Superpowered

"Down on the ground, boys and girls!  Bulletta's in town!"

Bursting through the doors of the bank was a muscular, long-haired platinum blonde wearing a tight black leather outfit with a wide window in the front that put her bountiful genetic blessings on display.  It was positively ostentatious, but if she wasn't prone to showing off she wouldn't have loudly announced her presence in the first place.

"It's Bulletta Brass!" one of the customers exposited. "Notorious super-powered bank robber!"

"Thanks for the intro," she replied, punching a nearby guard and sending him flying into the wall.

As she strode towards the counter, a second guard drew his revolver and began firing, the shots hitting her to no effect.  Bulletta flinched, blinking in irritation as a round caught her in the face before bouncing off, disappearing between her breasts.  She reached into her cleavage, fishing around for the bullet before flicking it back at the cop.   The round caught him in the leg, and he let out a cry pain as he stumbled to the ground, clutching the wound.

"Now does anyone -else- want to play the hero?" She looked around at the terrified people, then smiled, approaching the desk as she pulled a large sack off of her belt and tossed it to the teller. "Fill it up."  As the teller loaded the sack with bundles of bills, Bulletta looked on smugly, gesturing every so often for her to hurry.  Within moments the sack was full, and she passed it back into Bulletta's hands. "Thank you."

Bulletta turned and took a step before recoiling, partially in surprise but mostly in indignation.  Standing behind her was a woman in a suit top and skirt trying her best to look intimidating.  Had Bulletta been polite, she would have called her "petite" or possibly "mousy," but she wasn't, so the first thing that came to mind was "short" and "flat as a board."  She let out a short bark of laughter. "You're kidding me, right?"

"Put the money back," the woman demanded.  She poked her in the chest for emphasis. "Or else."

"Or else?"  Bulletta gave her a firm poke, knocking her on her backside. "Yeah, no."

She strutted past, slipping a finger into the hole in her top and giving it a tug.  For some reason it her outfit was squeezing her a little bit more than usual.  Not that being tight wasn't the point, but there was a limit.  Setting the bag of cash down she adjusted her breasts with both hands, trying to relieve the pressure.  She stopped and stared down at them after a bit, trying to figure out what the problem was, only to see them begin to bulge out of the cleavage window.

Cursing under her breath Bulletta reached down and grabbed the zipper, struggling with it for a few tugs before it snapped.  She tossed it away before arching her back and thrusting out her chest, grunting at the smothering pressure.  The leather creaked and stitches popped, exposing diamond-shaped patches of flesh before finally bursting apart.  Bulletta panted, her growing endowments covered in increasingly inadequate strips of loose leather.  Turning, she reached down and picked the smaller woman up with one hand, bringing her as close to her face as her volleyball-sized and still growing endowments would allow. "What did you just do to me?" she snarled.

She said nothing, staring back at Bulletta defiantly even as the taller woman fumed, and as she was slowly pushed away by her breasts.

"I don't have time for this."  Bulletta tossed her roughly to the ground, turning to where she left the sack of money.  Her view of it was eclipsed by her chest, forcing her to kneel and grope around a bit for the top of it.  Finally getting a hold of it, she stood and quickly made for the door, a task made more difficult by her breasts, now hanging down past her navel and continuing to swell.

Shoving the doors open she descended the steps outside.  She went to hold her arms across her chest to keep the bouncing to a minimum, noticing that even in the short span of time it took to reach the curb her fingertips stopped touching in front of her.  Stopping beside her motorcycle she tossed the bag into the sidecar, swinging one leg over and mounting her ride before leaning forward and immediately smothering the handlebars, blocking them from both view and use. "Shit."

The distant sound of sirens caught her attention and with some difficulty she dismounted, abandoning the money as she ran for a nearby alleyway.  Her thighs bounced against the bottoms of her breasts for a few steps before she scooped them up in her arms, carrying them as best she could.  With her prodigious strength their growing weight wasn't the issue so much as their density and size: The softness caused them to overflow her arms, skin growing beneath her fingers, and as she fled down the alley she paused every so often to shift her hold on her assets lest she lose her balance.  Up above, meanwhile, they limited her field of view to a narrow cone down her cleavage that rapidly shrank as she rapidly grew.

Bulletta's breasts soon approached, reached, and passed the size of overstuffed beanbag chairs, leaving her running blind with overfull arms.  Ironically, they were the only thing that let her keep her course: As she felt them brush roughly against the bricks on one side or the other she turned the other way.  It worked, for a while, but as she neared the opposite end of the alley she felt the coarse stone brush against both sides of her breasts, threatening to pin her in.  Cursing, she turned to the right, moving her body to the left and pressing her back against the wall before awkwardly sidestepping the rest of the way.  As her torso cleared the mouth of the alley she felt her right nipple flattening against the wall, and there was a brief moment of panic as she feared she might be stuck.  As the pressure increased she gave her breast a tug, and it popped free, and she carefully turned back to continue her escape.

The sight must have been absurd to passer-by: A woman dressed in leather with a ruined top and a naked bust that was rapidly approaching the size of a small car, leaning back as far as she could with arms outspread to hold it even as it spilled over her arms, slowly walking out of an alley and heading for the street.  Even so, it was a display of sheer determination that, even without context, was admirable.

At least until she tripped on the curb.

Gravity took hold, and Bulletta let out a yelp she fell forward.  Her breasts hit the road, their sheer weight and her natural toughness causing the pavement to crack beneath them as they rippled and shook from the impact.  She clambered to her feet, trying in vain to shove them forward as they grew, and grew. "No, no, no no NO NO NO NO-"


*****


The police didn't have a hard finding notorious super-powered bank robber Bulletta Brass after that.  Her breasts had finally stopped growing when they arrived, rising at least two feet higher than Bulletta herself and easily blocking two lanes of traffic, and her nipples had swollen so large that the police cordoned off a third lane just to be on the safe side.  Bulletta was technically under arrest, but they were still waiting for her to calm down before putting the handcuffs on; as she was, she was cursing and raving at one of the people a nearby officer was interviewing.

"She, uh..." The officer adjusted his hat. "...she doesn't like you, does she?"

"That's because I did that to her," the mousy woman replied.  "I can make people's body parts larger or smaller with a touch."

"Oh."  The officer looked pointedly at her chest, or lack thereof. "Does it work on yourself?"

She glared daggers at him. "Yes," she said icily. "I happen to like sleeping on my stomach, thank you very much."

"Oh.  Now when you say 'body parts' do you mean -any- body part, because uh..." He leaned in.  "I got one you can try out."


*****


"Hey Jim, that new bra looks great on you!"

"Shut the fuck up, Dave."