And pushed...pushed...pushed...
Hippolyta felt the contact with her daughter growning both strained...and more powerful. She reached out and contacted the invading mind, challenging it...confronting it...
"Fool! You DARE to think that you can---" (shift)
Hippolyta shook her head and looked about at. Her throne room had vanished...replaced with a strange world of flashing lights, strange smells...and a sea of hooting men. She stumbled back, overbalenced and reaching out for something to keep her from falling
over. A silver pole stopped her fall, and she spun about in confusion. She tried to control her spin and wrapped her leg about the pole, then lurched out towards the men and almost fell over. She stopped just short ("Stoopid fuckin' tits is way too big! Geez,
why dids I needs ta gets such a big setta implants? Des tings is breaken' my back!") and almost fell again before throwing herself back and sinking down to her knees - which was a pain with her bright red, six-inch heels ("Sure luvs me super hot stilettos.
Dey makes me big butt jiggle jus' great, and my legs look like...totally hot.") but caused her massive, wobbling breasts to swing wildly...slapping together and sloshing about like water baloons. She saw an entire wall of mirrors, and in them...she saw a tiny,
vulgar little tramp. A cheap, sleazy piece of ass. She wore tons of thick, slutty makeup ("Chee! All dat mascara makes me eyes look...like jus' great! I looks like a babe what wants t' suck every dick in da woild!") and her long, thick hair was like a big
blond cape of peroxide, hairspray and tumbling faux-gold. She danced, wiggled and shook her shoulders, causing her boobs to jiggle wildly...jus' likes da boys wants ta see. She giggled, and winked at all the men...her inner thighs slick with juices.
"There she is!" called a man in a suit to her left. "That classy chassie! That saucy lassy! Give it up for everyones favorite fucktoy...Holly Lotta!"
Holly Lotta - not wanting to end the fun so soon - paused and shook her butt at the crowd. She giggled and winked, looking naughty and sin.
Holly Lotta...she was Holly Lotta...she felt so strange. Didn't she hate men or something? Nah, she was totally a hot babe, an' hot babes jus' LUVS tah sucks dick an' eats pussy! For that matter...hadn't she been tawkin ta someone? Oh yeah! She scampered
to the dressing room (pausing to let some of the other gals fondle her massive breasts) before she snatched up her bright pink, glitter-spangled cellphone and squealed "Hey, ma! Did's yah heah da way dose guys waz (giggle) eaten me up? Dis is d' bes' job eva',
ma!"
Doris Queenly frowned, then smiled. How could she have forgotton? Her daughter - only just barely old enough to do so legaly - had just gone on stage and knocked their socks off. She was always a crazy, man-hungry tramp and Doris hadn't even tried to control
her wild daughters hungers. After all, Holly was just a fun-loving girl. She talked with her daughter, eating the whole time and nodding as Holly Queenly ("Holly Lotta" on stage) gushed and giggled about men and sex and dicks and her new fake tits. Doris had
sprung for the expensive fuckbags, and Hollys dancing paid for the food that Doris gorged on, with plenty left over to keep Holly in slutty clothes and high heels. She loved her tiny daughter...and Holly loved her big, fat momma.
Doctor Psycho blinked his eyes, amazed that he'd been able to do what he'd just done. He'd scooped a near goddess up and deposited her in downtown Metropolis as a simple-minded, huge-breasted stripper....and had reversed the positions between herself and
her daughter. Now "Holly" was the daughter, and "Doris" the mother!
When he came out of his trance...he saw Lois Lane had returned, but she now waore a mans suit, hat and tie...and smoked a cigar with a smirk. She'd grown larger and more muscular...and bside her sat her husband, Superman. Clark Kent wore what Doctor Psycho
didn't recognize as a Silver Age era Lois Lane outfit. A calf-length skirt, plouse and jacket, string of pearls and matching pillbox hat. He was smaller, slim and effeminate as heck. His glasses had become cute catseye frames. His hair was still short but
set in a girlish bob. He looked confused as he opened his purse and checked his makeup in his compact.
"Well, Louis...I see you've brought your blushing bride Clare."
"Clare?" mumbled the fading Superman in womanish tones.
"Yes. You're Mister and Misses Lane. Lou and Clare. Don't you remember?"
Meanwhile, Brucie had managed to get ahold of her big, strong Alfie and was weeping over what a bitch "Dis broad" had been. Alfred looked at the Catwoman and smiled. "I know you're confused, but you see...he's on a case. Getting ready foy going deep undersover.
Here...perhaps if you spoke with Doctor Bates you'd understand..."