Alfred had given him the right location, correct time to appear. But she wasn't there. Since the Joker gone of the gird Harley had been surprisingly allowed to take over operations. Some where harmless, some out of order. He intended to put a stop to it all tonight. He had been warned taht she had supposedly gotten strong physically though he lacked any real evidence to believe it. Still he was ready. He was well hidden in the ally she would arrive in, he had his gadgets, his wits and his great detective skills. There was nothing to worry about. Harley was a bumbler, a follower. Her profile was built by him. He knew her inside out. It was only a matter of time before....
Batman didn't finished that last thought. Everything went black as he felt a sharp, bludgeoning weight hit him behind the head.
The gargantuan Harley Quinn was surprisingly silent for one so bulky. With a meaty fist she struck the bat to the ground. He passed out with little effort. She giggled "Bat twat never could take a hit from a girl". With her meaty pillow like arms she hefted the limp frame of the dark knight and slung with over her shoulder. "Aint got no mister J tonight Bat twat so I need a man to stand in for our usual evening entertainment I hope you don't mind? Nah course you don't she beamed to herself".
The truth was Joker hadn't been seen in Gotham for well over a year and Harley had taken it with mixed results. On the one hand she had become a wreck and her mental stability had loosened even more so. She began to make arson in random locations around the city. She managed to rally Jokers old men to her and get them to cause even more havoc than ever (though not nearly as deadly or bizarre as the Joker had).
So she had become a real crime lord. A thorn in the bats side. So what was the other side? She had to begin with fallen into a deep depression. She comfort ate. Small at first with a tub of ice cream here and a few cake bars there. It had gotten ridiculous though when she began ordering her men to rob cake stores and candy factories. Though Bruce had been keeping tabs on her he couldn't fathom how corpulent she had truly become. Not a part of her was spared from being filled with lard.She had no visible neck or elbows. Instead she had a hanging double chin with jowls and fluffy pillow like arms. Cellulite was obvious on her arms and tree trunk like legs. Her belly which had grown to be the largest of her now stuck out as if it was trying to escape her, reached down to her knees. As if not to be outdone her boobs had taken on much weight of their own. No long restricted by a bra they would have hung to either side if not for the tight bright red and black top she wore. It looked as if she had made it herself hastily, stitch marks were obvious. Were once they were small and perky, firm. They were now gelatinous fun bags that wobbled with every movement always under threat of escaping her top with any given force. Her rear if you could see appeared as if it was trying to catch up with the rest of her. Though falling behind the rest of her immense girth it was still impressive it its mass.
You would think she would still be crying her nights away with a bag of candy. You would be wrong.
Instead she found a twisted strength. In her own madness she came to one conclusion. The bigger she got the more the men seemed to fear her. This was of course due to the frightening image of when she accidentally landed on a (now deceased) thug who under her unimaginable bulk broke every bone in his body. But it got worse from there. She decided that the bigger she got the more she was allowed to do. It went from robbing banks, racketeering and then, unfortunately for every attractive living man in Gotham, rape. This was a recent development. No one could guess that she was going to have her men storm one of the biggest male model shows in the world right in Gotham and not steal a thing at all.....apart from three of the models that were on display. She had her despicable way with her and then discarded them like they were nothing.
The men were too humiliated that some sweaty, foul smelling and whale like clown girl had ridden them like them like they were ponies and then just threw them out of her hideout with little care, they couldn't report her. It would ruin them. And so here she was with the bat over her shoulder getting ready to jump in the back of a truck which would take her to her "love nest" (literally a floor covered with cushions and silk EVERYWHERE) from there she would make her ultimate gambit. Her mark that would tell Gotham she was to be feared and that all should flee in terror at the blob queen of crime. She was going to have her wicked way with the Batman. If she could have her way with the bat (Against his will of course) it would show Gotham that he wasn't anything to her, she had over powered him (literally) and made him a pathetic weak mess (which after shes done the dirty grind on his crotch will be literally too).
As her cronies drove to her private fuck pad she could help but ponder. True he was handsome in that rough sorta way but he wasn't her usual type. She liked them more slender, fresh looking......maybe she should also grab....
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