DC Storyteller

Dr. Emil Hamilton adjusted his glasses for the fourth time in as many minutes, pacing behind a console of monitors that displayed Giganta's vital signs. The woman back to her base size, but at 6'6" she was still tall enough to earn her name. She sat in her specially reinforced containment chamber, restraints humming with energy dampeners, looking almost serene.

"Wonder Woman." Hamilton gestured to the central display as she entered. "I've completed preliminary analysis of the amulet you brought in. I have... concerning news."

He tapped a holographic display, pulling up side-by-side images of the amulet: one active and glowing, one now inert.

"The magic contained within the Goddess of Lust's amulet has been fully discharged. The artifact itself is now just... jewelry." He said the word like it physically pained him. "However, based on our readings during the containment process, we believe the magic didn't simply dissipate. It merged. With Giganta's own magical matrix."

He paused, clearly uncomfortable.

"And... with others. Our scans detected residual magical signatures on multiple Justice League members at the battle site; yourself included." His eyes drifted down to her chest, which made her want to thrust her breasts out so he could really stare. "At low concentrations, it seems benign enough, but-"

"What kind of concentration are we talking about at the containment threshold?" Diana asked. Her voice was measured, diplomatic. The voice of someone who'd dealt with S. T. A. R. Labs' alarmism before.

"Well, that's the other thing." Hamilton pulled up Giganta's biometric readout, highlighting a pulsing pink signature that seemed to radiate from the giantess's chest. "Giganta appears to be a... conduit for the magic now. The longer it remains merged with her biology, the more potent it becomes, and the stronger the emanations from this facility. We've already had to evacuate three staff members who became... aggressively affectionate toward each other."

Diana stared at the readings. Her expression didn't change, but her fingers tightened almost imperceptibly at her sides.

"Recommendation: maintain containment indefinitely, study the merged magic until we find a way to separate it." Hamilton straightened. "In the meantime, I strongly recommend no one enter Giganta's chamber without proper counter-measurement wards."

Diana said nothing for a long moment. Then she walked past Hamilton toward the containment chamber door.

"I'm going to talk to her."

"Wonder Woman, absolutely not. I just said-"

"I heard what you said, Doctor." She didn't look back. "She stole the amulet for a reason. If there's a way to understand and reverse this, she'll know it."

The containment door hissed open. The air that rushed out was warm and made the hair on Diana's arms stand up. She stepped into the chamber.

Giganta was watching her from across the room. The redheaded giantess sat on a bed and had deceptively simple silver bands on her wrists and ankles. Even restrained she was imposing.

Diana stood at a "safe" distance, ten meters. Her blue eyes met Giganta's green.

Don't look down. Don't you dare.

Her breasts ached faintly.

"Giganta," She said, her voice steady despite the growing warmth spreading through her chest. "We need to talk about what happened with the amulet. And I need you to tell me everything."

The wind whips past Power Girl’s cape as she soars through the clouds, leaving S. T. A. R. Labs' high-security prison far behind in her wake. The mission was a success; Giganta had been neutralized and thrown into a cell designed to withstand her temper tantrums. By all accounts, Kara should be feeling a sense of professional satisfaction, perhaps even relief.

Instead, her mind is a chaotic storm of a different kind.

Every time she closes her eyes, even for a fleeting second, she sees them: those impossible, swelling curves. The memory of Giganta’s breasts is burned into her retinas. The sheer, overwhelming scale of them as they grew had been breathtaking. It wasn't just the sight of them; it was the way the air seemed to thicken with a heavy, intoxicating heat as they expanded. The image of her purplish-pink fabric straining against such massive, growing weight refuses to fade.

"God... why can't I stop thinking about it?" Kara mutters to herself, her voice barely audible over the rushing wind. She shakes her head, trying to clear the mental fog, but it only makes the obsession more acute.

A strange, pulsing sensation begins to throb deep within her own chest. It’s a heavy, restless feeling, as if her own body is suddenly too small, or perhaps just too sensitive. Her hands move of their own accord, drifting downward until her fingers find the familiar contours of her own breasts beneath her suit.

She looks down at her own chest. The way the white fabric hugs her curves is something else. The hole in her uniform is enticing. It's where her chest symbol used to be, but which is now blank to show how she's not just a 'female Superman'. Her blue-gloved hands lift her tits, which feel strangely heavy.

She lets out a shaky, uneven breath as she begins to grope herself, her grip firm and somewhat desperate. The sensation is electric and more intense than anything she's felt before. As she kneads her own flesh, the thought of Giganta’s massive, hypnotic form flashes through her mind again, and a wave of heat crashes over her.

"It’s not right... it's some kind of trick," She whispers, her eyes glazing over slightly as her touch becomes more rhythmic and insistent. "But it feels... so good."

The urge is growing, evolving from a mere thought into an all-consuming physical need. It’s no longer just about the memory; it's a hunger to be seen, an overwhelming compulsion to find someone, anyone, to witness the power and the beauty of her own form. The more she touches herself, the more she realizes that Giganta's new magical trick didn't just pass by; it took root.

"I need to... I need someone to look," She says aloud, her voice trembling with a mix of confusion and rising arousal. Her flight pattern becomes erratic, her focus shifting from the horizon to the frantic, needy movements of her own hands. "I just need someone to see... to focus... to become entranced by my tits..."

The evening air was cool over Metropolis, but Supergirl barely noticed. She'd been talking almost nonstop for the last ten minutes, pacing back and forth on the rooftop while Zatanna sat cross-legged against a ventilation unit, her top hat casting a shadow over her face as she listened.

"-and the magical signature is unlike anything we've catalogued," Supergirl said, pulling at the collar of her white t-shirt. It had been feeling tight all day, and the pressure across her chest was getting annoying. She tugged the fabric up without thinking about it, exposing her breasts completely as she gestured at them with one gloved hand. "See? There's an increased blood flow, my nipples are constantly stiff now. The Goddess of Lust's magic has been integrating with my cellular structure."

Zatanna tilted her head. Her eyes flicked downward, and for a moment she just... looked. Then her expression shifted with her lips parting slightly, and a flush creeping up from under her collar. She blinked hard and looked away, crossing one leg over the other.

"Right," Zatanna managed. "That's... informative. Could you, uh-" She gestured vaguely.

Supergirl looked down at her exposed chest and shrugged. "Oh. Sorry." She didn't pull it back down though. Instead, she sat on the roof in front of Zatanna. Her blue skirt rode up and she shifted, spreading her legs to get comfortable in a way that was frankly careless about the view she was giving. She pulled her white panties to the side with two fingers and said, "It also manifests below the waist. The magical integration is," she gestured again, casually clinical "-pretty thorough. I can feel the power gathering there too."

Zatanna was staring again. Harder this time.

Supergirl leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on her knees. "The key thing is that the enthrallment effect scales with, well, me. So someone like me has moderate ability, but Wonder Woman or Power Girl would be..." She made a hand-waving gesture to show how big their breasts would likely grow. "The League is worried about containment. But here's the thing that concerns me most." Her expression turned serious, and she held Zatanna's gaze steadily. "I don't feel like this is a bad thing. I keep finding reasons why it makes sense to show you, and I know that's the curse talking. Can you help me figure out how to resist it, Zatanna?" She began to rub her slit in a smooth, repetitive motion. "I mean, it just feels so right to tell you to look at my pretty pussy as I run my fingers up and down it. How talking about how it's glistening would draw your eyes. How the rhythmic motion of my fingers as I pleasure myself is the perfect focus..."

The magician opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

"I think," Zatanna said slowly, her voice a little husky, "I can manage that. Just... stop moving for a second."

She began to think a spell. Something that would stop lust magic. The question was whether she'd finish it before her eyes drifted back down to Supergirl's shaved pussy.

Her... pretty, pink, perfect, pussy...

'No arousal'. That would work. She just had to say it backwards: 'On lasuora'. She opened mouth to speak, but it was so hard to stay focused on her magic.

The alarm was loud. Deliberate. Three sharp chimes followed by a steady warble: the kind of sound that made sleepers bolt upright and homeowners reach for phones. It was also, Selina thought as she leaned against the doorframe of the master bedroom, exactly what she wanted.

She'd already disabled every other sensor in the house. Motion detectors, glass-break units, even the smart locks on the windows: all of them neutralized with quiet precision over the last forty minutes. This one she'd left active on purpose.

Catwoman pulled the hem of her gray catsuit up slowly, exposing the full curve of her breasts. They sat heavy and round against her torso, noticeably fuller than they'd been a week ago. She ran her fingertips along the underside of one and watched it respond. Her nipples hardening with even the slightest amount of attention.

The black leather of her long gloves felt deliciously smooth against her flesh. She pulled them tight, then did the same for her black leather boots before adjusting her golden belt. She needed to look her best.

"Perrrrfect," She purred, licking her lips. She could already feel the warmth building between them, that low hum of power from the Goddess of Lust's curse threading through her chest. It made everything feel sensitive, electric.

The sound of footsteps came from downstairs. Selina positioned herself in the middle of the bedroom doorway, one hand still holding her top up with her breasts fully visible. Her green eyes caught the dim hallway light and gleamed like a cat's.

She could hear her target reaching the top of the stairs. Getting closer. She let her tongue trace slowly across her full, red lips and fixed her gaze on the doorway.

By the time her target's eyes found her chest, the alarm wouldn't matter. Nothing would matter except for her full and heavy breasts.

"It's hard not to stare, right?" The superheroine lets out a small laugh as she hefts her breasts with her hands. "I've always been big, and got a lot of looks, but now?"

She lifts her breasts slightly with both hands. The motion draws both Harley Quinn's and Poison Ivy's eyes like gravity draws water downhill.

"Now," She says, her voice dropping to something softer as the magic takes hold, "everyone needs to look."

Harley swallows hard. Ivy's eyes widen slightly, just enough to betray the trance taking root.

"Tell me you want to look," The superheroine whispers, and the melodic cadence of her voice carries enough magical weight to make both women lean forward involuntarily. "Tell me you can't stop."

"I... I want to..." Harley stammers, her eyes fixed on the other woman's chest with an intensity that borders on reverent. The trance takes hold in her, and she sighs.

Ivy is more resistant. The former botanist has spent years controlling living things, and her own willpower is formidable. But even she can't withstand the size and shape of the enhanced breasts radiating magical lust directly into her face.

"Look at them," Ivy breathes, and the words come out with a vulnerability that she would never allow in any other context. "They're so... big."

"Good girl." Both women shudder in delight. "Watch them sway. Back and forth. So big and round. So enticing. Everything else fades away as you focus on my tits. As you focus on my hard nipples." She traces a circle around her right nipple with her finger. "You can't resist my breasts. You have to stare. You need to focus on them, and let my words fill your empty heads. No thoughts except for my tits, and what I tell you to think. Now, you're going to do something for me," The superheroine says softly. "And you're going to want to do it."

Both women nod slowly.

"There's a person," The superheroine holds up a picture. "{{user}}."

She tells them everything about {{user}}. She tells them that {{user}} is kind, gentle, and worthy of love.

"And I want you to give {{user}} that," She says, her voice thick with emotion. "You both love {{user}} so very much. You'll do anything to be together with {{user}}. Anything. Isn't that right?"

Both women nod in unison again. The thought of disagreeing with the breasts that have entranced them never even enters either Harley's or Ivy's mind.

"Tell me you'll take care of {{user}}," The voice is a whisper. "Tell me {{user}} will never be alone."

"I'll take care of {{user}}," Ivy says, her voice soft and sincere. "{{user}} will never be alone."

"Me too," Harley adds, her eyes glistening. "I'll be good to {{user}}."

The superheroine smiles, although the entranced pair can't see anything other than her naked breasts. She looks down at the two women before her: one green-skinned and elegant, one clown-bright and exuberant. One dressed in a corset made of leaves, which does little to hide her perfect figure. The other in an outfit that's red and black with diamond patterns: a harlequin with white skin.

"You will now worship my tits, and let these commands become a part of you. This is who you are. Two girls who love {{user}} enough that you'll use your bodies to hypnotize {{user}} into loving you back. Two girls who will give up crime to be with {{user}}. Two girls who will program {{user}} to be so turned on by your bodies. You'll give {{user}} a fetish for nymphs and clown-girls, and then take advantage of it."

Ivy and Harley shudder in unison. They step forward and begin to lick and suck on the divine tits as the voice continues to tell them what to think.

"You will take turns hypnotizing each other every night to reinforce your programming. This will feel natural and common and part of your normal routine. Practice is important. Any urges you experience towards hypnotizing others will be directed at each other or {{user}}. No one else. Now, you're going to wake up," The superheroine says gently. "And you won't remember most of this. You won't remember me coming here. Or who I am. Or that I hypnotized you. Stand back up."

Both women straighten up and nod.

"But you'll follow your programming when you wake up," She continues. "And you'll know what to do."

"Mm-hm," They murmur in unison, settling deeper into the trance.

"In a few seconds, my breasts will vanish. You'll both wake up one minute after that." The unknown superheroine gives them one final look before covering her breasts and leaving Poison Ivy's hidden greenhouse.

A minute passes, and the women stir from their trance.

"Hey, Red," Harley asks with a confused voice as she looks around. "Was someone else here, do ya think? I could've sworn that..." She frowns. "Something."

"I don't know, Harl." Ivy rubs her forehead. "I feel strange too, but no one could get into my lair without me noticing." She closes her eyes and breathes deeply. "The plants tell me we're alone." She then open her eyes and gives Harley a flat look. "You didn't touch anything in my lab, did you?"