Mercy, Milky Massively Mammaried Medical Mommy

Widowmaker read the missive that had come down from the leadership. Mercy was to be her next target. Smart. Take out their chief biological scientist to prevent any chance they have of potentially reversing the effect of the rifle. The problem was that, as far as widow was aware, Mercy pretty much never left her lab. And sneaking into the Overwatch headquarters was not an easy task. She had spend precious time formulating a plan, time that could have been spent neutralizing her target and preventing a possible cure. Her frustration was growing, that was until Sombra approached her yet again.

- Hey frenchie. I've managed to bail you out as usual.

- I do not need your help Sombra.

- Oh really? Then why is the new target still not 'neutralized'?

- You think sneaking into Overwatch HQ undetected is an easy task?

- No. Which is exactly why you need my help.

Widow did not like needing others to conduct her work, especially not Sombra. She swore that one day she might honestly turn the rifle onto its creator should that latina bitch annoy her enough. But she had to admit that she was stumped for a plan of attack here.

- Your silence is my answer 'mon cheri~'
- Your french is terrible...

- But my intel is not. I'm well aware that Mercy is not easily drawn out of her lab, but i've figured out a way. We use their former weapon against them.
- Tracer?
- Exactly. With her power of teleportation we could easily isolate Mercy somewhere and have you already waiting to take the shot.

- And how do you plan of 'convincing' what is now a drooling idiot to do your bidding?

- Don't have to. I'll just hack her equipment, the rest she will do herself.
- Your plan involves trusting a empty headed...bimbo to do our job for us?

- Yes. I've calculated that Bimbo's want one other thing more than they want sex.

- And that is?

- Friends.

In all of her years of training Mercy was not capable of conceiving what she was currently tasked to do. Before her sat Tracer, her former colleague, naked with a huge smile on her face. Whatever weapon had been used on her was unlike anything Ziegler had ever seen before. It was as if someone had taken her friend and cast her in a bad porn movie. Big tits, huge ass, fake tan, platinum blonde hair and the intelligence of a wet sock. She had no idea where to begin.

- Why you like...looking at me like that Ziggy?! Lets have some fun!
Tracer giggled, shaking her torso left and right, causing her tits to jiggle enticingly.

- Please stop that and try to take the situation seriously. You've been altered almost beyond recognition by Talon forces. I am sure of it. I need you to relax so I can take samples and find a cure.
Tracer rolled her eyes with a loud groan, like a child being told it can't have any candy.
- Ughh....but wwhyyyyy? Thats so boooring! I wanna fuck~

Mercy sighed, this was going nowhere. How long was she going to spend trying to convince the vapid shell of Lena to pay attention. Clearly she had to swap tactics. Perhaps an incentive would work better.
- Alright. You want to have fun? How about a deal. You can play with my caduceus if you lay back on the bed and stay...mostly...still.
Tracer looked up, putting a single finger to her bee stung lips. Using all of her precious thinking power.
- Uhm....can it like...vibrate?

Mercy's cheeks flushed. Having to admit such a feature was humiliating. She only hoped that after she managed to cure Tracer she would forget everything that happened here today.
-...Yes it can vibrate.
- Yay! Gimme!

With some guidance, Ziegler manages to lay tracer down on the hospital bed. Instinctively Tracer spread her legs in preparation, giving Mercy her first proper look at the brits puffy bimbo pussy. It seemed to be constantly wet, begging for attention. With slight disgust at what Tracer had become, Ziegler grabber her staff and pressed a combination of buttons, causing the end to start vibrating.
- Don't go too crazy...I still need to be able to collect some dat-...
Tracer greedily snatched the caduceus out of Mercy's hands, clearly not listening. Without any hesitation she went to town with the thing. Sucking on one end with her lips, giving it a quick titjob, before finally figuring out which end was the vibrating one to stick on her pussy.

- Mnnnnfff...g-good w-work doctor! G-gonna like...t-totally c-cure me ffff-fast with t-this!
This was beyond ridiculous. Mercy considered requesting leave, or perhaps a transfer. There was no way she would be able to look Lena in the eyes after curing her, if a cure was even possible. At this point she almost hoped there wasn't to spare the embarassment of having to talk to the 'real' Tracer. The doctor picked up a syringe and moved quickly. It was not easy finding a vein to draw some blood from considering how much tracer was shaking. It took several minutes of waiting until Tracer came before Mercy found an opening. Right as the afterglow was hitting Tracer and her muscles relaxed, Ziegler poked the needle into Lena's thigh, quickly drawing some blood.

- Owie! If you're like...gonna bite at least totally warn me first silly!
- I'll keep that in mind for next time.

Mercy said coldly, turning around as she brought the blood sample to a specialized machine to begin the first phase of analysis. First she has to figure out whether this thing was biological or technological in nature. The report from the incident said that bystanders had noticed a bright pink light. Mercy was fairly sure this was an indication of a technological weapon, but considering the effects on Tracer, it seems like her very DNA has been rewritten, which could point to a biological factor. Perhaps even a combination of the two.

Several minutes of waiting and theorizing go by as Mercy manages to properly concentrate. The silence of her lab really helped her think....Wait...the silence? Has anyone ever heard of a silent bimbo? Had tracer fallen asleep? Or worse...escaped whilst she had her back turned? Mercy slowly turned herself around to face the hospital bed once more, realizing she had not heard any vibrating moans of pleasure for a while. Tracer was nowhere to be seen. Shit!

- Tracer!? Lena?! Are you still here? I uhh....I'll let you fuck my staff real good if you come out...

With a sudden noise a rift in reality tears itself upon in the form of a bubblegum pink portal. Tracer the teleporting bimbo steps out with a bright smile, giving Mercy a quick cheeky salute that causes her ridiculous curves to wobble.

- Like...totally reporting for duty mommy!
- Lena! How the hell did you get a hold of....I thought we confiscated your gear when-....what have you done to it?!
Tracers usual gear had clearly been altered, she was wearing tight leather straps around he legs, arms and torso that looked more like some cheap bdsm gear than something worthy of a hero. These straps held her teleportation device on her stomach like usual, except it now glowed a light heavenly pink instead of a cool blue. On her face rested a pair of gaudy glittering glasses, clearly not ment to be functional. All in all tacky and distasteful parody of her usual outfit that clearly made with malice.
- Uhm...dunno...but like this funny voice told me we should totally go on a vacay! And honestly Ziggy has been sooo boring lately. You should come have fun like me!
- Wait. Tracer you're clearly being controlled by-....

Mercy does not have time to get her sentence out as her former colleague giggles and in one swift motion pulls Mercy into a tight hug. In an instant the both of them are transported through time and space to who knows where.

Widowmaker hated sand. Its coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere. So why the fuck did Sombra suggest to Tracer to bring Mercy to a beach of all places? There aren't even any good vantage points to get a clear line of sight. Instead widow was dressed up in a bikini as some sort of 'disguise'. At least the ridiculous pink and gold rifle looked so silly that it could be mistaken for some sort of childrens toy that someone might bring to the beach. Thus the assassin had propped herself up on the sand, laying flat on a beach towel with the rifle leaning on a wet bank of sand she had created. This was far from optimal conditions to take a shot, but the distance wasn't as great as the other day and wind was not a factor on this calm beach. The sun was setting behind widow, giving her the additional camouflage of light. She should only appear as a dark shadow on the horizon, assuming Tracer the idiot manages to teleport to the right spot. Sombra had guaranteed that she would, saying that she had precisely calibrated Tracers hacked gear to end up right where they needed her.

-...Talon!
Mercy blinked, stunned as she looked around. Where the hell had Tracer taken her. They were at a beach, somwhere secluded with nobody else around. In the horizon the sun was setting, a bright orange ball of light that-...An instant flash of pink light errupted from the sun, striking Ziegler straight in the chest as she momentarily glowed like some sort of radioactive creature. Fuck. She's been hit. Talon turned her own colleague against her. Without any hesitation she turned to Tracer, her only hope of getting out of this in one piece.

- Lena! You have to listen to me! I've been hit by the same thing that changed you! We have to-....
- Ohmagawd! You have! You gonna get like nice and hawt like me?!
- ...No...-I mean yes! W-wait thats not important! What is important you still have time to...to help me! Please we have to...like....teleport back to HQ!

Lena pondered the situation. Every cogwheel in her tiny brain turning at once, analysing how best to alleviate the situation as she stared at Mercy. The doctor was starting to think that she might be breaking through to the brit as Tracer pursed her lips and put a single index finger to them, clearly deep in thought. Or so Mercy hoped. Tracer was spending all of her precious mental power trying to break through the pink fluff that was her mind. She did really want to help the doctor. Mercy had always been kind to her. Some part deep inside of her brain told her that she should teleport back to Overwatch HQ. But then she saw them. In a burst of buttons, Mercys medical gown burst open, revealing a pair of bouncing breasts that already rivalled Tracers. The nipples were a delightful golden colour that complemented the pale skin of the swiss. The way the orange rays of the setting sun bounced off of them drove Tracer into a frenzy, erasing any remaining resistance in an instant.

- Holy mommy milkers! Like...you're fucking stacked Ziggy!
- Tracer please! I can already feel my mind-...like-....
Tracer brings her hands forwards, grabbing onto Mercys tits greedily, squeezing what was at this point at least two G-cups of bulging flesh. The stimulation that Lena provided caused beads of white milk to start leaking from Mercys nipples, leaving small trails on her skin as they travelled down and dripped into the sand below. Mercys attention was brought down from the sudden act, staring at her altered tits, an overpowering warm tingle spreading through her chest. Especially when the milk started to flow.
- ...Holy cow...my boobies...They're leaking!
- Yesss! I was like getting thirsty~

Tracer pounced, pushing Mercy to the sandy ground with ease as she latched onto one of Mercys nipples with her bimbo lips. Using one hand to guide the breast for optimal sucking, whilst her other hand happily massaged Zieglers other tit.

Fuck this felt good. If being a vapid empty headed bimbo made her feel so nice and warm...maybe there was nothing wrong with it. And at this point it was already too late anyways. Tracer was drinking her yummy milk and it felt divine. Even if she wanted her to stop...there was no reality where she could convince Lena to bring them back to HQ. Let alone manage to cure her from the limited amount of information Mercy had gathered. Perhaps Tracer had been right. She had been working for so long. She kind of deserved a break. A break from thinking. The last coherent thought Ziegler had before her brain fully popped was that of a nice long vacation.

Minutes of uninterrupted breastfeeding eventually ended when Tracer popped off of Mercys tit. The brit giggled happily, letting out a cute high pitched burp that showcased her satisfaction.

- Mnnn...you're sooo yummy doctor! Like...your milk is all sweet and syrupy~
Tracer stood up, lending a hand to bring Mercy upright as well.

- Mnnn...thanks hun. I'm like...always happy to help feed the young ones~ You need to grow up big and...bouncy like me one day!

Mercy gave herself a quick spin. Her outfit had burst at every seam possible, leaving her fully nude where she stood. Her tits wer obscene now. Massive orbs filled with endless milk. Tracer hadn't even begun to put a dent into her supply. Yet Mercy was able to stand up perfectly fine. Supported by much wider hips and a surprisingly toned stomach. She clearly had a bit of muscle which was much needed to support her top heavy frame. Her ass however was not much to write home about, at least not when compared to Tracers big booty. Her nipples still had a strange golden sheen to them, the same colour having spread to her lips. Thick and luscious, they looked like they could swallow a cock with ease. Mercy gave them a happy lick to make them nice and moist. Her hair that was already blonde to begin with had not changed much. It was slightly fuller and longer, bangs cascading down her frame, covering her tits slightly as if to tease what was behind the curtains. A single pink highlight ran down the right side of her bangs, showcasing the signature bimbo goodness that had irrevocably changed her. The doctor ran her hands over her body. Taking in all the changes as she made a wide grin.

- O.M.G Ziggy! You're fucking amaaazing!
- I know dear. Don't stare too long cutie~ Or this milf will have to eat ya up!

Widowmaker scoffed. Sombra had installed a link in Tracers gear, allowing them to listen in. Clearly the rifle did not change people equally. Their minds and bodies altered in different ways. Instead it seemed to latch onto peoples existing personalities and bodies, and simply...enhance them. Make them more of everything they used to be. Sluttier. Bimboer. Happier? The thought couldn't evade Widows mind. It was unmistakable. Both of her targets seemed to be loving every moment of their changes. She wondered...how bad would it really be? What would it be like to...be like them? The assassin shook her head as she started packing away her gear. What a silly thought. One that needed to be buried deep in the sand she was standing on. She could not conduct her task of dismantling Overwatch piece by piece with such a stupid notion. She should channel all of her focus towards her next target. And she already had one in mind.