"Come into my web..." Widowmaker whispered to herself as she lined up the shot to the Swiss doctor, hard at work in her lab in Oasis. Angela Ziegler, more commonly known as "Mercy", had finally reached a point in time where she could enjoy a vacation away from the warzones. A ceasefire had been declared, at long last, so she could head back to her labs and work on her Caduceus beam.
Right into the hands of Talon.
With the return of Overwatch, both Reaper and Widowmaker started to ramp up their efforts to remove former Overwatch agents, with varying success. But in this case, it should prove easy enough. Almost too easy, Widowmaker thought, disappointed that it would be a meaningless kill to her. Without challenge, all she would feel is recoil. Her rifle charges up, combining the shards into a larger caliber "bullet". The ability to fire on automatic is not a feature she needs a whole lot, considering her success rate, but it proved useful when dealing with the time traveler. Even if the target was still eliminated, she proved bothersome.
Deciding that she's done enough thinking and stalking, Widowmaker squeezes the trigger.

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Mercy was glad for some peace and quiet. As much as she enjoys being there for people, even she has her limits. The war in Afrika was running her ragged, and her equipment with it. She had been fixing up her old equipment on the way to Oasis, but now she finally has the time to improve her work. The Valkyrie suit needed its armor plating improved, and the self-healing mechanism will require some work as well. The most important work is most certainly the damage boost. As it stands, it only buffs as long as the beam is on the patient, hardly sufficient for when it comes to lifting rubble off victims. It was a remainder of her Overwatch days, but the ability to make a man half again as strong as he is proved invaluable during her work in wartime. With the current boosts, it SHOULD not only be integrated with the healing beam, but cause a long-term effect. Maybe, one day, she will be able to replicate the overheal technology from her great-greatuncle Ludwig. If only the Fortress laws hadn't forbidden all contacts with his technology...

As she plugs the new and improved beam into the Oasis network, she suddenly hears a gunshot from outside. Flinching, she dives to the floor with the reflexes of any trained soldier. As she lies behind her desk, she groans in pain. The shot has pierced her leg! Looking at the direction of the shot, she sees that her reinforced window had saved her. It must have deflected the bullet somewhat, but the caliber was just a bit too large for the glass to handle. Using her cell-phone, she gives a call to the security officer to demand an immediate lockdown of the facility. After a few seconds, metal shutters cover all windows and doors while a security team begins to fan out through Oasis. The would-be assassin should be kept busy for now, allowing Mercy to heal herself.
She thanks God for small favors. The bullet has pierced her leg completely, meaning she doesn't have to worry about removing the bullet first. Turning on the beam, a feeling of relief washes over her. The flesh is quickly mended by her own technology, and soon all that remains of the wound is some blood on the floor. The damage boost is also quite apparent, she notes. The feeling of weightlessness is quite enjoyable. She keeps the beam on her for a little while longer, hardly even noticing her sweater becoming a tiny bit smaller for her frame.

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"Merde." Widowmaker swore. She hadn't expected Oasis to improve their bulletproof windows. A year ago, her bullets went through it like paper, but not it seemed to hardly do anything. Before she could take a second shot, her target was already behind a metal table. No bullet she has would be able to pass through there, and the alarms were already blaring.
"Mission scrubbed. Return to base." her radio said, a pre-recorded message from Reaper. Launching her grapple, she attaches herself to the passing Talon carrier with perfect accuracy. She enters though an open hatch at the back, and enters the ship. There's hardly any room for a person to stand, but Widowmaker has no need for it. She needs to step into the tank taking up most of the space so they can assess the reason as to why she failed. Then she takes her cocktail of drugs to keep her heartbeat down and whatever else they apply.
She hates it.

She doesn't even flinch as the needle enters her spine and applies its cocktail. Suddenly, however, the carrier swerves unexpectedly, and Widowmaker is released from her prison. An automated voice pleasantly informs widowmaker that she has made an illegal move, and will thus be punished.
The machine grabs her by the arms, and injects a new compound in her rear, like an animal! Then, she is unceremoniously dumped.
The drug quickly goes to work on her body, and Widowmaker feels a throbbing pain where the syringe left its compound. She touches her fine rear with her hands...
The second her fingers touch the flesh, it balloons forward, engulfing her fingers in fat and muscle and throwing off her sense of balance.
"Qu'est ce que fuck"!? She swears, as her ass surges forward again. Already, her hams have turned to volleyballs, and she falls on her ever more ample behind. Another surge.

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Mercy's wound had long been healed, but now she decided to really get something positive out of the attempted assassination. She was going to test on some rats, but her desperation erased any concerns for a moment. Considering the lack of side-effects, it seemed fine to test the extended exposure on herself. Apart from a slight feeling of suffocation, hardly anything new in Oasis nothing seemed to be happening. She took off her sweater already, as the heat was starting to get to her. Her shirt is a little tighter than would be considered proper, and her lack of a bra is VERY visible. It's the reason she was wearing a sweater today, after all, but she wasn't going to see anybody else right now. In fact, she'll be in lockdown for about 12 more hours, according to standard operating procedure. She's going to be as private as possible, all things considered.

The beam continues its work, and the residual effects seem to be working fine. She feels healther than ever. She stretches her shoulders a bit, sticking her chest out. She feels her shirt creak a little bit. Perhaps the old shirt is a little overdue for a replacement, she thinks to herself. She looks down at the white shirt, and lifts her chest a little to make it settle a bit better. She must have picked the wrong shirt this morning, on second thought. This one isn't even covering her belly button! And her pants, too... She loosens the belt a little more, for the third time in about ten minutes. Or she tries to, but there's no hole left! Maybe she's just a bit overheated, she thinks. Still, she just removes the belt and lets it lie. If her pants fall off, well... She's in private for a long while, anyway. Still, strangely, her pants remain a little snug. Her ass is outlined almost as well as her chest is in the t-shirt, and you can see her panties dig into the flesh.
She groans again, as the t-shirt creaks a little more. She gets off her chair, finally distracted enough from her report to need a little pace around the room. When she stands up to her full height though, she feels a moment of vertigo. Stumbling back, she catches herself on the edge of the table, shunting it just a little. She shakes it off, and begins to walk. Almost instantly, she has to stop. Her feet are killing her! She bends down, and removes the shoes, leaving her almost barefoot. She is wearing stockings, at least, so she has to take care not to slip...

Her stockings are running, too! God, she looks positively RATTY today. What was she thinking using all these old clothes? Still, nothing to be done about it. She takes a short walk around the room, raising her arms to stretch out a little and to wake up. Suddenly, she feels her shirt pop at the seams! Along the side, where the stitching meets, the shirt has burst open on both sides!
"Mein Gott!" Mercy says. Almost immeadiatly after, her pants follow suit. At her ass, the stitching tears as well, revealing her strawberry-patterned panties to the world, what little is left visible as the panties rapidly turn into a thong.

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Widowmaker finally managed to break open the door to the pilot's seat, her ass-cheeks already at the size of watermelons! Plodding in with her heavier gait, she stops the autopilot and forces the carrier to land. It doesn't take long before it lands, and the doors open to allow Widowmaker some space to get outside. She feels another surge coming on, and one that's even more powerful than the one before. Her suit is stretched to the absolute limit, but just barely she manages to jump out on the sand. Then, hte surge hits, causing her to topple over! The suit snaps back, her growing ass demanding more space. Her torso is left exposed, the skintight suit not meant for such mass. Swearing to herself, Widowmaker removes her suit. She never feels warm, anyhow. Again, her ass grows.
In frustration, she tries to stand up. She succeeds after two attempts, still trying to find her new sense of balance. Frustrated, she lifts her ass with her hands. To her surprise, it is still oddly firm, not just a heap of fat, but muscle as well. She lifts it further, and drops her cheeks down. They jiggle like mad, but that's not the things that widowmaker notices.
She felt it.
For the first time, she felt a tingle of pleasure from those shaking hams. Without thinking, she spanked her own bottom, the jiggle only worsening, and a shock of pleasure flowing through her.

Another surge, not only of growth, but of pleasure. Soon, all Widowmaker could think about was her ass, how it keeps growing, how it just gives somebody so much mass to play with and how horny it makes her. Out here, in the desert, the frenchwoman could do nothing but masturbate as her ass continued to grow. Eventually, when she could sit on it like a beanbag, reinforcements arrived to take her in.
She hardly noticed, so lost in the bliss of her amazing gargantuan ass that she never stopped masturbating for even a second as they took her in.
Sombra made sure to take video, specifically to send to Tracer on a rainy day. That'll cause an uproar.

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"And I'm telling you, if you don't release the lockdown you won't have a building left!" Mercy yelled through her ever-shrinking phone. Her growth hadn't abated at all, and was only worsening! When her clothes had popped off, she realized the problem, but she quickly became too large to operate the computer finely enough to turn it off! Damn her security protocols!
The man on the other end of the phone didn't seem to care. He just tells dr. Ziegler one more time that he cannot lift the lockdown until 11 more hours have passed, and that if she didn't want that to happen she should have called in to start it.
Grumbling in frustration, Mercy throw the phone to the ground, breaking the screen. She grits her teeth as she grows even more, her nipples rubbing against the floor. Her breasts had engorged more than the rest of her, and as much as she hates to admit it, it's starting to become hard to focus. It felt... GOOD. Terrifying, sure, but the feeling of growth has left her wet and needy.

Finally, knowing that she'll have to burst out of the building in order to leave, she decides to just forget about it all. Her fingers quickly go to work in relieving that her aching need. As she comes closer and closer to her climax, her growth rate only seems to increase. It doesn't take long before the ceiling begins to crack against her torso. Just as Mercy orgasms, she bursts through the roof, her convulsions tearing the building apart even more! Finally free, she begins to stand up, the evidence of her pleasure leaking down her thigh. She stands as tall as most of the buildings, now, and that staff is still going! Looking around her, seeing how small everything seems compared to her...
Almost instantly, with no regard for who's watching (in fact, that might just make it even better) Mercy continues to masturbate, stepping out of the rubble of the building to knees in the street. Kneading her breasts and cirkling her clit for a while before plunging in with two fingers. Her growth only continues, displacing concrete and dirt in equal measure as she stretches forward. Her breasts continue growing a little longer than the rest of her. Her modest B-cups have changed into knockout F's. She is unaffected by the weight, the strength enhancement still working. As she cums again, she looks at the growing crowd below her. The whole crowd is little more than her hand in size...
"Do you like this?" She asks, her lust clear as she spreads her legs towards them.
"Do you love your new master!?"

She stares up at the sky, lost in bliss as she continues to grow. Her beautiful, pale skin tanning in the Oasis sun, she soon overtakes the whole city in size. Finally, after hours of pure bliss, she would later come down from her high, and realize her mistake.
Jilling yourself on international TV is not something anybody's ever going to just forget. Especially not if you destroyed a few buildings in the process, and used one skyscraper as a dildo.

Not that she regrets any of it, though.