it around, almost like he was trained to do this. I scream and yell and snort and laugh, collapsing to the ground. He turns me over and starts to jiggle the top of my butt cheeks and my love handles. I can feel how much more it waves around freely than it used to and I start laughing again. My belly is bouncing against the cold floor, which doesn't help anything. Tony is gaining confidence. He wiggles his surprisingly nimble fingers up my ribs, in between each one, to my armpits and my neck. He grabs the bottom hem of my shirt and snaps it back onto my belly, and does the same thing to my butt. I'm completely helpless. But I refuse to beg. I laugh harder and harder and feel myself getting weaker. Everyone is chuckling at me. Finally the Boss speaks up.

“Alright Tony, that's enough.” Tony keeps wiggling his fingers for an extra second. “TONY. That's enough.” He stops and chuckles and bounds back to his Boss like a puppy proud of catching a frisbee. I lay o the floor, giggling, trying desperately to stop doing so, but I keep remembering the Moe's insults, which are rather hilarious to me now. He got them all right on the money. The brownies are my favorite. And I tend to buy those amazing cupcakes by the dozen. Has he been spying on me? I think about when I get home at night and stand in front of my mirror sometimes, patting my big belly and pushing it out. That makes me giggle more. What if he saw that. Hehehehehe. Oh God. Concentrate. They wait for me to regain my composure and I start to feel my strength coming back. I stand up slowly. The only thing worse than making eye contact would to not make eye contact. So I stare them all down.

“Ahh, so it seems we've found a little weak spot, haven't we. Boys, do you think we've found a little weakspot on our little superhero?” The cronies grunt in unison. The Boss rolls his eyes again. “Well what are you waiting for, get her again! I'll take care of the vault!” Five mobsters run ahead of their strolling Boss. I get ready and though I'm a little giggly I can still fight. I try to run to them. My head snaps back, and the rest of me follows. I stumble backwards and look behind me, only to see that my cape is stuck in the vault door. It must have gotten stuck there while he was tickling me! How! This is impossible! My adrenaline spikes and I get in fight mode. I elbow one mobster with a silly looking stocking over his face in the gut, but a second grabs my belly and immediately starts shaking it. I burst out in giggles again and fall, my cape holding me up in a very embarrassing position. I'm swinging around in the radius it allots me, only my heels on the ground. I'm whacking and flailing around wildly with my arms and my legs. My strength is draining. More hands find pudgy places and start shaking. I'm going crazy. Then someone takes off my goggles – the room goes pitch black except for random flashlight beams. Now at least four pairs of hands are on me. I'm still trapped by my dumb useless cape. I can't get away no matter how desperate I am. Someone is squeezing my thighs, hard. Someone is kneading my ribs with their knuckles. At least two pairs of hands are smooshing and squishing and shaking my belly. Even one of my boots has come off and the arch of my foot is getting raked by long fingernails. I can faintly hear the Boss, telling me I should have thought twice about indulging... it's too bad you have such a lovely weakness... too bad you're so vulnerable and defenseless, eh..? I'm belly-laughing so hard I can barely breathe, giggling and snorting in between the breaths I can muster. My abs hurt and never fail to keep bouncing my already-tickled tummy... but for some reason those fingers feel like theyre releasing my embarrassment and relieving my vulnerability, my weakness... I keep fighting until suddenly, I just let go, and giggle endlessly, inviting more wiggling fingers into my fat belly... and then I fall away. I've blacked out.

I wake up with a start in the back of a moving vehicle. I'm still groggy and sluggish. I take off my blindfold. It doesn't help much; the back of the van is almost as dark. I'm sitting on six giant bags, out of which hundred dollar bills are spilling. I look around and then up through the caged window at the front compartment. Tony is driving, following two identical black Lincolns. Big Moe turns around in the passenger seat. He lifts up a large, soft, blue feather and smiles at me. I lose consciousness again...








I wake up in an old wicker chair. My brain is all fuzzy again.. what just happened. Then I remember flashes of Tony opening the back of the van, feather in hand. A flash of him turning me over and dusting my butt. Then a flash of him jabbing my belly while the feather tickles my neck. Then a flash of the sound of my own giggles and belly laughs. Oh. Shit. ok I fainted again. Stupid giggles. What a stupid weakness. Stupid. But I smile internally. I start to gain consciousness a bit faster now. I realize all the gangsters are around me chuckling. It's giving me a bit of an adrenaline buzz. I tell them subconsciously to keep laughing. I need the strength. If only I could tickle one of them, the most hopelessly ticklish one. That would send me through the roof, probably literally. Some of the mobsters are sitting around in random chairs smoking cigars. Some are standing with their arms crossed, chuckling or frowning or smirking at me. Others are lying on cots and dilapidated couches in the corner; I realize those are the ones I beat up earlier. I look up and around. I'm in a warehouse. I think I might have even foiled a terrorist plot here a couple years ago with batman or something. Anyway I recognize it as one of the big warehouses on the docks. I hear seagulls and smell the tide. I crane my neck as far as it'll go and see Big Moe behind me, standing next to a table filled with a random assortment of things I don't yet acknowledge fully.

"Good morning little Plump Pumpkin." His voice is pretty raspy and deep and Boss-sounding so it's silly to hear him try and patronize me with pet names. That's when I see the feather on the table. Next to a prank hand-buzzer. A small plunger. Feather duster. Vacuum cleaner. Big Moe walks around the table, touching each of his prized possessions, picking it up and examining it. He's trying to intimidate me and it's working pretty well. I try not to look at the vacuum and tell him calmly that I'll do whatever he likes, just let me go. Now... please. The mobsters chuckle and my heart races again. I look down at my belly and find that it looks even bigger than in the van. Why does this place have to be so damn well-lit? My three big rolls are looking especially poofy. My belly button is hidden inside one of the creases. hehehe. Oh and perfect, great, the back of the chair is made so theres a space right where my butt is. I can tell this chair isn't particularly made for someone like me; that space is almost too small for my squishy butt. Mr Tony, however, has found a way to tie me so it's forced through the hole. My cheeks are not only exposed but accentuated by this wicker chair. I smile at the view and that I can even see the freckle on it. I look to my other side and notice the mirror on the wall. I've got too good of a view of my belly fat, and even the edge of my ass poking out, round and soft and jiggly. My cape hangs uselessly behind me. Big Moe walks over to me with his feather and asks if I want to meet it. Or would I rather have a cupcake?


"You know the cupcake sounds appealing but I doubt your feather would be of any interest, Moe."
The Boss walks slowly around the chair and pauses in front of me before he tickles my ear with it. I restrain my smile with all my strength, and I think it might have worked. Maybe. I need to work on being more convincing.
"Was that a little smile I saw?"
"Nope."
"Not even the tiniest giggle?" His deep voice sounds so ridiculous and makes me want to laugh. Damn it, concentrate!
"Nope." I turn a giggle into a throat-clearing noise.
"Are you... sure?" And on that last word he places the feather on my neck and wiggles it ever so slightly, but thats all I need. A giggle boils up and bursts out but I stop it short. I'm starting to sound muffled and snorty. Which is even funnier. "Ahhh I see, there it is, you're right, it was hiding..." Moe wiggles the feather faster all around my neck, and he's got his face really close like he's inspecting the dusting job he's doing, making my giggles turn into laughs. My belly starts to bounce and I know it's only going to get worse. Moe makes an exaggerated exclamation and moves the feather down to my belly. He glides the feather in the creases of my rolls, each time with a little more enthusiasm. I laugh harder and my belly bounces higher. I can see my butt shaking in my reflection. Why does that mirror have to be there? Without looking away, Moe calls out to one of his cronies.

"Mario!" He snaps and points to the table. Mario runs to the tools and picks up the hand buzzer. Apparently they all have their specialties or something. He half-skips over to the chair, buzzing it in his own hand, testing to see if I start to beg. He's right.
"Ok.. woah woah woah... stop right there. hehehehe ok STOP seriously get that thing away from me. Please stop.. let me go thats all I asked for! No no no no no no get away from there, leave my butt alone. What are you doing? No! heheheeh please STOP NO HAHAHAHAHA..." but it's too late, Mario plants his hand on one cheek like he's trying to pink belly it, but the buzzer gets to it first. My fat starts to vibrate and ripple and shake and I can hardly stand it. Bzzzz bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz bz bz bz bz bz bzzzzzzzzz bzz BZZZZZZZZZZZ


I can't stand the buzzer. I can feel my butt vibrating. I look up at the mirror. Now I can see it vibrating. My whole torso is jiggling because I'm bouncing up and down so much trying to get away, but my feet are tied and my handcuffs are tied down as well. The gangsters are laughing almost as hard as I am, so the two effects are canceling out... I can't escape, and maybe worse, I can't pass out. I have to endure this? hehehehe.. my butt looks ridiculous in the mirror though. The two sides are bouncing independent of each other, in different directions. I can't help laughing harder and harder. Mario gives me a couple more BZZZZZZs, pressing the buzzer deep into my fat love handles and both cheeks, before Big Moe calls to Anthony. Another Tony, great. Stupid Italians. But Anthony picks up the plunger. Shit.

The mobsters shift in their places as their smirks get wider. I know this can't be good. A plunger? Really? I'm praying that my giggles will overwhelm theirs so I can pass out; the opposite is going to be completely impossible, obviously. Why am I so bad at this superhero thing? I'm supposed to be fighting crime and kicking ass and punching people. What a weakness to have. I wish it were kryptonite instead. But then I get a glimpse of my own reflection with Anthony behind me, smiling into the mirror and hitting his palm repeatedly with the plunger. I'd like to think I'm not THAT pudgy, to be able to use a plunger on me and actually work.. but another glance at my belly and I giggle. Who am I kidding. It actually feels pretty good to giggle and belly laugh so much, without feeling faint... suddenly I'm motivated to entice them for more.

"Bring it on, Tony II. And keep laughing," throwing my chin out at all the others in the room. Momentarily incredulous, Anthony regains his smirk and leaps over to me. He draws up, and then plants the plunger directly in the center of my middle roll, below where my belly button is hiding. His smirky eyes meet mine for a second but I'm already laughing- and he starts plunging. It makes this ridiculous slurping noise and I can barely stand to listen to it, let alone feel it. All the mobsters can't help but break out in big belly laughs, but it doesn't matter. My heart keeps racing as I giggle and snort and silent laugh and beg for him to stop. But he won't.. and Big Moe isn't helping by teasing me.
"We've gotta find that belly button, don't we JigglyPuff? Where did it go? Hiding somewhere in those plump rolls, eh... we'll find it there, girly, don't you worry.. oh beeelllllly buttonnnn.. where aaaaare youuu...?"
I laugh harder and harder until my abs hurt and my face is bright red. I can hardly breathe. The plunger looks shiny and new and made out of hard red rubber but it's actually quite flexible and soft. It digs into that poor roll, pushes all the air out, and then as he brings it up it makes that vacuum noise. I look down and see that it's leaving a bunch of red circles on my belly. Great, plunger hickeys.. Some of the mobsters are doubled over in laughter, and that makes my silly desperation all that more pronounced. I beg and beg for Moe to call it off, call it OFF I tell you, PLEASE HAHAHAHAHAHAHA oh my goDDD PLEASEEEEEEheeehehehehehehe tell him to STOPP


Then suddenly the Boss speaks up. "Lets get 'er back to basics, eh boys?" Anthony plunges one more time and steps back. I exhale a huge sigh of relief and let my giggles die down. But he leaps forward and gives me one last plunge. I squeal loudly in surprise and snort. He finally walks away leaving me embarrassed, out of breath, and hopelessly giggly. Two of the others walk over to me. I see Big Moe smile and nod, and one steps forward, without hesitating, and slaps by belly rather abruptly. Everyone in the room bursts out in laughter. I shriek and start yelling in protest. But I can't stop giggling. Now there's a big handprint over dozens of red circles on my belly. It's definitely getting a lot of battle scars... but I refuse to give in. "WHAT THE HELL was that FOR, you.. you.. CRIMinal.. hahahaha like PLEASE, TRY THAT AGAIN. Try it again! Come on, what are you waiting for, slap my big jigglypuff belly! Bring it ONHAHAHAHAHAH-" he slaps it again before I can finish. This time my eyes subconsciously flick over to the mirror where I watch my stomach jiggle from the impact, propagating its own little shockwave from roll to roll, my fat wiggling and waving.. and then the next handprint appears. I laugh harder than anyone else in the room. Why is this so fucking funny to me? It's pretty amazing, I must admit. My instincts are telling me to escape, but I can't help the belly laughs and snorts. Then he walks behind me, and reaches both hands over my shoulders. He starts drumming on my belly like a congo drum. I giggle that really girly giggle and a couple of the mobsters point at me while they laugh. My eyes are shut tight and I wouldn't be able to stop laughing if my life depended on it. Actually right now it looks like it does. I've pretty much left embarrassment behind a while ago though... he keeps going on my belly, slapping one roll, then the next, then the other, then all three alternately, then my squishy sides. The jiggle and bounce together; I swear I can even hear them making a "boingboing" sound as they do. He comments on how much fatter and squishier I feel than it even looks. "You gotta try this," he says to the other gangster standing beside me. "Give 'er the berries."


I think I know what he means but I hope I'm wrong. Let it be actual berries. Please. But that doesn't make sense. Are they going to feed me? Blueberries. Strawberries. Boysenberries. Anything but that... and in the middle of this train of denial I see a face woosh by mine and realize someone has doubled over the back of the chair. I look down and can barely comprehend that another mobster's face is in my belly. Deep into my fat. I scream at first but then when I hear that sound start I just laugh and laugh until my face is red again and my belly feels just about to burst. PHBHBHBBBBBHHBHBHB is all I can hear over my giggles and the laughter of the other cronies. But then I hear something else.. bzzz... bzzzzzz BZ BZ BZ BZ BZZZZZZZZZZZ and then that electric vibration hits my butt again and I squeal and shriek as he buzzes my whole butt like he's making sure he doesnt miss a spot. I really can't take it anymore. I fall into silent laughter and I'm forced to hear all the other gangsters' chuckles. But then I realize I'm gaining strength rapidly, and either out of panic or pure determination, I break my foot bonds and immediately get up and start running, mostly around in circles. I realize how ridiculous I look with the chair bouncing against my calves with each step, yelling and giggling and trying to find a way out. But I see no door. I hear a pistol and my the legs of my chair go flying out from under me and I hit the ground on my back, still sitting tight. I felt the button to my pants come undone and heard it PINGGG off of some distant wall. Apparently it was dying to come off. But now my tummy is no longer made of rolls it's just one big poofy bulge of soft fat that jiggles and waves even more freely than before. And even though my back is to the ground, I know that my butt is completely exposed now- I might as well be naked. Why do my butt and belly always seem like theyre competing for attention? I mentally tell them to shut up and calm down and get over themselves and maybe HIDE themselves if possible. But I'm talking to my pudge. Hehehehee. Then Big Moe comes and stands over me while his loyal band laugh their asses off at me. "What do we have here, boys? Now her tummy is begging for even more attention. And I bet that butt's hangin out quite a bit more, eh?



I'm dying. Giggling. Silently laughing. My belly is shaking. My hips are shaking. My butt is shaking. My thighs are shaking. I'm falling into unconsciousness only to come back out again, like I'm on a swing. But then the silent laughter breaks and my giggles come back in full. Big Moe had brought out the vacuum. He had walked right over to me there on my back still sitting in my wicker chair, and held out the tube nozzle so I could see it. I stared at it. One tiny giggle came out. But then it was all over when he turned it on. There was no stopping anyone in the warehouse from laughing as hard as they could, especially me. But the Boss was the only one to remain with just a smile on his face, and I can't figure out how he accomplished such a thing. With a vacuum and a belly like mine around. I mean really. I watched the nozzle rattle and vibrate to life, greedily sucking in all the air it could. It's way too noisy, like all those old crappy vacuum cleaners, and it intimidated my poor belly into quivers. Nervous giggles kept bubbling up as I watched the nozzle come closer and closer to my big round vulnerable tummy. Finally it grabs my pudge from about an inch up like a magnet and refuses to let go. I can feel that little circular section of fat vibrate and shake inside the nozzle. I feel like I'm literally dying with laughter. But because the others feel the same way, I'm kept mostly awake and aware of what's going on. I've gotten so unbelievably ticklish over these past months indulging in cupcakes and pies! How could I have overlooked that when this is my weakness? Or maybe I didn't overlook it at all.. Moe yanks the vacuum off with one hand and jiggles my round belly with one hand. It swings from side to side surprisingly well on its own. He keeps shaking and jiggling while he plunges the vacuum into my belly again, so the wave he jiggles breaks against the nozzle and makes it pop off, only to instantaneously reattach itself onto a slightly different spot on my belly. He migrates down to my belly button and pretends to try and steal it, to more of my giggling insanity. I'm snorting and belly laughing - which makes me bounce even more - and I'm so far beyond begging that I can't even try. It tickles so much, and I should be fear for my life but I really dont, and my panic feels silly and makes me want to giggle and enjoy it. But I really am getting tickled like a freaking maniac, it's almost not fair. My belly is having fun at least, I think as my giggles get stronger and Moe turns the vacuum up to Thick Carpet.

"Your belly is having fun, eh?" I glance at him surprised and wonder if I said that out loud. It seems like he's almost whispering because of how loud it is in the room, full of giggles and laughter and teasing and vacuum noises. The fact that he's whispering just makes it even more intimidating and silly. Then he pushes me to the side so he can get to my backside. He makes an exaggerated noise pretending like I'm too heavy to move easily. Then I feel the vacuum magnetically attach itself to my lovehandle. I shriek and giggle and then bounce and struggle hopelessly while I feel the nozzle move, without breaking the suction, from my lower back to my butt, then up and back down to the other cheek. I'm practically screaming with laughter and snorting and trying to breathe, but now Moe has taken to plunging and yanking off the vacuum really rapidly over and over again, so I'm getting more little red circles all over my butt in rapid succession. I hear him call something. Bzzzz. The buzzer comes on again. My eyes bulge and I laugh hysterically at the last few sucking pops of the vacuum, but they would be the last. There was only so much I could take. That was simply it. I let myself fall into a silent laugh, listened to the gang chuckle and belly laugh away. When a hand with the buzzer on it comes into view I simply break away from the chair. The handcuffs only break from one hand so they dangle from my right wrist only. I leap off the ground into the air, floating there and still giggling a bit, but my biology has taken over apparently. I must get out of here. My suit is completely useless; my pants are pretty much all the way down and my butt is hanging out, while my belly is looking rather bulbous and liberated from the confines of buttons. I look down and while all the others look surprised, the Boss is still staring at me, smiling just as wide as he was before. I look at him for a second, and I think I see him mouth something before I fly straight upwards and through the rotting roof. Don't forget those cupcakes, my dear. We'll be watching..