(Sorry about the long delay. I've had - infact, still have - the Flu, and it's kicking my ass something fierce...)
The 5 rednecks must have thought she was some simpleminded local farm woman that they'd just never seen before, and the two who stood on eother side of her smirked and laughed as they got a real uinderstanding of her size. Lumbering, graceless and positively
elephantine, dispite her bulk she might have fought them off if it had come to blows, but...for her deeply woven feelings of subserviance. She'd managed to escape the Laveau house, but that had raken all her mental strength...and now, she was spent.
"Get in th' back, honey..." one of them laughed "...better t' ride then hav'ta waddle yer fat ass all th' way t' town?"
Town! They'd give her a ride into the closest town! That was where she had wanted to go!
"Weah is dat? Is we close t' Nawlins?" she babbled, envisioning a quick trip to New Orleans and a telephone call to the Avengers Mansion. She'd find SOME way to convince them of who she was...then she'd get a rescue party together...
The first shove from the biggest of them sent her stumbling against the back of the van, and the former Captain America bristled...then gave way. "Get inside, niggah..." he rumbled, indicating the enclosed camper cab on the back of the pickup truck. "...an'
don't dawdle. We's gots stuff tah do."
Meekly, she managed (with some help) into the back of the cab, which had nothing but an old matress, a bunch of pillows and several cases of beer. She hesitated, but the big one shoved again, and she lost her balence. The cab was closed, and the two who'd
gotten out...were inside with her.
"We goin' tah a party out in th' woods, bitch...an' we wuz suposed tah bring th' bitch. Find some cock-hungry cunt in town or find a hooker what wants fuckin'. But we got out late an' didn't find a bitch. You're a real life saver. We'll haul yo' fat ass
out an' fuck you till your eyes are crossed. What's yer name, bitch?"
She wanted to scream in horror, but instead - her feelings conflicted...
...she mumbled "Mah name be Mammy America."
They all gaped at her...then burst out laughing.
"Really?" said the smaller fellow who got in the back with them. "That's a fucked up name, honey. I'll bet yer folks kept you on th' farm yer whole life, huh? What are you...home school? I nevar seen no big, fatass nigger 'round town."
The former Steve Rogers was withering in humiliation, but even in this embaressing form...he managed to quickly weave a lie about not being a local, but rather that her parents were traveling through the state when they'd abandoned her by the side of the
road. She began to cry as she babbled, and the rednecks all exchanged looks. It was almost pity...almost compassion...but the big one said "So, nobody gonna be lookin' fer you, huh bitch? That suits us jus' fine. But...jus' in case...here...put these on."
Meekly, she took the cheap purse that was handed to her.
"Some black skank left it here after one of our parties, an' she ain't been back fer it. No ID or anythin'...just some makeup an' cheap jewelery."
She accepted the purse, but said "I...uh, I ain' nevah wore nothin' like dis. I dunno how tah..."
The smaller redneck (the one she was starting to think of as the 'nice' one) took the purse, then said "I've seen plenty of bitches puttin' makeup on...it ain't that hard." before laying down to much smokey foundation and blush, then covered her lips with
thick, red paint. Mascara and blue eye shadow was next, and the big redneck handed her a mixed collection of skimpy fluff which turned out to be a huge, thread-bare red nightie and some pink hose. They didn't fit her very well, because as big as they were...she
was much larger. Still, it gave her an 'exploding out of her clothes' look that seemed wanton and dirty. A drizzle of perfume rubbed into her black skin finished the job, after the small redneck unbraded her hair and fluffed it out into a large, sloppy afro.
A couple of flashy faux-gold earrings looked perfectly natural.
"Now, when we gets there an' someone asks yer name, you jus' tell'em you're...uh...Ah, jus' tell'em yer 'Big Mamma' an' you love t' fuck."
"But...I needs t' get t' a phone..."
"Big Mamma. Jus' keep sayin' it. Say..." and here he rose his voice into a cartoonish upper range "...'Ah'm Big Mamma, an' ah LUVS tah FUCK!'! Jus' keep sayin' it an' you'll get through this jus' fine.
(obey! obey! obey!)
"Uh...Ah'm Big Mamma, an' ah LUVS tah FUCK! Ah'm Big Mamma, an' ah LUVS tah FUCK! Ah'm Big Mamma, an' ah LUVS tah FUCK!" she said, mimicing his tone. She said it over and over again. she fondled her massive titties (as did the two rednecks in back with her)
and after a while...her voice seemed quite natural. Didn't she always talk like this? A sort of high, shrill babble like a hooker in a 70's exploitation flick. And who was she? Was she Big Mamma? Big Mamma was having a hard time remembering...
Then...the two rednecks gapes on shock...as the magic began.
The spells around her were still actice...and unknown to Captain America, the spell had been guided by his own memories and imagination. A child of the 20's, Cap had long since rejected his time periods ideas about race...but he'd never forgot what those
ideas were. His identity as "Mammy America" had been guided by his earliest memories of what his culture 'expected' a black woman to be like. Add to that the accepted images of the jolly, rotund "Aunt Jemimah" and the former Steve Rogers was basicly transforming
himself with his own old memories and opinions...
But the spell was still open...still active...and now simply reaching out for another source of information.
And ir found that...in the minds of the rednecks around them. They'd all seen "Fridays" and "House Party" and dozens of old Blacksplotation films that Captain America had never even heard of before. Thus...their personal opinions of race and personality
were driving the bus now. Cap didn't understand what these ideas were...so he didn't have much chance to resist them. They struck his identity like fresh paint on a blank canvas. All he could do was draw back into himself and try to hold on to his core...and
that core was all Captain America. The spell looked at that - thought it could deal with it - and went to work.
"Ie's...gotta be magic. Voodoo or somethin'..." said the small ('nicer') redneck. "...ah think she may be from th' ol' plantation. Gypsy Witch runs that place."
"Ain't...ain't no such thin' as...witches." mumbled the bigger one, but even he knew it was bullshit. What else could this be? The woman had been big - impossibly so - but she hadn't seemed magical or enchanted. But as they watched...she continued to babble
"Ah'm Big Mamma, an' ah LUVS tah FUCK!" it a a shrill, sassy voice rich with street tones. The clothes they'd forced onto her were...changing as well. Bright blue, spandex tube top forming...red pantie bottoms appearing that being lost under the swell of her
gut and the deep crevasse of her mountainous ass cheeks. Tight white hose attatched to a red garter belt were forming on her massive legs, from keg-thick thigh to solid cankle. Red leather boots formed, with thick heels and platforms adding to her already
impressive height. Gold jewelery formed and flashed from her thick fingers (tipped with long nails painted like miniature American flags), fat wrists, multi-chinned neck...a flashing golden trinket winked in the dark of her cavernous navel...from her smoothliy
shaved, thick-lipped snatch...three piercings formed along the length of her tongue...golden teeth glinted in her wide mouth...her hair ticked and shifted into an Angela Davis afro...
And still she chanted, just as she was ordered to...driving the spell deeper and deeper with each repition of the phrase "Ah'm Big Mamma, an' ah LUVS tah FUCK!". Still...there was a core the spell couldn't seem to touch. A core that the spell simply added
to itself. She was an extremely patriotic street ho, and every American service man could cound on a free blowjob from her talented mouth.
The truck pulled up at the party sight (an old cabin with lights strung around outside and a picnic table that groaned under the weight of kegs, cases and platters of takeout food. The back of the truck was opened, and the two rednecks scrambled quickly
out...followed by something was was sort of the woman they'd picked up...and also nothing at all like her. She slid out with a natural bump and grind, her massive body swaying and wobbling as she slipped the purse (which was now 'her' purse) over one shoulder,
saying in a high, shrill voice "Weah is de boys? Big Mamma be hoany as FUCK! Big Mamma be NEEDIN' dat meat!" before seeing the men by the picnic table...they looked shocked as heck by her appearance, but Big Mamma just laughed "Is dat all de men you gots?
Big Mamma gonna have t' fuck yo awl three times t' scratch th' itch she got. Mah puzzy jus' CRAVIN' yo thick meat, white boys!" as she wiggle/strutted over to them. She grabbed the first one she saw, engulfed him in her folds, and soon had him on the ground,
lips wrapped around his cock and moaning loudly.
"Shee-it..." said a giggling redneck "...is that niggah some kinda crazy fetish bitch or somp'thin'? She be big as a house! Real randy, though. Bitch like that'll fuck all of us an' never get tired."
The rednecks from the truck kept quiet about the magic, and the smaller one...thought he might just be in love.
"She's gone, Wanda." said the Vision, having had Jen Wally search the mansion and grounds "She must have snuck off a while ago."
That was a bother. The good Captain was coming along nicely. Now she'd have to start again...with a less perfect subject.
"Now then, you were saying?"
Tony Stark and Simon Williams exchanged glances. This was a dangerous situation, considering Wandas power level. That was obviously the Vision over there, and that was Quicksilver...and...was that...Magneto? And Charles Xavier?
Just then, Charles felt another anoying twinge, and he huffed. Wanda was right. He HAD to take care of this problem from his old students. He reached out and took Ericas hand and kissed it...then reached along into the mind of Jean Grey...and sent a distress
call. It would summon a few cartain X-Men to the club he worked...and there he (and Wanda) could take care of them.