Girls Night Out II

by Nomdreserv and the Dark Oni

Part 6

Montoya gasped in surprise. Batgirl was clearly bigger than before, close to a foot tall.
The doll costume was stretched to its limits and beyond, with ankles and wrists clearly
exposed, a bare (and widening) midriff, and rips at both shoulders. Batgirl had already
removed the offending boots while she still could, and stood barefoot in Supergirl’s lap.
As they watched, she grew another inch, popping the pants’ waist, and forming small
tears at the cuffs as they rode up her calves. The cowl was now only covering her upper
face, and she could barely adjust it enough to see out the eyeholes.

Supergirl cooed. “Ooh. Big dolly.”

“I think,” Batgirl decided. “I’m going to be needing some new clothes.” She flexed an
arm experimentally and watched the shoulder tear extend halfway down the sleeve. She
could barely breathe as the top contracted around her chest, forming a second skin

“Very interesting,” Rook murmured. And, if his eyes lingered a little longer than
necessary on her tightly defined breasts and buttocks, threatening to burst forth from their
purple cocoon, and the skin revealed by her shrinking, crop top costume, well, who could
blame him?

“Eeek!” Batgirl shrieked, as her pants seat split open. She turned to hide her suddenly
exposed bottom. “Montoya, get my costume, please! NOW!”

Montoya ran from the store, as Supergirl continued to “ooh” appreciatively. Batgirl was
now twice her previous height, and her torn clothes were about to give up entirely, with
the pants split up both legs, and coming to about knee level, and her breasts beginning to
peek beneath the shrinking shirt as it rode up unevenly. The sleeves hung in tatters, and
she tried to hold onto the cowl remnants as it tore apart, leaving her even more exposed in
a figurative sense.

Rook was already acting.

“Allow me,” he offered, holding out a small tablecloth while shielding his eyes.

Supergirl had relaxed her hold on her doll as she grew, allowing Batgirl to now hop off
her lap as she accepted the cover gratefully.

“Thanks. Oh my gosh.” The last was in reference to her top tearing completely down the
middle, parting the bat symbol and revealing her perfect breasts in all their glory. She
shrugged and pulled the scraps of her top off, while the pants’ tears expanded and began
to join up, leaving her lower body exposed as well. “I wonder how She-Hulk handles this
problem?” she mumbled. “No wonder the paparazzi are always following her around.
Oops.” She felt the last of her pants fall away in rags. “Geez, this stuff is cheap,” she
complained, then realized it was lucky for her it was, or her growth spurt could have been
much more painful. She was now completely naked again, and wrapped herself carefully
in the provided cloth while blushing prettily.

“Again!” Supergirl laughed, while clapping her hands.

“Indeed,” Rook murmured to himself.

Montoya returned, arms full, to find Batgirl huddling under the cloth, the torn fragments
of her outgrown costume on the floor. Barbara made sure her head was well shielded,
though this left her legs partly bare.

“No cowl,” Montoya apologized, setting the clothes next to the shrunken woman. “Do
you have a spare?”

“No, and it wouldn’t fit yet anyway,” Batgirl noted unhappily. Her growth had stopped,
leaving her about two feet tall. She noticed with chagrin that despite her “growth spurt,”
she was barely taller than the regressed Supergirl sitting down. “So this is it? I’m stuck
like this? I thought it was wearing off.”

“No, no,” Rook corrected. “The magic’s merely unstable. You could start growing or
shrinking again any time, though I doubt you’ll ever reach normal height until you
recover the artifact that shrank you.”

“How about Supergirl?” Montoya asked. “She’s still a baby.”

“For now,” Rook agreed. “But her magic’s also most likely unstable, at least if this
Lilandra uses her ring to regress anyone else. The more it’s used, the more unstable the
magic becomes. Unfortunately, in her case the magic affects both body and mind, and
may change independently.”

“Great,” Batgirl said dryly. “So we may have a powerless Superbaby who can think
normally, or a super-powered adult who wets her pants.”

“More diapers,” Montoya muttered.

“Wait,” Rook interjected. “I have just what you need. Age changing magic is quite
popular in some circles.” He paused to look at the small woman hiding under the
tablecloth. “As is shrinking.”

“You’re kidding,” Batgirl insisted.

“Not at all,” he returned blithely. “Under the right circumstances, it can be quite
stimulating. I’ll grant you that your introduction to it has hardly been favorable, but the
experience can be quite remarkable. Age manipulation is more of an acquired taste. And
while I personally have no desire to re-experience my time in diapers, I do keep some
items in stock. Now, wait just a minute.”

He opened a storage room behind the counter and disappeared briefly. Supergirl,
becoming restless, wobbled over to Montoya and tugged at her leg. When the police
officer looked down, the tiny blond tot held her arms up imploringly.

“Up,” she said, more a statement than question.

“What?” Montoya asked.

“Up,” she insisted, pulling harder on Montoya’s pants. There was enough residual of her
super strength that she nearly pulled them down.

“Hey, wait a second,” Montoya interjected, pulling on her belt. “You want me to hold
you?”

The young child nodded earnestly.

“Well, I, um …” She looked at Batgirl. There was a shrug beneath the sheet. Although
feeling a little awkward about treating the superheroine like the child she now seemed,
she was awfully cute. Montoya couldn’t resist complying, and lifted her into her arms.
Supergirl promptly snuggled against her and contentedly resumed sucking her thumb.

When Rook came back, he held a small package of disposable diapers. He found
Montoya cooing at Supergirl while jostling her playfully and briefly raised his eyebrows.

“Perhaps I underestimated the effectiveness of Lilandra’s spells,” he admitted, seeing
how thoroughly Supergirl seemed to have accepted her regression. “I hope we can
reverse that, too. If not,” he held the diaper package aloft, “super absorbent for a super
baby,” he joked. “But more importantly, super stretchy elastic tabs. They should hold
even if she reverts to adult size.”

“A woman wearing a diaper,” Batgirl said sarcastically. “Oh, she’ll love that.”

“Better than the alternative,” he replied. “And I thought you might be able to use this.”
He held out a black, domino style mask to the woman hiding under the sheet.

“Is this magic?” Batgirl asked suspiciously.

“Alas, no,” he sighed. “Unless you count the smooth caress of soft velvet magical.
Another popular accessory for more adult oriented pastimes. Still, in this case, it should
prove quite functional.”

Better than functional. At her present size, even with the eyeholes centered, Batgirl found
the mask covered almost all her face, preserving her secret identity, and since it was a tie
on style, she could adjust it as needed.”

“Thank you,” she said, her head emerging from beneath the cover. She waved at the rest
of her costume, then glanced at the storage room. “May I?”

“Of course,” he agreed. “The back room is yours.”

Batgirl gratefully closed the door and dropped her covers. Although her costume was still
ludicrously oversized, she felt it was her best bet in case she started growing again. Even
so, she nearly gave it up when she wrestled the tent-sized shirt on. The bottom and the
sleeves dragged the floor, and the normally tight collar threatened to slide over her small
shoulders. She angrily rolled the sleeves up to expose her hands, then used a pin to better
secure the collar. She tried to fashion a makeshift belt from her cape, leaving her in a sort
of baggy, sack dress, her bat symbol still drooping sadly on her tiny frame as though to
mock her efforts.

As she worked, she couldn’t help noticing some of the labels on the many drawers and
cupboards lining the room. A few made her eyes go wide – apparently Mr. Rook catered
to some unusual clientele interests. One or two others caught her attention in a different
way, making her tingle a bit, and she decided a return visit under less pressing conditions
might be in order.

She strung her utility belt like a bandoleer across her shoulder and chest. Large enough to
use it again, she reached behind the buckle and activated a recessed switch. That would
take care of one of their problems.

She emerged from the room to find Montoya making whooshing noises while swinging
Supergirl through the air, the delighted child giggling uncontrollably.

“Me flying!” Supergirl announced proudly to her friend.

“So I see,” Batgirl agreed with a smile.

Montoya seemed embarrassed. “Sorry, but she was getting a bit restless, and insisted she
had to fly. I didn’t want her to hurt herself trying.” She couldn’t resist stopping to tickle
the cute little blond under the chin, drawing mirthful squeals. Supergirl did make an
awfully cute baby.

Batgirl had seen the equally happy expression on Montoya’s face as she played with the
girl, and nodded acceptingly. Although only marginally better dressed than when she
entered, she somehow felt much more comfortable in at least part of her costume. It
reminded her of who she was, and brought back the first stirrings of her old confidence.
She immediately turned to Rook.

“You mentioned returning to normal if we could recover the artifacts.”

“I think it’s your best bet, yes.”

“Any suggestions of how we could find them or her?”

“Ah,” he mused. “Yes. I see your point. Teleportation is rather an advantage for her, isn’t
it? Makes her difficult to find. Hmm. How much magical training do you have?”

Batgirl’s lips set tightly.

“None. I’m not even sure I believe all this mumbo jumbo now.” A tingle moved through
her body, and she sank several inches, returning to Montoya’s knee level. “OK, OK, I
believe! Geez.” She had to grab at her slipping shirt as she shrank once more below
collar size.

Rook watched as she continued to dwindle several inches before stabilizing.

“Interesting,” he murmured. “Most provocative. Now then, as to your lack of training.
It’s unfortunate, since otherwise I could provide you with a seeker wand. Most magics
have their own innate frequencies, and Lilandra, as well as her artifacts, most likely
coming from another dimension, should be quite unique.”

“Frequencies?” Batgirl asked, intrigued. “Frequencies I can do. I’ll bet all her stuff has
some kind of weird energy signature. We can use this staff to identify it and then find her
or the medallion.”

“Possibly,” he agreed. “While the energy lasts.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Lilandra won’t be a problem. She presumably generates her own magical energy
and can sustain it. These devices, though, are another story. If my guess is right, and
that’s based on this staff here, they’re not the sort of high-class items you usually read
about. They need an external source of magical energy to remain useful, rather like a
magical capacitor. While Lilandra holds them, that’s not a problem, but their charge is
limited. The medallion you lost may become difficult to track if it fully discharges,
though I suppose that’s not likely to happen, is it?”

Batgirl’s eyes looked around nervously. She had to get that medallion to get back to
normal. She asked several more questions while Montoya continued to play with
Supergirl, helping the toddler wobble uncertainly around the shop. An unusual engine
noise whined down outside in the street, interrupting them. Rook looked up.

“Ah, that would be your ride I assume?”

Batgirl smiled. “Magical intuition?”

Rook waved a hand. “Few long time Gotham residents haven’t heard the Batmobile at
least once, especially those of us frequenting less traveled paths.”

Montoya looked at her in surprise.

“How did ...?”

“Homing beacon and autopilot,” Batgirl answered. “I hope you don’t mind, Montoya, but
I think we’d better split up. You’ve got to get back to keep Bullock under control, and
I’ve got to go where I can work on this. AND get a new costume.” She bent her head up
and up to look into the eyes of her seemingly 20 foot tall friend. “I can’t thank you
enough. You really saved us back there.”

“Thanks, nothing,” Montoya growled, seeming a little reluctant to give up her babysitting
charge. She hugged the child closely a few seconds. “Just call me when you’re ready to
close in. You could use the backup, and I get a little tired of being on the short end of
these busts.”

Rook smiled, drawing their attention.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “Word play.”

Batgirl tried to glare. “So, assuming we can get this medallion back, could we use it?”

“Oh certainly,” he assured her. “Probably operates with simple mental commands. If it’s
like this staff, a five year old could use it.”

..............................................................................................................................


Jenny and Amber approached Courtney’s room cautiously. They peeked in to find her
dressed in sweats and talking on the phone, with her usual music cranked up in the
background, covering the girls’ whispered conversation.

“Can you really shrink her?” Amber asked. “It’d be neat to have her smaller than us for a
change.” She frowned at several remembered injustices.

“Sure,” Jenny replied uncertainly, not quite sure how the medallion had worked before.
She recalled her words while fighting with Amber. “I wish Courtney was smaller.”

There was a stuttered series of flashes from the medallion as it tried to accommodate the
rather nebulous request, then a larger flash in Courtney’s direction. The two girls gasped
as they saw a ball of light actually fly out to strike her.

Courtney noticed the flash out of the corner of her eye and felt a strange tingle, looking
up to find her little sisters staring at her through the open door. She waved them away
angrily and returned to gossip, though in the back of her mind she noticed something
funny about Amber’s appearance.

“Sorry, Brittany,” she apologized. “My baby sisters were bugging me. Hold on while I
put on another disc.”

She hopped off the bed, not noticing how baggy her sweatshirt and pants had become, or
that the cuffs were bunching up at her wrists and ankles. She did notice that the CD felt
funny as she lifted it from its case, as though her finger and thumb had to stretch a bit
more than they were used to, but she shrugged it off and returned to her bed.

“OK … no, wait,” she sighed. Now she couldn’t get the phone to cradle comfortably so
she could have her hands free for magazines (like many teenagers, Courtney excelled at
multitasking). She also saw with annoyance that the girls had returned to peek around the
door again.

“Get out of here!” she ordered. “Before I get mad.” She saw them scamper away, and
returned to her suddenly awkward feeling phone, finally giving up and just holding it in
her hand. Great, now even that felt strange. "OK, Brit …”

In the hall, Amber and Jenny held a whispered conference.

“I think she’s smaller,” Jenny said triumphantly. “Her clothes looked funny.”

“Maybe,” Amber agreed. “But she’s still a lot bigger than us.”

“It probably takes longer to work cuz she’s so big,” Jenny reasoned. “Let’s look again.”

They peered cautiously once more into the room.

Courtney pulled her sleeves up from where they half covered her wrists. She was having
trouble getting comfortable, and it was beginning to annoy her. Even her bra felt funny.
She set the phone down to adjust it, noting the straps slid loosely on her shoulders, one of
which was bare as her oversized shirt began to settle unevenly. She liked her clothes
baggy, but decided she may have bought too large this time.

“So, anyway,” she started again into the phone. “Huh? What do you mean? No, I’m
fine.” Pause. “Yes, I’m Courtney!” Longer pause. “NO, I totally do not sound like my
baby sisters!”

In fact, she did. As she hit the four-foot mark, her voice had become as high and clear as
Amber’s. Giggles from the door distracted her from her argument with Brittany, and she
redirected her irritation onto another target.

“I’ll have to call you back, Brittany. The little brats are annoying me again. I’m gonna
have to teach them a lesson.” She hung up the phone and glared at them murderously.
“OK, rugrats, I warned you.”

She hopped off the bed, landing with a surprised thump after the unaccustomed drop.
Even more surprising, her sweatpants promptly fell to her ankles.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, pulling them back up. They wouldn’t hold on her waist, and were
ridiculously baggy and long, with the material accordioned over her ankles and half
covering her feet. She must have grabbed a pair of her father’s by mistake. Funny she
hadn’t noticed until now. More giggles from the door redirected her attention and drew
another glare.

“Oh, you think this is funny?” she challenged. “OK, like, I’ll give you babies something
to really laugh about.”

Unintentionally, she did just that. She took what she hoped what a sufficiently menacing
step while holding the waist to keep her pants up, but the too long cuffs slipped right over
her feet and caught beneath her, entangling her legs and sending her sprawling to the
floor. The laughs her pratfall elicited so angered her, she simply kicked the pants off and
jumped back to her feet, not noticing her sweatshirt now came to knee level. She pulled
back the sleeves that had somehow covered both her hands and strode to the door, her
anger briefing quashing the alarms that finally began to ring as she drew closer to her
siblings.

“OK, squirts!” she growled. “Now we’ll … see … who … ooh … um …” She trailed off
weakly as she found herself looking eye to eye with a suddenly confident, smugly smiling
Jenny. Her anger dissolved to shock, and her mouth fell open as she took in her
impossibly large baby sister.

“Jenny!” she gasped. “You’re huge! What happened?” Her eyes swung to Amber, also
close to her own height. “And Amber. OK, girls, like don’t panic. Everything will be all
right. We gotta go tell Mom and she can help.”

Jenny’s smile faded somewhat. “Uh uh. Don’t tell Mommy.”

“But, Jenny,” Courtney insisted. “We’ve got to find out why you’re growing, and … and
…”

Her subconscious had been at work, noting Jenny’s normal appearing clothes and the
increasingly unfamiliar scale of the surrounding room. Her realization of the truth was
even more disturbing since it involved her.

“Oh my God! I’m shrinking!” She looked down desperately at the oversized shirt that
hung like a dress, and her legs which looked so thin beneath it. The sleeves now hung
several inches over her hands, and drooped sadly over them as she raised her arms in
shock. “Oh my God! Oh my God! This can’t be happening!”

“Cool,” Amber decided, as she watched Courtney dwindle slowly. The word was a slap,
bringing Courtney back to herself and causing her to glare again at her sister.

“Cool? Are you crazy? This is a nightmare! I’ve gotta get Mom.”

She started to leave but found the door blocked by her sisters suddenly imposing frames.

“Outta my way, squirts!” she ordered, trying to push past them.

The younger girls exchanged glances, then with one motion pushed back together.
Courtney fell back staggering and stared at them in alarm, realizing with horror that she
now had to look up into Jenny’s eyes.

“What are you doing?” she asked frantically. “Let me out. I’ve gotta find out what’s
wrong.”

“Uh uh. You can’t push us around like you usually do,” Amber crowed. “And there’s
nothing wrong. Jenny’s just shrinking you with her magic thingee like she did to me.
Only you’re gonna be even smaller.” An unpleasant gleam came to her eyes. “You’re
gonna be sorry for all the times you picked on us.”

“Yeah,” Jenny agreed. “And all the times you wouldn’t play with us and called my
Barbies stupid. Now you can be my Barbie.”

Courtney looked desperately from one to the other in rising fear. Now, even Amber
looked a couple of inches taller. Her sweatshirt had reached the floor, her hands only
came halfway down its sleeves, and the collar hung down to expose a bare shoulder, her
almost useless bra strap having already fallen over her upper arm. She could feel her
panties start to slide and fumbled at them through the clumsy sleeves covering her hands.

“No,” she gasped, feeling her bra slide mockingly over her tiny breasts and reduced chest.
“It’s impossible.” Her voice belied her protest, sounding as though she’d been breathing
helium, and making her feel even more desperate. She suddenly looked over their
shoulders. “Mom! Thank God!”

When Jenny and Amber turned with fearful faces to look behind them into an empty hall,
she darted unexpectedly between them, with just enough strength in her two-foot frame to
push past. She ran screaming down the hall.

“MOM! MOM!”

But now her dragging shirt tripped her up, and she fell to the carpet with a whumph. An
instant later, both sisters had piled on top, far too heavy for her to throw off. In the
frantic struggle that ensued, she pulled free of her engulfing shirt, her useless bra also
coming off, so she could fight more effectively, but to no avail. Her sisters were now the
equivalent of 8 and 10 foot amazons compared to her, and she found herself pulled naked
and kicking from the pile of outgrown clothes.

“Help!” she managed once more before a mitt-sized hand was clamped over her mouth.
Ironically, she had silenced her sisters that way on more than one occasion after they
started to cry when she teased them, but having a five year old overpower you that way
seemed unreal. Unfortunately, her voice had also become much weaker, and her cries
barely carried down the hall at this point.

In her room, Patricia’s nap was disturbed by a high-pitched girl’s shout. She clambered
out of bed, her headache worse than ever, and threw open her door to find Jenny picking
up some discarded clothes in the hall.

“Jenny!” she snapped. “Who was shouting?”

Startled, Jenny looked in tight-lipped fear at her mother, knowing full well the possible
consequences of her mother’s anger at being disturbed. Unbeknownst to either of them,
her fear triggered another brief flash from the medallion, weaker this time, but enough to
drop her mother’s skirt another two inches past her knees.

“Um, Amber and I were playing … superheroes. We’re OK.”

“Hmph,” her mother grumbled. “I told you to be quiet. Any more shouting and I’ll spank
you both. Understand?”

Her glare and Jenny’s nodding said it all, and neither noticed her skirt slip down another
inch.

“And why are Courtney’s clothes lying here in the hall?” Patricia continued. “That girl is
looking for trouble. She always acts out when your father is away. She may think she’s
too big for spankings, but …” She trailed off as Jenny muffled a laugh at her words. A
firm believer in corporal punishment, Patricia never hesitated to turn her beliefs into
actions, and appeared ready to give Jenny another demonstration at her perceived
insubordination.

“It’s OK,” Jenny pleaded appeasingly. “I said I’d pick up Courtney’s clothes for her
since she’s gonna play with us.”

“Well, all right,” Patricia allowed, a bit surprised since Courtney usually wanted nothing
to do with her younger siblings, except to yell at them for bothering her. It was good of
her to play with them for a change. “But keep it quiet. And don’t forget bedtime in an
hour.”

“OK, Mommy,” Jenny agreed. She watched her mother turn back into her room, vaguely
noting her drooping skirt and baggy top. The door closed, and she heard the TV come on.
With a sigh of relief, she hurried back to Courtney’s room with her arms full of clothes.
Just before she got there, she heard Courtney’s phone ring, and entered to find Amber
happily talking on it.

“Uh huh. Courtney can’t come to the phone for a while. She’s gonna be too busy playing
with us. OK, Brittany, I’ll tell her. Bye.”

On the bed next to her, a wide-eyed and very naked Courtney looked around desperately
while trying to keep her breasts and pelvis covered, stunned at the field-sized expanse of
bedspread around her, the almost unrecognizable objects of her room, and the colossal
figures her sisters had become. As Amber hung up the phone, the young giantess turned
to her older sister with a smile.

“OK, what should we play first?”



END PART 6


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